I have found a new process. After being stuck with my Light Gate opera for a long time, I recently began a novelization to try and work out the story better. I had written a couple of prologues before, which I envisaged being liner notes to accompany the album but over time I began to realise that I really needed to explain why the beacons in the story are so important; and in doing so, this brought up so much about growing up as child in the 1980s during the Cold War. It enabled me to identify something specific to my own generation and at the same time multi-generational. It was all going on and we were there. In my case, I knew it was there from an early age. That's just the way my mind works. Maybe its over-sensitive. I know that I am. I don't apologise for that.
The last post I made, the first in a long time of any kind, was the first chapter of what is turning into a novel. What did totally surprise me was that I've suddenly found it easy to write music that draws directly from the novel. At the moment I pretty much have the first two chapters complete with the rest of the book worked out.
Its actually the first time that I've enjoyed writing in years. I think that it was simply a lack of confidence.
In January last year I started a process largely drawn from Julia Cameron's excellent book The Artist's Way, having dabbled with it from the autumn of 2012. I stopped writing for a long time. In fact, I stopped music pretty much totally for a year. I felt as though I had completely lost my way with it all and it was a pretty terrible void. Cameron's process involves writing stream of consciousness prose every day. I found myself writing - with occasional period of interruption - pretty much everyday. At around the same time, I rediscovered my lost fountain pens and took a lot of joy in writing with proper ink.
One thing that I came back to was my opera and that I needed to finish it. I'm trying that at the moment and this new process seems to work. Instead of random lyrics that I like to pretend tell a story thematically, I'm actually writing songs that tells a story. I think that there will be a balance of about 50/50 in the end because in rock n roll, you don't need to spell it out. It isn't a musical. It isn't primarily theatre and I really think that you need to create a structure in which you provide a prop to the imagination of your audience.
I think that you have to allow creativity to take time. It isn't a tap that you turn on and off. My life is very demanding, I have a very committed professional life - as unbohemian as that may be - and it is very difficult to strike a balance. I don't like doing something and being half arsed about it; I always want to give my all.
All of which leads me on to something quite interesting musically. I've decided to form a new band. I'll need to lose the paunch for it because this will be more like what the Light and the Change did back in the day, my old bands. That means a proper rock band with all the hearing loss (which thus far has proved to be temporary), cut fingers and housemaid's knees that that entails. I don't really see it as the natural setting for the opera but I figure that its age limited in some respects. I probably will look ridiculous trying to do windmills, scissor kicks and jumping bean ballet poses like I did ten years ago but its business. You know. Its the proper business. But I think that I'm more open to shades of tone in music now than I was. I'm probably less of an outspoken high self-minded arse hole now, I hope. Others may disagree but these days, nobody would bother telling me.
The thing is, I really am enjoying writing this novel. Its so rewarding. Its also picking up on lots of experiences that I think that others probably shared about my life up until now. There's always a twang of middle class awkwardness in my stomach when I 'fess up (as the kids say, apparently) by putting autobiographical references in stories. But I've decided just to do it. You see, in truth the Light Gate has these references, a certain setting in the real world but heads off into fantasy and I think that fantasy is based upon my experiences with post-traumatic stress disorder (que awkward twang).
And who knows, if and when it is all done, maybe I'll be better positioned as a 33 year old (I hit this age next week) with a hairline that ain't exactly superstar to make the most of it all. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a massive Who fan (que another self-aware twang about writing a rock opera...a second one at that) and when I saw Messrs Daltrey and Townshend play Quadrophenia last year - both of them knocking on the doors of their eighth decade - it made me realise that there aren't any rules about this. Not that I could ever liken myself to masters of the art like them but I figure that many years in the future, I might just have created something epic that I can be truly proud of.
You know, when I was younger I gave up so much for my music. I hurt a lot of people. People who asked me if they would one day get a chapter in my memoir. I figure that I have debt to myself and a debt to them.
And deep down, I still do truly believe. One man and his guitar can change the world.
Friday, 7 March 2014
Wednesday, 5 March 2014
The Light Gate Chapter One
Ok. After reading this I am scared:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-26442381
And this makes me bring forward the first chapter of my novelization of The Light Gate my long gestated Cold War rock opera. I am no writer of prose. I am a musician. I never intended for the following to be public consumption but sometime things change. Something changed tonight. God bless.
The Light Gate
On the counter-point
of darkness
Stand my glass gates
On foundations of
light,
That guide with a
brilliant beam
Holds the blinded
navigator
Still searching for
his sight,
And this magic light
show
Has now begun
Like a razor sharp
laser
Brighter than the
sun.
Chapter One: In Polished Destruction
He remembered them from his childhood. Standing out on the horizon from his parent’s
bedroom window as the heavy red orange summer sky hung like satin from the
heavens to the ground. Twenty or so
steel towers stretching up to the setting sun in the West. They were thin and delicately structured
forms; intertwining strings of metal precisely strung and rigidly linked
together. He thought that they were
beautiful and when dusk was settling he always thought that they were at their best. That’s when lights came on like bright ruby
beacons becoming more brilliant as the darkness came down.
When the night came and the sky was dark - Coca cola dark as
he called it – you could see them bright and clear. Like hundreds of red stars in the near
distance, he told his four year old self.
They were awake through the night and being scared of the dark he took
great comfort in this. He thought of
them as friends.
He asked his mother once about them. “They’re radio masts, dear” she explained
“those lights are there so that aeroplanes don’t fly into them at night”.
“Clever!” he thought. They were very clever.
***
The dark brown Vauxhall Cavalier pulled up outside the fish
and chip shop in Hilmorton, a small suburb of Rugby, Warwickshire. Rugby was famous for its radio masts, some of
the biggest ever built. They were first brought to life on New Year’s Day
1926. In 1927, the site grew and
provided the first transatlantic commercial telephone service connecting New
York to London; at its peak it hosted twelve 250ft aerials.
As well as scientific research and telegram messaging, it
was also used to communicate with the Royal Navy submarine fleet under the call
sign, GBR. It was where the BBC
broadcasted its electronic time code pips on Radio 4, the ticking clock at the
heart of the United Kingdom’s psyche since 1972.
It is 1985. The year
that Gorbachev became Secretary General of the Communist Party and three years
before he becomes Head of State of the Soviet Union. The Doomsday Clock is at three minutes to
midnight according to the Science and Security Board of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists , the closest the world has been to nuclear apocalypse since 1952 and
the invention of the Hydrogen Bomb. Time
has moved on since then with East and West Cold War rivals posturing for the
dominance of their competing systems with easily enough fire power to
annihilate life on the earth.
In the early 1980s the Soviet
Union began developing a Doomsday fail deadly deterrence called The Dead
Hand. Should a nuclear strike is detected by seismic,
light, radioactivity and overpressure sensors it would automatically launch its
nuclear arsenal of Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs) at their
pre-destined targets by computer control.
One accident. One incident. And the world would be ravaged by
annihilation.
Outside the fish and chip shop the little boy waited with his
mother as his father brought a bag to the car with the warm smell of batter,
cod and fried potato. The heaters were
on in the car and he felt snug in the back seat with a soft glow from the
digital display of the in car radio. Outside
rain came down and the street lights shone on the road in the early night.
The 7pm Radio 4 news started and the father turned up the
car’s radio. Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip. Beep. As car turned around to head home his parents listen intently
to the headline news and after a silence break into conversation about the
story that they’ve just heard.
“That’s us” the mother says, sounding concerned.
“W-w-hat’s us, Mummy?” asked the little boy, he was still
learning to speak and had a terrible stutter.
He didn’t like the tone in her voice.
“It’s the radio masts.
If the Russians launched an attack, we would be at Ground Zero” his
mother said matter of factly, as though she was resigned to an immovable fact.
“What’s g-g-g-round zero?”, he knew what zero was. It was a numberless number. He’d just learnt about that at school. Zero meant nothing.
“Well, it means that if there was a war, the radio masts
would be the first thing that they would try to bomb and if the Royal Navy
don’t hear the Today programme pips two days in a row or something like that,
then they attack the Russians”.
“Does that mean we would die?” the little boy was
worried. He didn’t want his parents to
die. He felt protective of them. The radio masts looked a long way away when
he watched them from his parent’s window, he wondered if he could do something
to save them.
“Yes” she replied.
“But don’t worry…we wouldn’t know a thing”.
***
Tucked up on the top of his bunk bed the little boy felt
uneasy. He was worried about the
Russians and their bombs. He felt
comfort from the landing light falling through the window above his bedroom door
but he could feel a distant terror. He
snuggled up with his favourite teddy bear and hid himself under the blankets.
He’d never really known fear like this before. It was his first taste of something that felt
really bleak. He couldn’t sleep, so
stayed awake for hours with his young mind imagining the darkness falling over
his towers. The corners of his bedroom
grew darker, so dark that he thought he could see things living in them like
they were in another world. He had
visions of the destruction hanging over his world.
***
26th April 1986.
01:23H. Chernobyl, Russia. Engineers are undertaking a systems test at
the nuclear power plant near the city of Pripyat on the border of Belarus in
the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic.
A sudden power serge causes a reactor vessel to rupture. A series of violent steam explosions damage
the structure to expose the graphite moderator to the air resulting in a fire
bursting up into the night sky spreading a plume of highly radioactive fall out
up into the earth’s atmosphere containing four hundred times more radioactive
material than in the first atom bomb dropped on Hiroshima in 1945.
27th April 1986.
The little boy’s mother ran out into the street of a small Northamptonshire
cul-de-sac. She found in one of his
favourite haunts at the end of the road playing with one of his friends.
“Darling, I need you to come inside. Its nothing to worry about” she said trying
to hide her mild panic “I just want you to come inside. There’s some kind of toxic cloud that they
talked about on the news. Something to
do with Russia.”
“Can Charlie come?” the little boy asked, gesturing toward
his best friend.
The mother said that she better check with his parents and
walked the boys to the house across the road.
