I think I should post this.

 Though my father was a huge Jazz buff, and that music defined and shaped his entire life, there are other things that I associate with him, too.

Dylan, Simon &Garfunkel, Pentangle, Steeleye Span, Dan Fogelberg. But above all (and rather oddly) Gladys Knight & The Pips. I know there's another post in the archives about GK&TP (a tale from a US tour, IIRC), but this one is just...Dad, really. We both watched this performance in May 1976, and he taped it, too, on his SOny TC-377 Reel-to-Reel tape recorder. This faster, funkier mix (performed and recorded especially for TOTP) was unquestionably his favourite and mine too. As a ten-year-old kid, I loved it; as a nearly sixty-year-old man, I love it even more. Every note is sheer, joyous perfection. 

Well, this terrible year got a lot worse.

 My father passed away on August the 25th. I held his hand as he took his last breath. It's been a year of frustration, pain and anguish: but nothing has come close to this. I keep thinking he's just gone on some sort of temporary journey and will be back. He won't. I think it'll hit me later.

It has focused my mind on so many things - an almost constant churn of ideas, memories and emotions. I suppose I'll be processing this gradually. 

RIP, Dad. 

Having a moment

 Whilst listening to Stars Of The Lid. Bloody hell, it doesn't get much better than that, does it? 

Lots of cycling over the weekend, with a ride that saw myself and Phil (ex-JJ road crew) tooling around the Surrey Hills. There was a glorious moment where we got passed by an over-enthusiastic young bloke, only to sail past him on the third ramp up Coldharbour. Pacing is everything, in cycling as in life.

I've also spent the weekend thinking about my next steps. I need more focus, and I need to be tighter, generally. I've not quite worked out how that's going to happen (quelle surprise), but I'll press on, regardless. That's my default setting.

A month drifts by.

 And, I'll be honest: I needed that.

I'll get back to everything, but I had to withdraw, a little. TO regroup and breathe. I was completely unprepared for how much the saga with the tour hollowed me out. It was a voyage into myself, into the heart of what makes me tick. And, of course, you find out some good things, but plenty of bad stuff too. That's life.

I've enjoyed getting back out on the bike, pointing it along the road, and just...going. No real thought for a destination. No real plan. 

Life On the Road

 A lot of people always want to know what it's like? 

Well, it's dull. Lots of gazing out of the window of a van. But, having said that, there's a lot to be said for that sort of drift: the glorious knowledge that you don't have much to do, except wend your way to the next town on the list. One of the things that can help is something to while away the hours. On the last couple of tours, myself, Jerry and Gen have spent some quality time listening to the Madness audiobook "Before we was we". I really can't recommend it enough - it's just perfect. Funny, moving, nostalgic - but more than that, it's a window into the life of a band. All of the myriad ways that a group of people come together, interacting with each other. The bonds that are created, the threads that join everyone together. All bands go on a journey, but it's not just about a path from obscurity to fame; it's the making of a family. That resonates so much for all of us. It was a hugely entertaining experience - and I'm already plotting to listen to it again when we're back in that van.

It also made me dive deeper into Madness' back catalogue: there's some truly wondrous stuff in there, if you did deep enough. And when I say deep, I mean it. My favourite Madness track is this overlooked gem, just an album track from the record that almost marked their career's final phase. But - what an absolute gem.

A recommendation

 We've not had one of those for a while, have we? Anyway - Hands On Bike is a wonderful cycling blog, it's going straight into my links. 

Internal Jukebox

 The jukebox is now playing....

Rachmaninov. I'm such a fanboy - that intricate yet romantically direct style is just perfect for me. His music has complexity, but the purity of intention allows it to move you without your brain constantly having to analyse the content. 

Of all the varying musical genres, classical has suffered the most, I think, from algorithmic laziness. You can ask your smart devices to churn out monolithic music blocks specifically tailored to dinner parties. Or doing homework or sleeping. The resulting sounds are there, merely to wash over you. Rachmaninov has that language of romanticism, which fights so hard against all of that. There's a simple power to his work, a piercing intent. 

I'll try and listen to him, to add context to my own life - and isn't that what music is about, always?

Old, old, school.

 I ventured back into the archives of this blog yesterday. Just wanted to get a sense of what still exists in the long cavalcade of descriptions, links, and more.

Well, a lot of it certainly now suffered from "link rot". So much pop culture detritus, so much merely fallen by the wayside. It's odd, looking back on those sorts of posts; sometimes there will just be something like "Oh wow, THIS is just fantastic!" and a signpost to nothing. I wonder where my head was, what I was searching for, and what made me smile.

But sometimes, it's still there. I'm incredibly heartened to find that this is still active. Ah, the internet. 

