Friday, August 23, 2019


I'm so in love with this song, and specifically this version of it, that I am going to marry it as soon as such things become legal.
After three hours of writing the massive re-write today, I'm going to print it out. There are 'issues' that I can't possibly solve through looking at it on a screen.
Old-fashioned red pen for the weekend.

Thursday, August 22, 2019


I had just stopped writing (only two hours today) because of a humdinger of a headache, when I got an email asking for A Good Life With A Bad Apple because it's going to be Gary Crowley's track of the week, I think next week. I'm so excited, and I've thrown my headache out of the window.

Puzzling Over Writing

It's like a Rubik's Cube: you change one bit so you need too change another bit so you need to change another bit.....
And end up just where you started!

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

Lovely Album Review from Greenfield Cygnus Blog


I've marked a load of student work this morning and while the computer is charging so I can do a bit of writing, I'll moan about the builders.
It seems to be the nature of living here in the 'burbs that neighbours, who come and go with depressing frequency, move into an already nice house and then gut it completely.
After more than two years of yelling, bashing and general bad builder behaviour over the road while the prize-winning and ultra-certificated OWCH premises were built, I'm now sandwiched between hearty, bashy builders. I've got the ear protectors that I used to have to wear a couple of years ago, but it still means that recording is simply impossible.
Have I written about the interview for BBC Radio Sheffield a few weeks ago where I had to go down the road and ask a builder to stop hacking a pipe out of the wall for half an hour because I was about to do a live broadcast? He was very nice about it, but then knocked on the door ten minutes later, nanoseconds before the interview was due to start, asking when he'd be able to start again!
This lot started off being quite entertaining: you know, the knowledgeable older one telling his apprentice all sorts of guff just to assert his authority and the apprentice patiently listening while noting secretly that it's all a load of rubbish (you see, I'm a mind-reader!).
Now the gaffer has got nasty. He spent most of yesterday morning shouting at people on his mobile while standing on the street outside my door so that no-one could hear him in the house that's being done up. He has  allow opinion of everyone, it appears, and I'm glad he's not there today.
Today's nosies are echoing cockney voices. I think that are painting now, from the length of the silences, although I can't hear the brush strokes. I can hear bits of hectic sandpapering.
I have been listening for so long that I could draw you a floor plan of the house just from the sonic shaping that I've heard. And it's not even next door!
On the other side, the thrill is to start at 9 a.m. on a Sunday, wake me up, and then stop at 11.
The randomness of this all is what makes it impossible to record anything. Everything is set up for programming, but even with the headphones on I can still hear it all going on in the background.
Oddly, it makes less difference when I'm writing the book: it's almost comforting to hear that there is more to life than just me and the laptop in our intense relationship.
OK! Coffee time, then back to (writing) work. At least I'm having this afternoon off!


On another note (!) Ian Button sent the mixes of my next project yesterday evening. They are brill. Music has saved my soul, whether I'm making it or listening to it.

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

Chapter Intros and Outros

I've got to Chapter Four, out of ten.
This is slow.
I forgot to go to the dentist this morning.
I'm writing a song as well, in my 'eyes breaks'.
And I've marked some student work.
And I've been out for a walk so the computer doesn't blind me: three miles getting lost in suburbia and finding myself again. It's hot out there, though it's pretending to to be.
I returned with some new lyrics and enough energy to approach Chapter Four.
The only plus out of this is that I've interviewed some amazing female producers and if I can get their stories across, this ought to be a really inspiring book.
What a responsibility.

Monday, August 19, 2019

Five Hours

Five hours today, but I'm not sure if it's made any difference. After tomorrow, I think I'll print it out and read it.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

Grafting and Graveyarding

I didn't expect to work today but when I woke up, I felt like it.
So I spent most of the morning taking notes from an academic book that the new editor wanted me to read, went for a short walk, then carried on working in the afternoon. At the moment it feels like I'll never finish writing (and this was a day spent reading before writing), but for some reason I'm quite motivated, even though I'd rather not have come home from being on holiday.
The night I got back I wrote a song which means that I missed playing, too. I sang it until I lost my voice, but I don't need it for a few days so that doesn't matter.

It's strange not hanging out with the Offsprogs. They make me laugh because they are so silly, and that's very relaxing. We seemed to do a lot of hanging out in graveyards, and we know an awful lot about the graveyard in Stirling after being befriended by the Stirling Graveyard Volunteer.
Do ask if you need to know anything about it.