Soon afterward he walked with his mother up to their family’s
semi-detached house that sat up at the top of the road. There was a dense wooded embankment running
alongside the road with a wire fence and a long strip of grass between. Charlie’s mother had thought it was best that
he stayed inside his own home.
He watched the television news in the living room with big
windows that looked out onto the road.
“Those Russians” he thought “they’re rubbish”. The television said it was an accident but
with an unshakeable impression that it was the result of inept operation and
poor maintenance. There was it seemed to
his young mind another notch on the meter of bad things that could happen. Maybe the Russians would be too busy to fight
a war and bomb him. Edward Sun slept
soundly that night.
Shortly after the extensive environmental devastation brought
on by the Chernobyl incident - that poisoned the heart of the Soviet Union with
pollution mainly affecting Belarus, Russia and the Ukraine, as well as much of
Western Europe to a lesser extent - Glasnost, or as it translates ‘publicity’
meaning transparency became the dominant movement within Soviet politics. Ultimately, it is seen as the process by
which the Soviet Union led by Mikhail Gorbachev began to re-assess its modus
operandi and led to the federation’s collapse in the late 1980s and until 1991
when the Doomsday Clock reversed back to 17 minutes to midnight.
The world breathed a sigh of relief. Nuclear war no longer seemed like an
immediate threat. In the United Kingdom,
Irish republicans bombed shopping centres and banks across in England. In Belfast, a civil war raged between
paramilitary terrorist organisations and the authorities of both sides. The bombs were different and as the little
boy grew into an awkward teenager, he didn’t worry too much about them.
***
On September 11th 2001, Edward Sun was working in
a munitions factory building parts for the Queen’s personal jet when the news
broke. Nobody paid much attention when
the newscaster’s voice crackled over the speaker. A plane had flown into a New York
skyscraper. Details were scarce at the
time and his Mind’s Eye he imagined a little single prop light aircraft.
Gradually the provincial radio DJ began to play more sedate,
melancholic music as the extent of the Al Queda attack on the Twin Towers in
New York emerged. The news then came in
that a second aircraft had followed, which began to ring alarm bells. He decided to forego the promised over time
he had booked in to get home and watch the news on television as it came
in. His co-workers sneered at him for
being so earnest as he left but he was excited by the news; it seemed like
something important was happening.
When he got home the television were pictures looked
apocalyptic, huge plumes of heavy dust laden smoke stretching up into the sky. It was surreal. He felt enthusiastic about engaging with the
drama unfolding; they’d even managed to hit the Pentagon. Even though it was happening in a land far,
far away he knew enough to know that the repercussions and went to bed that
night a little drunk and half suspecting that the United States would drop a
nuclear bomb somewhere that night.
The terrorist plan had been ingenious. Their approach to death was chillingly practical. Fly a plane into a building and kill three
thousand people. Their fatal commitment
to religion lethally more so.
A new war had
seemingly begun but it still seemed remote.
The newspapers, television commentators and politicians all seemed to
stress the great severity of what had happened.
World leaders expressed condemnation and promised vengeance but as time
marched on it started to ring a little hollow; there would be no turning point
just a slow, bloody pursuit of those responsible that would in the process
claim the lives of many innocent people until Western pride could be restored.
The same leaders conspired to use the whole affair as a
shameless opportunity to preach fear and remove the odd dictator or two for
economic gain until nobody – except the devout, insane and blindly patriotic -
quite knew which side of good and bad they lived on.
Edward Sun found himself living in a strange world. He had grown to become awkwardly gregarious
by nature, serious and intellectual.
Hugely driven but with a capacity for self-destructive idiocy; he
sneered at his peer’s sense of fun, particularly in pleasure derived from
creative pursuit other than that that he derived from his own inexplicable
global view. He thought that tortured
artists were self-indulgent but justified his own self-indulgences as a
necessary part of his creative process. His
deep introspection led him to troubling guilt over the contradictions in his
high self-minded value system.
It was a gamble.
If he delivered, it would all be worthwhile. If he didn’t
then he’d be a fraud, a failure or dead.
There was no rational line of mediation between the two. The battle lines were drawn indelibly in his
psychology. One man and his guitar can
change the world.
Friday, 5 August 2011
The BoHo Scarecrow Plays The Good Ship - August 20th
On August 20th, we're playing the Good Ship in Kilburn, supporting Who's Next who are performing the whole of Quadrophenia. We are going to have projections and I think that they are too, the stage at the Good Ship is theatrical pit with a huge blank space perfect for doing this.
I have been rehearsing with Charlie Moon Fox who is going to be on drums for me. We have been rehearsing a 45 minute set including my micro opus (ho ho), Attack Of The Chevron Action Flasher: A Mini Opera. Charlie is playing some really good stuff. You can tell when he's really on it, because he starts to do these really visual drum moves. There's undoubtably sprinkle of that Moonie genetic magic in his veins. Charlie has one of Keith's old ride cymbals. It is the loudest thing in the room. It would be great if he had full set of those cymbals, he'd be devastating.
We have been rehearsing over at Josh Townshend and James Manningly's Boston House Studio in Brentford. Its a bit out of the way for both Charlie and myself, but a good atmosphere and the location - that is to Minder, what 70s Manchester was to Life On Mars - feels appropriate.
I think that we've got a couple of smoking tunes already. I'm playing mostly electric and it feels suitably wild but still reasonably dignified.
We'll be showing some films before the gig. Haven't decided what yet. It should have some sort of relevance to Quadrophenia or Kilburn, I think.
Tickets are £11. And available from here:
http://www.musicglue.net/thebohoscarecrow/gigdetails/20-aug-11-whos-next-the-good-ship
BUY MILLIONS OF THEM KIDS!!!!!!!!
I think that this is going to be a lot of fun. I have been playing so much more music recently. Its like I've rejoined the musical fraternity.
I went to see Blushing Bones on Monday. Lovely people. I did a gig last night at the Old Crown in Highgate Hill. It was good fun. A bit of an experiment but I want to do something bigger there in the future. What about a Bohemian Scarecrow Festival? Music, film and making scarecrows.
See you in Kilburn on the 20th!
I have been rehearsing with Charlie Moon Fox who is going to be on drums for me. We have been rehearsing a 45 minute set including my micro opus (ho ho), Attack Of The Chevron Action Flasher: A Mini Opera. Charlie is playing some really good stuff. You can tell when he's really on it, because he starts to do these really visual drum moves. There's undoubtably sprinkle of that Moonie genetic magic in his veins. Charlie has one of Keith's old ride cymbals. It is the loudest thing in the room. It would be great if he had full set of those cymbals, he'd be devastating.
We have been rehearsing over at Josh Townshend and James Manningly's Boston House Studio in Brentford. Its a bit out of the way for both Charlie and myself, but a good atmosphere and the location - that is to Minder, what 70s Manchester was to Life On Mars - feels appropriate.
I think that we've got a couple of smoking tunes already. I'm playing mostly electric and it feels suitably wild but still reasonably dignified.
We'll be showing some films before the gig. Haven't decided what yet. It should have some sort of relevance to Quadrophenia or Kilburn, I think.
Tickets are £11. And available from here:
http://www.musicglue.net/thebohoscarecrow/gigdetails/20-aug-11-whos-next-the-good-ship
BUY MILLIONS OF THEM KIDS!!!!!!!!
I think that this is going to be a lot of fun. I have been playing so much more music recently. Its like I've rejoined the musical fraternity.
I went to see Blushing Bones on Monday. Lovely people. I did a gig last night at the Old Crown in Highgate Hill. It was good fun. A bit of an experiment but I want to do something bigger there in the future. What about a Bohemian Scarecrow Festival? Music, film and making scarecrows.
See you in Kilburn on the 20th!
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Unplugged Subterranean Music Night
Its been a while since I've played a show.
I spent the last six months ensconced somewhat uncomfortably numb in the bleak mid-winter. It was hugely depressing. Hurtling toward 30 at the speed of light and with little or no sunshine on the horizon. I must be a real sucker for seasonal affective disorder.
But then the magic clock ticked at 5:35pm on March 13th and I was risen. Or thirty at least. And that particular melodrama was over. What next?
I took some advice from a well meaning friend late last year after we had organised a rather successful art exhibition. "Go out and make some money, then you'll have all the time in the world for music". I questioned this a little at the time but I took there advice and spent a time pretending that I was Gordon Gekko.
This did in fact make me slightly richer. It also made me quite ruthless, depressed and very fat.
More recently I took the advice of my ex-girlfriend, who quite amazingly still seems to think that there is some value in my BoHo musical mojo. She said I should play some gigs. I agreed and decided to organise one. My whole mindset changed overnight and it felt very good. Now there are a couple of shows that I have on the books that I am promoting and playing at. In August, Who's Next are performing Quadrophenia in Kilburn and The BoHo Scarecrow is supporting and in May, the Unplugged Subterranean Music Night will rock the Constitution Cellar Bar in Camden out.
Its a great line-up. My pal Mikey Cuthbert, he of In The Attic fame (which seems like a lifetime ago now but you can see a bit of it here) will be trekking up from Southend to take a bow. Mikey is an immensely likeable guy with some great stories to tell. He fits right in with the venue and the whole unplugged theme. Plus, I haven't had a pint with him for a while.
We also have Blushing Bones, who Josh Townshend is playing with for this show. I met Josh last year when he was playing with Thunderclap Newman and I was organising The Who Convention at which he played. He's another nice bloke, who has been doing lots of exciting things recently including opening a new studio (http://www.bostonhousestudio.co.uk) and supporting the revitalised Big Country at the Shepherds Bush Empire .
Then there's this BoHo Scarecrow character. Not quite sure what to put in the set. There's part of me that wants to do this new Light Gate opera that I've been working on, or dust off Attack Of The Chevron Action Flasher mini opera for the night...or maybe just play a bunch of songs that seem to work.
