February - a month full of birthdays

 So, here's the first. Marnie is fifteen! I'm quite amazed, as to how the years have passed. But not only that, I'm in awe of how much has happened, in that time. It's quite comforting, to close my eyes, and sink back into a sea of memory. From West London to Epsom. From Radio, back to the band. 

I've managed to get back on the bike, for the last four days in a row. Tomorrow, it'll be five. I'm rather hoping that the weather will be dry enough for me to get outside - even if it's only on the winter bike. The trainer is fine, but nothing can compare to being on the road. For me, cycling is about momentum, about movement, about feeling as though I'm somewhere - anywhere - in a wider world. That world is still rather dank and dreary, as I watch it through the widow of this front room. Hopefully, tomorrow will be slightly brighter.

How wonderful to see this again

 I'd forgotten that it even existed! It's obviously a whole load of my old Dailybooth photos, cut together, a second at a time. 

Dailybooth was great - obviously, it presaged other photo-staging sites: without it, no Instagram, that's for sure. So, in the end, it was hugely influential. And, its influence lives on in sites like BeReal (which, similarly, I love) 

Bit of a dull start to the day

 And somewhat miserable, too.

Feeling harangued, and hectored. Doesn't really help me find the joy.

But hey ho. Ever onwards, and all that.

Indoor training setup

So, in situations like this, the remedy is always to get on the bike. Or, at the very least, get on the trainer. It's a poor substitute, but it'll have to do. That's me, somewhere in Zion National Park, in Utah. A long, long way away from a dank morning in Surrey, with the shutters closed, and the world seemingly asleep around me. I've managed to get onto the trainer both days of the weekend, and I'm really hoping I can carry on the streak: some sort of situation where I get an hour in, every single day? That would be fantastic. At least until the weather improves, anyway. Plus, of course, if I manage to get outside, at any stage - that's another two hours. I'm feeling like I need to get back to fitness. 

Lots to do today - Milo swimming, and it's Marnie's birthday tomorrow (where does the time go?) so I'll need to source the usual accoutrements - balloons, cakes, gifts. 

Time to reassess.

 I don't think it's any real secret to say that I've struggled, a lot, recently. With Dad passing away, and the first US tour falling apart - all of it started to get to me.

But then 2024 was a really wonderful year. We did so much and achieved so many goals. Literally every single gig was a triumph., Every single show packed with happy people. But that didn't come without a lot of pressure. I've said before (on this very blog) that I've felt burdened, by the weight of expectation. It's not just my outlook - it's the hopes, dreams and expectations of everyone else. that extend outwards, from the other members of the band to the crowds, everyone in the venues, and everyone in supporting roles, in our orbit. I hate letting people down, so sometimes, that fear translates into a sense of dread about the future. A paralyzing anxiety that nothing will go as people hope it will.

Trying to break that cycle isn't easy. And if you get stuck deep inside, as I did at the end of the world tour, it's challenging to come up for air. There's such a wild swing of emotions, between those happy days on the road, and the stasis which follows. 

So, heading off on the cruise was just what I needed. There was a serenity and a grace to looking out at the ocean; a real feeling of understanding my place. I wasn't expecting that, so it was doubly gratifying, to feel that peace coursing through me. It made me realise how far this journey has taken me, and it made me understand the highs, and the lows, a little bit better.

The view from the Quiet deck - port side, level 5. 

Now I'm home, I'm spending a few days processing all that I went through, and letting those lessons sink deep inside of me. It's just what I needed. 

Another wonderful day

Arriving at Cozumel, at about 6 am

Sunrise over Cozumel

Our lunch spot - Senor Iguanas

Grabbing a drink at the port

 

I'm really getting used to this life, on board. It's like a floating city, which seems fairly obvious - but there is one subtle difference that seems to be where the magic lies. In any normal city, you are surrounded by small levels of chaos: people bumping into you in the street or seeing someone who's angry or confused. Perhaps there's traffic, zooming around, and stepping off a pavement feels threatening. You normally factor all of these little deviations into your daily transit through life - but on a boat, they're not there. There's a unanimity of purpose, with everyone on a ship like this. Everyone is here to do much the same thing as you: have a great time. It's not a simple homogenous levelling of the playing field, there's still a huge range of people and outlooks - but it removes a lot of the stressors, without you even noticing. Life gets easier, more laid-back. 

