Dispersal
Whilst I was in the shower this morning, I started thinking of answers to questions no-one had asked:
“That’s very kind of you to say so, Jonathan. Well, you’re right but I’ve always liked to call it ‘English approximation of Scottish rock music’”
I had a similar thing last week as I tried to sleep off some jet-lag. I thought it would be a good idea to invite some members of the crowd up to clap along to our last song. But then when we did play to an audience last Friday, as the particular moment in question came and went, I thought that the song was a wee bit sombre for crowd participation. Despite the best (and appreciated) efforts of those in the front row.
Maybe we need a Motown song: “Clap on the 2 and the 4!” We did try a Motown beat once but it didn’t quite work and morphed into the Smashing Pumpkins instead. Our white, distinctly non-soulful roots always betray us.
After spending so many months writing about an impending recording schedule, we finally came through on our promises but we’ve somehow now found ourselves at a slight junction. In the hope of making it sound more interesting than it would be if I simply told you, I can’t go into specifics about either of these roads. Rest assured that, very shortly, you will know about something. And hopefully it will be worth getting excited about.
Still, the more eagle-eyed amongst you may have noticed a change around the place which bears secret fruit. New visitors won’t notice this change but benefit all the same. It’s a bit like The Great Escape. I am David McCallum as Ashley-Pitt and I have come up with an ingenious way of getting sensitive materials out under the watchful gaze of those in charge.
Until “very shortly” then, we’re playing a few more shows around the local area. Some late festival things and support performances, that sort of thing. We made our first concerted effort last week for the live show and I think it was a positive response, at least on stage. It’s always nice to feel like everything is a bit more busy and it’s not just you standing in front of a microphone.
The house is starting to get a little bit cold in the evenings now. Previous winters have tested the limits of human and feline endurance so hopefully this one will be a bit more bearable. Somehow, every house we’ve lived in has operated on a gas card.
Even when it is directly uncomfortable, our nostalgia knows no bounds.
DB x