What I do know is that quitting smoking has filled me full of energy and I've been out training and its been a revelation. It will be a great night. Brilliant venue down a back street in Camden Town on the canal. The Cellar Bar where the show will be opens onto the tow path and we'll be doing full classic album playbacks. You can tweet me suggestions for which ones you want to hear to @bohoscarecrow.
You can also check out the group page for the facebook group at:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=111029512316338
Hope to see you there on May 20th at the Constitution Pub in Camden. Doors open at 7pm and entry is £3. We will be partying past midnight with the albums getting more classic as the night goes on!
Hope to see you there.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
The Mercurial Mr Clark & His Magic Concert Bus
Last week, my friend - the mercurial - Sebastian Clark announced his latest project, The Concert Bus. A sustainable, mobile music venue that will be funded from crowd sourced sponsorship.
You can read about it all here and there's a great video that Seb has put together.
He lives in Seattle now. When I met him, he was here in the UK on tour and was originally from LA. His concept is pretty amazing. Experimental but well thought out.
It got me thinking too. What an amazing opportunity to do something good. Touring across the United States bringing music, a kind of rolling situationism with the destination board marked, "Even Further".
I want a slice of that particular pie and so am going to try and help Seb in some way with the project. Part of this, I hope, will be to take a trip on the bus. Where the journey will take me, I've no idea but I want to see the project happen. I want to participate. I've talked to a few friends about it and not one of them thought that I was crazy. In fact, everyone just said "do it!".
The United States is a most amazing country. If you haven't been there, then you have no idea of what the definition of a "big country" is until you've seen it. I went to Seattle about three years ago - how time flies - and it blew my mind. Islands, volcanos, mountains,sea, lakes and so much land stretching out. I enjoyed playing the gigs that I did there and had been very fortunate that there was someone at the time who believed in me enough to make them happen.
It left me with a taste for it and I want more. I want to see that country and rock it. I want to film it, to breathe it in and to come back to England as a better BoHo Scarecrow. More than anything, I want to actually DO something rather than talk about it.
I have been trying to get all sorts of projects off the ground with mixed success. I have started promoting, which in truth scares the shit out of me but I seem to be quite good at it and have been learning a lot. Each time it gets better but I want to see the big one come off. I think that I could move a long way forward with a trip on the bus with my writing, recording and just learning how to be a real musician again.
So, it could be a short trip, it could be open ended; the best stories always are. As Edward Fox once said in character of Major General Brian Horrocks "Gentlemen, this is a story you will your Grandchildren, and mightly bored they'll be!"
I have a gut instinct that this is going to fly. In fact, I think more than that it is something that will grow into all sorts of different adventures. Whatever part I play in it, even if its only a very small by writing this blog, the Concert Bus will be one of the most happening happenings ever to hit the road.
If you want to donate, please take a look at the link. Seb will send you fantastic things. He'll hate me saying it, but the man is a visionary. I just hope that he knows how to drive a bus.
What do you get if you cross Kurt Schwitters with He-Man? Sebastian.
You can read about it all here and there's a great video that Seb has put together.
He lives in Seattle now. When I met him, he was here in the UK on tour and was originally from LA. His concept is pretty amazing. Experimental but well thought out.
It got me thinking too. What an amazing opportunity to do something good. Touring across the United States bringing music, a kind of rolling situationism with the destination board marked, "Even Further".
I want a slice of that particular pie and so am going to try and help Seb in some way with the project. Part of this, I hope, will be to take a trip on the bus. Where the journey will take me, I've no idea but I want to see the project happen. I want to participate. I've talked to a few friends about it and not one of them thought that I was crazy. In fact, everyone just said "do it!".
The United States is a most amazing country. If you haven't been there, then you have no idea of what the definition of a "big country" is until you've seen it. I went to Seattle about three years ago - how time flies - and it blew my mind. Islands, volcanos, mountains,sea, lakes and so much land stretching out. I enjoyed playing the gigs that I did there and had been very fortunate that there was someone at the time who believed in me enough to make them happen.
It left me with a taste for it and I want more. I want to see that country and rock it. I want to film it, to breathe it in and to come back to England as a better BoHo Scarecrow. More than anything, I want to actually DO something rather than talk about it.
I have been trying to get all sorts of projects off the ground with mixed success. I have started promoting, which in truth scares the shit out of me but I seem to be quite good at it and have been learning a lot. Each time it gets better but I want to see the big one come off. I think that I could move a long way forward with a trip on the bus with my writing, recording and just learning how to be a real musician again.
So, it could be a short trip, it could be open ended; the best stories always are. As Edward Fox once said in character of Major General Brian Horrocks "Gentlemen, this is a story you will your Grandchildren, and mightly bored they'll be!"
I have a gut instinct that this is going to fly. In fact, I think more than that it is something that will grow into all sorts of different adventures. Whatever part I play in it, even if its only a very small by writing this blog, the Concert Bus will be one of the most happening happenings ever to hit the road.
If you want to donate, please take a look at the link. Seb will send you fantastic things. He'll hate me saying it, but the man is a visionary. I just hope that he knows how to drive a bus.
What do you get if you cross Kurt Schwitters with He-Man? Sebastian.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Cash / Trash ! Lyrics
Ladies and Gentleman, this is what is commonly known as, money....
Here's the intro from the Magic Christian which riffs all over this theme and was directed by the Goon show accolyte, Joe McGrath.
Recently, The BoHo Scarecrow appeared at an event - in cognito - called the Culture Hack Day. At this day, Leila Johnston (@finalbullet) talked about the idea of cash machines being fun. You plonk in your PIN code and BANG! Money.
Earlier today, having failed to buy any wares from the designer cheese counter in Crouch End (see facebook photo stream), I sat down and started to write about a line that entered my head last night, something about "I deserve my cash reward". It sounded like electro in my head. But then, and as these things usually do, it changed and I quickly had a clear song in my head and a set of lyrics called "Cash!/Trash!".
Below you will find two things, one a fragment contextual inspiration and the other
the set of lyrics for the aforementioned song. The Youtube trailer for the Magic Christian features my chums from Thunderclap Newman, a Pete Townshend side project from the early 70s, who had a number one hit with "Something In The Air". I am proud to say that on October 3rd last year, when they played the two day festival I organised...that in the wake of my lost voice, Andy Newman himself did offer me not one, but TWO, Fisherman's Friends. Alas, it failed to cure me and I had to settle for playing guitar with the headlining act on their encore. I played a Lennon Edition Gibson Casino worth more than my father's BMW and managed not to drop it.
BMWs? Expensive Guitars? Money. The most pleasurable experience that I've ever had with money, was getting my cash card for the first time and entering my PIN in the machine. It sounded like a touch tone phone. Like KITT from Knight Rider. Is it possible to combine Ray Kurzweil's concept of singularity with the ATM and a bit of fraud to give me access Mark Zuckerberg's billions?
That would be nice but it'll never beat loved up spooning.
Anyway, here are the lyrics. I'll pick up the guitar in a minute and put it together. Hopefully will have something on youtube quite soon. Its been a while, as I've had the most horrific writers block. Enjoy.
Cash! / Trash !
Its the only game,
that you'll ever play,
where you get to choose,
what the winner gets paid.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
If I had a penny,
for everytime I've withdrawn cash,
I could have bailed out Barings Bank,
before it crashed.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
They say "fun is in direct proportion,
to how much you earn".
But you'll stop smiling,
when your overdrafts burned.
C-C-CASH! TRASH!
Kerching, Kerching, Kerching.
C-C-CASH! TRASH!
You win! You win! You win!
He's got more money than you,
his skies are always blue,
But you don't need a PIN Code,
to make sweet love or screw.
But he's got more money than you,
he's got more money than you.
Its such an easy game,
that anyone can play,
You'll earn yourself bonus points,
if you get your Balance On Display.
CASH! TRASH!
Kerching, kerching, kerching.
CASH! TRASH!
You win! You win! You win!
At the Corner Bank,
and the High Street Arcade,
Its the Post-War answer,
to the Piggy Bank Raid.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
The BoHo Scarecrow
Here's the intro from the Magic Christian which riffs all over this theme and was directed by the Goon show accolyte, Joe McGrath.
Recently, The BoHo Scarecrow appeared at an event - in cognito - called the Culture Hack Day. At this day, Leila Johnston (@finalbullet) talked about the idea of cash machines being fun. You plonk in your PIN code and BANG! Money.
Earlier today, having failed to buy any wares from the designer cheese counter in Crouch End (see facebook photo stream), I sat down and started to write about a line that entered my head last night, something about "I deserve my cash reward". It sounded like electro in my head. But then, and as these things usually do, it changed and I quickly had a clear song in my head and a set of lyrics called "Cash!/Trash!".
Below you will find two things, one a fragment contextual inspiration and the other
the set of lyrics for the aforementioned song. The Youtube trailer for the Magic Christian features my chums from Thunderclap Newman, a Pete Townshend side project from the early 70s, who had a number one hit with "Something In The Air". I am proud to say that on October 3rd last year, when they played the two day festival I organised...that in the wake of my lost voice, Andy Newman himself did offer me not one, but TWO, Fisherman's Friends. Alas, it failed to cure me and I had to settle for playing guitar with the headlining act on their encore. I played a Lennon Edition Gibson Casino worth more than my father's BMW and managed not to drop it.
BMWs? Expensive Guitars? Money. The most pleasurable experience that I've ever had with money, was getting my cash card for the first time and entering my PIN in the machine. It sounded like a touch tone phone. Like KITT from Knight Rider. Is it possible to combine Ray Kurzweil's concept of singularity with the ATM and a bit of fraud to give me access Mark Zuckerberg's billions?
That would be nice but it'll never beat loved up spooning.
Anyway, here are the lyrics. I'll pick up the guitar in a minute and put it together. Hopefully will have something on youtube quite soon. Its been a while, as I've had the most horrific writers block. Enjoy.
Cash! / Trash !
