Hello!
Sorry, its been a while. I apologise to those of you who have been e-mailing to see if I'm still alive. Well, just about, after the Bacchanalia that was Christmas and New Years 2009. I'm drinking nothing but Evian and eating only fruit from now until...well probably next week, but you have to at least start the year with good intentions.
2009 was a funny old year and one that I probably won't forget too quickly. A few horrible things happened that I've written about in previous posts, but also one large and very significant thing-
I wrote a novel. A messy, first time , dyslexic, crime-y, rock and roll ramble of a novel, that made my head hurt. And that has since changed into a well ordered , crime-y, rock and roll story of doomed youth and thwarted ambition, that was, I realise now, my baptism of fire into the world of novel writing. It was a thrilling, frustrating , enlightening, scary and rewarding experience and one that I want to encounter again, sooner rather than later with a new group of characters and a new set of questions. Although , I suppose I do have to finish this one first...
Ooh, and what terrible weather we're having...thought I better mention that. Here's a nice poem about it by Robert Frost , called "Dust of Snow".
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Jon Eydmann- one of the good guys...
I found out on Wednesday that a good friend of mine (and former manager of my band) Jon Eydmann, died whilst on holiday in Italy with his girlfriend and her son. Jon managed my band Adventure Club for two productive years and helped steer us through the murky and treacherous waters of the record industry.
I was introduced to Jon through a music publisher friend Jonny Kyte (Kyto). We'd been sending him down demo's of our album and he reckoned it was time to move forward and get the songs released on a proper label - but only if we had a manager. Well, six months down the line we were still manager-less, then , one rainy November day I got a call from Kyto.
"I've sent your stuff to this manager I know. I think it he may like it."
At this point after several failed attempts to click with or secure a trusty manager, I was a little jaded about the whole thing.
"Oh, right,OK...Has he managed any one before?" I said.
"Remember Suede?"
"He managed Suede?"
"Yep"
"Er, OK...send away."
The next day I'm staring at my computer at work, thinking about what the hell I am doing with my life trying to release an album. It was ridiculous. Everyone we'd sent it to , apart from Kyto, just didn't get us, we were destined to be another band that never got a deal... and then my phone buzzes on my desk.
"Hi it's Jon Eydmann. Kyto sent me your album? I think its really, really great. When you playing next?"
"We don't really have a band at the moment, it's just me the singer and a drum machine."
"Like The Pet Shop Boys?" he said dead pan.
"Erm, no.More like Erasure..."
"That's alright then. " he said and chuckled.
After that gig we spoke on the phone nearly every day for about two years. Apart from reassuring us again and again that we were actually good, and we would eventually get a deal, he was full of great stories about the industry and the crazy things that pop stars get up to.
Jon's management style reflected his personality - calm , considered and patient. Everyone who had worked with him , or the many bands he'd helped along the way, I'm sure would agree that he was a rare thing in the industry- a nice bloke who actually liked music. He helped a lot of people achieve or get closer to their dreams and that is a quality which is rare and should be applauded.
Cheers Jon. You will be missed.
I was introduced to Jon through a music publisher friend Jonny Kyte (Kyto). We'd been sending him down demo's of our album and he reckoned it was time to move forward and get the songs released on a proper label - but only if we had a manager. Well, six months down the line we were still manager-less, then , one rainy November day I got a call from Kyto.
"I've sent your stuff to this manager I know. I think it he may like it."
At this point after several failed attempts to click with or secure a trusty manager, I was a little jaded about the whole thing.
"Oh, right,OK...Has he managed any one before?" I said.
"Remember Suede?"
"He managed Suede?"
"Yep"
"Er, OK...send away."
The next day I'm staring at my computer at work, thinking about what the hell I am doing with my life trying to release an album. It was ridiculous. Everyone we'd sent it to , apart from Kyto, just didn't get us, we were destined to be another band that never got a deal... and then my phone buzzes on my desk.
"Hi it's Jon Eydmann. Kyto sent me your album? I think its really, really great. When you playing next?"
"We don't really have a band at the moment, it's just me the singer and a drum machine."
"Like The Pet Shop Boys?" he said dead pan.
"Erm, no.More like Erasure..."
"That's alright then. " he said and chuckled.
After that gig we spoke on the phone nearly every day for about two years. Apart from reassuring us again and again that we were actually good, and we would eventually get a deal, he was full of great stories about the industry and the crazy things that pop stars get up to.
Jon's management style reflected his personality - calm , considered and patient. Everyone who had worked with him , or the many bands he'd helped along the way, I'm sure would agree that he was a rare thing in the industry- a nice bloke who actually liked music. He helped a lot of people achieve or get closer to their dreams and that is a quality which is rare and should be applauded.
Cheers Jon. You will be missed.
Saturday, 29 August 2009
Oh Happy- 4
Black Books- Dylan Moran being tremendously witty. Always brings a smile to my boat race.
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Oh, Happy-2
I love this song and this is a rare clip of it being played live and being played well!
John Cale- Paris 1919.
John Cale- Paris 1919.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Oh, Happy Day.
In the next couple of weeks , while redrafting "27" , I'll be posting up clips , web sites and music, that alter my mood for the better. This is as much for my own sanity as your enjoyment, dear reader.
When I'm sick of looking at my own words I go to FFFFound! and view the eclectic collection of bizarre and beautiful images they have. Enjoy.
When I'm sick of looking at my own words I go to FFFFound! and view the eclectic collection of bizarre and beautiful images they have. Enjoy.
Tuesday, 21 July 2009
Thanks, Old Sport!
I watched the sports results the other day. Big deal huh? It is if you've never seen them in your life.
On that particular day I was barely watching the news, it was just a wash of pictures and sound- names and events that lead to horrendous outcomes. This is what happens when you have ingested too many toxic ideas. They infect your mind and turn it into one big seething single minded organism . This organism is too greedy to let any other information in - it wants you for it s self.
The voices of the newscasters , the rhythm of their speech and the downwardly inflected words had a slow , deep, swing. Concerned, authoritative, and seemingly without bias. All the tools needed to bring you stories of tragedy and ramped up pandemic paranoia. Gradually the plangent sway left my ears. Now they were full off chirpy high tones , quick and reassuring. the name of the football clubs , players with Russia, Brazilian , and Spanish names. Tennis players from Sweden and the Czech Republic, all sounded curlicued and complex, flat constants and accented vowels all running into each other.
Like a surreal poetry- musical and diverting, I was in the room again. It had some how acted as a kind of aural antibiotic.
Saturday afternoons maybe spent a aittle differently from now on.
On that particular day I was barely watching the news, it was just a wash of pictures and sound- names and events that lead to horrendous outcomes. This is what happens when you have ingested too many toxic ideas. They infect your mind and turn it into one big seething single minded organism . This organism is too greedy to let any other information in - it wants you for it s self.
The voices of the newscasters , the rhythm of their speech and the downwardly inflected words had a slow , deep, swing. Concerned, authoritative, and seemingly without bias. All the tools needed to bring you stories of tragedy and ramped up pandemic paranoia. Gradually the plangent sway left my ears. Now they were full off chirpy high tones , quick and reassuring. the name of the football clubs , players with Russia, Brazilian , and Spanish names. Tennis players from Sweden and the Czech Republic, all sounded curlicued and complex, flat constants and accented vowels all running into each other.
Like a surreal poetry- musical and diverting, I was in the room again. It had some how acted as a kind of aural antibiotic.
Saturday afternoons maybe spent a aittle differently from now on.
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