Saturday, August 17, 2019

Druridge Bay

Verily, Druridge Bay in Northumberland is the most beautiful beach in the world, rasped as it is by chilly north sea winds, and bathed in its cold grey waters that deposit faint traces of sea coal, spent razor clam shells and denuded sea urchins.
It laughs at the tiny humans that try to put up windbreaks and exercise their dogs along its length (the dogs just run for it: it's very funny!).
The sea keeps a daily diary of its activities inscribed on the sand between tides, and washes it away again at every turn.
You get a natural facial: your skin is blasted and battered by tiny, stinging sand particles. You get a natural hairdo: the wind plaits, weaves and tangles your hair into a nest of salty string.
If you lie down, the gusts blow sand into your ears.
If you lie down for long enough you will turn into a sand dune yourself, seeded by rough seagrass patrolled by cross little birds, and scattered with desperate colonies of ragwort weighed down with fornicating bees.
The sky is huge and blue... oh no it isn't...
It's cloudy and grey, spitting rain... oh no it isn't...
It's huge and blue, constantly changing: gigantic, a cloud-holder, stretching to Scandinavia where the dog commands are in Danish but people still can't put up a windbreak.
Running on compacted sand, limping across the hard rippled traces of the sea, splashing through the long salty puddles, sitting in the shelter of the wartime concrete blocks sinking into the soft buttery landscape... I was there, it was there, it is there, and it will be there: a place to share atomic particles with nature, to disappear, to not matter, not to matter.
Until the next time, paradise!

Friday, August 16, 2019

Sherwood Forest

Sherwood Forest was a revelation- the Major Oak, 1500 years old, and hundreds of other ancient oaks that resembled totem poles, are all mixed in with sparkling birches.
Around the periphery scores of swifts dart through the air; if you look up they look like swarms of midges.
The scent of the forest is fabulous, so different from pines and spruces in Scotland, but absolutely exquisite and impossible to describe.


Offsprog One bought me this manager at the Quayside Market in Newcastle on Sunday morning. Apparently his name is JDL and he's a boxing manager from Texas, but I'm sure he'll learn the ropes (aha!) given a bit of time.
I'm not quite ready to unwrap him just yet, but he can nod his head for 'yes' and shake it for 'no', and he also has gripping hands for gripping wads of cash, and (I'm sure you'll agree) rather a natty line in suits!

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Go, Fortune-teller, Go!

What a great idea, I thought!
A green light in the middle of the back window to let people know when the fortune-teller's previous client has left, and it's time for the next one to enter the caravan!
Then I was told that it was the reflection of the traffic light next to the caravan.

Monday, August 12, 2019

Yellow Toadflax Garden

This is my favourite wildflower, and it grows along and between the railway lines and just about everywhere in the north-east of England. This little colony has self-seeded jut outside the Baltic Art Gallery, where it has a perfect view across the Tyne.
Oh, you should have seen the fog on the Tyne last night!
The spindly bridges loomed out of the grey woolly mist; fuzzy pale street lights tried to puncture the thick gloom, and the Tyne was a dark mass below the train as we crossed over to the station. Such drama!
The show in Middlesbrough was lovely, I'll write about that next stop.
It was moved to the Old Fire Station because of the wet and wind so we had a dynamic reverb helping us on our way.

Friday, August 09, 2019

Things Like This Don't Happen To People Like Me

Sunday Afternoon in Middlesbrough

It sounds like the title of an Impressionist painting, by a north-eastern painter in an anorak, perhaps. I am so looking forward to this- every so often I get to see/hear Gem and her band and it's always a pleasure; as well as making great music, they are a really nice bunch of people.
I will be battling through the gales in a titchy car with two Offsprogs and an Offsprog friend tomorrow. I have a steely driving nerve, a pack of chewing gum, and a one track mind to get to the Toon and put two of them on to a Glasgow Train in the afternoon; cross your weather fingers for us, plz.

Thursday, August 08, 2019

Empty Pockets!

The lead has fallen out of my pockets- there was so much of it!
Now birds are flying into my lyrics.


I've even washed out the kitchen bin. I'm sure it's made your day to hear about that.

