We’ve written some new songs, we’ve raided our back catalogue for suitable items for refurbishment, and most importantly we’ve invited some eye candy along for the ride on vocals and made sure that our first gig is at her birthday party. It’s not an original trick – in fact it’s exactly the same principle that we used for our first live performance around this time last year, but as the old saw says – if it ain’t broke, it’s clearly never been owned by a drummer**
I fondly recall the first time Mr Wendell and I sat in a room discussing our possible future musical direction - me hunched over a record player trying to decide which Peter Gabriel track would be most likely to entice him into a lifetime of collaborative musical experiments and him sat in an armchair, trying to keep his dinner down. To this day he’s still never heard the other three and a half sides of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, and I know that for a fact. In contrast, when we got together last week, rather than try to drop the stylus down on the right song on the album and grab an acoustic guitar in order to be able to start playing along before the track kicked in I processed an electric guitar sound through some modelling software on an iPad and read the lyrics to a cover version we were thinking of doing off his phone. How times have changed. What a long strange trip it’s been. Whatever happened to the west?
And so, just before we return to the electric arena with the full band, we will take a moment to expose ourselves willingly to the lingering scrutiny afforded by the two acoustic set up, brave the slingbats and arrows*** of outrageous fortune and grasp the opportunity to perform minor key reflections on our own mortality and morality. Or, as we say in the mournful singer-songwriter world, Carpe Dm.