Singing with Robert Rotifer at The Lexington on Saturday

I sang on four songs on Saturday night. It just wasn't feasible to rehearse more from the album, with Paul Pfleger moving from keyboard to drums (Ian Button was away with Swansea Sound). Although the onstage sound was difficult, we managed to put on a good show, I think- I could see the woman behind the bar dancing, and that is always the Litmus test of a good gig!

I feel so uncomfortable without a guitar, though. I did mum dancing. It just reminds me that the only reason I go on stage most of the time is to play my own songs. If somebody else would do it instead, I'd be very happy! Breaking into writing, or co-writing, is a whole different ballgame that I don't know the rules of, so I guess it's me and my guitar on the train to here and there, for as long as I can go on! The events of the past few days have reminded me of the benefits of being a solo artist. Festivals aren't keen on solo artists (unless they are mega famous) apart from the odd one like Rebellion, but the churn of band members and the headache of organising rehearsals... when it's just me, it's so much easier. 

And the upset! Almost every band that I know has a steady throughput of band members who don't always feel that happy about being 'moved on'. Oh reader, you simply don't know! It's a perilous business with the most incomprehensible etiquette you could possibly imagine. 

Yet we stand up there, smile and sing our songs, and something about the lifestyle and the routine keeps us all at it. Personally, I find other people's music fascinating most of the time, like puzzles and games or something. All those sounds that speak to each other in a song, shifting the ground under your feet, with lyrics embedded into the music with a certainty that defies any sort of oddity. Then the timbres of the voices of the singer(s) who bite and chew and float glorious melodies over the whole lot, translating it all for the people who stand there, watching and listening to every detail. That itself is a magical process that drives creative curiosity into the realms of the spiritual.

Yes, and most of those disgruntled band members pick themselves up and jump straight into the river again, throwing off their grudges as new excitements come their way. I feel so lucky to have experienced this adventure in my life, or these adventures, because no two seconds are the same.

Anyway, maybe after all that you'd like to hear one of Robert's songs! This is Man in Sandwich Board, from Saturday.