It's 2008 mother-lovers.
2007 was a grand pile of months for us, we started, we played, recorded and performed. Some gigs were unbelievable, supporting Idlewild at Fat Sams for example, and playing in the Balcony Bar in the height of summer and making the walls sweat. Some were less good, but I shan't dwell.
We are two gigs into 2008, both played with a fractured elbow (I love saying that, makes me feel like an indie war hero), both played with gusto and mild confusion. We are going to get very good this year. I have had enough of arsing about being half involved, making good, but not great music, drinking for sport and the likes. The hard work is upon us, I cant wait. As usual, new songs are all over the place, most unfinished, but once again a step in the right direction. By the summer we will be an unstoppable force. I am trying to convince myself of this, as well as anyone reading. I do pray.
We hope to get some recording done next month, lovely big recordings.
I can't really think of anything worth saying today.
x
Monday, 14 January 2008
Saturday, 8 December 2007
A Christmas Wish
I wish I had no penis, no sexual drives, or motives, and no alluring qualities to others. I wish I was incapable of love and hate and all the sparks in between. These cause mental loops that bend logic and position. I want to like people, a middle ground, get along in the nice world where I could be content.
I feel like that guy from the first Matirx film, the one who wanted to be wired back into the dreamworld and not remember a thing. Ignorance. Bliss.
I wish I could stop chasing stupid dreams, not have to be someone I'm never going to be. I wish I didn't have to rely on anyone else. I want to worry about debts and and homes and work. I want to get drunk at the weekend with drunken friends who talk about sport, TV and breast, but nothing deeper, without actually being dependant on alcohol.
I wish I could throw a punch without thinking, protect the honour of young ladies in distress, not care for consequence, not be a coward.
This Christmas, old Saint Nick, I would like my mind back.
x
I feel like that guy from the first Matirx film, the one who wanted to be wired back into the dreamworld and not remember a thing. Ignorance. Bliss.
I wish I could stop chasing stupid dreams, not have to be someone I'm never going to be. I wish I didn't have to rely on anyone else. I want to worry about debts and and homes and work. I want to get drunk at the weekend with drunken friends who talk about sport, TV and breast, but nothing deeper, without actually being dependant on alcohol.
I wish I could throw a punch without thinking, protect the honour of young ladies in distress, not care for consequence, not be a coward.
This Christmas, old Saint Nick, I would like my mind back.
x
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
...continued madness.....
Hello Again.
Since yesterday afternoon , when I started rambling nonsense about space and atoms, I have continued to confuse myself to the point where I hope I can now be calm. After attempting to sleep for quite some time last night I was forced to eventually get up, put on a light and sit in an early morning trance.
I get fairly obsessive about a lot of things, loose a lot of sleep and look grizzly for days on end, but these are usually things like recording music, my own personal future, experience and relationships with others. But over the last couple of days increasing thoughts about the size of the universe and such like has pushed my craziness buttons to new extremes. But in the end, out of all of this I think surprisingly what I have come away with is a slight opening towards religion.
I can't get my head around the idea of something being infinite, so lean towards the idea that this universe or cosmos even, I dunno really, having had a start. And I suppose ultimately having an end. But what starts EVERYTHING? If the universe started with the big bang, with a tiny pin sized spec that contained the means and tools to create everything just blowing up and expanding beyond reason, then what made it start. I have read some other theories about how it might have all kicked off, but with every new one I have to keep asking why the first action happened, I feel like a four year old child, constantly repeating myself. Maybe something did intentionally start it all, a creator? But it's nigh on impossible to take in any idea of an overall god when the religions we are fed these days consist of fairy tales and huge amounts of utter nonsense.
I think I may have settled down a bit now, with every thought coming to a dead-end I have to give up, I am never going to have the means to go back billions of years to see the start of it all, to ask questions back then, and in my life time I wont ever be able to travel to the furthest reaches of the universe to see whats going on there. It's a bit of a nuisance, but one we all have to suffer. Human life looks to be a tiny ink dot on the long, long rope of time, so we just have to fire on with it. All we appear to have for certain are our senses, keep them all happy and tingling for as long as we are alive, then maybe we'll get some answers when we croak, or maybe the lights will just go out forever, we will never know. But thankfully the thing that turns me on the most is music, and I get to make it and perform it so I can be a happy little beaver for now.
