About Me
At the very instant the idea of steve adams was conceived he was flung from an erect tower into a moist pit only to tunnel his way out after 270 days of division and well earned rest. He found himself in 1950's London where the air was filled with smog and snog and song.At 3 he ran away from the circus to the quite quiet luxury of a semi-detached suburban front and back garden with the merest hint of apple trees, gooseberry bushes and a one careful previous owner hardly used air-raid shelter.At 4 he hot footed it away from the carnival with clowns and acrobats in pursuit clutching the uniformed hat which was not his. His shoes melted.At 5 he got his tea.At 6 he watched the news followed by a chilly forecast of snow on high ground with periods of calm between the stoms that lay ahead.He soon found a glittering box of tricks containing perpetual posers, boring bullies, misplaced mouthpieces, conning conformers, uninformed uniformed informers and the last of the stick armed rulers. It was nearly all fun at the time especially when occasionally the box lid slipped open and the sun reached its hand into the corners forming glittering question marks with the crook of its little finger.He met Lonnie and turned over his dustman to reveal a magnificent golden sailing galley that first allerted him to the possibilities of another world. Woody, Leadbelly and many who where as blue and as old as the sea lurked there on the underside of those pies. They hid near his head until the time was right.Tossing the sorcerers nailed up box into the wind steve swam in the Jordan (way before plastic surgery ruined everything). Here jugglers, musicians and gamblers reminded him of what he once had. Bob made requests of the monkey, the monkey refused, and steve was never the same again.The oyster was now his world. Served on a tray of glistening perfectly opaque ice, a temperate horseradish sauce and the clearest Florida sunshine accompanied by a screaming cactus juice sandwich all followed by flaming flowers wrapped in wisp like leaves. He drank it all down even chewing thoughtfully at the impenetrable shell: then the games began.....He came a close second in a game of cards-nearly snapped.Love was a pit he fell into several times. A mixture of ringing wrungs and flowing fibres helped him to escape but at the top of every ladder a snake watches carefully for the next roll or role of the dice or die.From the Penzi-la hail to the waterfalls of En Gedi, from the Akureyri geyser to the border of long hair, from the Baja to the Buddha that reclines, from the death carts of Calcutta station to the Amber palace, from Hel to the twin towers of reckoning and then to Glasgow, which is where he has been paused for a while now.In Glasgow steve has found many with a wisdom beyond their lives, a nightmare beyond their dreams and a word that nobody can pronounce or understand. Each has been forced to take a box from the sorcerer, some contain live matches that seem to spontaneously combust when nobody is watching, some are huge wardrobes hung with materials of desire, some are the trunks of grey mythological beasts and some contain only darkness. steve messes with the locks and light switches trying to peer briefly inside.The loved ones are here too, shining their own torches, ploughing fugitive furrows and humming their own tunes. steve says thank you to them all.
And from all this comes the songs that he writes today. You might recognise bits of it here and there though it is not always explicit. Often the tongue is so far in cheek you would assume it is held there by a screw and even (with a screw) in somebody else's cheek.IT IS AS SIMPLE AS THATSo, steve hopes you enjoy the tunes, please feel free to sing along and let him know how it feels when you do.
