Music:
Member Since: 28/03/2007
Band Members: I am going to replace some songs here with more instrumental kind a stuff and maybe a video, yes how exciting is that!!! However in order for these aural delights to become a reality I need to get rid of a couple of the songs on here. This my lucky and few fans is where you come in. To be precise, where your ears come in. Let me know in no uncertain terms which you think I should delete and I will then judge which the loser tracks are going to be. Sad to see the old friends go but needs must when one is limited to a paltry six tracks.
Apart from that, thanks for supporting me on the world tours, and also buying the albums and making this award possible. I would like to thank my dog, not that I have one but if I did it would be an Irish Wolfhound called Basil. Also I want to thank everyone who worked so tirelessly behind the scenes and especially the caterers for always being there even when the private jet encountered turbulence and had to land in Delhi, and there were no steak knives. What a disaster that was. I still wake up at night in a sweat about using the wrong cutlery. Oh the ignominy of being improperly equipped!
Just a final word for the record comapny who have been great, and especially Dave Ox at Flotation Tank for being there when the condenser mics went down! Big thanks also to Tulip Flowerchild, Steve Scrat, Mike Polecat, Graham at Fooled Again management, Enid and Nora Hole, Flip Lemon Sole Junior, Flo Upstream, Harry Hardhat, Beaky, The Funky Fourskins, Barb Wier, Greasy Pole Publishing, and finally last and least my agent: Bill Large at Hit Em Hard and Low.
Influences: There are lot but you can't beat the sound of an overdriven Gibson played through an old fender valve amp. The Nazarene end fade is for my profile background as the original is about 10 mins long wouldn't fit..I have also taken out the vocals and drums so as not to distract.
I have just changed my mind about the Gibson thing. I have a semi acoustic guitar made by Indie and it plays a better than the lump of mahogony that is the Gibson. It is also lighter, more rich in hue and easier to play. However I would be interested to play and own a 335 but they are about as a rare as a media commentator who doesn't mention the credit crunch.
I am also going through a phase of trying to write amusing words assembled in order and in sitcom script format so music is suffering. Some would say that BBC staff who have to read my scripts are suffering too but, they should try working at Abbey Road and having to listen to Lily Allen and Starsailor all day. What a task....However there are many reasons for this, and if you drive a volvo in Hampstead yes, it is you to whom I refer. I shall go now before my stomach acids reach alarming proportions and the Indie has been too long neglected. So amps up to eleven, overdrive pedal stamped and give the neighbours a treat.
Sounds Like: A castigated eel slipping through watery mayhem towards the lock of despond. (Near Slough in case you're wondering)
Finishing touches that should have been made but were not, are many and varied, but use of a compressor would certainly be up there. As would also not trying to do too much when the feast had been cleared away and the only inspiration left was some cold brown things in some sort of suspect looking gravy, a coffee cup housing soggy dog ends and warm special brew in a mug.
Use of new strings too might also have gone down well with the general tonality and HF definition, as would not putting mics where they were dictated by lengths of lead but by judicious imaging.
I could go on, but won't. Oh yes all right then, after all if you're reading this then you are clearly some kind of loser who has too much time on your hands and is probably going to have to go soon to buy some Ace White cider and 40 Lambert and Butler before heading to the Doctor's to get the disability form resigned. I know I do....Anyway Jeremy Kyle will be on soon and the gaping open wounds of human life will be parading their sorry tales of woe, and whilst pouring hot micturative fluid into their debased and tattoed corpses, will pass it all off as entertainment. Meanwhile the hollowed out hollering husks of detritus that comprise the audience will gawp and vibrate their forelegs in appreciation of the freakish show. Sounds like? It sounds like Trisha the self righteous black horse has a competitor. Not since the egreious Vanessa Felch, has there been such rancid banter spread on the televisual mouldy bread.
Record Label: Unsigned