Its the only game,
that you'll ever play,
where you get to choose,
what the winner gets paid.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
If I had a penny,
for everytime I've withdrawn cash,
I could have bailed out Barings Bank,
before it crashed.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
They say "fun is in direct proportion,
to how much you earn".
But you'll stop smiling,
when your overdrafts burned.
C-C-CASH! TRASH!
Kerching, Kerching, Kerching.
C-C-CASH! TRASH!
You win! You win! You win!
He's got more money than you,
his skies are always blue,
But you don't need a PIN Code,
to make sweet love or screw.
But he's got more money than you,
he's got more money than you.
Its such an easy game,
that anyone can play,
You'll earn yourself bonus points,
if you get your Balance On Display.
CASH! TRASH!
Kerching, kerching, kerching.
CASH! TRASH!
You win! You win! You win!
At the Corner Bank,
and the High Street Arcade,
Its the Post-War answer,
to the Piggy Bank Raid.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
CASH! TRASH!
Its just a game, just a game, just a game.
The BoHo Scarecrow
Friday, 24 September 2010
Long Live Rock
I had a long and very deep sleep earlier this afternoon. It was so good to catch up on some rest. The past few weeks has been absolutely flat out and a few days ago, I started to come down with something nasty.
All hands to the pumps at the moment. The Who Convention 2010 is taking off and hitting London next weekend. Sounds terrifyingly exciting, doesn't it! I met up earlier in the week with the Chief Executive of the Teenage Cancer Trust and Angie Jenkison who recently organised The Whodlums show up in Newcastle for the charity. They were very supportive and have taken a few headaches away from me.
I have some time to really focus on this event over the next few days without kamikaze late nights sandwiched by long days at work. This is good and will really help me stay sane.
We are well set. There will still be hiccups along the way but I think that we are going to deliver a great weekend. People are coming in from around the world for this show. Its crazy, but it says something about rock n roll and its ability to bring people together. The thing is, "convention" is such a geeky title for it. I could have sexed it up - I always loved the title they had in the states of Wholapalaza - but in the end, a convention it is and a convention it shall be.
There won't be much rest for me until a week or so.
Aside from The Who Convention, I am also helping organise London's Biggest Pop Up Art Exhibition at 210 Pentonville Road for the Cross My Art Exhibition. The Private View is this Thursday. It came about very quickly, I linked up Art & Escape Gallery, who have masterly put together this show in a very short space of time with the building, which we have got for free. I maybe could have stepped away from it there but it was too much of an opportunity not get more involved with. I decided that I wanted to learn how to do an art exhibition. I'm not very keen on his stuff but we've got Damian Hirst's work there.
You see, all of this is experimental for me. Its all lessons. All learning. I would explode if I didn't push myself out into these places. I need to know how to do it. Its very important for what comes next with The BoHo Scarecrow and The Light Gate opera.
I better go now. Much to do. Long live rock!
All hands to the pumps at the moment. The Who Convention 2010 is taking off and hitting London next weekend. Sounds terrifyingly exciting, doesn't it! I met up earlier in the week with the Chief Executive of the Teenage Cancer Trust and Angie Jenkison who recently organised The Whodlums show up in Newcastle for the charity. They were very supportive and have taken a few headaches away from me.
I have some time to really focus on this event over the next few days without kamikaze late nights sandwiched by long days at work. This is good and will really help me stay sane.
We are well set. There will still be hiccups along the way but I think that we are going to deliver a great weekend. People are coming in from around the world for this show. Its crazy, but it says something about rock n roll and its ability to bring people together. The thing is, "convention" is such a geeky title for it. I could have sexed it up - I always loved the title they had in the states of Wholapalaza - but in the end, a convention it is and a convention it shall be.
There won't be much rest for me until a week or so.
Aside from The Who Convention, I am also helping organise London's Biggest Pop Up Art Exhibition at 210 Pentonville Road for the Cross My Art Exhibition. The Private View is this Thursday. It came about very quickly, I linked up Art & Escape Gallery, who have masterly put together this show in a very short space of time with the building, which we have got for free. I maybe could have stepped away from it there but it was too much of an opportunity not get more involved with. I decided that I wanted to learn how to do an art exhibition. I'm not very keen on his stuff but we've got Damian Hirst's work there.
You see, all of this is experimental for me. Its all lessons. All learning. I would explode if I didn't push myself out into these places. I need to know how to do it. Its very important for what comes next with The BoHo Scarecrow and The Light Gate opera.
I better go now. Much to do. Long live rock!
Sunday, 12 September 2010
The Dead Tide
SITTING here, about three weeks to go until Convention day, I am in a strange mood.
A friend of mine once said to me that we are tied to the memories of the past and that over a period of time we process things. Part of this is how we diffuse past trauma through the on coming wake of life.
I must be going through something like this at the moment. I feel quite distracted. Panicked, even. I know why this is happening. Two years ago, I was in Seattle. What a huge trip that was and how terribly burned I was when I came back from it all. I was in a relationship that collapsed and all these things that I had been building my life up on for months disintegrated in a matter of days.
It really was the most traumatic of experiences. I am slap bang in the middle of the second anniversary of this fall. So, I found this time of year, last year tough and at the moment I seem to be going through a relapse.
The timing is appalling, as right now I need to working on all things Who Convention orientated. It seems to be stripping me of my confidence, just as I need to be on top form.
If I remember correctly, this time last year I performed my mini opera in London's Regent's Park to close the Treehouse Gallery.
So, I am little sketchy at the moment. I just need a little bit of Rocky style tenacity to make it through the next few weeks and the fortitude to dig a bit deeper in the discipline stakes at the moment.
Its tricky. Very tricky. I have stuck my neck out with this whole thing. It was never going to be easy but it gets harder when my head gets clouded. This seems to happen every few months. I have to question what it is that I am actually doing with my life and find out how I get to where I really want to get to. I absolutely detest mediocrity, particularly in myself.
Anyway, here goes...we are approaching the line.
A friend of mine once said to me that we are tied to the memories of the past and that over a period of time we process things. Part of this is how we diffuse past trauma through the on coming wake of life.
I must be going through something like this at the moment. I feel quite distracted. Panicked, even. I know why this is happening. Two years ago, I was in Seattle. What a huge trip that was and how terribly burned I was when I came back from it all. I was in a relationship that collapsed and all these things that I had been building my life up on for months disintegrated in a matter of days.
It really was the most traumatic of experiences. I am slap bang in the middle of the second anniversary of this fall. So, I found this time of year, last year tough and at the moment I seem to be going through a relapse.
The timing is appalling, as right now I need to working on all things Who Convention orientated. It seems to be stripping me of my confidence, just as I need to be on top form.
If I remember correctly, this time last year I performed my mini opera in London's Regent's Park to close the Treehouse Gallery.
So, I am little sketchy at the moment. I just need a little bit of Rocky style tenacity to make it through the next few weeks and the fortitude to dig a bit deeper in the discipline stakes at the moment.
Its tricky. Very tricky. I have stuck my neck out with this whole thing. It was never going to be easy but it gets harder when my head gets clouded. This seems to happen every few months. I have to question what it is that I am actually doing with my life and find out how I get to where I really want to get to. I absolutely detest mediocrity, particularly in myself.
Anyway, here goes...we are approaching the line.
Friday, 10 September 2010
Calm Before The Storm
I have about twenty days until it all happens. At the moment I am packing in as much as I can into The Who Convention 2010. Its looking really good. What a journey! This has been nine months of my life.
What is it?
A two day celebration of The Who in London with the ultimate goal of raising more than ten thousand pounds for the Teenage Cancer Trust and the Meg Fox Kids Educational Trust. Saturday is at the Good Ship in Kilburn and the main day, October 3rd is at Dingwalls in Camden.
Who will be there?
Bands include Who's Next, Who's Best, Who Are You?, The Beatbrothers, The BoHo Scarecrow (me), The Dukes Jetty, Thunderclap Newman and The Wholigans.
I spoke a couple of weeks ago with Keith Moon's mum and the Moons should be there in force. Also, Thunderclap Newman have Josh Townshend on guitar, and there will be quite a few other special guests.
Why?
The Who are The BoHo Scarecrow's favourite band. I was master of ceremonies at the legendary 2006 event. Nothing has happened since then, because all the organisers from that one have done their bit. I took this on in January. I'll tell you why.
I briefly hooked up with someone who was doing a couple of days a week for a cancer charity. At the time, I was still struggling badly with a failed relationship that was too recent. I woke up one day and thought, "fuck this...I'm going to inject some positive karma into the economy." Most of all, I wanted to do something for my friend Meg who died a couple of years ago. Aside from being a massive Who fan, she was a spectacularly positive personality, but tragically left four kids with no college fund and terrible American medical bills. If you come along to the event and have a good time, please don't thank me...thank Meg!
What next?
So, The BoHo Scarecrow. What is this? Where is it going? Why has it been distracted?
The Who Convention 2010 is a test for The BoHo Scarecrow. It is an experiment. It is hard, it has been immensely challenging but the lessons learned will pave the way for a variety of BoHo Scarecrow projects into the future.
The models are changing. The world of music and the arts has become unrecognisable. This is not an issue to BoHo Scarecrow, as it was never a part of the models that were in place beforehand. The BoHo Scarecrow has not yet even scratched the surface of experimentation.
This is not a new type of art form. This is a new form of interaction. This is the development of the experience, to facilitate accessibility, engagement and legacy of the creative experience.
The BoHo Scarecrow believes in popular/public art and the creation of a model in which a multiplicity of practitioners and audiences can co-exist. The notion of the self-existing artist is a fallacy. All artists are dependent upon audience. Otherwise the art does not exist.
The BoHo Scarecrow is interested in developing new works that cling and reach simultaneously.
After this project, The BoHo Scarecrow will complete The Light Gate: An Opera. The BoHo Scarecrow is dependent upon its audience to realise this in performance and will deliver a crowd sourcing experiment to realise these goals.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarcrow
What is it?
