Well now, that's what I call a hiatus...

Good grief, a dusty old canvas in the corner of my shambles of a webspace.

Folks, there a re numerous reasons to complain at the moment, and fewer reasons to celebrate. However, I endeavour to grasp the full value of those good aspects, so that they outweigh the grey.

I could tell you all about my lack of work, lack of a wage, lack of direction, lack of love, lack of joy, lack of faith, lack of positivity, lack of youthfulnesss, lack of adventure and I could spin webs of self-centred melancholy until I was blue in the face.

What would it be worth though? All those things are just the facts at the moment. They are rubbish, difficult, saddening facts, but facts they are, and as such they cannot be exchanged for a delightful, fictional existence. This sense of constant foreboding is the natural way for the moment...

Fortunately though, loves, we have that great, glorious invention of sound that so enlivens the blackness all around me. Conversation is the pulse. Music is the layers, the pictures and colours. I listen to "The Fireman" and I see everything I aspire to. Seasick Steve does my reflection for me, be tells me bout my own worries and how they pale in comparison to everything else out there. I gt on thephone, get out into the air and speak to folks andd I remember the true value of thinsg as they are, full of hope, bburioied undder a crust of rust.

It is difficult, particularly on these very quiet nights, to remember to listen; but when I do, I am encouraged despite myself, despite the truth of things, despite the apparently compulsary search for money. With sound I am justified to myself.

Savvy? Goodnight, then.

There's potential! There really is...

...I've seen it!

So it's Sunday. I'm unbearably tired, I'm a little bit down and I have to get on a train.

Thing is, I'm going somewhere good... Southampton to see my sister, Becky, as it happens. This isn't just your regular hang-out though; we're only going to see The Go! Team play at the Student Union, aren't we?

IT WAS INSANE.

Support acts existed, but they passed with no notable features to them; I suppose the huge, layered screaming chaos of the Micra Girls has been logged away in the back of my head somewhere, but I think everybody in the room was there with the same direction in mind - To grin and dance.

So, at half-past something, the lights disappear and the band bounce out onto the stage, fully aware that they are about to blow our balls off, and tear open the set with "The Power Is On". After that, it's just a blur of noise, smiling and more dancing than I have seen happen in any one place in England in my entire life.

The key thing is this - Everyone's dancing because they want to dance. They're not all responding to alcohol or drugs and they're not trying to grind against a potential one night stand, they're just bloody goin' at it, takin' that sound and throwin' 'emselves all about the floor, loving every moment. There we're nutters on both sides of me, all of us screaming and singing and gettin' down.

THAT is what a gig should be. Not a fashion show, not a period of time in which to cry and feel bummed out, but a section of life that is tattooed into your memories forever as containing nothing but absolute joy and smiles.


Best gig I've ever been to, and I was watching Led Zeppelin about 2.5 months ago.

'tonm. xx



Book of the Moment: Eric Clapton: The Auto-biography, p149

Song of the Moment: "The Wrath of Marcie" by The Go! Team

Recording something well requires patience.

Unfortunately, this is something I tend to lack in and, as such, respond to problems quite spectacularly.

I mean, it's not like I can rapidly sort out the issues I'm having. In fact, it's nothing like that at all. I think maybe I have an underlying hatred for technology, that when something that's been invented to add ease to a process goes wrong, I can't help but feel massively short changed. I just want to be able to sit down, turn everything on, click that beautiful red button and record my little songs so that I can show 'em around.

Trust me, by tomorrow this will be a non-issue. I will have found an easy way around the problem at hand and will be thoroughly enjoying the entire recording process. Probably.

I just get concerned that it's stifling me, you know? I'm not saying I'm some fragile ball of creativity that needs careful nurturing or anything. I think it's just really easy for your attitude to take a hit when you're not actually concentrating on the song itself because the technology is messing you around. I can't sort it out, so I run out of recording time because it's too late or I'm going somewhere. Then I listen to music and all of the people who didn't have problems with their recording equipment and, consequentially, are now in the public eye with their music, expressing themselves and being paid for it.

I'd like to think it doesn't come down to that - I'm not just obsessed with playing to people or making a name for myself. If truth be told, the one I'm trying to record at the moment is a present for someone. No, I just want to be able to stop all this talk about producing music and actually get it done.

When I do, I'll tell you all about it, mark my words. I'll be so bloody relieved to have achieved something that I won't pause for a second.

For now though, let's call it "production time".


'tonm. xx

Book of the Moment: The instruction manual for a Behringer Xenyx 502.

Song of the Moment: "The Curious Tale of Jack Lemon" by The Abner