The noise in my head

 Has been there for most of my life. It's me, and I've come to terms with it and learned to live with it, to ignore it, to block it out, and occasionally, to let it out. Most notably, it tends to emerge when I'm on stage. I've been lucky enough to have almost four decades, where I can stand on a stage, and regulate my emotions and my internal dialogue. It's a safety valve, I suppose, and I'm very thankful to have the privilege to be able to control what's inside.

sometime back in the 1980's, I also realised that it's the sort of force which can be harnessed to music: that's obvious, for something which I do onstage - but it's also apparent in my off-stage life too. I can put something like this, on - and be instantly aware that I'm channelling, and martialling my fears and anxieties.

And the Husker Du link has grown, over the years, to the point where listening to their records feels like being on stage, for me. And conversely, when I'm onstage, that's always the sort of thing which plays on my internal jukebox.

I'm off on the cruise in exactly a week, and I'll be sure to have the entire discography ready, and to hand at all times.

Not the world's greatest musician

 Really, I'm not.

And today, that's all come into focus, as I've been attempting to work out the parts for some of the old songs we're putting back into the set. The main problem for me is that I do almost everything on feel - on instinct. I rely on muscle memory and have to almost forget where I am, and what I'm doing before I can truly play properly. 

It's never held me back before, and I always manage to get there in the end - but it's a frustrating and tiring slog, to get through it all. 

Just been looking at ticket sales for the Bedford show, in March (come and see us!) and then also plotting what we'll be doing, later in the year. It's been. busy few days, but I do feel somewhat energised, which is a profound relief. The whole of Xmas and New Year was one long stressful journey into anxiety. I'm glad to see the back of that.

Tonight, there's still a lot to do - dinner for everyone (and Marnie is off doing Swimming Training, so the schedule is a bit fragmented) and maybe listening to the Archers, If I get the time.

Despite Strummer doing his best to disrupt me

 It's actually been a day of real progress. I do think that part of that has been working at my desk. Normally, I just sort of... trundle around the house, laptop in tow, like a digital nomad, confined to barracks. but, I won't lie to you, it felt good to be moored to a proper surface. I've made videos, mailed contacts, sorted things out, and been on calls. I've done some updates for the socials, and  I've got a to-do list that's now completely, well, done. 

I'm rather pleased with myself, as you can probably tell. So I'm off downstairs to listen to the rest of that Nada Surf album and make a curry for the kids.

Faking a policy on deepfakes.

 Here's a story from the BBC, about how Facebook intended to crack down on celebrity ad scams. You'll know the sort of thing if you've spent any time on social media recently - oh, here's Joe Rogan, or Elon Musk, filmed in what looks like a podcast interview, talking about how they can make fortunes playing some sort of hokey app, or whatever. It's an AI voice-changing scam.

Well, I saw the same ads you did, knew it was all BS, and just thought I'd ignore it, as I was able to discern right, from wrong. But after a few weeks, I then thought - well, why the hell not? And decided to report some of them. It's not the sort of thing I normally do, because - who's got time for that, eh?

But - let's try. 

I reported half a dozen instances. Same ad, the one with Joe Rogan, and Elon Musk. Very recognisable fake, 100% a scam. Reported it as a scam. "Celebrity impersonation". ticked all the boxes, as far as Facebook's complaint procedure goes. So far, so good. I sit back and wait. And today, I got half a dozen messages back from Facebook. They didn't remove the ads. 

If something so blatant, so egregious won't even pass their censors, you have to ask yourself, if this is not a simple case of their automated scam protection systems failing - is it something more egregious? Because, to me, it looks like they know what's happening, and they'll make a show of pretending as if they care, but they don't. they don't give a shit about you, or me, or anything. 

I'm starting to think that we're facing the death spiral of social media. Despite its huge influence (and initially, its massive potential), this wave of misinformation, distortion, lies and bullshit just can't continue. We need to return to a sense of our own independence, online. Our own domains, our own blogs, our own voices. We need to regain our personal digital sovereignty, and we need to do it before SM can wreak any more havoc. 