At least I now have a hobby when I'm not playing music. Part-time geek.
xxx
Since yesterday afternoon , when I started rambling nonsense about space and atoms, I have continued to confuse myself to the point where I hope I can now be calm. After attempting to sleep for quite some time last night I was forced to eventually get up, put on a light and sit in an early morning trance.
I get fairly obsessive about a lot of things, loose a lot of sleep and look grizzly for days on end, but these are usually things like recording music, my own personal future, experience and relationships with others. But over the last couple of days increasing thoughts about the size of the universe and such like has pushed my craziness buttons to new extremes. But in the end, out of all of this I think surprisingly what I have come away with is a slight opening towards religion.
I can't get my head around the idea of something being infinite, so lean towards the idea that this universe or cosmos even, I dunno really, having had a start. And I suppose ultimately having an end. But what starts EVERYTHING? If the universe started with the big bang, with a tiny pin sized spec that contained the means and tools to create everything just blowing up and expanding beyond reason, then what made it start. I have read some other theories about how it might have all kicked off, but with every new one I have to keep asking why the first action happened, I feel like a four year old child, constantly repeating myself. Maybe something did intentionally start it all, a creator? But it's nigh on impossible to take in any idea of an overall god when the religions we are fed these days consist of fairy tales and huge amounts of utter nonsense.
I think I may have settled down a bit now, with every thought coming to a dead-end I have to give up, I am never going to have the means to go back billions of years to see the start of it all, to ask questions back then, and in my life time I wont ever be able to travel to the furthest reaches of the universe to see whats going on there. It's a bit of a nuisance, but one we all have to suffer. Human life looks to be a tiny ink dot on the long, long rope of time, so we just have to fire on with it. All we appear to have for certain are our senses, keep them all happy and tingling for as long as we are alive, then maybe we'll get some answers when we croak, or maybe the lights will just go out forever, we will never know. But thankfully the thing that turns me on the most is music, and I get to make it and perform it so I can be a happy little beaver for now.
At least I now have a hobby when I'm not playing music. Part-time geek.
xxx
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
Screaming at the stars
Hello.
I have come to the conclusion that science is not good for my mind. Learning any new interesting scientific issue always seems to take me one step closer to madness. But sadly I'm hooked. I am Amy Whinehouse and physics is my crack.
At school I never really gave a shit about it, dropping all subjects as soon as I had the chance, but these days I find myself drawn to every late night documentary with a hint of a geek factor and buy New fucking Scientist magazine most Fridays. I have a thirst, not so much for learning equations and the likes (E=Mc etc etc is as far as I go), but for the ideas and facts. I recently discovered that there is a planet in another solar system that is bigger than Jupiter but due to its mass it could easily float on water. THAT'S FUCKING NUTS. When you think about it, it really boggles.
I often go into these loops of thought about how fucking massive the universe is and daft unmanageable issues like that, compare them to the insignificant shite in every day life, then decide that I am in fact a massive bollock. We may be small, but in context to our lives, the things we go through (imagination, love, death, murder etc) are huge and are really the only things that matter. I'm more than likely never going to get to try and float a planet on an ocean for a giggle, so might as well stick to plain old beer and sexual unfulfilment. I could twat on for days about this shite, but as I say to begin with, I feel it would send me proper mental.
Once again BBC4 has played it's part in my wanderings. Tuesdays nights recently have been comprised of two main TV shows for me, Visions of The Future and The Martians and Us (I think that's what its called anyway). Last night on Visions of The Future there was talk of creating these Nano-bot devices out of a tiny number of atoms, these were little machines that could be injected into our blood streams to target diseases and combat general ill-health, really really small things that could be controlled by man, inside the body, made from the atoms of bacteria and such like. The benefits of these were huge, but as usual there is a massive downside. Something so powerful could easily be used for weapons, super advanced chemical warfare destroying us cell by cell. Or alternatively, like all bactertia, these Nano-bots could multiply until they consumed all living cells on earth. Its a horrible dilemma, advancing the human race, as well as putting us in extreme danger. I guess it's more of a human nature issue, we are right bastards when it comes down to it, and will find destructive qualities in all advances.