A two day celebration of The Who in London with the ultimate goal of raising more than ten thousand pounds for the Teenage Cancer Trust and the Meg Fox Kids Educational Trust. Saturday is at the Good Ship in Kilburn and the main day, October 3rd is at Dingwalls in Camden.
Who will be there?
Bands include Who's Next, Who's Best, Who Are You?, The Beatbrothers, The BoHo Scarecrow (me), The Dukes Jetty, Thunderclap Newman and The Wholigans.
I spoke a couple of weeks ago with Keith Moon's mum and the Moons should be there in force. Also, Thunderclap Newman have Josh Townshend on guitar, and there will be quite a few other special guests.
Why?
The Who are The BoHo Scarecrow's favourite band. I was master of ceremonies at the legendary 2006 event. Nothing has happened since then, because all the organisers from that one have done their bit. I took this on in January. I'll tell you why.
I briefly hooked up with someone who was doing a couple of days a week for a cancer charity. At the time, I was still struggling badly with a failed relationship that was too recent. I woke up one day and thought, "fuck this...I'm going to inject some positive karma into the economy." Most of all, I wanted to do something for my friend Meg who died a couple of years ago. Aside from being a massive Who fan, she was a spectacularly positive personality, but tragically left four kids with no college fund and terrible American medical bills. If you come along to the event and have a good time, please don't thank me...thank Meg!
What next?
So, The BoHo Scarecrow. What is this? Where is it going? Why has it been distracted?
The Who Convention 2010 is a test for The BoHo Scarecrow. It is an experiment. It is hard, it has been immensely challenging but the lessons learned will pave the way for a variety of BoHo Scarecrow projects into the future.
The models are changing. The world of music and the arts has become unrecognisable. This is not an issue to BoHo Scarecrow, as it was never a part of the models that were in place beforehand. The BoHo Scarecrow has not yet even scratched the surface of experimentation.
This is not a new type of art form. This is a new form of interaction. This is the development of the experience, to facilitate accessibility, engagement and legacy of the creative experience.
The BoHo Scarecrow believes in popular/public art and the creation of a model in which a multiplicity of practitioners and audiences can co-exist. The notion of the self-existing artist is a fallacy. All artists are dependent upon audience. Otherwise the art does not exist.
The BoHo Scarecrow is interested in developing new works that cling and reach simultaneously.
After this project, The BoHo Scarecrow will complete The Light Gate: An Opera. The BoHo Scarecrow is dependent upon its audience to realise this in performance and will deliver a crowd sourcing experiment to realise these goals.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarcrow
Sunday, 2 May 2010
Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky
I have just had some sad news about a friend of mine, who for the moment, we shall call 'Syd'.
Syd is dead. I remember dancing with Syd in the underground caverns of night club when I was at University. When they played Break On Through by the Doors, Syd literally did try to break on through and clawed at the white bricks in the walls. It was a magnificent moment.
Syd had the courage to speak his mind and often did. Syd was a mystery. He was my rival. He was a legend in his own particular duck pond. He was brilliant. A bright diamond. He could have been very brilliant but I don't know if he ever managed to end up delivering on it all. Syd was charismatic. Truly. Syd was my friend. He could inspire and frustrate me in equal measure.
He was one of the few people who knew my friend John, who died six years ago around this time. I've actually been trying to cut a video version of the song that I wrote for John over the last couple of days. I remember being able to speak with Syd when John died. He understood it. He really did.
So, its a sad day. I'm quite numb from it all. It hasn't sunk in. I have no idea how I feel. I am listening to Pink Floyd. It seems so appropriate, as my Syd always seemed to have a quasi spiritual link with the soul of Syd Barrett and everything associated with the idea crazy diamonds who shine too brightly then get extinguished. I question my own mortality. I see myself make leaps and bounds, wondering what is missed between each step.
Shine on, Syd, shine on...I will be remembering you.
Syd is dead. I remember dancing with Syd in the underground caverns of night club when I was at University. When they played Break On Through by the Doors, Syd literally did try to break on through and clawed at the white bricks in the walls. It was a magnificent moment.
Syd had the courage to speak his mind and often did. Syd was a mystery. He was my rival. He was a legend in his own particular duck pond. He was brilliant. A bright diamond. He could have been very brilliant but I don't know if he ever managed to end up delivering on it all. Syd was charismatic. Truly. Syd was my friend. He could inspire and frustrate me in equal measure.
He was one of the few people who knew my friend John, who died six years ago around this time. I've actually been trying to cut a video version of the song that I wrote for John over the last couple of days. I remember being able to speak with Syd when John died. He understood it. He really did.
So, its a sad day. I'm quite numb from it all. It hasn't sunk in. I have no idea how I feel. I am listening to Pink Floyd. It seems so appropriate, as my Syd always seemed to have a quasi spiritual link with the soul of Syd Barrett and everything associated with the idea crazy diamonds who shine too brightly then get extinguished. I question my own mortality. I see myself make leaps and bounds, wondering what is missed between each step.
Shine on, Syd, shine on...I will be remembering you.
Sunday, 25 April 2010
Tech-No-Notice
HAVING an absolute nightmare uploading the promised rehearsal video to YouTube. Like 2.5 million people in the UK at the moment, it doesn't work.
But in other news, I have just recorded a video demo of, "What's Your Poison?", which I am quite happy with. I wrote the music today. Nice song. Nice? Is that a word we use in rock n roll? Not a fucking clue. Its semantics.
Still a bit rough around the edges, but once I've got it together, I'll record a proper version and post it up here.
Spent yesterday having a BBQ here at home with my housemates. Lovely day. Lovely? Is that a word we use in rock n roll? Not a fucking clue. Its being pedantic.
Beautiful rain today, at 9am. Which I saw, smelt and revelled in because I stayed at home last night. I am finding spending time at home at the moment really quite enjoyable. Enjoyable? Is that a word we use in rock n roll? Not a fucking clue. Aren't I supposed to be suffering for my art? A tortured soul?
I don't care. I like it.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
But in other news, I have just recorded a video demo of, "What's Your Poison?", which I am quite happy with. I wrote the music today. Nice song. Nice? Is that a word we use in rock n roll? Not a fucking clue. Its semantics.
Still a bit rough around the edges, but once I've got it together, I'll record a proper version and post it up here.
Spent yesterday having a BBQ here at home with my housemates. Lovely day. Lovely? Is that a word we use in rock n roll? Not a fucking clue. Its being pedantic.
Beautiful rain today, at 9am. Which I saw, smelt and revelled in because I stayed at home last night. I am finding spending time at home at the moment really quite enjoyable. Enjoyable? Is that a word we use in rock n roll? Not a fucking clue. Aren't I supposed to be suffering for my art? A tortured soul?
I don't care. I like it.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Trapped In The Head - Video Rehearsal
SHORTLY before my last show in Camden, I filmed a few songs that I was rehearsing. Today, The BoHo Scarecrow presents to you a song originally written in mid-2008.
I had written the words as part of the original burst of activity some time before, I think in late 2006, when I was in the middle of moving house from Camden to Shoreditch, whilst deciding that I had to follow up my mini-opera, Attack Of The Chevron Action Flasher, with a full blown meisterwerk that was called The Light Gate, and would be the biggest and brightest thing ever to emerge from rock n roll.
Such ambition. Such desperation.
Direct Link To Trapped In The Head Rehearsal From BoHo Broadcasting House
The music though came from a very different place. When I picked up a guitar and came up with the tune, I was feeling very inspired. In the midst of the first couple of months of a new transatlantic relationship with another musician who had made me come alive again as a writer. But despite being dizzyingly in love, I was becoming increasingly isolated. I had some quite terrifying physiological symptons manifesting, bits of the body going numb and all sorts of other maladies such as frequent, intense panic attacks.
My life was spent revolving around work, music and daily phone calls. It felt really quite wonderful, and I would have recitals of this warm, beautiful american acoustic folky music by my then girlfriend and her troupe most nights of the week down the telephone whilst she rehearsed. This was a salient, dream like period of time but I was very unwell in many respects, drinking heavily and on the verge of an inevitable breakdown that finally blew up and consumed me a few months later.
For some reason, the good period though flicked a switch in me and wrote the music for this song. It has changed since, I beefed it up a bit when recording it at the splendid studios at TVU in Ealing to break it up a little and give it more punch.
What became very interesting in terms of how The Light Gate project developed was that it was only during the breakdown, that I finally was given a label for what I had suspected was wrong, which was post traumatic stress disorder.
So, who is trapped in the head? The writer? Our fictional hero, Edward Sun? A dear friend of mine, another ex in fact, pointed to the writer the other day. I can understand what she was driving at, it could be true. It isn't really for me to clarify for you. You can guess! That's what rock demands of its audience. Use your own instinct and intellect to decide, if you can ofcourse be bothered.
But in the case of The Light Gate, it is about how we internalise our pain, our fear, our terror, frustration and confusion. We let all these things go on and on, until it becomes like a prison cell with a big red flashing warning light. You are going to die! You are in danger! You better scream, scream, scream and hope that someone out there will help.
It takes a lot of courage to scream.
All sounds rather heavy, doesn't it?! Well, that's just my take. I'll leave you to make up your minds on it. Writing takes us musicians to strange places. We write things of which we are not conscious of at the time. We find things in our own music and writing, that we didn't know were there. Putting this up for you today, with above description, with this highly personalised and auto-biographical context, feels similar to one of those dreams when you are inexplicably naked in front of your peers. This is easy for me. It is second nature. I'm cool with it. Seriously.
The whole of The Light Gate, is for me, some kind of therapy. A kind of emergence. It is liberating. I have played this and other songs of a similar context many, many times in public but I love, and I mean this sincerely, love the fact that it always seems to give me some kind of connection with a bit of me that would fester otherwise. It is the most tremendous blessing.
Looking forward to posting more content here for you very soon. God bless. Take care. Keep in touch to all those who keep in touch.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
Trapped In The Head
I heard you praying,
That you were dead,
You were complaining
You’d been easily led,
begged hungry,
As their lies were fed.
