I bought a flight-case to take to North Carolina today. Being a fool, I bought one a size too small and will now have to take it back and exchange it. I phoned the shop, and they assumed I was calling them fools. But I reassured them it was I and not them who was a few suits short of a wardrobe.
When I got home, I went to buy some flea-killing tablets that you feed a cat. One of the members of my household was worried in case the tablets poisoned the cats as well as the fleas. Not in a pretty pink box with kittens on, I confidently replied. But then I thought, what a good disguise for poison! A pink box with kittens on it!
On the way to the pet shop I passed two African boys throwing crab-apples they'd picked up from the pavement at each other. 'Not while I'm walking past', I said. 'Sorry', they said. They stopped till I'd gone, and then I could hear the pelting each other furiously behind me.
Next, I saw a person who looked just like Mick Hucknall walking along with a budgie cage, looking very embarrassed. Do you think Mick Hucknall has a terrible nerdy secret? Perhaps he breeds budgies privately in a little semi in Barnet, watching them nut their little bells and gobble up seeds from a pressed seed-ring before haring off to play at Wembley to hordes of screaming middle aged ladies. Ha ha Mick! I know your secret! Give me a million pounds this instant or I will tell the News of the World!
What else? Well, I been playing my ukelele and fumbling a few chords on the piano. The new album, Polyhymnia, is nearly finished, just waiting for a little bit of sax from Paul, a little bit of guitar from Martin and perhaps a pinch of cello (Allan back again) to finish it off. Diana told me off for wanting to make a shapeless green jumper that looked like the nettle clothes for the cover photo. She says I've got to look glamorous so perhaps I'll ask Debbi if I can borrow one of her dresses. I want to find a perfect location to do the pics, but I'll have to listen to the music first to see where it tells me to go.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Toast
Had a catch-up yak with Dubulah yesterday. I was making toast at the time, and so, it transpires, was he. He had Marmite on his. I just had butter.
Today I went with a friend to the Duke of Uke to swap my mini-uke for a big 'un. Gina said it would be OK, and I'd been having trouble getting my sausages round the baby Uke. There was a uke she's signed up there on the wall!
It was tempting to go for an upgrade but I erred on the side of caution and parsimony, and got the same model only bigger.
I've just written a song on the piano, with my limited knowledge of chordery and stuff. I'll see how it sounds on the Rhodes down at Tom's, but may possibly record elsewhere, perhaps Goldtop in Camden if I can persuade them to give me a cheap morning, rock'n'roll dawn perhaps (that's about 11 a.m.)
Today I went with a friend to the Duke of Uke to swap my mini-uke for a big 'un. Gina said it would be OK, and I'd been having trouble getting my sausages round the baby Uke. There was a uke she's signed up there on the wall!
It was tempting to go for an upgrade but I erred on the side of caution and parsimony, and got the same model only bigger.
I've just written a song on the piano, with my limited knowledge of chordery and stuff. I'll see how it sounds on the Rhodes down at Tom's, but may possibly record elsewhere, perhaps Goldtop in Camden if I can persuade them to give me a cheap morning, rock'n'roll dawn perhaps (that's about 11 a.m.)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Fallendowntree
Just come back from the Fallendowntree on Hadley Common where I had some photos done. I hope they have come out well; I wasn't in a smiley mood due to lack of sleep, but maybe grumpiness will be in this season.
I wrote to Leonie Cooper to thank her for the Guardian article and the tip about the Duke of Uke, and I told her about Gina getting me a mini-uke and the only song I've started writing on it sounds like a punk song. She said I should record it and put it on my Mspace, so I've started to finish it.
Ramble, ramble, if I keep on writing I won't have to clean out the fish tank. All that is left in there are three neon tetras and a fat orange fish that hides and only comes out at night when the lights are off. Bit of a cheek really, could have a hamster that does that and it would be cuddly to boot.
My cousin's gerbils got so bored thy ate their own feet.
Sometimes I am tempted to do the same thing, but recently I've begun to value my feet much more.