And today has been a very, very laid-back day. We got here (Cozumel) overnight, and slowly approached the dock, finally mooring at around 6.30 am. The boat spins on its axis to accomplish this - which was amazing to experience. After breakfast, we nipped into the port for a look around, but then left the boat again, just before noon, to hire a Taxi, crossing the Island in its entirety. Lunch was on the East shore, at Señor Iguanas  where we ate wonderful Mexican food, drank cocktails, and laughed until our sides hurt. One of those days.

Back to the port for another drink, and back aboard, to tidy my room, and prepare for dinner. Might go and hang at the Lisa Loeb show tonight, and maybe - just maybe - try and catch up on the sleep I've missed.

Having a moment

 Oh, my word.

I've just been looking out at the world. a pitch black night, a gently roiling sea. Tiny crests of waves, buffeted by warm breezes across the Gulf Of Mexico. Above me, there's these small wispy clouds, and above them - nothing but the inky sky, forever and ever. Tiny little groups of stars, hanging in the sky.

When we first started, as a band, I can remember heading to Spain, on our first-ever foreign trip. I was always so amazed that just a piece of music could lead so many people to be checked onto a plane. To be flown to another country. just for music. Just for a song.

And now, it's thirty-five years after I thought like that. And we're still doing this. And it feels just as powerful - but there's now more resonance. Back then, it was someone else's song. Now, I'm as much responsible as anything, or anyone else. I helped put all of us on this boat. I put myself on this boat. I did all of this. And it blows my mind. 

First gig - done

First show of the Cruise

First Sunrise, from the Helipad

View from my Balcony

Well, that's the first one, done. It was perhaps the one I was most nervous about, as we were all in a strange place, due to exhaustion and Jet Lag. But in situations like these - it tends to go one of two ways: either it kind of overwhelms you, or it forces you to fight back, and the tension leads to this fantastic sense of euphoria. you end up feeling quite bulletproof. Last night's show was definitely in the latter category, but that also comes with a price to pay. You end up with an adrenalin high, which, with a 1am finish, meant that most of us slept rather badly. Just what we need.

But, I was awake in time to see the sunrise, and scooted off to the quiet deck on the port side, to grab some photos. I basically just stood there rather awestruck. It was almost contemplative - one of those times when you feel glad to be alive, and your sense of where you are zooms away from your usual close focus, to this widescreen acceptance of a broader picture. I was slightly lost for words. 

Anyway, breakfast is done, a small nap might be a good idea, and then it's a wine tasting in the afternoon. Life on board looks great, right now. 

 

TIme Zones

 Well, jet lag hit me, like a freight train.

Had a lovely dinner, and finished around 7.15. Decided to try and nap for an hour - passed out almost instantly, and got exactly one hour of deep, jet-lagged sleep. At that point, I just knew I was exhausted, and that to try for any more might be a bad idea. But - I also thought - well, maybe just another five or ten minutes.

Massive mistake. Passed out for yet another hour. This time, the jet lag sleep was even deeper, even more like a fever dream. Woke up almost exactly sixty minutes later, now feeling like I was tripping. 

On top of that, despite this laptop, and my watch telling me the correct time (we're on at 11pm), my phone had somehow transferred to another timezone and was now telling me the gig was in three minutes. As I was still in a strange, tripped-out state, It was tough trying to reconcile the fact that my watch was telling me one thing, and my phone another.

But - it is just an hour to go. Damn, that wasn't much fun. I'll now attempt to drag myself into the land of the living and do a gig. 

I'm on a boat!