Actually

 Let's have a proper little life update, as opposed to me wallowing in my mild depression, shall we? I did manage to do a lot of rehearsing today, which was great. some of the new/old songs are quite complex, in their arrangement, as regards samples - plus, there's no muscle memory, as yet.

Muscle memory is perhaps the most important thing, with regard to what I do, when I'm on stage. I can let go, I can forget about almost everything else, and let the world drift over me and through me, But first, I need to have those songs almost fall out of my fingers, without a second thought. That doesn't just take time, it takes the ability to close the gap between the firing of the synapses. You have to be able to think about not thinking, to watch your muscles twitch and contract, as they dance across the keys. That's what I need to tap into, and it'll take a little more time.

Today has also been notable for the beginning of a new, regular Breakfast routine (something that regular readers of this blog will have come to recognise, is a crucial component of my day)

For the longest time, it was Soba noodles, then overnight oats. Now, I've gone even more simplistic. I've now taken to Oatcakes. four of them, with a quick smear of Marmite on each. Savoury, filling, quick and easy. 

Today

 I do what's in front of me now. that seems like. a plan, doesn't it?

Yes, I realise I'm being moderately facetious, here - but this has echoed down through a cold, miserable Monday, and made my life better.

Right now, I need this. I need something. 

Raving and misbehaving.

 Well, that's what it used to be like. But now, it's just raving. Probably just as well. 

This was today's Big Fish Little Fish - me and Dylan, at the Dorking Halls. such an amazing gig - literally one of the best we've ever done, and we've been playing together for a decade! there was just something about the vibe today - I'm not entirely sure what it was. The first half hour contained a portion where I performed some of the best mixes it's ever been my pleasure to put together. like I said - just amazing.

Apart from that, it's been a cold, dank sort of a day. A January day that makes me long for April. Right now, that month feels like a long, long way in the distance.

Ah, the 1980's.

 I've been thinking about that decade, today.

Don't get me wrong, I love the 80s as much as the next person, but it does feel like people misunderstand all of the undercurrents of that long, weird decade. It's - well, all the usual suspects: Cocaine, glitz, vapid vacuity, greed and conspicuous consumption. It's jackets with huge shoulder pads - and that's the one that always sticks out (sic) for me: it's an abnormal silhouette of a decade. 

But amongst all of the things we accept, and probably take for granted, I've spent the ensuing years marvelling at what was just under the surface. A sense that the world was fraying, spinning slightly off its axis. I know that I've referenced Philip Glass's "Koyaanisquatsi", and that's particularly apposite - "life out of balance", and the 80s really feel as though that internal gyroscope begins to teeter and sway.

One of the albums that has accompanied me, as 2025 gets underway is "Graceland" - how's that for a sign of the times, then? - and the frustrations and confusions contained in "The Boy In The Bubble" feel like they still call out, even as the days have turned into forty years. Sonically, the song has aged, but lyrically, it's right on point, for the crazy times we live in, now.

Rehearsing

 And it's meant I need a new keyboard. the old one (visible in the back of this photo) was really on its last legs. I'm trying to recall how long I've had it - was it ten years? Or maybe even longer. I know I was using the newer "main" stage keyboard seven years ago, so it's a long way back from that. 

Anyway - let's assume the old one has done fifteen years. And I've replaced it, like-for-like, with another keyboard, to act as my backup, or spare. The good news: it's so cheap, to do this. A replacement is about £40, which seems like an absolute bargain.

Also, apologies for the room being in a state, I'll tidy it soon, I promise.

Thank goodness.

 Managed to get back out on my bike, yesterday. For the first time in what felt like forever. A quick pootle over Headley, then dropping down Pebble Hill, to the lanes around Leigh, Norwood Hill and Brockham. If If I'm honest, this is absolutely my favourite part of the county, to ride: so quiet, wonderful views, great roads. 

And here's a quick image, to show you that I'm not kidding about the views. Just a lovely view down the valley which falls away from Punchbowl Lane, to the south of Pixham. In the distance you can see the North Downs - Box Hill, where I would be cycling to. I love viewpoints like this, where the sky seems to weigh down on me, where the fields roll away, and the county stretches out so gracefully. I'm lucky to be where I am, to be able to do what I do. Views like this always make me grateful, for everything. 