A Pointless Day

Under the weather, I slept beyond it being possible to do what was supposed to happen today.
No Nile Rogers for me.
It might be called being tired.
Last night I went to Pete Astor's celebration of finishing his album of covers at the Betsey Trotwood, which sounded very good over the Betsey speakers, then upstairs for Darren Hayman, the second time this week (I went on Monday too; I love to see what's on the musical landscape).
It was full last night and I appreciated the songs a lot more. The blend of vintage technology and Telecaster sounds lovely.
I wish I had a better camera, maybe something to think about before I plunge into penury and lentils in September.
Back to pointlessness, which I have to say is rather nice.

Muse, from Sounds of Equinox

The poet and writer Paul Scott Bates has a project called Sounds of Equinox where he sends his poetry to musical collaborators, and this is the video for the one he sent to me. He has worked with a really wide range of different musicians and it was really nice to be asked to do this one.
His whole project is here- take a listen- there is something for everyone.
Thank you for inviting me, Paul. This was recorded by Olivia Hale and mixed by Anisha Bowri.


Yesterday I was starting to finish, or finishing to finish (?) another recording project.
That sounds a bit w*nky, put like that.
But a while ago I had the idea of making a miniature LP- a 7" vinyl that runs at 33 r.p.m. with lots of miniature tracks on each side, mainly because I write so many short songs.
I started talking about it, and one of my students said 'That's a good idea. I think I'll do that!' which of course means that I had to do it.
Originally I re-recorded a bunch of songs, including some from the CDs that I have released over the years- Butterfly and Rock'n'Romance from Poetry and Rhyme, one from a children's musical for TheatreTrain about famous artists that I wrote songs for with Lester Square back in the day (Degas), and a couple of others that I'd never released. But then I wrote some more, and had to slash'n'burn to get the timings down to less than 7 minutes a side.
Yesterday was arranging day, and I love that. It was recorded with Ian Button again, and he has mellotron samples, so three of them have cello samples on, a bit vibrato-a-gogo but fairly natural sounding. It was fun going to town on the backing vocals too, and the rough mixes do sound good. They just have to be mixed now; there will be 100 of them pressed up and I will probably hand-colour the covers too.
So that's what's next.

Monday, August 05, 2019

Supposed To Be

I am supposed to be finishing writing a book, but instead I am writing songs.
I'm writing a little bit of book in between writing songs (mostly colouring bits of the e-manuscript in red, blue and green and shuffling them around).
It should probably be the other way around.
There is no-one to scold me about this lackadaisickability apart from me, and I'm not angry enough about it.
The Come Dine With Me omnibus was great yesterday, as well.

Roll on a rainy day or two perhaps.

Not Quite As Good As Bleep Bleep Blip

From Paree, a self-funded research trip in which I found out practically nothing but had a lovely time, which is a much better outcome, innit?

Friday, August 02, 2019

Rough Sleepers/Homeless People

'Rough Sleepers' are rough wakers too.
They are homeless 24/7, and all too often the concept of 'rough' applies to the person, rather than their environment, in people's heads. 'Homeless People' are people without a home: people like you and me without a home to belong to, whether their roof is the sky or a bed and breakfast.
At the surgery the other day, a well-spoken young woman was making an appointment for her little daughter. Good-naturedly, she described her itinerant lifestyle to the receptionist. It was awful to listen to. She was being moved around the country with a school-aged child because that is what happens to homeless people, regardless of their age, gender or family circumstances.
I, Daniel Blake needs to be prescribed to everyone constantly until we can change this.
It is a national shame, and a personal shame.
I call on B*llocks Johnson to put a sock in his stupid Euro-posturing and protect UK citizens against... the UK government.
Yes that's you, Tories, who have been pursuing this cruelty to fellow humans ever since the Thatcher project came to fruition; and us voters, who haven't done enough to take care of our brothers and sisters.

I scream inside about this all the time.


Plans keep changing, and everything is beyond my control: go with the flow, and all will be well.