The other show is all about the history of British Sci-fi, so I find myself now wandering book shops looking for odd books about Utopian societies on far away planets. Every idea raised confuses and excites me in equal measure, most probably due to my own naivete or lack of knowledge.
X
I have come to the conclusion that science is not good for my mind. Learning any new interesting scientific issue always seems to take me one step closer to madness. But sadly I'm hooked. I am Amy Whinehouse and physics is my crack.
At school I never really gave a shit about it, dropping all subjects as soon as I had the chance, but these days I find myself drawn to every late night documentary with a hint of a geek factor and buy New fucking Scientist magazine most Fridays. I have a thirst, not so much for learning equations and the likes (E=Mc etc etc is as far as I go), but for the ideas and facts. I recently discovered that there is a planet in another solar system that is bigger than Jupiter but due to its mass it could easily float on water. THAT'S FUCKING NUTS. When you think about it, it really boggles.
I often go into these loops of thought about how fucking massive the universe is and daft unmanageable issues like that, compare them to the insignificant shite in every day life, then decide that I am in fact a massive bollock. We may be small, but in context to our lives, the things we go through (imagination, love, death, murder etc) are huge and are really the only things that matter. I'm more than likely never going to get to try and float a planet on an ocean for a giggle, so might as well stick to plain old beer and sexual unfulfilment. I could twat on for days about this shite, but as I say to begin with, I feel it would send me proper mental.
Once again BBC4 has played it's part in my wanderings. Tuesdays nights recently have been comprised of two main TV shows for me, Visions of The Future and The Martians and Us (I think that's what its called anyway). Last night on Visions of The Future there was talk of creating these Nano-bot devices out of a tiny number of atoms, these were little machines that could be injected into our blood streams to target diseases and combat general ill-health, really really small things that could be controlled by man, inside the body, made from the atoms of bacteria and such like. The benefits of these were huge, but as usual there is a massive downside. Something so powerful could easily be used for weapons, super advanced chemical warfare destroying us cell by cell. Or alternatively, like all bactertia, these Nano-bots could multiply until they consumed all living cells on earth. Its a horrible dilemma, advancing the human race, as well as putting us in extreme danger. I guess it's more of a human nature issue, we are right bastards when it comes down to it, and will find destructive qualities in all advances.
The other show is all about the history of British Sci-fi, so I find myself now wandering book shops looking for odd books about Utopian societies on far away planets. Every idea raised confuses and excites me in equal measure, most probably due to my own naivete or lack of knowledge.
X
Monday, 19 November 2007
Bloody bloody....
His lip began to quiver
as he gave in to rage
and spilled a million white cells
across a blackened page
He seen this as the answer
to questions always asked
He'd find perfect couplet
by tearing out his heart
as he gave in to rage
and spilled a million white cells
across a blackened page
He seen this as the answer
to questions always asked
He'd find perfect couplet
by tearing out his heart
Wednesday, 24 October 2007
PONEY RIDEZ!
This past weekend we played our biggest gig ever. Supporting Idlewild at Fat Sam's live in Dundee.
A few weeks ago we supported The Departure in Edinburgh and Dundee. The gigs were super sweet, and the Departure were an amazing live band and all round grand human beings. The day after the Dundee gig, whilst we were still in a mild state of post-orgasmic chill, we received an e-mail asking if we would support Idlewild in Dundee. We promptly said "Awooga, a hell yeeah!". So Saturday came, we recruited one Daniel Quinn from local indie kings Dave? to help us sound-check while Markie worked hard in his hellish day job, then we hit Fat Sam's and did all the technical tomfoolery. Doors were at 7.30pm, we were to go on at 8pm, so from about 6pm we sat upstairs in the venue, quietly drinking and climbing anything that could be climbed and killing the minutes. 8pm came along, we trotted out expecting the early comers and venue staff to be standing in a mostly empty room, we were wrong. The place was darn busy, we played in front of a few hundred people and were happy as Annie!