One more thing

 I do feel as though I should share this information - I've been listening to The Archers, recently. I love it. Doesn't just remind me of my youth - it reminds me of my time in the countryside, too. Win-win. But it feels a little strange committing time to a soap opera, that really hasn't happened for decades, in my life. 

I am currently trying to devise a strategy where I can still listen to it, even if I can't get reliable internet on the boat (each episode is only about 30meg - they can almost be emailed!

A day of drift

 But, tantalisingly, it does feel as though the weather will be good enough, tomorrow, to head out on the bike. At long last! It does feel as though this winter has gone on forever - both in a temporal sense, as well as a psychological one. 

I'm the rat, emerging from the maze. Or something.

So today felt like things were going to happen. But not quite yet. 

Walked around Ashtead again, this time up and around Shepherd's Walk (via Gray's Lane), and back along Rookery Hill,  past the City Of London's Freemen's School. Lovely old building - and, Joe Strummer's alma mater, which never fails to make my spirit soar. I've also been busy with logistics and management stuff today: couple of potential festival nibbles, in the US, and offers for UK shows too. All of that and I'll be on a Cruise Ship in two weeks! I'll never stop being grateful for the band, and the opportunities it brings. 

More Walking

 And another amazing day - so cold, but so clear. I strolled up part of Stane Street - the Ermyn Way, through Ashtead, and towards Cherkley Court. Pretty amazing to think that this part of Stane Street would have been in use almost a couple of thousand years ago. 

Came across the remains of this burned out car - I'm fairly sure it's an Astra GTI, a hot hatch, that's been nicked, and then set on fire. I don't think it was burned here, but it appears to have been moved. I'm also fascinated as to how the little scrotes who took it managed to get it up to Stane Street in the first place - this is just a track, and there aren't any points of access, for vehicles, at all. I'm going to hazard a guess and say they drove it via the car park at Green Lane, and then over open fields. that would have killed the suspension, and possibly the engine too. After that, it was only ever going to end one way: in flames, sadly. 

Shoes

 

A beautifully clear and crisp day. A morning walk, in the mist and sunshine, with the frost under my feet. So periodically, I looked down at my feet, crunching over icy ground, only to have my spirits lifted by the sight of my Doc Martens. I've got a pair of cherry red "Made In England" ten-hole boots, just a wonderful pair of shoes to walk around in, as you'd expect. but the reason I still have a pair is less to do with the efficacy of the shoes, and more about the heady rush of nostalgia that surrounds DM's. 

At my school, literally, everyone wore them. I'd guess that around 75% of the boys had DMs. Cherry Red was a particular favourite - normally polished with black boot polish, so that, eventually, they'd end up the colour of a livid bruise. Proper 1970's hooligan style. I think I had a black pair, but what I do remember, is being obsessed with the look and the style of them, plus the way that a simple pair of boots afforded you entry to a wider group of your peers. Wear a pair, and belong. 

I'll always recall seeing the outline of the boots, as I walked to and from school, the curve of the toe-piece, the geometric lines along the sides of the sole. The network of creases that formed, as they aged. 

I can look down now, and I'm transported. It's a wonderful feeling. 

How I wish the weather would improve.

 Right now, there's only one thing I need to do - and it's get outside, on this. For my sanity, my mental health, my actual health.

I suspect I'll actually be out on the winter bike, or possibly the do-it-all Tarmac SL6 (it's disc brake, so a bit more friendly for those muddy, wet Surrey lanes) but this is the real joy of my life, when it comes to bikes. It's the absolute pinnacle of Rim Brake technology, and was built from the frame up, to be just that.

It's a 2023 Giant TCR Advanced SL0 frameset (the very last of their flagship rim brake frames) with full Dura-Ace 9100 (mechanical, natch), Roval CLX 50 wheels, Turbo Cotton 28mm tyres, and Fizik Cyrano R0 bars. It's got a Giant Carbon stem, plus a weight-weenie Selle San Marco Mantra saddle. Without pedals, it's a shade under 6.2kg, which is just insane. The damn thing actively wants to hammer up those hills, whether you want to, or not.