Bleeding, bleed until,
Your bile is bled.
How did you get trapped in the head?
Its like a prison cell,
And the lights turned red.
Now you’re trapped,
Trapped in the head.
You walked,
Walked the line,
Pretending that
All was fine,
But wasn’t it easy,
To swallow their wine,
Whilst getting crushed
By the goosestep of time.
How did you get trapped in the head?
Its like a prison cell,
And the lights turned red.
Now you’re trapped,
Trapped in the head.
I had written the words as part of the original burst of activity some time before, I think in late 2006, when I was in the middle of moving house from Camden to Shoreditch, whilst deciding that I had to follow up my mini-opera, Attack Of The Chevron Action Flasher, with a full blown meisterwerk that was called The Light Gate, and would be the biggest and brightest thing ever to emerge from rock n roll.
Such ambition. Such desperation.
Direct Link To Trapped In The Head Rehearsal From BoHo Broadcasting House
The music though came from a very different place. When I picked up a guitar and came up with the tune, I was feeling very inspired. In the midst of the first couple of months of a new transatlantic relationship with another musician who had made me come alive again as a writer. But despite being dizzyingly in love, I was becoming increasingly isolated. I had some quite terrifying physiological symptons manifesting, bits of the body going numb and all sorts of other maladies such as frequent, intense panic attacks.
My life was spent revolving around work, music and daily phone calls. It felt really quite wonderful, and I would have recitals of this warm, beautiful american acoustic folky music by my then girlfriend and her troupe most nights of the week down the telephone whilst she rehearsed. This was a salient, dream like period of time but I was very unwell in many respects, drinking heavily and on the verge of an inevitable breakdown that finally blew up and consumed me a few months later.
For some reason, the good period though flicked a switch in me and wrote the music for this song. It has changed since, I beefed it up a bit when recording it at the splendid studios at TVU in Ealing to break it up a little and give it more punch.
What became very interesting in terms of how The Light Gate project developed was that it was only during the breakdown, that I finally was given a label for what I had suspected was wrong, which was post traumatic stress disorder.
So, who is trapped in the head? The writer? Our fictional hero, Edward Sun? A dear friend of mine, another ex in fact, pointed to the writer the other day. I can understand what she was driving at, it could be true. It isn't really for me to clarify for you. You can guess! That's what rock demands of its audience. Use your own instinct and intellect to decide, if you can ofcourse be bothered.
But in the case of The Light Gate, it is about how we internalise our pain, our fear, our terror, frustration and confusion. We let all these things go on and on, until it becomes like a prison cell with a big red flashing warning light. You are going to die! You are in danger! You better scream, scream, scream and hope that someone out there will help.
It takes a lot of courage to scream.
All sounds rather heavy, doesn't it?! Well, that's just my take. I'll leave you to make up your minds on it. Writing takes us musicians to strange places. We write things of which we are not conscious of at the time. We find things in our own music and writing, that we didn't know were there. Putting this up for you today, with above description, with this highly personalised and auto-biographical context, feels similar to one of those dreams when you are inexplicably naked in front of your peers. This is easy for me. It is second nature. I'm cool with it. Seriously.
The whole of The Light Gate, is for me, some kind of therapy. A kind of emergence. It is liberating. I have played this and other songs of a similar context many, many times in public but I love, and I mean this sincerely, love the fact that it always seems to give me some kind of connection with a bit of me that would fester otherwise. It is the most tremendous blessing.
Looking forward to posting more content here for you very soon. God bless. Take care. Keep in touch to all those who keep in touch.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
Trapped In The Head
I heard you praying,
That you were dead,
You were complaining
You’d been easily led,
begged hungry,
As their lies were fed.
Bleeding, bleed until,
Your bile is bled.
How did you get trapped in the head?
Its like a prison cell,
And the lights turned red.
Now you’re trapped,
Trapped in the head.
You walked,
Walked the line,
Pretending that
All was fine,
But wasn’t it easy,
To swallow their wine,
Whilst getting crushed
By the goosestep of time.
How did you get trapped in the head?
Its like a prison cell,
And the lights turned red.
Now you’re trapped,
Trapped in the head.
Sunday, 18 April 2010
Apres Moi, Les Deluge (After Me, The Storm)
YOU will find embedded in this post two videos of a new song, written recently, with words from lyrics written in late 2008.
In the Light Gate opera, this song is about one man splitting into two halves. It is the moment when, Edward Sun divides and his alter ego, Edison is born. For me as a writer, it is about someone who I loved, love, beyond comprehension. Its beautiful. Tragic. Reassuring and terrifying simultaneously.
And when I wrote the words, I was in deep stuck. I was literally dreaming of tomb stones covered in moss. I think that it was the first bout of serious depression that I had ever truly experienced. I thought that I was going to die.
BUT lets fast forward to today. I am fired up like never before at the moment. In the last couple of weeks I have been working hard to resurrect myself from the end of the above and its working. I was going to post more of the last show in Camden here, but I really feel quite uncomfortable about how far down Pie Alley I had gone and so will post just one of the songs here for you.
So you have today, In The Eyes Of The Storm. A rehearsal and a live version. I hope that you enjoy them. I am really tremendous form at the moment. I am going great guns on so many fronts. Managed to finish in the top half of the field on the Finsbury Park 5km run on yesterday, I play tennis a couple of times a week, football too and running most days.
Direct Link - In The Eyes Of The Storm Rehearsal
Direct Link - In The Eyes Of The Storm, Live In Camden
My confidence is back. Its tremendous. The dates and venues for The Who Convention are about to be announced and we are hoping that it will be at Dingwalls.
The music used to introduce the rehearsal video was one of my Lifehouse Method portraits from Pete Townshend's interactive music project, that uses harmonic composition based upon the golden mean to generate musical portraits of individual sitters. I was one of the twenty Beta testers, who first tried out this software, and I think that from memory this was the first Portrait that I generated. I woke this morning with this playing through my head, again and again and again. Its rather beautiful.
After me, the storm. There is a new benign storm brewing from behind my eyes at the moment.
Did you know that we can fly?
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
In the Light Gate opera, this song is about one man splitting into two halves. It is the moment when, Edward Sun divides and his alter ego, Edison is born. For me as a writer, it is about someone who I loved, love, beyond comprehension. Its beautiful. Tragic. Reassuring and terrifying simultaneously.
And when I wrote the words, I was in deep stuck. I was literally dreaming of tomb stones covered in moss. I think that it was the first bout of serious depression that I had ever truly experienced. I thought that I was going to die.
BUT lets fast forward to today. I am fired up like never before at the moment. In the last couple of weeks I have been working hard to resurrect myself from the end of the above and its working. I was going to post more of the last show in Camden here, but I really feel quite uncomfortable about how far down Pie Alley I had gone and so will post just one of the songs here for you.
So you have today, In The Eyes Of The Storm. A rehearsal and a live version. I hope that you enjoy them. I am really tremendous form at the moment. I am going great guns on so many fronts. Managed to finish in the top half of the field on the Finsbury Park 5km run on yesterday, I play tennis a couple of times a week, football too and running most days.
Direct Link - In The Eyes Of The Storm Rehearsal
Direct Link - In The Eyes Of The Storm, Live In Camden
My confidence is back. Its tremendous. The dates and venues for The Who Convention are about to be announced and we are hoping that it will be at Dingwalls.
The music used to introduce the rehearsal video was one of my Lifehouse Method portraits from Pete Townshend's interactive music project, that uses harmonic composition based upon the golden mean to generate musical portraits of individual sitters. I was one of the twenty Beta testers, who first tried out this software, and I think that from memory this was the first Portrait that I generated. I woke this morning with this playing through my head, again and again and again. Its rather beautiful.
After me, the storm. There is a new benign storm brewing from behind my eyes at the moment.
Did you know that we can fly?
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
The Uneven Keel
We got shafted tonight by London Transport. This city can be impossible sometimes. Wears you down in the day and shafts you at night.
So, no Powers Bar show for me. I've disappointed the promoter, which I don't like one bit.
I'm sitting here in my room. Red light on, with a lava lamp cascading green blue light across the room. I have a guitar on my knee. I fear sometimes where things will go. Such big stakes out there. And for some reason, as I waited for the non-existent rail replacement bus from Crouch Hill, my mind was elsewhere. Surrounded by memories.
How did we get to this place?! Keep on pushing. Don't give in. That sense that deep down in your bones you are right. For every knock they give you, give them twice as much back! Get back up on that stage as soon as possible. Whatever it is. Whether its boardroom, a bedroom or a small bar stage.
I need more time. I think that I need to let myself get well again. I need a drummer and I need some bass. I need a walk in the countryside without a hip flask. I need to stop smoking. I need to stop dealing in fakes. I need to deliver. I need to score.
I had my confidence stripped in the last three months 2009. I have had a tremendous resurgence in the last couple of months. Some really great stuff is happening. Nights like tonight are moments when I look back down from where I am and get a bit of vertigo.
See you on April 7th in Camden Town.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
So, no Powers Bar show for me. I've disappointed the promoter, which I don't like one bit.
I'm sitting here in my room. Red light on, with a lava lamp cascading green blue light across the room. I have a guitar on my knee. I fear sometimes where things will go. Such big stakes out there. And for some reason, as I waited for the non-existent rail replacement bus from Crouch Hill, my mind was elsewhere. Surrounded by memories.
How did we get to this place?! Keep on pushing. Don't give in. That sense that deep down in your bones you are right. For every knock they give you, give them twice as much back! Get back up on that stage as soon as possible. Whatever it is. Whether its boardroom, a bedroom or a small bar stage.
I need more time. I think that I need to let myself get well again. I need a drummer and I need some bass. I need a walk in the countryside without a hip flask. I need to stop smoking. I need to stop dealing in fakes. I need to deliver. I need to score.
I had my confidence stripped in the last three months 2009. I have had a tremendous resurgence in the last couple of months. Some really great stuff is happening. Nights like tonight are moments when I look back down from where I am and get a bit of vertigo.
