There i was minding my own business and thinking about becoming a barber when i started writing songs again. And they were good. Then i couldn’t stop writing songs. Some of them were shit as well but most of them were good. The curtains were drawn and the feet were up on this game. I need to write and i need to play as much as i need to eat muesli. Essential. Keep writing and be nice, keep writing and be nice, keep writing and behave, keep writing and put my foot in any open doors.
Now i sit in a studio in Bristol with TJ Allen the producer and fine fellow. It’s grey outside and the rain hasn’t stopped all day. I’ve drunk too much tea but we’re alive and somehow we’ve made a fucking amazing album. Well, sixteen songs which is almost a double album and that may be going too far for a debut but we’ll narrow it to ten. There are ballads and hate filled belters, gothic piano screamers and gypsy trots, underground electro future classics and garage rock bandit rousers. Something for everyone. Motown might never call but the art exists and that’ll do for now. The stars may align and bring this album to minorities and masses but that is beyond my power so i’ll stay satisfied and grateful that i’ve done the best i can so far. One day soon i’ll get to play all these songs live with a band of merry Big Top Heartbreakers and when that time comes i can assure you that i will give every ounce of myself to every show and i’ll be whatever you want me to be.