Yesterday was good. Thanks to Jono for coming to set up the JV1080 so I can do a bit of programming; it's fraught with quirks, but it will be fun to make a bit of pop music in my idle hours (ha!). It was nice to see Katy too, passing by for tea and cherries. I love your funny impressions Katy: the builders, your dad, and pompous ladies you meet on your travels in Poland. Ha ha!
Actually, I'm procrastinating. I should be writing my academic swansong, currently running at 70,000 words. It's a book on women engineers (that typo-ed as enginerds, which is rather a nice word I think I will have to copyright in case anyone 'borrows' it), and producers.
It's taken me ten years to write, punctuated by bereavements, other research projects like the She-Punks film and shorter bits of writing, a relationship break-up, making music and having sometimes three jobs to make ends meet. I have to respond to the editor's suggestions for changes, which are quite detailed and seemed daunting, but actually I made a start two days ago.
I aim to be finished the second week in September and ideas of a summer holiday have gone out of the window; August will be spent rewriting, every morning that I possibly can.
After that, there are several articles in the pipeline to be looked at, and then writing will become songwriting. Music pours out of the walls in this tiny house and I want to catch it while I can!
So that's the kettle on for a booster coffee (why can't I bring myself to say turbo-charged?) and then writing until the computer battery gives up!

Thursday, August 01, 2019

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Saturday, July 27, 2019

Photos From The Weekend

From Sheffield: Duncan Parsons sings about the Green Cross Code Man at the Lantern Theatre; pic of me before playing, by Heiner Michaelis; pics of my set by June Whitfield; stairs to climb up on very hot day with heavy guitar and luggage in Edinburgh; playing at The Leith Depot by Trash; with Neil Cooper from The Herald by Liz Tainsh.
Lovely to see everyone, Mick, June, Laura, Bambos, Jane, Joe Buzfuz and Polly, Trash and friends, Maria, Neil, and everyone else- and big thanks to Duncan and to Liz Tainsh for being great promoters.
£330 for Refugee Charities raised last night, and two separate people came up and said I play like Chet Atkins.
I don't, but the beer must have been good!

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Marching to Show Displeasure at the Racist, Homophobic and Misogynistic Liar

Somehow it felt better. This was quite a spontaneous gathering, I think: mostly young people.
Bizarre to be handed a card from a casting agency, nanocentimetres from where I fell and broke my elbow on the NHS march last year.
Sorry Offsprog Two, but really you shouldn't be reading Mummy's blog!


On the day a proven liar moves into 10 Downing Street, this is my song about liars (not fibbers, people being untruthful, or people being economical with the truth: liars).


I wonder if the Blond Ambition Man got the idea for constant reinvention from David Bowie?


The problem is that narcissists like bad-boy publicity as much as (or even more than) good boy publicity.

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Rehearsing for This

I'm hoping to play some new songs, if I can learn the words in time.

Breathing Space

The daydream was to go to Cuba and listen to music, music, music all day long: maybe to drive around in a beaten up 1950s American hire car.
Then my close friend from long ago invited me to Lake Balaton for a holiday.
Because all of August will be spent correcting the manuscript of a book that needs to be completed; I'll be sitting in the heat staring at the little screen, shifting text around, slash'n'burning.
There are four more academic articles in the pipeline, with expected (though welcome) editorial thrashings to come.
After that, that's it.
No more academic writing.
I want to be a songwriter, to collaborate in making music. I have already started doing this, and it's fun and lovely.
My small kitchen is going to become a studio. No more steamy cooking! The Roland JV1080 is going to emerge from its plastic cocoon, hook up to a computer and then let's see what happens.

Until then, I have two days 'off'.
I have been working two part-time jobs as well as writing, performing and taking the She-Punks film about the place; I have resigned from one of them to have more time for research.
That means much less money but much more time.
This morning I pretended that I was on holiday in another country, with nothing to do but drink coffee and read. Because it's hot, even the sounds are 'foreign'. The back garden reverb has abated, the crows are asleep, and the people who swear loudly as they walk past the front window have melted into muttering piles of sweaty grumbling.
More coffee Madame?
Yes plz!

Monday, July 22, 2019

Interview in Exposed Magazine, Sheffield

BBC Radio Sheffield Interview

I've just done an interview with BBC Radio Sheffield before Thursday's gig at The Lantern. What was my favourite ever gig? Undoubtedly, Black Sabbath at the O2 Arena in 2016.
I told the story of this song while they were playing it- about how I was such a fan of Donna Summer and had no idea that I Feel Love was played on electronic instruments. This song used to half kill me when I played it live.
We took the newly pressed single to the Moonlight Club where the DJ, who had become a friend of ours, was a big fan of The Chefs.
He put it on the turntable and said 'Oh no! That sounds just like Donna Summer!'

Trying To Learn Lyrics

I'm trying to learn lyrics so I have a different repertoire for the gigs later this week- it's a slow process that makes me wish I wrote simpler songs!
I'm probably trying to learn too many new ones at the same time but it's quite good to have a challenge.
I need to remember that the words go in when I'm looking the other way.

