So this is what we missed!

We're a mid-table band, middle-aged, mid-life, middle of the road, call it what you will, this isn't our only career, it isn't our primary focus, and it can't be, we're juggling 10 kids between us with half a dozen mortgages and there is no money in mid-scale music. 

The point I am trying to make is, this is our hobby, this is our release, our creativity, our holiday; so when all that was taken away from us last year we were all a bit restless, a bit pent up and stir-crazy, we were longing for those far away heady days when we would lug our gear across the country and try to fit on a stage no bigger than a shower tray, when we would drive 100's of miles to festivals just for that hit of 'exposure' and maybe a case of warm Carlsberg thrown in to boot. It wasn't the glamour my friends, it was the camaraderie of life in a band, that's why we did it, and that's what we all missed so much.

So this year when restrictions were finally lifted we were as eager as ever to jump back on the 'band wagon' and get back on the road man! And despite adding a couple more babies to the odd folk creche, we were all well rested and ready for action. Or so we thought.

The first few gigs back were ropey, at best. The lineup had taken a seismic shift when the piano player failed to turn up in the summer. We were a little light so we quickly drafted in The Deputy for the season and he kinda re-imagined our sound. It's a little like when the accordion player stood in for the guitar player and then ended up replacing him. I'm not saying that's happening now, but something is certainly bubbling away. By early summer we'd been up to Wales to begin work on our long awaited third album. By the mid summer we were purring. But by the end of the august we were absolutely exhausted. 12 gigs in and we were ready for another lockdown. 

The workload certainly takes it toll. And I know we've written about it before, but what goes on behind the scenes is enormous, and after a year out it's even heavier! Cause you guys only see 20% of the band; us turning up, tuning up and prancing around on stage, with maybe a drink at the bar ;) 80% of band life is behind the scenes; all the jokes, the traveling, trying to Tetris all your gear in the back of the van, all the arrangements, the arguments, disagreements, the triumphs and disasters, all the song-writing, and back stabbing, and admin, and chasing payments, the hustle, the promo, the planning, the logistics and then losing your van keys. That's the real magic folks, that's the grit and drama of life in a band. And we'd missed that part too. 

And the festivals, how much have we all missed them? Carrying all our gear across the site in search of the perfect spot to camp, the merging of so many sound systems carried on the breeze, crowd cheers and laugher and snippets of conversation, the distant music while you sleep, the random chat that wakes you in the middle of the night, or filters into your dreams, that first scratch of a hangover in the morning, the hopelessness, the search for breakfast, the extra cost of stuff, that festival tax, the first sip of cool cider around the midday mark, the ache of your back and the throb of your feet, your head under a tap to wash away the fug, it's all worth it, and the feeling at the end is only happiness, that you shared something with other people, in a sort of stolen time, a little bubble that feels like forever but is over in a flash. 

It's funny taking a year off, pining away for the good old days, for the resumption of normal service, cause when it arrives you're like: "So this is what we've missed!" Maybe a year out makes you rusty, or maybe we were so eager to get back to gigging that we booked 12 in 8 weekends which is something we would never do in the old days, especially as we're expecting a baby in the middle of it all. It's all very how NOT to be in a band! So at least we're still en point! And there we were thinking the loss of the piano player would somehow tighten us up and bring an end to the mistakes that have plagued us. But no, it seems firmly ingrained in our psyche; already this summer we ran up a bar tab higher than our wage, drove into a lamppost and then lost the only van key. It's hard making up for lost time and trying to pick up speed, and it's bloody tiring. Guess it's lucky we're a mid-table band hey, I don't think we could do this full time.

But it has been worth it, seeing all you lovely people again, listening and dancing and sharing our songs and stories, it's what makes this such a special hobby and one we will chase to the end of the rainbow.

So there you have it, the end of our summer season is fast upon us folks. We have our final gig this weekend and then we can sit back and reflect, burrow deep into our day jobs and our families. But don't worry, we'll be back next season with a brand new album and hopefully a return to Europe too. 

Losing the guitar player was hard, losing the piano player harder still, but it's all part of the cycle, the show goes on and the music changes and evolves but the intent remains. We're in a good place; 10 years in. Same again? I'd say :)

The Big Heist

It might be helpful to think of bands as families. Sometimes it definitely isn’t, but sometimes it is. For the purpose of the next few paragraphs it might be. With some families it’s pretty clear who’s in the family and who isn’t. You’re linked through blood or marriage. In these families maybe there’s a Gary who has been in a relationship with your Aunt Linda for 25 years but they never married so your mom would say he’s not really IN your family. Maybe you have an Aunt Abby who isn’t biologically related to you, has never been in a relationship with anyone but shows up for holidays and is the first person anyone calls when they need a dresser moved or have an extra ticket to see the Bee Gees tribute act. But is she IN the family? After decades OUT Pierre finally got IN, when laws changed and he could marry great uncle Bertrand.