Ramble, ramble, I wondered whether to become a politician after I mobilised our neighbours in Camberwell because we all had rats coming up in our toilets. the local councillor didn't turn up when we all went round to his surgery and I wrote him a very cross letter. He then came round to each person's house individually, and said I should think about becoming a local councillor. I did think about it for a nanosecond, eventually ending up working at the Labour Party HQ in Walworth Road for a year. All sorts of people who seem like a pain in public are actually nice- I was too impatient to use the lift and often used to bump into Jack Straw springing up the stairs.
Once or twice I took visiting politicians from emerging democracies to the Houses of Parliament, which they found hilarious, particularly Black Rod and the House of Lords. I took some to the leadership election where Tony Blair got elected, and they told me he was going to be the next Prime Minister. They could see that. I saw the press photographers trying to goad him into raising a clenched fist as Neil Kinnock had done at (was it?) Live Aid, which all the papers printed as some sort of sign that he was a communist. I saw that Cherie Blair was very pretty. I have never seen a photo printed ever where she looks nice.
Ramble, ramble.
Ah, brambles!
I think I'll go blackberry picking!
I wrote to Leonie Cooper to thank her for the Guardian article and the tip about the Duke of Uke, and I told her about Gina getting me a mini-uke and the only song I've started writing on it sounds like a punk song. She said I should record it and put it on my Mspace, so I've started to finish it.
Ramble, ramble, if I keep on writing I won't have to clean out the fish tank. All that is left in there are three neon tetras and a fat orange fish that hides and only comes out at night when the lights are off. Bit of a cheek really, could have a hamster that does that and it would be cuddly to boot.
My cousin's gerbils got so bored thy ate their own feet.
Sometimes I am tempted to do the same thing, but recently I've begun to value my feet much more.
Ramble, ramble, I wondered whether to become a politician after I mobilised our neighbours in Camberwell because we all had rats coming up in our toilets. the local councillor didn't turn up when we all went round to his surgery and I wrote him a very cross letter. He then came round to each person's house individually, and said I should think about becoming a local councillor. I did think about it for a nanosecond, eventually ending up working at the Labour Party HQ in Walworth Road for a year. All sorts of people who seem like a pain in public are actually nice- I was too impatient to use the lift and often used to bump into Jack Straw springing up the stairs.
Once or twice I took visiting politicians from emerging democracies to the Houses of Parliament, which they found hilarious, particularly Black Rod and the House of Lords. I took some to the leadership election where Tony Blair got elected, and they told me he was going to be the next Prime Minister. They could see that. I saw the press photographers trying to goad him into raising a clenched fist as Neil Kinnock had done at (was it?) Live Aid, which all the papers printed as some sort of sign that he was a communist. I saw that Cherie Blair was very pretty. I have never seen a photo printed ever where she looks nice.
Ramble, ramble.
Ah, brambles!
I think I'll go blackberry picking!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Walking: a list
Through the Camden Market foodsmoke, past the East European accordion player under the damp bridge,and the sinister dark grey visiting barges.
London Zoo, and the monkeys'chatter.
Pedestrians and cyclists arguing about whether cycling is allowed.
Snatches of converstion from people moving at a different pace to me. Elderly people resting on benches in the sun.
Weeping willows, tree of trees, dipping their dreadlocks into the canal.
Gentle puffing and lapping as houseboats glide past, silent as cats, leaving chopping water in their wake.
Just me and the sun and childrens' shouts in the distance.
A cough. Hyper-real sound.
A man cycling in a top hat.
The lovely smell of green in the city.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Gullible's Trabbles
When I was a little girl, McDad used to take me and Big Bruv to the Hancock Museum in Newcastle.
There were lots of boats and mechanical things, but also a room full of stuffed animal heads poking out of the wall.
Imagine my excitement when McDad said "Let's go next door now and see the bodies; they are on the other side of the wall in the next room'.
********************* little stars to tell us that idea is finished and another one about to begin
I think I am coming to the conclusion that the best songwriters have the ability to recognise a crap song when they've written one and throw it away, pretending it never existed in the first place.
How I wish I had this ability myself.
I wonder if it's too late?
There were lots of boats and mechanical things, but also a room full of stuffed animal heads poking out of the wall.
Imagine my excitement when McDad said "Let's go next door now and see the bodies; they are on the other side of the wall in the next room'.
********************* little stars to tell us that idea is finished and another one about to begin
I think I am coming to the conclusion that the best songwriters have the ability to recognise a crap song when they've written one and throw it away, pretending it never existed in the first place.