See you on April 7th in Camden Town.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Will You Have Some Tea At The Theatre With Me?
THE last few weeks have been hugely busy and tremendously successful. The first BoHo Scarecrow Tea Party is going ahead this Saturday and tomorrow I return to Powers Bar in Kilburn to play a show. Last time around, I had a great gig there. So much has happened since then, I am a different man.
The contract came through for playing the Camden Head today on April 7th, so I am booked up.
I have also set up BoHo Scarecrow Media a film production and social networking project, that delivers hyperlocal video content filmed in full HD to location based services. We have also now produced two films and there are several projects in the works.
One of these involves The Who and is tied into the 2010 Who Convention, which I have started organising having been Master of Ceremonies at the 2006 event, which had appearances from Roger Daltrey, Simon Townshend, Bruce Foxton, Irish Jack Lyons and unforgettably – Keith Moon's mum. We raised £7,000 at the last event for the Teenage Cancer Trust. I want this year's event to raise £17,000 for the TCT and also the trust set up for Meg Fox's family to cope with the terrible medical bills that they were left with.
Its got me absolutely flat on the floor at the moment, but its paying off. We are aiming for the last weekend in September, with two events running simultaneously next door in Kilburn on the Friday (at the Good Ship and the Luminaire), featuring the ultimate, most authentic Mod club possible. The main event on the Saturday will be at a major venue in London with some rather famous names on the bill.
Having searched my soul and originally deciding not to play it, I had a lot of people asking me to and have decided in true Townshendian ambitious style to debut The Light Gate: An Opera there with a full band and film projections.
Organising this event has also introduced me to a number of Who associates, including Doug Sandom, who was the band's original drummer. Doug bought me a few brandies last Friday in Ruislip, and I put an idea to him about filming an interview. He was up for it, and I am now working on doing a whole series of interviews to put them together for a film to sell on DVD at the Convention. It will also feature myself in the pub with Keith Moon. Trust me on this, wait and see.
I am hoping that we might get a film from Pete Townshend too, to include. It will be BoHo Scarecrow Media's most exciting and ambitious project to date. Entirely feasible. Will hopefully raise some good money for charity and I will have a blast making it.
I'm particularly proud that in the day job this month I have closed three deals, which is the best start to a year that I've ever had. It is surreal to live this double life but increasingly, I am feeling rewarded. A great love of mine had this amazing ability to get on and do things. To refuse pontification. A remarkable woman, she managed to book seven dates for my first US tour for me as an unknown. Like all inspiration, you have to grab it when it comes and that's what I am doing. I have turned away from the headfucks, I have my head down and pushing like hell.
So, hugely busy. Excited like hell. Aware that I have to keep on going, that I will persevere and as my friend Meg Fox used to tell me I would one day do, make something great.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
P.S. As part of my bouncing back from multiple heartbreak oblivion, I have developed the ultimate chat up line. Amazingly, this has had a 5 out of 7 success rate. I demonstrated it to a random that I met last night down my local, in front of her husband and with his permission, I might add (the MoJo was not loaded). She gave it mixed reviews. Turned out that it was Lisa Stansfield. Had no idea. Nice lady. They have lovely dogs.
The contract came through for playing the Camden Head today on April 7th, so I am booked up.
I have also set up BoHo Scarecrow Media a film production and social networking project, that delivers hyperlocal video content filmed in full HD to location based services. We have also now produced two films and there are several projects in the works.
One of these involves The Who and is tied into the 2010 Who Convention, which I have started organising having been Master of Ceremonies at the 2006 event, which had appearances from Roger Daltrey, Simon Townshend, Bruce Foxton, Irish Jack Lyons and unforgettably – Keith Moon's mum. We raised £7,000 at the last event for the Teenage Cancer Trust. I want this year's event to raise £17,000 for the TCT and also the trust set up for Meg Fox's family to cope with the terrible medical bills that they were left with.
Its got me absolutely flat on the floor at the moment, but its paying off. We are aiming for the last weekend in September, with two events running simultaneously next door in Kilburn on the Friday (at the Good Ship and the Luminaire), featuring the ultimate, most authentic Mod club possible. The main event on the Saturday will be at a major venue in London with some rather famous names on the bill.
Having searched my soul and originally deciding not to play it, I had a lot of people asking me to and have decided in true Townshendian ambitious style to debut The Light Gate: An Opera there with a full band and film projections.
Organising this event has also introduced me to a number of Who associates, including Doug Sandom, who was the band's original drummer. Doug bought me a few brandies last Friday in Ruislip, and I put an idea to him about filming an interview. He was up for it, and I am now working on doing a whole series of interviews to put them together for a film to sell on DVD at the Convention. It will also feature myself in the pub with Keith Moon. Trust me on this, wait and see.
I am hoping that we might get a film from Pete Townshend too, to include. It will be BoHo Scarecrow Media's most exciting and ambitious project to date. Entirely feasible. Will hopefully raise some good money for charity and I will have a blast making it.
I'm particularly proud that in the day job this month I have closed three deals, which is the best start to a year that I've ever had. It is surreal to live this double life but increasingly, I am feeling rewarded. A great love of mine had this amazing ability to get on and do things. To refuse pontification. A remarkable woman, she managed to book seven dates for my first US tour for me as an unknown. Like all inspiration, you have to grab it when it comes and that's what I am doing. I have turned away from the headfucks, I have my head down and pushing like hell.
So, hugely busy. Excited like hell. Aware that I have to keep on going, that I will persevere and as my friend Meg Fox used to tell me I would one day do, make something great.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
P.S. As part of my bouncing back from multiple heartbreak oblivion, I have developed the ultimate chat up line. Amazingly, this has had a 5 out of 7 success rate. I demonstrated it to a random that I met last night down my local, in front of her husband and with his permission, I might add (the MoJo was not loaded). She gave it mixed reviews. Turned out that it was Lisa Stansfield. Had no idea. Nice lady. They have lovely dogs.
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
What's Your Poison? (Scratch Lyrics)
I started writing this on my mobile a couple of days ago. Yes, even BoHo Scarecrows have mobile phones, mine doesn't even have a cable to plug into BT!
These are just scratch lyrics. Early starting point. Its about addiction and self-obsession. There's a bit of these in all of us, I figure. I deliberately chose to take an insular line on the profile of each protagonist.
I'm not going to write anything more now. I'm too tired. I need to sleep. I've been writing quite a bit, including a short story about honesty as the defence of the dishonest. Its made me dig quite deep. Graves. Bah!
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
What's Your Poison?
She works at home in the death of the night,
driven by the fear of her fading light,
there's no threat of delay,
or husband to fight,
Praying she can tick a box,
Or find a plot,
that'll make everything right.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
He sits by the side,
of the public bar rail,
washing away his pain,
with London Pride Ale,
He'd retrace his steps,
to when he first so gingerly crept,
but he's too drunk to find the trail.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
They could be hiding together,
on the municipal park bench,
savoring the lost seconds,
of other lives they'd spent,
And on another day,
these moments,
they could've passed away,
but in themselves they're addicted,
And instead they're separately entrenched.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
She sits and talks to Mary Jane,
safe and hidden from the north western rain,
Laying down the tracks,
oblivious to the oncoming trains,
Dreaming of lost loves,
and the brief touch of fame,
until they are both one, both the same.
What's your poison?
Whether its in the heart,
or in your head,
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
Got to find a way to restart,
or soon you'll be dead.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
Whether its in the heart,
or in your head,
What's your poison?
These are just scratch lyrics. Early starting point. Its about addiction and self-obsession. There's a bit of these in all of us, I figure. I deliberately chose to take an insular line on the profile of each protagonist.
I'm not going to write anything more now. I'm too tired. I need to sleep. I've been writing quite a bit, including a short story about honesty as the defence of the dishonest. Its made me dig quite deep. Graves. Bah!
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
What's Your Poison?
She works at home in the death of the night,
driven by the fear of her fading light,
there's no threat of delay,
or husband to fight,
Praying she can tick a box,
Or find a plot,
that'll make everything right.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
He sits by the side,
of the public bar rail,
washing away his pain,
with London Pride Ale,
He'd retrace his steps,
to when he first so gingerly crept,
but he's too drunk to find the trail.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
They could be hiding together,
on the municipal park bench,
savoring the lost seconds,
of other lives they'd spent,
And on another day,
these moments,
they could've passed away,
but in themselves they're addicted,
And instead they're separately entrenched.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
She sits and talks to Mary Jane,
safe and hidden from the north western rain,
Laying down the tracks,
oblivious to the oncoming trains,
Dreaming of lost loves,
and the brief touch of fame,
until they are both one, both the same.
What's your poison?
Whether its in the heart,
or in your head,
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
Got to find a way to restart,
or soon you'll be dead.
What's your poison?
What's your poison?
Whether its in the heart,
or in your head,
What's your poison?
Thursday, 11 February 2010
The Only Ones Who Can Really Hurt Us (Are The Ones We Truly Love)
I've been writing. I've been busy. Shortly after the last post I went to ground for a while. Then came something of a moment of inspiration and now I'm in the middle of a maelstrom of meetings and emails about a fundraiser for the end of 2010.
In the meantime, I've started working on some new tunes. I played one of them, "In The Eyes Of The Storm" to close my gig at Phibbers earlier this week. It was tremendous. I sung it for the first time at the soundcheck. Literally. Then closed the set with it, and my God, it all came flooding back. Love runs deep.
Something prompted me on Sunday to think about how the ones that we truly love are the only ones who can really hurt us. So, I had a hook. Then something else triggered the rest of the words this evening. And now we have a song, here are the lyrics:
The only ones who can hurt us (Are the ones we truly love)
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
or whether you can ask,
“did I try enough?”,
We lose friends and lovers,
like reeds swept away in the flood,
because in a single word,
they leave us in mud.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
Because they stand by us,
when push comes to shove,
then fall from our grasp,
to comeback wearing gloves.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
We tear down walls
to let them into our hearts,
only to find their editing pen,
has deleted our part.