Sunday, July 21, 2019

Thursday: Sheffield; Friday: Edinburgh

Thursday's gig is at The Lantern Theatre in Sheffield; Friday's is the Refugee Benefit at Leith Depot (I'm on at 10.15) and more to come on that later in the week.
Sheffield ticket link:


Waking at 6 on a Sunday?
Getting up straight away and finishing the outstanding marking for the re-sit work by my students?
Sitting in the sunshine in the back yard, eating cherries and reading the Sunday papers?

Friday, July 19, 2019

The Monster in the Chemist's Shop

My heart leapt in fear. Down the far end of the chemist's shop, a shaggy grey monster in big shiny sunglasses and a hidden body was looking at products on a revolving stand. 
Well, this was Bristol, I suppose. Maybe that was a normal sight?

The woman with plentiful grey hair and sunglasses perched on top of her head looked up, and I felt really stupid.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Loud Women Unplugged

The past ten days has been a whirlwind (it might even be more than ten days, but the whirlwind has swirled them around like autumn leaves so it's impossible to pin them down).
I realised that I hadn't written about the Loud Women Unplugged night, so here goes. It's going to be brief, but what a group of songwriters!
Starting from the first act: Born Again Virgin was actually a solo artist, Anna Roenigk, who hails from Austin, Texas. I would describe her songs as solo swamp rock; her voice has a little country grit in it, and her songs have a little weariness too. She played one of the best songs of the night- I was sitting next to Samantha Whates, and we just looked at each other with that songwriters awe and nodded. I tried to video a bit of it but failed miserably (my phone storage is full). It just did all the things that a song is supposed to do, in all the right places. Wow.
Next up were Naz and Ella, a duo who have beautiful voices and a clarity of delivery that showcases their (often) political lyrics. Their harmonies actually reminded me of Simon and Garfunkel more than any female duos before or since, which I hope they would take as a compliment. They are very much of the moment and I can imagine them becoming extremely successful: keep your nerve! Don't divert! Songs with meaning matter.
Beth Munroe sang through a wall of heartbreak and delivered a fantastic set of powerful songs. A fog of despair threatened to suffocate her message, but she had the strength to blast through it and her set was mesmerising. She is  a producer and electronica artist too and well worth watching out for.
I was trying to find a way to describe Jelly Cleaver's music. She definitely has the key to the magic chord cupboard, and her songs drift through ideas: lovely ones. The song about Yarl's Wood, Freedom Will Come, had the line 'You can't stop our love from breaking in'. What a fantastic inversion of ideas. She is an abstract artist: she is a poet whose words land like flocks of birds on branches of music. I thought her set was beautiful.
Samantha Whates was the final act, last but definitely not least. We first met more than ten years ago when we both started out (her at the beginning, me first time as a solo artist), in a venue in Camden run by a mutual friend. I remember that night very clearly, because she sang a song that I really liked- and I recognised it again second time around. Samantha is just finishing an album recorded in waiting rooms (including a prison cell and a ferry terminal). The stand out song was Guilty, which looked at things from different perspectives, and was totally absorbing.
Three cheers for Cassie Fox for setting up and running Loud Women, and for putting this night on, and having faith in female musicianship of all stripes!
That's it for now- here are some of my photos of Cassie, Anna, Nat and Ella, Beth, Jelly and Samantha. Photo of H McC by James Hammick.

Monday, July 15, 2019

Friday, July 12, 2019

Pop! Not Hate in Newport Tonight!

The Catenary Wires, Arrest! Charlie Tipper and The Lovely Basement at Bristol Thunderbolt

I have been wandering round Bristol, trying to find Bristol.
I queued up at the ice cream van: the ice cream man was grappling with non-frozen ice cream because he had been so busy.
'Have you got an ice cream disaster?' asked another customer.
Heat-drugged, I though that was the name of an ice cream, until I realised that it was a conversational comment.