The Central Atrium

 Standing on the helipad, at the bow of the ship

Well, it's been a pretty insane 24 hours, as it always is, at the start of a tour. And, using the word "tour" feels kind of odd, as we're essentially in the same place, for the next five days. Two gigs, a wine-tasting and an interview session. That's our workload. But getting here was a pretty long day. Up at 5am, then packing the case. Into a cab at 11am, from Epsom, and off to Heathrow. Then, after a really painless check-in, into the lounge to work on schedules for the release of tickets for the EMF/JJ shows in October. 

From there - onto the plane. And here's where it gets very cool: it was actually pretty empty. That just doesn't happen anymore, at all. With the advent of online ticketing, and multiple systems crawling the net to allocate tickets, most airlines can predict passenger loads, adjust schedules, and provide just the right amount of planes, with just the right amount of seats. The end result: most planes these days are packed - especially in economy. Because if there were spare seats, they'd be aggressively sold, until capacity is reached.

but somehow, this Virgin plane was lovely and empty. I've not seen wide open spaces like that, for at least 20 years.

Stretch out and sit where you want! 

But, it was a long flight - ten hours, down to Tampa - with a noticeable headwind for large parts of the journey. It's one of those flights where the engines are fighting waves of wind - they sound like they're constantly spooling up, then almost being switched off, which is somewhat disconcerting. But, it was fine. We got to Tampa around 8pm, local time, hotel by around 9.30pm. Then, to a bar called The Bricks to celebrate Alan's birthday. From there, I went back to bed, to try and pass out. Only a partial success - I was awake at about 3.30 am, but grabbed another hour or so, in fitful napping. Checkout at 9am, off to the Harbour, to check in, for the Cruise. We were ushered into a lounge, for a private function - essentially welcoming all of the "talent" (always makes me laugh) and giving us instructions for the next few days. Then, time to check the guitars on the hire pull list, visit tonight's venue, and try and powernap before soundcheck. that's in around half an hour's time. Then? Get some food, get some sleep, and we're not on until 11pm. So it's a late one. I suspect that jet lag will hit us pretty hard, at some point. Not much we can do about it, so we'll just have to make the most of things. 

Oh, and this boat hasn't even moved yet - we're still docked. If I post tomorrow, I'll try and get some shots of the open seas. Honestly, this is one of the oddest things I've ever done, but at the same time, it's quite thrilling.

I'm off tomorrow

 So you can expect postings on the blog to be somewhat interrupted, I think. I have no idea what the internet policy or cost is, on the boat - but I'm guessing it'll be quite steep.

*Sigh*

but I'll try not to let it stop me. I've become rather accustomed to this little blog, again. Wouldn't like to be seen to be neglecting it, oh no. 

Today then, is the last day before I head off across the globe, and I'm currently avoiding anything that looks like comprehensive packing an organisation. Instead, I'm blogging, and learning about Be-Bop Deluxe.

Never you change, Iain. 

Time for some sleep - then, early breakfast, pack that case. Check, check again, and recheck all of the band stuff. Jump in a cab at 11. Off to Terminal 3, we leave around 3pm. More tomorrow, If (and only if) I can drag my sorry behind into a lounge)

A little more organisation

On the software, for the next two shows.

I run NI Kontakt, and there have been a few minor issues since upgrading recently. Today, it was all about trying to merge instruments (or, .nki files) into a collection of different instruments, grouped together (basically, a set, for the band - this is known as a multi, or a .nkm)

The program wouldn't merge anything together and even kept shutting down. Turns out that the "merge when loading" option had been automatically deselected by the upgrade - I literally would never thought of checking. Anyway, one small tick in the box, and I'm all sorted. Phew!

 And, as I prepare to set sail on the seven seas (or, whatever) this photo is bringing me a lot of joy, and a small wrenching of the heart, too. That's Marnie, helping Milo with his homework. Amazing stuff, I wouldn't have believed it, had I not seen it with my own eyes.

I've been through the set and got the shopping done. I need to get a few things done before I'm away - getting clothes sorted is top of the list - and I need to book a cab.