How I wish I had this ability myself.
I wonder if it's too late?
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Studio
Allan Bradbury came to play cello on some of the new tracks, fighting through my incompetent attempt at writing dots to come up with some lovely playing.
Meanwhile, Tom's been seduced by Protools and its coat of many colours, abandoning grey and pink Logic, the bullfinch of programmes, for a computer screen that looks like a Marimekko print. I thought of making a t-shirt for each song on the new album, featuring the Protools screen with its primary-coloured soundwaves across the front.
Logic tracks always used to remind me of mountainous landscapes reflected in still lakes.
Twee, ain't I?
Tomorrow, guitars; Martin's Martin, and some megabackingvocals, even though I've been telling everyone I'm gonna keep it simple this time round!
Listening... to Nick Drake. Why have I never listened to him before? I play guitar a bit like him sometimes- it was so funny listening to his songs and understanding what he was doing and why he was doing it. He also writes weirder songs thatn me which is very comforting because he is famous. This means I can reinstate some of my more peculiar songs without being worried that they sound silly.
You know, when I was a teenager in the Northeast, Southerners seemed very mysterious and clever, as romantically different from us as those Motowners across the pond, or even the Staxers or the FamilyStoners.
Meanwhile, Tom's been seduced by Protools and its coat of many colours, abandoning grey and pink Logic, the bullfinch of programmes, for a computer screen that looks like a Marimekko print. I thought of making a t-shirt for each song on the new album, featuring the Protools screen with its primary-coloured soundwaves across the front.
Logic tracks always used to remind me of mountainous landscapes reflected in still lakes.
Twee, ain't I?
Tomorrow, guitars; Martin's Martin, and some megabackingvocals, even though I've been telling everyone I'm gonna keep it simple this time round!
Listening... to Nick Drake. Why have I never listened to him before? I play guitar a bit like him sometimes- it was so funny listening to his songs and understanding what he was doing and why he was doing it. He also writes weirder songs thatn me which is very comforting because he is famous. This means I can reinstate some of my more peculiar songs without being worried that they sound silly.
You know, when I was a teenager in the Northeast, Southerners seemed very mysterious and clever, as romantically different from us as those Motowners across the pond, or even the Staxers or the FamilyStoners.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Ouch
I had surgery upon my eyelid yesterday, and will spare you the details. Suffice to say that I have to prepare a blend of pink and blue eyeshadow to make the left eye match the right eye, as I am meeting up with Caroline Coon today to give her her copy of the Lost Women of Rock Music. I am so looking forward to seeing her, as she is huge fun and I haven't seen her since the party.
The University of the East have said they want to do a launch too, which is great news. This is going to be a boat with more launches than anything else I think; different flavours, different locations, different crews.
Nothing else to report today, apart from the fact that I am the only person in the house that allows the cats to sit on me; having been a ghastly squatter years ago, I'm completely immune to flea bites and can watch the blighters hop on and then off me in frustration because I am not a tasty morsel at all, I'm a bitter old hag that tastes of grapefruit and vinegar.
I have been offered lots of gigs in the autumn and I am inclined to say yes to them all as they are all over the place and they sound like fun. I also think at some point I will have finished the next album and will be able to take that along with me. But just playing live is such a blast, I do really like it; it's like having a blood transfusion, all the miserable watery grey blood replaced by happy red corpsuckles full of oxygen and birthday presents.
Or something like that.
I think I probably got up too early this morning.
The University of the East have said they want to do a launch too, which is great news. This is going to be a boat with more launches than anything else I think; different flavours, different locations, different crews.
Nothing else to report today, apart from the fact that I am the only person in the house that allows the cats to sit on me; having been a ghastly squatter years ago, I'm completely immune to flea bites and can watch the blighters hop on and then off me in frustration because I am not a tasty morsel at all, I'm a bitter old hag that tastes of grapefruit and vinegar.
I have been offered lots of gigs in the autumn and I am inclined to say yes to them all as they are all over the place and they sound like fun. I also think at some point I will have finished the next album and will be able to take that along with me. But just playing live is such a blast, I do really like it; it's like having a blood transfusion, all the miserable watery grey blood replaced by happy red corpsuckles full of oxygen and birthday presents.