You want to know about last night. Well, The Thunderbolt is a fab venue with good sound engineers and friendly staff. I have always loved playing there myself and it was great to go there and be an audience member for a change. Tim had said to get there early because The Lovely Basement are good, and he was right. There are two singers, a he (Kevin Bache) and a she: the she, Katie Scaife, has the most fabulous green guitar which made the Green Goddess shudder with jealousy back home in Barnet. They swap lead and rhythm roles, and their music has shades of The Velvet Underground but also the occasional country music reference, probably because of the blend of vocals (the drummer sings too). Actually I've just checked their Facebook page to try to find out their names and that's exactly what they say they want to sound like, and they absolutely do. A 'sound' means nothing without good songs, and they really do have good songs. I really enjoyed their set.
Arrest! Charlie Tipper are musical family to me. We have done a lot of stuff together: the Femme Fatale cover from 2016 and the video, and quite a few gigs including the Pop! Not Hate ones. Last night their set was tight and punchy, politically driven and probably the best I've ever seen them. The last song they played was brilliant, and reminded me of early Pink Floyd. Bloody hell, organising a seven-piece band deserves a medal- and so does organising all those Pop! Not Hate gigs which I understand made well over £1000. Great band + great politics: what is not to love? I am looking forward to playing with them tonight in Newport at Le Pub (that's a plug, BTW!).
The Catenary Wires played a set of songs mostly from their new album, and again, I think this was the best I've ever seen them. The acoustic shape of the Thunderbolt scrunched up all the arrangements, vocals, guitars, keyboards, harmonium, drums, and made perfect sense of the way those arrangements speak to each other in their music. Before, I've seen them outside and in churches, where the airiness of the environments added to the mood, but this was a different experience altogether. What lovely songs they write, and what lovely orchestrations: the band they have playing with them, Ian Button, Andy Lewis and Fay Hallam are brilliant.
They are playing in Oxford tonight. Go to see them if you can.
I took photos but they are rubbish. I looked into the screens of everybody else's cameras and they were taking much better ones. I hope these words are enough.

Wednesday, July 10, 2019


What do you call a donkey that carries a load of painkillers on its back?
A paracetamule.

Tuesday, July 09, 2019

Useful Dream, Useless Reality

I dreamt that I sewed the torn sleeves back on to my shirt, and I was delighted.
I woke up to find that it wasn't true.


Well, that was a nice round-trip to nowhere. Half the signals were broken on the Northern Line tube, so I had a half-possibility of meeting an agent who was interested in providing placements for my students. I live in hope, so I boarded the train. By the time we got two stops down the line, the train stopped and the driver gave increasingly pessimistic forecasts of us ever getting anywhere. I crossed the platform to get the train back, only to find that the problems had increased, and that driver was telling us exactly the same thing.
So here I am at home with coffee after a long bus journey, wondering if I'll be able to get to the Equality and Diversity meeting this afternoon.
I've been reading Owen Jones's book The Establishment over the past few days and although it's out of date already, it's providing an interesting and depressing underpinning of the demolition of British democracy that has been undertaken in the last 40 years. Everything I think at the moment is coloured by what I'm reading. I've just handed in my notice at one of my jobs and I was thinking what I could do to supplement my income; 'life coach' sprang to mind, and then sprang back out again. Life coaching is social work for privileged people, who are the people in our society who least need this service. Wouldn't it be great to divert all the life coaches (it's sounding like cockroaches now!) to helping people in more need? One obvious one: debriefing General Practitioners who have no support at all to help them to cope with the array of terrible physical and mental problems they come across as part of their daily routine. Or perhaps they could start up Youth Clubs to replace the ones the Tories have destroyed, which has led to (surprise!!!) gang warfare and gun crime on urban streets.
And then the environmental thing: that whole mantra that we as consumers should change our habits to save the world. Actually, it's the multinational corporations that should change their habits- and crucially, their shareholders. Do they really, truly think that they will be able to leave the planet and set up somewhere else?
I am so ranty this morning! This is what a change of plan does to a person: your brain uses its energy to push to the forefront things that have been hidden by other responsibilities. I try not to bore my friends with my anger, but you should hear me and my Offsprogs when we get going!

Monday, July 08, 2019

Gig on Wednesday, North London

I'm playing here on Wednesday- songs from the new album. This will be my last London gig for a while.
Here's the ticket link, and information about the other artists:


Every morning for the past week the crows have woken me at 5.30 a.m. with their harsh yaarping and clanking. The sound reverberates around the backs of the houses; each squawk happens at random intervals and all the other birds, including the mellifluous song thrush that stands on top of the pollarded tree as though it's a pulpit, shut up to make space. Once I'm fully awake, the crows also shut up and the song thrush resumes. By that time, I can't go back to sleep.
Are they singing gorgeous songs in crowspeak? Are they 'humming to themselves' as they potter around the trees in the neighbours gardens? Are they tutting grumpily? Are they chatting amicably to their fledgelings?
All I know is that even earplugs don't work and I can't tune them out and return to dreamland. I have even thought of pasting a request to the window to politely invite them to stay asleep just an hour longer so I can catch up on much needed zeds. That's how sleepless I am.

