Friday, 22 January 2010


Oh, you could cure my blackest, blackest mood with a twitch of your little nose

Thursday, 21 January 2010

the fireworks factory is on fire


hello rush of creativity, my old friend.
I've pushed through this hideous writers block, finally. Last night on my half hour break, i ended up sitting in my car with a mix tape made for me a few years ago (i love you, you know) that is a beautiful shade of melancholy, some Silk Cut and Salinger's 'Dear Esme, with love and squalor' and it just sort of clicked.
I've spent this afternoon with Dylan, Cohen and Apple (the masters as far as I'm concerned), an old, old notebook and a trusty acoustic and a piano. I got pen marks all over my hands and my feet got numb from being sat on, but I'm just really, really happy.
Note to self: never forget that you're no one's protegee, and you don't need that stamp of approval you've been chasing after. (ps. the raspberry beret looks as good as Prince said it would) I've got a kick out of being independant, in ways I don't think I've ever been before. Things are a'changing, and it still hurts, but I have the most incredible and most inspiring friends around me, and they're pushing me forwards.

Tuesday, 19 January 2010

we're strangers, we're not friends

this city's exhausted

I miss the way things used to be

Sunday, 17 January 2010

I feel it in the deepest caves of my heart

I'm in such a creative dry spell right now.
Like, I'm so frustrated that what I originally took this year off to do has made so little progress in the past few months. I admit that so much of this is my fault, it's essentially because I am so swamped and working such insane hours at the moment because I lost so much money in the unexpected Arctic weeks. And that instead of spending days off hauled over the piano surrounded by notebooks and scraps of paper, I'm greedily clutching onto any hours I have left before he leaves.
He's getting on the train tomorrow and I'm not sure I can bare it. It sucks beyond any measure that this just doesn't seem to be getting any easier; it's heart wrenching every single fucking time. Whilst it's wonderful that after a year and a bit we still care this much, it sometimes feels a little bleak to think we've got another three and a bit to go before it'll change.
Listening to so much Minus the Bear right now, it's insane. But coupled with some Frightened Rabbit (massive animal theme apparently), Tegan&Sara, Slow Club and Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton trying to force myself out of this.
I've had a pretty wonderful week, though. Drove up to Sevenoaks after work on Wednesday (making, of course, the necessary pitstop at the twenty four hour Shell garage to get cheap versions of chipsticks and some juice for the journey) and then 'assisted' Greg to blitz biscuits, and make a curry so hot i could only eat it in tiny amounts washed down with about a litre of water and school me in the American pie films. I essentially lived at his house for the til Friday night only making trips out to pick up food and work.
Then today me and my mum hopped on a train and ended up in Vauxhall at an hour only acceptable for rock and roll to record vocals on an anti-war song soon to be put out by Tiger Music. After we'd finished, there was red wine and a walk along the South bank, in the most perfect clear day since the start of the new decade.
And tonight, it's the killer Wallander/rose wine combo, so I guess I can't complain.

Sunday, 10 January 2010


Wait, they don't love you like I love you

Sunday, 3 January 2010

And I'd like it if you made it to mind my Christmas Eve, so you can hold me and we'll watch Christmas TV

Sorry Bob Dylan, sorry Scholars, sorry Blakfish, sorry...uh Rage?
But the very best yuletide record of 2009 was unquestionably put out by Sheffield's very own Slow Club. Quixotic lyrics, beautiful but never ever overdone girl/boy vocal interplay and better hooks that David Haye.
(Plus it's approved by Penny and Le Saucy)
Along with Pulled Apart By Horses, Bell Plaines and Ellie Goulding they're my bands to watch in the opening act of the new decade. Checkitttt

Friday, 1 January 2010

After the perfect substitute for a rainy walk and the bizarrest NYE yet (no, really. We had a wedding, stargazing from the roof, people standing in ponds thinking it was gravel - how I love you Toria Keegan -, canaries in baskets and sleeping in broken glass) the 'terrible teens' have begun. I was sitting reading last years resolutions, with the resounding theme being to 'discover myself and capture God.' It made me pretty sad, I guess, above other emotions because about a month ago that goal was so close I could almost taste it on my tongue. But then I lost someone that meant the world to me, and who (I realised at her funeral) I had been banking on being a face present throughout my future. And that shook me right to the core of me, and I lost myself a little bit. Slipped all too easily back into murky bad habits I thought I'd been rid of forever and into a mindset all too natural and familiar to me.
It frustrates me that I'd made so much progress on becoming a real, honest follower of Jesus and thought that my faith ran pretty deep to have it snapped right back to the place I was on the cusp of 2007. But instead of being all trauma-y about it, my resolution this year is to become genuine.
To have a faith in God so inbedded in my heart that it's like a layer of steel under the fragile life I lead, and to really, truly know my own head and heart and developed a silent but unshakable faith there too. To rid myself of jealousy and fear of being replaced. To explore my own creativity. To really believe I'm loved and live accordingly.
I was reading some pretty inspiring stuff from some people who just seem to have the whole 'holy and distinctive' thing figured out in a way I doubt I ever will, about shunning materialism and starting revolutions and I often find myself feeling less revitalised and more overwhelmingly guilty for not being like that. But unlike so many people, to me religion should not = guilt, but freedom. So I'm starting from the beginning, no grand statements, no profound conclusions, just a fresh start. I figured going back to my favourite Psalm 139 was as good a place as ever, so watch this space.
Anyway, here are my list of other resolutions for this year
Start writing properly again, instead of being lazy and only doing it when I'm forced to
Learn to love my body
Download all the back catalogues of bands that inspire me
Grow my hair
Read through my 'American classics' reading list
Read more poetry
Stop eating utter junk and doing fack all exercise just relying on luck to keep me healthy
Weed out the people that aren't good for me
Catch up with really old and really true friends
Start watching 'Monk'
Find the balance between loving fashion and rampant consumerism
Dig out old art books
Travel
Go on more romantic, spontaneous and quirky dates
Start something that excites me and changes things
Go to art exhibitions, plays and watch live music at its best regardless of genre