Thursday, April 09, 2026

Belle and Sebastian and The Loft at The Royal Albert Hall

Ruth offered me a ticket for last night's gig; her partner Dave is the drummer for The Loft, and it was a lovely surprise to be able to go to the gig. 

We met for coffee and Dave came out to join us; The Loft's uber-fan John joined us too and we talked about awful gigs we'd been to (Lou Reed) and great ones (Black Sabbath for me, Stevie Wonder for him).

Ten out of ten for friendly staff at the venue. It makes such a difference to be treated like treasure instead of an inconvenience! Not a mobile phone in sight, no grumpy scrolling: just patient people on hand to help.

Much to our surprise, we were placed in a box with a fabulous view of the stage. 

In the distance, a tiny version of The Loft played a tight set of catchy songs. Andy Strickland, The Loft's guitarist, was clearly having the time of his life- you could see his smile miles away, and he was roaming the stage with a joyful stride. The set went down really well, especially the last almost Motorik song, and Campervan stood out as a great single. Pete was in fine voice, and the band did themselves proud.

After a short break, Belle and Sebastian came on with a backdrop of the studio where they recorded Tigermilk. Confident, delighted to have made the transition from The Borderline to The Royal Albert Hall via The Shepherd's Bush Empire, Stuart Murdoch appeared to be entirely comfortable on the stage. He was surrounded by new band members and originals (Chris Geddes on keyboards), and Tigermilk was played from start to finish, with the addition of founder member Isobel Campbell's recorded voice reading from Rip Van Winkle. At one point, he roamed through the audience and had a dance with delighted fans. He had a lot of stories: wandering round Glasgow being avoided by the cool musicians, crossing the road when they saw him because they knew he was going to ask them to be in his band, and travelling on the Central Line in London, now dubbed the 'hipsters line' after the Elizabeth Line (faster, funkier) has taken over it's east/west role.


Behind the band films ran through the songs- and there was Kenji, selecting albums from his shelves, there he was on the big screen at The Royal Albert Hall! The films were tuned in perfectly with the lyrics- I think Tita Geddes may have been involved somehow, and they were notable for their pitch-perfect DIY aesthetic.

I thought the most affecting song from their first set was Mary Jo, which really got me in the heart for some reason. All of their songs, however, were rooted in real life, and Stuart gave us potted contexts of where they started. This grounded them for people like me who are not familiar with the album, and the overall relaxed vibe coming from the stage was really appealing. I had to leave after the first set (smoke machine related health stuff), but I could hear them storming through the next part of the evening. What a wonderful way to spend a Wednesday evening! Big thanks to Ruth for the ticket!



A Week Tomorrow In Valencia

 


Tuesday, April 07, 2026

3 Scandi Dandies

 


E

I've been making recordings of the songs that I wrote in Newcastle. I got to the third one before I realised that they are all in the key of E. I don't like using a capo, but I need to use open strings; I guess they will all just have to stay in that key. And one of them's less than two minutes long.

It's getting progressively harder to record them because I did the easy ones first. I think I can do a bit more work on tomorrow's song and get it shipshape enough to record, but the last two need more work, particularly on the lyrics. I will have to take them for a walk.

Meanwhile, on a different guitar, I'm rehearsing the set for Valencia. My fingers have given up moaning about it, thank heavens.

Friday, April 03, 2026

Hurvin Anderson, Tate Britain

I absolutely loved this exhibition. I thought it would be really full, because it's Good Friday and a Bank Holiday but of course there's an exodus from London at Easter, and it was relatively empty.

Obviously, I am neither a man nor a person of Jamaican heritage, but there was something about the way Anderson 'sees' the things that he paints, first through the lens of a camera, and then through the process of painting, that really chimes with the way that I work. He also has a way of 'feeling' the humans in his paintings that was really recognisable. You could sense his connection with the subjects of his work.

And the colours- the town trees with their cast of greyness, the many different greens, the splashes of unexpectedness that bring a composition to life. It was so inspiring! The rendition of plants, and the way light and shadow catches their leaves, sometimes reminded me of Abel Rodriguez's paintings of the rainforest. I felt excited, and I felt love for these paintings. 

One huge canvas painted especially for the exhibition was almost like a graphic novel: panels next to each other, above and below, made a narrative of colour and juxtaposition of the historical and contemporary experiences of black Jamaicans that was as intriguing as it was well executed. A slave market was juxtaposed next to sportsmen winning a race. Even those two images spoke to each other in myriad different ways and could have been an exhibition in themselves.

There is a lot of repetition of ideas, although the ideas develop and morph. I loved this too- the sense that the project is not finished, and that his process of painting is an external experiment possibly with no end in sight. Painting, painting, until the image in the head materialises in front of you, or not... not quite right yet. The feelings have changed since the last time. Why not paint the same thing again and again? 

Brilliant. I'm going again, soon.



Thursday, April 02, 2026

Don't Talk About Epstein!

 


Recording Demos

I have two songs demoed this week. I'm not going to do any more until next week: I need to do a bit of working-out of guitar parts. Also, it's good to let the dust settle on the ones I've done already. 

Eight songs? Is that a ten-inch vinyl record? 

I might write more; who knows. I also began a song for my friend about Freud's white wolf, and re-recorded an oldie to learn for a festival later in the year. And I did a bit of drawing, and darned the green Christmas stocking that McMum knitted when I was a babby. I think I might be all created-out for the week.

I've been reading UK Subs' Charlie Harper's autobiography, because I'll be interviewing him at the John Peel Centre in June. It's a really lively book- what a life he's had! It is such a shame that creativity as an activity has been negatively subverted into entrepreneurship, which is all about capitalising on any shred of invention a person might have. People like Charlie have so much energy and drive that they make a dynamic scene wherever they go and whatever they do. His musicianship spans the fifties onwards, and I didn't realise that he was an accomplished hairdresser too. Maybe I'll come back from Suffolk with chopped hair!



Wednesday, April 01, 2026

Museum, Newcastle

 


Waiting In

I'm waiting in for 21 giclée prints to be delivered for the exhibition in Valencia. I'm on tenterhooks: did I choose suitable drawings to be printed? In the end, I added an extra one just in case.

Meanwhile, I can't do any recording because I won't hear the door if I have the headphones on. It's frustrating; yesterday I re-arranged an old song for the group of people who will be playing the Eel Pie festival with me, instead of recording a new one, but it was quite good to break in my guitar-playing fingers again.

The combo for the Eel Pie gig with be Ruth, Karina and Tom (Lester Square), which means that we'll have the opportunity to max out the vocal harmonies this time around. At some point this year, I'd love to do another London one with everybody- Jack, Gina, Robert and Terry- but Robert's going to be doing the Vienna Popfest and I decided that a condensed version of the group would be best for this one.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

HERE THEY ARE!







Friday, March 27, 2026

Jeff Tweedy

This is the last of twenty drawings of musicians that I'm going to exhibit in La Batisfera bookshop in Valencia from the 15th of April onwards, with a gig on Friday 17th. Most of the musicians are buskers and street musicians, but there are a few famous ones in the mix at the request of the bookshop owner.