The rest of the evening was filled with blagging VIP passes, stealing headline acts rider and playing Frisbee on a tanked up Ned street. Glory.
Next up we are off to Glasgow (I hope, once again day jobs are putting the trip under threat), then its back in Dundee again to play at The Doghouse as part of the venues 25 band unsigned extravaganza. Going to be sweet. I'm sure we will go down like a lead balloon in front of an indie happy crowd, but I look forward to the challenge.
I look mighty forward to winter gigging. This time of year always gets me. I feel like some kind of sentimental old woman saying it, but the chill in the air, the red cheeks and fairy lights on dark nights, all that sort of early winter stuff makes me feel strangely romantic. Even the shit stuff, bus journeys home from work, half pissed and feeling sorry for yourself, it all feels slightly more magical against a nippy and dark back drop. As much as I'm sure it is a great time for gathering, I always find it's a time when being sad and lonely has its perks. You feel more justified in being miserable at this time of the year, and its easier to slip under the radar and do what you like when everyone else is getting cosy and festive. And an obvious drink problem can be disguised as "Festive Spirit".
Merry October to all.
A few weeks ago we supported The Departure in Edinburgh and Dundee. The gigs were super sweet, and the Departure were an amazing live band and all round grand human beings. The day after the Dundee gig, whilst we were still in a mild state of post-orgasmic chill, we received an e-mail asking if we would support Idlewild in Dundee. We promptly said "Awooga, a hell yeeah!". So Saturday came, we recruited one Daniel Quinn from local indie kings Dave? to help us sound-check while Markie worked hard in his hellish day job, then we hit Fat Sam's and did all the technical tomfoolery. Doors were at 7.30pm, we were to go on at 8pm, so from about 6pm we sat upstairs in the venue, quietly drinking and climbing anything that could be climbed and killing the minutes. 8pm came along, we trotted out expecting the early comers and venue staff to be standing in a mostly empty room, we were wrong. The place was darn busy, we played in front of a few hundred people and were happy as Annie!
The rest of the evening was filled with blagging VIP passes, stealing headline acts rider and playing Frisbee on a tanked up Ned street. Glory.
Next up we are off to Glasgow (I hope, once again day jobs are putting the trip under threat), then its back in Dundee again to play at The Doghouse as part of the venues 25 band unsigned extravaganza. Going to be sweet. I'm sure we will go down like a lead balloon in front of an indie happy crowd, but I look forward to the challenge.
I look mighty forward to winter gigging. This time of year always gets me. I feel like some kind of sentimental old woman saying it, but the chill in the air, the red cheeks and fairy lights on dark nights, all that sort of early winter stuff makes me feel strangely romantic. Even the shit stuff, bus journeys home from work, half pissed and feeling sorry for yourself, it all feels slightly more magical against a nippy and dark back drop. As much as I'm sure it is a great time for gathering, I always find it's a time when being sad and lonely has its perks. You feel more justified in being miserable at this time of the year, and its easier to slip under the radar and do what you like when everyone else is getting cosy and festive. And an obvious drink problem can be disguised as "Festive Spirit".
Merry October to all.
Saturday, 6 October 2007
Scratching the Surplus
Hello.
After a little delay due to mixing and our own fussiness our new demos are up on our myspace page for all to enjoy, or not enjoy.
So far the feedback we have received has been super swell, we are mega grateful for the support. And we are also very grateful to those who have helped us sell out our allocation of tickets for our gig with The Departure at The Westie this coming Wednesday. It is going to be fantastisch! To say I'm excited would be rather wide of the mark, I think I may explode in my attempts to sleep on Tuesday night.
