writing and recording...

"Norway has trolls... so more power lines will be needed, that's just the way it is..."

word-up...

how the devil be thee?! all good i hope...?! life on planet bwoi has been proper hectic of late... mostly, as a way of celebrating the gradual return of my hearing, with the good stuff - the writing, the playing and the recording... and to make it just that lil' bit better, there's even a few gigs coming up...

happy time...

between one thing and another, there's definitely been a lot of writing recently... one i am hoping to debut on friday is tentatively called 'luggage', and has this kinda 'happy-eels' type vibe to it... there's a few more acoustic ones, that i shall be slipping into the set over the summer...

lately, i have been working on a couple of 'less' acoustic tunes... there's the TRE remix of 'Love Once', which has this retro-bigbeat/monster-synth vibe going on...

and then there's 'flatbread'... which is loosely based on a shopping list. initially i was aiming for a 90's b-side kinda vibe, with definite hints of 'go to the bank' by james... not a b-side i know, but definitely the kinda start point i was thinking of...

a flatbread, although not the one i was singing about...

it has admittedly 'wandered off' a bit, but is nearly finished and ready to make happy in your ear-holes...

its got aliens, flatbread, (conspiracy) intrigue, and a healthy slice of weirdness (whether or not the sound of pan-fried bacon makes it to the final mix remains to be seen)... pretty much what you've come to expect after all this time...

thus i shall leave you, for now, with this lil' couplet, which may/may-not explain something/everything/nothing [delete as applicable]...

"there's a little piece missing from deep inside the tiger...
there's a string-pull light sits on top of the mirror..."

alles klar?! though not...

i hope the world is good with y'all... i shall return, for now, to my beavering...

peace-out y'all

fb

tripping up over rizla

you gotta feel the word as it lollops off your tongue...

riz-la

kinda silky, yet kinda awkward...

riz-la

that z, just crying out at the abuses against its human rights that force it to be a 'z' rather than a much free-er 'th'...

riz-la

like a name on the wind...

riz-la

waiting patiently to trip you up...

riz-la

now stand in a queue in a shop, mentally running through your shopping list to make sure nothing has evaded you and you return from the shops triumphant, a hero, a true being of the age...

riz-la

you have the milk, the stuff of the shelf of decay, maybe even a cheeky bag of skittles, all of these items you can purchase without ever actually having to say anything to the cashier (should the mood strike you)

riz-la

and now we come to the items behind the counter, the items you can't have unless you interact directly with the aforementioned cashier - the security packaged razor blades, the pokemon cards, the...

riz-la

and watch how you just can't say it without sound like you have just completely lost the ability to talk, you watch as that 'z' jabs its way toward being a 'th', your tongue gets fat, and you can't even begin to say the word correctly...

riz-la

a drunken slurring in the middle, a enforced linguistic abbreviation, i don't know what it is... but all the time in the queue, and any other time chatting with your mates - no problem

riz-la

but right here, right now... no-go

riz-la

and it sounds like you can't talk...

riz-la

and you just hope the cashier doesn't ask you to repeat yourself...

riz-la

motorway driving

learnt me an important lesson today... listening to the beastie boys first thing in the morning can affect your outlook to the day in a manner similar to the shamen... the wailing down the motorway may have contributed to the feeling, (there ain't nothin' beats a slice of 'intergalatic' while the sun is sortin' its business out...) but the basic principle still holds...

although, truth be told, i didn't start the music until after the early morning shipping forecast... gotta love the shipping forecast (there's a whole bunch of gale-force action today btw)... its a proper soothing influence... if i ever pull up at home after a gig and the shipping forecast is on, no matter how much i need to go, nobody passes go until the forecast is done...

in the morning it does seem a bit more random (nonsensical) yet equally soothing... as with all unscientific studies this result may have been influenced by beastie-boy-contamination...

then i'm in tesco... event horizion top of the £5 dvd chart (and rightly so) in a lovely special edition box with a red cover (i quite like the red, although the green tinged faces of the original poster are truly iconic)... and there's a sweeper thingy... its beeping...

its not quite as funky as the dishwasher from the other day... but it would appear that i'm still making a beat in my head, except - disaster! the beep is about 1/32 too long and is jarring with the offbeat i'm putting in the last bar of the beat...

at this point i just want to wrestle the sweeper thingy off the attendant shouting "this lacks the funk of the dishwasher from the other day", and work my funky thang on the on-off switch to make it fit the beat, or at the very least get a bit of a remix goin' on...

but i restrained myself and continued to mooch around the shop... thinking about dishwashers

or more specifically how my certified crack-head parental unit used to soak and wash all the dishes before loading them into a prehistoric (5 car wide) borscht dishwasher (faded ancient black and yellowing plastic, used to put out about 95dB of random noise - beat that matlab!)... isn't that a bit like going up to your mate mike and saying "woof" with the purpose of expressing the notion you just bought a dog?

or...

well actually that's about as far as that thought got, cos by this point i was back to beatcraftin' with my mind...

kinda jazzy number, with a bit of a shuffle... some nice ride work, and then in came the upright bass...

happy time