But it doesn't matter
if they turn us to stone,
they remain even once,
they have flown.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
Some crave beauty,
wealth and fame,
But I'll keep their love,
and its ice and pain.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
You can't hurt me no more,
no one can hurt me no more,
won't let you hurt me no more,
no one's gonna hurt me no more.
The only ones who can hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
The only ones who can hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
In the meantime, I've started working on some new tunes. I played one of them, "In The Eyes Of The Storm" to close my gig at Phibbers earlier this week. It was tremendous. I sung it for the first time at the soundcheck. Literally. Then closed the set with it, and my God, it all came flooding back. Love runs deep.
Something prompted me on Sunday to think about how the ones that we truly love are the only ones who can really hurt us. So, I had a hook. Then something else triggered the rest of the words this evening. And now we have a song, here are the lyrics:
The only ones who can hurt us (Are the ones we truly love)
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
or whether you can ask,
“did I try enough?”,
We lose friends and lovers,
like reeds swept away in the flood,
because in a single word,
they leave us in mud.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
Because they stand by us,
when push comes to shove,
then fall from our grasp,
to comeback wearing gloves.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
We tear down walls
to let them into our hearts,
only to find their editing pen,
has deleted our part.
But it doesn't matter
if they turn us to stone,
they remain even once,
they have flown.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
Some crave beauty,
wealth and fame,
But I'll keep their love,
and its ice and pain.
It isn't about money, guns or blood,
The only ones who can really hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
You can't hurt me no more,
no one can hurt me no more,
won't let you hurt me no more,
no one's gonna hurt me no more.
The only ones who can hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
The only ones who can hurt us,
are the ones we truly love.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
Escapades In Brixton With The BoHo Scarecrow
THE BOHO SCARECROW now has a splendid new movie camera capable of shooting in Full HD.
I headed down to the indoor market today at Brixton Village for the Spacemakers event to film the day. Everything was very new in terms of familiarity with the equipment but the progression in the DV technology is remarkable. Even mid-range cameras have a huge amount of cleverly minaturised technology packed into their neatly designed bodies.
I enjoy filming immensely. This type of job isn't the kind that you can plan in too much detail for because things change quickly and all you really need are one or two random subjects to crop up to get on camera, and you're streets ahead straight off.
For those of you interested, I will be editing through next week and should have the first of the three scheduled versions put together by the end of next weekend.
On the tube ride home I had a moment to think about what comes next. Its been years since I finished my film degree at Canterbury. I simply haven't had the technology at my disposal since then, because I've spent the money on recording studios, guitars, amplifiers and capos.*
I am already thinking about bigger projects. Particularly my own music projects. We have converged in the digital space, musicians and film makers, that is. I can do both, and its a little like a bomb going off with all these projects that I've wanted to do for years suddenly being tangible.
Its quite simple. Ken Russell. Here is a man who has had budgets ranging from a few coppers to the biggest of all time (circa 1974.). All the man ever needed was a camera and the rest comes together. Ofcourse, people either love or hate Ken, but Michael Powell did the same. Film is balance between content and apparatus. Content is generated within the constraints of one's budget, but the budgetary constraint actually can be a blessing. You just need to be more inventive.
As for sound, you should ALWAYS overdub dialogue in narrative film. If you can't afford a boom or even a simpler arrangement, then you can go for overdubs or non-diagetic sounds. I am a fan of non-diagetic sound. Film is not reality, it is a projection. Quite literally, ofcourse.
So, film is where I am taking The BoHo Scarecrow project. It was always part of the DNA of how things would develop. Still early days and the learning curve is steep, but expect some boho brilliance in the near future.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow.
*Capos cost about a tenner a go, and I seem to lose them immediately. As I like using capos and play a lot of gigs I have lost a lot of them, often immediately and rarely without finding them afterward hence they have probably cost me more than the cost of a small bungalow in the Outer Hebridies that would be the perfect home for my parents.
I headed down to the indoor market today at Brixton Village for the Spacemakers event to film the day. Everything was very new in terms of familiarity with the equipment but the progression in the DV technology is remarkable. Even mid-range cameras have a huge amount of cleverly minaturised technology packed into their neatly designed bodies.
I enjoy filming immensely. This type of job isn't the kind that you can plan in too much detail for because things change quickly and all you really need are one or two random subjects to crop up to get on camera, and you're streets ahead straight off.
For those of you interested, I will be editing through next week and should have the first of the three scheduled versions put together by the end of next weekend.
On the tube ride home I had a moment to think about what comes next. Its been years since I finished my film degree at Canterbury. I simply haven't had the technology at my disposal since then, because I've spent the money on recording studios, guitars, amplifiers and capos.*
I am already thinking about bigger projects. Particularly my own music projects. We have converged in the digital space, musicians and film makers, that is. I can do both, and its a little like a bomb going off with all these projects that I've wanted to do for years suddenly being tangible.
Its quite simple. Ken Russell. Here is a man who has had budgets ranging from a few coppers to the biggest of all time (circa 1974.). All the man ever needed was a camera and the rest comes together. Ofcourse, people either love or hate Ken, but Michael Powell did the same. Film is balance between content and apparatus. Content is generated within the constraints of one's budget, but the budgetary constraint actually can be a blessing. You just need to be more inventive.
As for sound, you should ALWAYS overdub dialogue in narrative film. If you can't afford a boom or even a simpler arrangement, then you can go for overdubs or non-diagetic sounds. I am a fan of non-diagetic sound. Film is not reality, it is a projection. Quite literally, ofcourse.
So, film is where I am taking The BoHo Scarecrow project. It was always part of the DNA of how things would develop. Still early days and the learning curve is steep, but expect some boho brilliance in the near future.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow.
*Capos cost about a tenner a go, and I seem to lose them immediately. As I like using capos and play a lot of gigs I have lost a lot of them, often immediately and rarely without finding them afterward hence they have probably cost me more than the cost of a small bungalow in the Outer Hebridies that would be the perfect home for my parents.
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Our Future In Celluloid
WE are working on a film project that has been toyed with for a while, but its only now with a little horse trading that it seems as though we can move forward.
That's right Boys and Girls! The BoHo Scarecrow movie is now go. Said horse trading has been done with business partner over at Kruger One, and I am heading into the movie business. Its going to be a bit like Filth & The Fury meets Magical Mystery Tour.
Film, if not my first wife, was my bedfellow for some yours. I studied it at University, particularly British non-realism and West coast avant-garde. Beyond that, I continued my odyssey on time and process based image projections, with my thesis on Gustav Metzger. I met Metzger and Boyle Family too.
This project has two distinct goals:
1) Produce an engaging promotional film for The BoHo Scarecrow project.
2) Generate video content for live performance projection.
And what of the New Year?
I'm rather keen to go into detox for a few months and have a holiday from drinking. I also want to stop smoking. My body needs the rest, and my pocket needs the money. Not least because I'd like to head out to L.A in the Summer and go on tour.
What a decade its been! My life is unrecognizable. Much better prepared for the new decade. A new epoch, for me I think. This is supposed to be the decade when I finally make a lot of money. In ten years time, I am supposed to be rich enough to start funding other people's vanity projects.
Regardless, Happy New Year.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
That's right Boys and Girls! The BoHo Scarecrow movie is now go. Said horse trading has been done with business partner over at Kruger One, and I am heading into the movie business. Its going to be a bit like Filth & The Fury meets Magical Mystery Tour.
Film, if not my first wife, was my bedfellow for some yours. I studied it at University, particularly British non-realism and West coast avant-garde. Beyond that, I continued my odyssey on time and process based image projections, with my thesis on Gustav Metzger. I met Metzger and Boyle Family too.
This project has two distinct goals:
1) Produce an engaging promotional film for The BoHo Scarecrow project.
2) Generate video content for live performance projection.
And what of the New Year?
I'm rather keen to go into detox for a few months and have a holiday from drinking. I also want to stop smoking. My body needs the rest, and my pocket needs the money. Not least because I'd like to head out to L.A in the Summer and go on tour.
What a decade its been! My life is unrecognizable. Much better prepared for the new decade. A new epoch, for me I think. This is supposed to be the decade when I finally make a lot of money. In ten years time, I am supposed to be rich enough to start funding other people's vanity projects.
Regardless, Happy New Year.
Your friend,
The BoHo Scarecrow
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
The Christmas Tide
SO, we've nearly made it through another year. A new decade is just around the corner.
Despite my misgivings, last Sunday's show turned out to be a bit of a cracker. I was joined on stage by Fiddler Dan, who I jammed with at the Underwriter a couple of months back. He trecked all the way up from Croydon to play the gig. Had never heard the songs or rehearsed them. Halfway through the set we were backed by a drummer I found on the night called Jake. Jake turned out to be a bit of a pro.
My voice was shot for most of the gig. It was a show that I really didn't want to play. I felt empty inside beforehand. The cancellation at Monto really hit me hard, and emotionally the last few months have been a bit of a roller coaster.
But it came together as a whole. It was one of the most fun gigs that I've had for a while. The energy was tremendous particularly when Jake joined us. I have edited a couple of the songs together for you. Hope that you enjoy them.
Someone described the video as "magnificent", someone else said that it was "glorious", but most of all, my dear friend Tiff said that it was Buffets style, no rehearsal and all heart. I think that this is what rock n roll is always about. Its the spirit of what I want to do.
I like this type of chaos. When my old band The Light split after a few shows, I think that it had got too tight. The old magnificent madness of musicians getting together and simply rocking out, wasn't there. What BoHo Scarecrow offers is that kind of innocence, it isn't naivity, but the scope to take risks. The risks is where the adrenalin and the energy comes from.
Hope that you enjoy it. It all happens at 1 minute 59 seconds, btw.
The BoHo Scarecrow
Direct Link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8oB5ARO9Wk
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