Well, it's certainly been a ride

 Hasn't it?

Remind me to not do this for a while. I plan on riding my bike when this is over, to forget about the responsibility and the pressure. All the time I'm heading up those hills, this will be playing on a loop in my mind.

I love being obsessed with things that everyone else seems to have overlooked. A few hundred views, in three years? What the hell is that all about, then?

I was going to tell you about all the other things going in in my life, but they're all under a cloud, for the moment. There are a few other music business things, and some long-term planning, too.

I'd like to think about the future. But I need to deal with the present, first.

Trying to find solace

 And it isn't easy. 

I've been lucky enough to be back outside on the bike, so that's helped. Overall, the past week or so has been fraught with many issues, but above all it's been a case of one issue just creating another. Logistics is like an ever-evolving fractal: it just keeps sub-dividing and expanding. 

One issue makes two more. Then those two make four. Sometimes the biggest test is not solving the eventual issues, but trying to maintain a thread back to wherever it was that started everything.  The album above, has certainly helped put my head into a better space, while the storm rages around me. 

 Meanwhile, It's the Coronation weekend, so I'm hoping for memories to be imprinted. I'm certainly no royalist, but I'm acutely aware of the fabric of our society, how it shifts, and the things which ground our values. Extraordinary days like this are a chance to see history unfurl - you don't have to like that history, or agree with it, or cleave to it in any way; but it's something that shapes your life. I may not be a participant, but I'm certainly a watcher. 

When all of the mania dies down

I'd like to do one thing, and one thing only. I'd give almost anything to be able to cycle up this road just after sunrise. To reach the Lighthouse and look back at the sinking ribbon of Tarmac. To see where I'd been, to know where I was going to go next. Cycling's like life, isn't it?

But seriously, must look at trying to get back. I can't describe the pure joy I felt, heading up that road. Doing it again would square a circle - but it would also quiet the storm. That's very tempting, right now.

Back to reality

 And back to the organisation, planning and plotting. Who knew that tours would be this draining - before they'd even started?

My soundtrack for today has been this:

Originally heard on Peel's show in 1981, I'm fairly sure I had to rely on Small Wonder to find a copy. It's an odd single in that it was reworked by Martin Hannett at one point - so that version should be the one which held my attention. Yet, it didn't. This original mix is far superior - Hannett's is too vague, too lacking in direction. A very rare misstep, that's for sure.

Today is all about rest, too. Managed to drop part of the oven on my foot, bruising it quite badly. Mind you, if you're going to knacker yourself before a tour, it's eminently sensible to get all of that out of the way before the fighting actually begins. 

This hit me like a ton of bricks

 It was such a huge moment for me - reading that. I just have to stand up, stand by my choices, and keep on standing there. Back it all up with my drive, passion and integrity. 

It's all too easy to be assailed by doubts when you're organising so many logistical things. But, if I listened to those doubts, I'd be in serious trouble. I'd get onto that stage, thinking, "Well, if only we'd played that other venue that someone on Twitter mentioned instead of this place. Maybe we'd have got a few more dozen people in the crowd". All it does is distract from the main goal - get out there and make everything work. Show everyone there how good you can be. In that place, at that time. Because you committed to the choice, to the venue, to the piece of merch, to the song, to the job, to the career, to the band, to the life you lead. 

I'm back, tentatively.

That was a brutal weekend. It took a while to dig myself out of that hole - and I still feel hollowed out and useless. Life's tough sometimes; it's not easy, it kicks you when you're down, and you don't feel like getting back into it again. But I have to start working. There are so many things at the moment which demand my full attention - there's a tour, a label deal, a publishing contract, voiceover work, and charity work. Ugh, even writing it all down is enough to throw me back down into the hole again.

But overall, I have to regain momentum. The key to that is the same thing it's always been. Self-belief. Once that takes hold, confidence rushes back in. Then, forward momentum is a given.

Turn it up. Make it work. 

 

Utterly empty.

I crashed hard. Today all of my lifeforce left, like the tide. I was just left behind, wondering where my soul, my energy and my drive had gone. I've put a lot into this week - there have been meetings, and endless phone calls. Logistics, schedules, organisation. I've been left with the burden of responsibility on my shoulders, and today those shoulders buckled. It was all I could do to stay upright and awake. I just wanted to sleep for days and days on end. 

I've felt like this before - when there's been a catastrophic failure of my abilities. To be frank, it's not great. Everything runs in slow motion; everything winds down. I'm hoping it passes soon. 

"Up to my knees now, do I wade, do I dive?
The sea has seen my like before, though it's my first and perhaps last time
Let's call me a baptist, call this a drowning of the past
She is there on the shoreline throwing stones at my back"
 

Time for me to start swimming.