Sunday, July 07, 2019

Weird Song

I remember hearing this on pirate radio.

Carroll Thompson and Janet Kay: The Queens of Lovers Rock Under The Bridge

There was a lot on in London last night and there was a strong competitor against this particular show, but I'm so glad that I made the decision to go. Janet Kay is performing with the Reggae Choir at the Shaw Theatre later this month and I'd just discovered that it has sold out, which might have swayed the decision.
Under the Bridge is a swanky venue attached to Chelsea Football Ground but it also a very audience-friendly place. The security guards have a light touch and are welcoming (I hope to God they are not on zero hours and get sacked before their workers rights kick in! What astonishingly cruel practices these agencies get away with!), and for an underground venue it has an amazingly spacious and airy feel to it.
Nat Augustin introduced the first artist, Hannah, who sang two songs. The first was the truest to the Lovers Rock spirit; the second was a cover of It's a Man's World which seemed like an odd choice probably made by her label. I would have liked to hear more, especially some more laid-back singing that I felt that she would have really had more affinity with. But who am I to talk? The whole evening made me feel like a complete imposter for even opening my mouth to squawk!
Nat sang one song (again, it would be nice to have heard more) before introducing Janet and Carroll. Boy do they look good! They must be the same age as me and they both look and sound as fresh as daisies. They took turns singing three songs each throughout the evening after singing a song together. It took a while to get used to the glitzy revue style of the show, but actually the warmth emanating from the stage and the really natural presentation of the two singers overrode any glittery fakery.
What a joy! Carrol's first song was Yesterday, my absolute favourite. Yes, I know all the words and so did the rest of the audience. Carroll is a producer and song writer, and any hurt she might feel at not having had a number one like Janet should be pushed to one side by the fact that almost everyone knew all the words to all of her songs and they roared along good naturedly, with her voice soaring above them; think Diana Ross, but more grounded.
Janet treated us to the most wonderful spirited sets. What was interesting was the way that the band was really responsive to the different styles of the two women. Carroll's songs are soulful whereas Janet is much more pop-orientated, and the band bounced during her set.
That voice!!!
I gave up trying to compare them and just settled into listening (and singing).
The only part that wasn't so engaging was the covers section because I know between them they have so much material, but I do understand that they both have albums to promote. It was great to hear Billy Stewart re-worked by Janet and yes, we all knew the words to those songs too.
At several points I almost burst into tears even though this was a very happy concert. I travelled with Pete Astor part of the train journey to Glasgow the other weekend and he was talking about the years after the age of 40 (or was it 50?) where you suddenly realise that you have lived most of your life, so everything you do takes on a deeper significance. I suppose it was partly that, but it was also remembering having seen these two singers and Nat Augustin, at the Albany Empire in Deptford in the mid 1980s. I have always adored Lover's Rock and even used to work with a band making this music at The Peckham Settlement back then; they were men, but their songs and their voices were absolutely of the genre. Philip Leo, Patrick.... I wonder what they are doing now?
The emotions that I felt last night came partly from reconnecting with my own past- so much of which has seems to have fallen into holes and disappeared. I realised I'm doing what I used to do in my early 20s- going to gigs on my own and just completely absorbing the music and songs and atmosphere. I have no idea if this is weird or not and I simply don't care: it must be the way I'm made.
The other side of it, though, was feeling the true affection from the audience for their singers. This was really similar to Pauline's gig the other week where the men were singing along too. Last night those male voices were part of the impromptu choir, from stringy tentative tenors to a real deep-throated baritone emanating from a chap I walked past who seemed to have come on his own and who was totally fixated on the music. People simply couldn't resit singing along, and this was remarkably touching to see and hear.
I left for the tube after Janet sang Silly Games. She could really give Minnie Ripperton a run for the money: Minnie is acrobatic, but Janet has the spirit and obvious headroom to sing higher if she needs to. What was amazing was that we all sang along and hit the high note too- or thought we did.
I travelled home squeaking gently to myself, wondering if it had just been an illusion.
Sorry, fellow tube-travellers!
(alas, no video: I accidentally left my phone at home, which was a blessing in disguise. But do look on Youtube. These women are fantastic and British Lover's Rock has got to be the most under-rated music genre of either the 20th or the 21st centuries).