I'm glad the songs turned out how we wanted them to, loud and a bit sexy, as up until the moment I heard them finished on Thursday I was in quite a little stormer. Reading music press never fails to get me more wound up than badger with a stubbed toe. It began on Wednesday night reading the NME. Having all these twats in shit bands hark on about how different they are really is begining to grate, if you make music that obviously rips someone of, but you do it well, then just hold your hands up, don't claim to be "re-inventing the wheel". Bollocks. Then I read some reviews by Dundee's premier music reviewer. Someone who I never really take exception to, it would be like be offended by a semi-literate child, but reading some of his latest reviews I was shocked at a serious wave of arrogance creeping into his half-arsed scribblings. This is most likely due to many of the bands on the scene taking his approval as some sort of grand badge of honour.
I then picked up a copy of a national music magazine, flicked to the Dundee section, and had a study. Once again the fella writing it has taking a terribly unattractive and snobby stance, once again putting spotlight a certain type of band (friends and family really) and disregarding everything else. This typical of the current set up around the city. You have your alternative indie types, they wont give you a second look if your prime influences ain't obscure and American and if you don't consider yourself to be "post"-somethingorother. This section probably scoff and snigger into their art portfolios at the mention of the other types of indie in the city. Though on the other hand you have the fairly tight knit group who see any experimentation as evil black magic wrong doing. The indie is indie is guitar bland selective.
I love bands from both sides of this divide, but struggle to get along with the attitude of either.
So we have set up our selves in a new category. Bands with no mates who suffer extreme disillusions of grandeur. Hail.
Har tee har.
It's not just the music media which has caused me confusion of late, watching 24 hour news and reading papers I can't help wondering if it's all just one big social experiement to see how we react when prompted to see things from a particular viewpoint. I was half expecting to see a video of some Burmese monks being shot the other day then have the news reader tell me of the great struggle of the militery and their battle against these religious terrorists. Just to fuck with us. Trouble is though, most would probably just agree. Scary stuff.
x
After a little delay due to mixing and our own fussiness our new demos are up on our myspace page for all to enjoy, or not enjoy.
So far the feedback we have received has been super swell, we are mega grateful for the support. And we are also very grateful to those who have helped us sell out our allocation of tickets for our gig with The Departure at The Westie this coming Wednesday. It is going to be fantastisch! To say I'm excited would be rather wide of the mark, I think I may explode in my attempts to sleep on Tuesday night.
I'm glad the songs turned out how we wanted them to, loud and a bit sexy, as up until the moment I heard them finished on Thursday I was in quite a little stormer. Reading music press never fails to get me more wound up than badger with a stubbed toe. It began on Wednesday night reading the NME. Having all these twats in shit bands hark on about how different they are really is begining to grate, if you make music that obviously rips someone of, but you do it well, then just hold your hands up, don't claim to be "re-inventing the wheel". Bollocks. Then I read some reviews by Dundee's premier music reviewer. Someone who I never really take exception to, it would be like be offended by a semi-literate child, but reading some of his latest reviews I was shocked at a serious wave of arrogance creeping into his half-arsed scribblings. This is most likely due to many of the bands on the scene taking his approval as some sort of grand badge of honour.
I then picked up a copy of a national music magazine, flicked to the Dundee section, and had a study. Once again the fella writing it has taking a terribly unattractive and snobby stance, once again putting spotlight a certain type of band (friends and family really) and disregarding everything else. This typical of the current set up around the city. You have your alternative indie types, they wont give you a second look if your prime influences ain't obscure and American and if you don't consider yourself to be "post"-somethingorother. This section probably scoff and snigger into their art portfolios at the mention of the other types of indie in the city. Though on the other hand you have the fairly tight knit group who see any experimentation as evil black magic wrong doing. The indie is indie is guitar bland selective.
I love bands from both sides of this divide, but struggle to get along with the attitude of either.
So we have set up our selves in a new category. Bands with no mates who suffer extreme disillusions of grandeur. Hail.
Har tee har.
It's not just the music media which has caused me confusion of late, watching 24 hour news and reading papers I can't help wondering if it's all just one big social experiement to see how we react when prompted to see things from a particular viewpoint. I was half expecting to see a video of some Burmese monks being shot the other day then have the news reader tell me of the great struggle of the militery and their battle against these religious terrorists. Just to fuck with us. Trouble is though, most would probably just agree. Scary stuff.
x
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