Or something like that.
I think I probably got up too early this morning.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Bells and Moss
BINGBANGBONGBUNGDINGDANGDONGDUNG!
BINGBANGBONGBUNGDINGDANGDONGDUNG!
Yes, it's the Barnet campanologists ringing dem bells again!
If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, said McMum, so I learned the bellringers craft in Wylam Parish Church, ringing the little bell (still a big bell) every Monday night with Stella Jackson and Simon Brough, my friends, and Australian man with a goatee who taught us what to do, and some older people who I've forgotten because I was young and silly and when you're young and silly, older people are invisible.
BINGBANGBONGBUNGDINGDANGDONGDUNG!
At the weekend, it was the chants from the Barnet ground floating up; the footy season has started again and for a little ground, those Barnet fans sure as heck make a noise. I'm gonna go to a match again soon; it's fun there 'cos you can see everything and they still have terraces.
The sounds of (human) nature!
About moss... well, perhaps the nettle garments that Eliza made for the thirteen swan princes... I'm going to get some dark green mohair and knit a big green sweater for winter. Maybe I will wear it for the cover photo of the next CD, a nice frumpy look, or maybe in my best dress halfway up a tree.
What plans this week, McCookerybook? Well, meeting Caroline tomorrow to give her her book (I bet I forget to take it!), recording cello parts on Wednesday and guitar parts on Thursday, may go to see Shimmy Rivers and Canal on Wednesday (they are good, they remind me of Blurt)
What me been listening to? well, High 7 Moon 5 by Martin Stephenson, which is really, really good (in spite of the fact that I sing on it) and made the chores a whole lot more bearable today (still clearing up after rats),and also the CD by Wet Dog which is packed full of energy and catchy songs. They have a Myspace, check them out, they're great. Perhaps a good band for Offline, Mike!
What have I been eating? Strawberries, of course, little red cheerful things!
BINGBANGBONGBUNGDINGDANGDONGDUNG!
Yes, it's the Barnet campanologists ringing dem bells again!
If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, said McMum, so I learned the bellringers craft in Wylam Parish Church, ringing the little bell (still a big bell) every Monday night with Stella Jackson and Simon Brough, my friends, and Australian man with a goatee who taught us what to do, and some older people who I've forgotten because I was young and silly and when you're young and silly, older people are invisible.
BINGBANGBONGBUNGDINGDANGDONGDUNG!
At the weekend, it was the chants from the Barnet ground floating up; the footy season has started again and for a little ground, those Barnet fans sure as heck make a noise. I'm gonna go to a match again soon; it's fun there 'cos you can see everything and they still have terraces.
The sounds of (human) nature!
About moss... well, perhaps the nettle garments that Eliza made for the thirteen swan princes... I'm going to get some dark green mohair and knit a big green sweater for winter. Maybe I will wear it for the cover photo of the next CD, a nice frumpy look, or maybe in my best dress halfway up a tree.
What plans this week, McCookerybook? Well, meeting Caroline tomorrow to give her her book (I bet I forget to take it!), recording cello parts on Wednesday and guitar parts on Thursday, may go to see Shimmy Rivers and Canal on Wednesday (they are good, they remind me of Blurt)
What me been listening to? well, High 7 Moon 5 by Martin Stephenson, which is really, really good (in spite of the fact that I sing on it) and made the chores a whole lot more bearable today (still clearing up after rats),and also the CD by Wet Dog which is packed full of energy and catchy songs. They have a Myspace, check them out, they're great. Perhaps a good band for Offline, Mike!
What have I been eating? Strawberries, of course, little red cheerful things!
Saturday, August 18, 2007
The Green Man Festival, Friday
This is a great festival- what a good atmosphere, not too many people, really easy to find your way around, not too muddy even though it was raining, and fantastic food.
Mufti ( of 'Swan' fame) and Sara were there, all cheerful; they had baggsed a space in front of the stage with their huge brolly. Mufti was having a snooze under it, but I bumped into Sara at the coffee tent. I'm definitely going again next year. I want to sit at that big bonfire and sing at midnight.
Joanna Newsom was playing on the main stage at the end, but I was running around on the grass- so great to be out in the wilds of Wales!- and wasn't paying attention, although I do like her stuff.