Saturday, July 06, 2019


I always loved that Welsh saying 'I could sleep on a chicken's lip'.
My motor has been running non-stop since January. I am acutely aware that life has lows as well as highs, and I could do without quite so many reminders of this fact- but then that is part of the general human condition!
This weekend was going to be a period of complete rest, but the fact that Carroll Thompson and Janet Kay are doing a concert tonight proved utterly irresistible; even if I have to have a McSiesta this afternoon (=eating crisps in bed, a foul trait), then I'll do that to get there.
This week, Gideon Coe at BBC6 music has played two of my tracks (Saturday Night with the London Set from Green, and The Mad Bicycle Song from The Sea), and Gary Crowley has played my music on Radio London (A Good Life with a Bad Apple from Green). Robert Rotifer, Dave Hammond, Book of Lies and Colin's Cuts have also played songs from the new album on their shows. Every musician grafts at their career, but having had 25 years out of the business I have a huge amount of gratitude for their support and interest. I could never have imagined this happening (actually I could say that about almost everything, including becoming a mother).
This is the girl in the Sixth Form who was so quiet that most people though she was a French Exchange student.
I am still a quiet and peaceful person living on borrowed loudness in public.

Friday, July 05, 2019

Punk Scholars Network Screening

Big thanks to Laura and Frances for inviting me to show the film in Lincoln at the Punk Scholars Network Symposium.
Here are some photos of the screening- the papers that I heard beforehand were really stimulating and I know the symposium carried on today. The conversations before and after the screening were stimulating too. It was a stroke of genius to screen it in the gaming bar: what a perfect venue for a DIY film!
I walked through Newark from Newark Castle station to Newark Northgate straight through a grim and volatile boozers fight in a pub car park, that spilled on to the pavement and the road. I didn't want a konk on the nose so I slipped into Morrisons to get away, and bought a totally disgusting sandwich, but at least I didn't have to eat the entire tin of Fisherman's Friends, which had been the original plan. I found the chip shop just too late, unforchly.
I sat waiting for the train in blissful peace, admiring the twilight: the train platform lights vying for attention with the dusky sunset, and a cackling magpie in the bushes behind me.
Boy was I tired on the way home.

Airplay Yesterday: Gideon Coe

Funny, I was just coming home from Lincoln on the train and thinking about stuff like this, and someone tweeted me. Lincoln was great - the hosts were incredibly hospitable and the  documentary was screened in a tiny Gaming bar in the middle of Lincoln, played via a Playstation. Nice to see Pete Dale again in his capacity as an academic this time!

This track is on my album The Sea from 2017:

Friday, June 28, 2019

The Bay Hotel, Gourock

Thanks to Roddy Mackenzie for posting this ticket to Facebook. What a place it was! Passing bands got paid a minimal amount to play a gig to a bunch of teenagers bussed up from Greenock to The Bay Hotel, a golfer's paradise in Gourock, by its philanthropic owner. There was an ice making machine in the upstairs lobby that plopped quietly and relentlessly, and shoe-polishing machine.
We did this gig with Helen and the Horns, playing to a bunch of cavorting teenagers who certainly looked drunk, although they couldn't possibly have been (ask Roddy: he was there).
Bands got to eat as much as they wanted, and drink as much as they wanted.
After the teenagers were bussed home at bedtime, we sat up all night at the bar. Chris, our trumpet player, pulled the concertina-like plastic plant watering tubes out of the tubs of ferns, and serenaded up all with farty trumpet noises. We all talked nonsense, endlessly, before me and my then partner went up to the Honeymoon Suite where we'd been billeted, drank a bottle of champagne and got into the jacuzzi. I believe I may have thrown up in the jacuzzi, but that might just be a rumour.
Oh dear: rock'n'roll times and rock'n'roll stories!

Saturday She-Punks, As Cool As A Cucumber In Glasgow

Come! It's our last Doc'n'Roll screening! Huge thanks to Vanessa Lobon in particular, for being so supportive, funny and helpful. (There's another screening in Lincoln next week at the University)
Here is the ticket link:
It's much more than just a screening; there will be conversation afterwards, and an opportunity to ask questions.