 

Most bands that have been around for a length of time have accumulated a multitude of former drummers, van lenders, tour bookers, t-shirt designers, sofas to sleep on, providers… and I think that they are all in the family in a very real sense even if they are not technically in the band.

I’m not IN the band, except for when I am. It’s a fine distinction, and maybe in many ways a meaningless one. It's the deputy here by the way, in case you're confused and thinking the singer is getting all mysterious! When the bass player couldn’t do a European Tour a few years back I filled in for him. When the accordion player couldn’t do some dates last year I filled in for him. Now the piano player is in Portugal and I’ve been filling in for him this summer. 

 

Last night I was watching the film Paddington with my partner and my daughter. My daughter is young and is going through a stage of being frightened by films. Not specific films or specific things that might happen in films, maybe it started that way but now it’s graduated to being the idea of films in general. TV programmes are totally fine. Before some of you get too carried away with coming up with theories as to why this may be the case and solutions mined from your years of parenting - don’t worry, it’s all under control, though I do appreciate your concern.  

 

Anyways, we’re watching the film and it’s all going very well and I get a text message. 'Emergency. The band is in trouble. There’s a blog entry that needs to be written.' (It’s actually this blog entry that you’re reading at this moment, though I didn’t know it at the time for obvious reasons). It needed to be done by the end of the weekend. This weekend. Which gave me about 24 hours. The singer was at a festival and unable to write it because he was being festive. I don’t know what the other band members were up to in case you were wondering.

 

The Paddington back-story is included for the purpose of removing any veneer of glamour from the proceedings. We don’t operate from undisclosed rock star locations. I know you know that already, but it seems of some importance. After all you would think of things differently if the paragraph read:

 

I’m in the studio coaxing atmospheric sounds from 1970s synthesizers and I get a text message. Emergency. The band is in trouble. There’s a blog entry that needs to be written.

 

or

 

I was riding my Harley Davidson down the coastline, I stopped for a moment to admire the sunset and I get a text message. Emergency. The band is in trouble. There’s a blog entry that needs to be written.

 

A band can be like being in a family, but also a business, a sports team, a monogamous relationship, an extra-marital relationship, an abusive relationship, a biker gang, a church group, an addicts recovery group, a pottery class, a book club and plenty of other things. Sometimes when you’re really lucky it feels a bit like being part of a rag tag group of petty thieves planning a big heist. The Big Heist. The one that will set you up for life sipping umbrella drinks living on a tropical island. The one where no one gets hurt, where everyone gets to wear goofy disguises and the gutsy detective with domestic difficulties will never find that tiny clue and put the pieces together.

The Odd Folk are working a big heist and I’m in on it!

And what’s the heist? Well it’s not actually stealing something in this case. It’s making something, something potentially immortal; an Album. But at the very real risk of extending this metaphor too far and compromising it’s structural integrity - maybe it really is about stealing something, creating a perfect moment in time and capturing it before it gets away.

Bands have two separate identities; the real time one and the recorded one. When we perform live that’s happening in real time, the audience is experiencing and directly influencing and being a part of something that will only happen once and then when it’s over it lives on in individual memories that change over time and become unique to each person. Well, that’s probably a bit of wishful thinking, most of us probably don’t remember much of anything about most of the gigs we’ve been to.

The recorded identity can be revisited countless times by countless people and exists outside of the passage of time. We might change our opinion of the music, get sick of it and grow to like parts of it we didn’t before. Maybe the guitar effects sound really out of date now, but the recording itself doesn’t change.

 

Some bands are considered great live bands that never managed to quite capture the magic on studio recordings and some bands have meticulously (or through sheer luck) managed to capture something timeless on a recording that can never be replicated or equalled in performance. Some bands try to make every detail of a live shows sound as much like the album as possible, others want to capture as much of the raw energy and spontaneity of a live show as they can on the recording. Some bands just need something to sell at gigs so the can cover fuel costs. 

 

Every band has a part of them hoping that they might be able to make the rarest of the rare; the Great Album. Lots of bands have a few great songs, most bands have had magic nights where the crowd was amazing and everything fell into place, but the great album? Now that’s the big prize. The one where you start it from the beginning and you don’t want to skip any of the songs. The one that seems to be alive and timeless at the same time and connects the whole big family surrounding every band.

 

Yeah, it’s not like the old days. A good portion of people don’t have CD players anymore, stream all of their music online, and would never consider listening to an album from beginning to end. Vinyl records have made a comeback for a certain population, but the idea of recorded music being something you can hold in your hands is for many an old fashioned idea. Does that really matter though?

The planning is under way, meetings are being held in secret rock star locations and texts are being sent during family film nights. There are demo recordings being mixed and evaluated, recipes are being tweaked, microphone positioning is being discussed, melodies stumbled upon during late nights in Belgium are finding their way in, memories of times gone by and things yet to come, familiar sounds and some surprising ones.

Watch this space for more updates.

 

The heist is in the works, and you’re all invited.