My car is full of grass off my feet, which I find a blissfully attractive customisation. I'm keeping it there.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Chilly night in Camden; nice warm gig
It was Folk in Cellar last night, such a lovely place to play.
This time, instead of being singer-songwriters playing to singer-songwriters with guitar cases all over tha tables, it was pretty packed, and a rough-and-tumble of performers. Still loads of guitar cases, but the audience outnumbered the acts (just).
As usual it was a mixture of folk, folk-tinged songwriting, and young whippersnappers plying their trade. I did a short set with Martin, including the Airship Song which is off his new CD, High 7 Moon 5. Stephen from What's Cookin' came along with bagfuls of CDs for him, hot off the press; Jim got up and played fiddle for a couple of songs. Martin accompanied me on Heaven Avenue; we played Loverman. Then out of the back of the pub we all went to yak; it backs on the the Regent's Canal. It was cold, but very amicable. My Champagne Friend came along, Rowen came, Peter Knight on his trusty bicycle, McSis and Paul, and assorted Hairy Country Music Types in assorted Neo-Country Hats. High 7 Moon 5 has had a very good review in some magazine or other (I can't remember what it's called!)
I'm up early this morning as the Ratso Men are coming. One of the cats tells me there's another dead rat in the cupboard but she may be wrong. I do hope so.
Then down to Merthyr Tydfil this afternoon to play a couple of songs at the Green Man in a tent; Hey-ho!
This time, instead of being singer-songwriters playing to singer-songwriters with guitar cases all over tha tables, it was pretty packed, and a rough-and-tumble of performers. Still loads of guitar cases, but the audience outnumbered the acts (just).
As usual it was a mixture of folk, folk-tinged songwriting, and young whippersnappers plying their trade. I did a short set with Martin, including the Airship Song which is off his new CD, High 7 Moon 5. Stephen from What's Cookin' came along with bagfuls of CDs for him, hot off the press; Jim got up and played fiddle for a couple of songs. Martin accompanied me on Heaven Avenue; we played Loverman. Then out of the back of the pub we all went to yak; it backs on the the Regent's Canal. It was cold, but very amicable. My Champagne Friend came along, Rowen came, Peter Knight on his trusty bicycle, McSis and Paul, and assorted Hairy Country Music Types in assorted Neo-Country Hats. High 7 Moon 5 has had a very good review in some magazine or other (I can't remember what it's called!)
I'm up early this morning as the Ratso Men are coming. One of the cats tells me there's another dead rat in the cupboard but she may be wrong. I do hope so.
Then down to Merthyr Tydfil this afternoon to play a couple of songs at the Green Man in a tent; Hey-ho!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Hot off the Press
I've just come back from recording at Tom's, re-recording and adding some BVs to 'It Was a Bad Day'.
I've put it up on Myspace. I'm still gonna do a bit more to it but it's changed dramatically.
Also, I'm playing at the Constitution pub in St Pancras Way tomorrow evening. Martin Stephenson's playing too.
It is free to get in.
I've just eaten 3 walnut whips for a late lunch and am now suffering from sugar fatigue, which is infinitely preferable to rat-fatigue, or ratigue as I believe it's known.
Also also, my hair is getting long and my head is hot as a result.
I can't decide whether to lop it all off, or whether to put up with it until winter, when its benefits will be apparent.
The troubles we middle-aged suburban housewives have to put up with.
Urgh.
I've put it up on Myspace. I'm still gonna do a bit more to it but it's changed dramatically.
Also, I'm playing at the Constitution pub in St Pancras Way tomorrow evening. Martin Stephenson's playing too.
It is free to get in.
I've just eaten 3 walnut whips for a late lunch and am now suffering from sugar fatigue, which is infinitely preferable to rat-fatigue, or ratigue as I believe it's known.
Also also, my hair is getting long and my head is hot as a result.
I can't decide whether to lop it all off, or whether to put up with it until winter, when its benefits will be apparent.
The troubles we middle-aged suburban housewives have to put up with.
Urgh.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Wet Dog
That support band was called Wet Dog- here's a photo of them. Their guitarist was very good, and they did lots of short punchy songs that had great riffs. I think I'd go and see them again because they had a bit of bite to them.
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