But today, my work here is done. Time to think about the kid's tea. 

Time to draw breath

 Did some shopping, and some packing. Went into town, and bought a new mattress. Sat on the sofa sorting things out, overlooked by this dude. After a week (or so)of being utterly focused on rehearsing new songs, it was a day to exhale. 

But it's finally time to think about layering, about organising, about plotting which things I need to throw in that case. Which books will I need on the Kindle, and which audiobooks will I need on the phone? which Spotify playlists to download. I love diving down into the tiny little details of travel, the small things that make outsized differences to your comfort and your enjoyment of time away. It's time to think about those things, for a day or two.

A palpable victory.

 That's what today was. First rehearsal in over a year (!), and we smashed it. I know, a year without rehearsals seems like a long time, and - well, it is. But there's a solid reason for that. We spent most of 2024 (and the tail end of 2023) gigging, constantly. We did Japan, Australia, The US, and the UK. All in all, it worked out at 35 shows - more than at any other time since 1993. So, we knew the set, inside out, we'd lived and breathed the songs, and we'd performed them in all sorts of situations and locations. So, they'd become a part of us. We really didn't need to try and underscore that knowledge, by rehearsing. 

But, since the last show of the world tour, and downtime over Xmas, it felt like time to get back in the studio once more. So, here we are. 

And damn, it was great. After all of the hard work, and practising the songs at home, it was a relief to hear it all come together. 

outside is always the best side

 Thank goodness! Back out on the bike today. Post-storm calm, dazzling blue skies, a crisp feeling of spring in the air. The weather will take a turn for the worse, over the next few days - so it was time to enjoy it whilst I could. Up and over Headley, down Pebble Hill, through Betchworth and Leigh. Deanoak Lane and Ironsbottom, to the Fox Revived. Literally my favourite route in the world, at the moment. I even ambled up Box Hill, which I've not done in absolutely ages. 

I was also back on the winter bike- the old Trek Domane. It's been such a faithful companion - and the bike that launched me into cycling properly. I've got a lot to thank it for. But there's no denying that it makes a perfect winter bike - the comfort, the Di2, the bombproof wheels, the second-tier groupset that I don't have to worry about, too much. Possibly the only drawback is rim brakes, but I'll be honest, the roads were wet and miserable today, and rim brakes weren't an issue, at all. I think that's possibly due to the Ksyrium Exalith wheels - the braking surface is as good as it gets, for a rim brake wheelset. 

The rest of the day has been an archetypical Saturday: early run to Sainsbury's, cooking, tidying. The Archers, Oatcakes, mushrooms on toast for my lunch. A lovely day. 

Breakthrough

 Finally feels like I'm getting to grips with the old songs - and here's what it looks like, to distill all of the information about a track, into a framework that makes sense, to me

It's like a map, really; a way to navigate the song, pointing out my movements, along the way. 

I can still recall first joining the band, in October 1988. I went along to rehearse for the very first time and made just the same sort of map. A small piece of cardboard, folded in half. On it, instructions for at least six or seven songs. I think I used that bit of cardboard for at least the first couple of dozen shows. Balancing it on the left-hand side of the keyboard, I could subtly glance over, halfway through a song, and make sure I knew what was coming next. 

I'm fairly sure that I'm a better musician and performer than I was, back then, but it's faintly reassuring to realise that my internal mapping process hasn't changed at all. I still have exactly the same approach, as I did. Very comforting.

With that breakthrough out of the way, it's also allowed me to open the window into personal logistics for the Cruise, next week. Up until now, I've just been preoccupied with the songs. That was front, and centre. Now I've reached the other side, my brain has shifted slightly, and I'm starting to think about the clothes I'll need. Shall I pack some trunks? Do I need flip-flops? Have I still got any sun cream? Shall I buy more toothpaste? All of the small, everyday things that seem like a grind, but in fact - hold the magic of travel. Bring it on. Time to plot.