|
|
| 
PREV 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 NEXT
LIFE IN SLOW MOTION |
posted by jim on 7/08/07
|
A
Yesterday we began our rehearsals for the winter Carter gigs. The idea is to rehearse once a week to get back into making the songs feel natural and remove a bit of the panic attack and nervous breakdown at the gigs. The session went well, a few technical problems but that was to be expected. Rehearsing locally too, which makes the whole thing more of a pleasure. Also, rehearsal studios like music shops can sometimes be run by miserable, offish types but we seem to have stumbled upon a so far so friendly and not too miserable studio. Let’s hope we don’t upset them by blowing up their PA system.
B
The sun is out which makes a pleasant change after all the floods. I even sat in the garden a couple of times last week. Mainly because the neighbours seem to have gone away so I don’t have to listen to their relentless shouting. Can’t remember the last time I sat in the garden without headphones on. It’s nice to hear the birdies whistling.
C
I wish my new LP was out. This will probably be the longest it’s taken me from writing via recording to actual release of an album. The terror is that I won’t like it when it does eventually come out. My most recent memory is of a great record though.
D
I’ve started, much to the annoyance of my long-suffering family, another ‘book’. If I ever finish writing it, expect to read it while you’re watching the closing ceremony for the London Olympic Games.
E
I’m still an unpublished fiction author by the way. Had some more rejection letters though. I now don’t bother reading my post: I just measure it.
F
My mood at the moment is impatient. What does the smiley-type face thing look like for that emotion? Waiting for the Carter gigs. Waiting to release my new LP. Waiting for press meetings. Sleeve designs. Videos. Waiting to get published. Waiting for lots of other stuff and on other people.
G
I think I might go and sit in the garden.
H I J K L M N O P
|
FLOOD! |
posted by jim on 20/07/07
|
I was at East Croydon railway station this morning, when a couple of rozzers with one of those drug sniffer dogs came over and gave me a bit of a sniff (the dog not one of the coppers). Naturally I was drug free, although I was slightly concerned nevertheless that the dog might pick up the scent of skunk or something similar in my clothing. Like that thing about all US dollar bills having traces of cocaine in them, perhaps it was the same for anyone living in Lambeth. I might have picked up spliff whiff from just walking to the bus stop this morning. Anyway, the dog gave me a bit of nose around and then moved on to the next person. I’d got away with it. On the way home, through what will in the future become known as the Great Flood of Croydon and Thornton Heath, I thought that they should let one of those dogs loose in the Houses of Parliament and see what happens. Seems everyone in there all had a bang on a spliff at some point or other. I might fashion this idea into a short story.
Because I’m an author don’t you know. An unpublished author at the moment admittedly. But not for lack of trying. You may have heard or read about this bloke David Lassman, who sent beginnings of Jane Austen books, with changed names to various leading publishers and agents, only to get all but one of them rejected as unsuitable for publishing. The article said,
‘Mr Lassman expected to be branded a fraud. But he was surprised when publishers and agents failed to spot they had been sent the work of Austen. Bloomsbury, publisher of the Harry Potter books, for instance, suggested the chapters had been read "with interest" but were not "suited to our list".
I’ve had that exact rejection letter from Bloomsbury myself. It arrived in the post in an envelope with my address on, written in my own handwriting, on the day before I read about the Lassman scam. Still, to be fair to Bloomsbury, it is Harry Potter season again and as the specky wizard’s publishers they must be too rushed off their feet to have time to read anything else. I’m surprised there hasn’t been a lot of press and TV, radio etc about the new Potter book. You honestly wouldn’t know the thing was out.
Rejection letters from publishers do make you question your own worth, so it’s good to know that it’s nothing personal and that they probably haven’t read what you’ve written at all. Just taken it out of one envelope, made a note of your name and put it into another envelope (the stamped addressed envelope you sent them with your manuscript) and dropped it in the out tray. I won’t give up my day job just yet.
Talking of which, yesterday we began filming a video for ‘Battling The Bottle’ from my new LP. The vid stars me (naturally) and also the method acting of Mr Spoons. Spoons was up at 4 this morning, filming mores stuff for the video in Leigh-on-Sea (home of the master butcher of). I’m looking forward to seeing the finished results soon. For a clue to the video’s theme, check this out
You can also see some of Mr Spoons’ other work pop promo work here
Oscar!
|
LIVE EARTH LIVE BLOG |
posted by jim on 7/07/07
|
LIVE!
For the second Saturday afternoon in a row I’m sat indoors on a sunny day watching a pop concert at Wembley Stadium. This week it’s just while I’m waiting for the Tour De France to start on ITV4. I’ve got Freeview now, so I can watch the French cycling more often than in previous years, when I could only video the once a weekly highlights show on ITV1 at two in the morning.
Last week’s Diana concert at Wembley was pretty rubbish but somehow less annoying than this Live Earth one. At least at the Diana show the acts didn’t have to lie about why they were there. I find it hard to believe that the Pussycat Dolls for example are really that committed to forcing the governments of the world towards policy change. Every now and again some comedian will come on to be interviewed by Jonathan Ross and they’ll joke about how they couldn’t really give much of a shit about climate change. Jonathan Ross clearly doesn’t care either.
Genesis weren’t much of a pub band to kick the whole thing off either, surely Hayseed Dixie or a Quo covers band would have been better. And is Johnny Borrell from Razorlight going to be the new Bono one day? I think so, look at him down on his knees in his cap sleeve t-shirt, half way up that Wembley Bono-walkway.
I was reading various interviews in the Radio Times with some of the acts appearing. Most of them when asked about their least environmentally friendly habit they said it was flying. But at the same time didn’t seem too keen to change that. Beyond planting a tree, or paying some company to plant one for them.
Chris Moyles wants to know if we’re up for saving the planet. How could I possibly refuse Chris Moyles?
Oh Christ, Snow Patrol are onstage now. When’s the cycling?
Joss Stone was talking this morning about how we should all plant a tree and how it’s easy. It only takes five minutes she said. Just dig a hole and plant the tree.
Spinal Tap are playing later. They may be the least ironic band playing.
I wonder what next week’s Wembley concert will be for?
|
I ONCE PLAYED ON THAT BIG STAGE WHERE THE ARCTIC MONKEYS WERE ON |
posted by jim on 25/06/07
|
Me
Okay, I bought the Wellington boots – I won’t call them Wellies, I’ve got to retain some punk rock dignity for God’s sake – anyway, I bought the Wellingtons. Shiny black and one pound ninety-nine. Slightly jack-bootish looking I suppose. My manager’s boots were pink, to balance the whole fascists in touch with their feminine side of things thing. No, I don’t know what that means either.
Other stuff:
It was raining a lot. You may have heard. To get across quite how much it rained, at one point Team Jim Bob found themelves sheltering from it in the ambient trance tent.
At 1 in the afternoon on Friday I played three songs in the rain in front of the Shelter Wall of Shame
For my gig on the Friday night, I was terrified that with the Arctic Monkeys, Bjork, Fatty Slim and Hot Chip all performing elsewhere at the same time as me, I’d be making my Glastonbury comeback in front of two men and a dog. And they don’t let dogs in. So it was a pleasant surprise to find a big and enthusiastic crowd in the Brixton Academy sized Leftfield tent. All singing along and making me feel special. I had to cut a couple of songs from the set because of time troubles and the differing American clock system but I think I got away with it.
Every time we walked anywhere near the Pyramid Stage I felt compelled to point out to anybody who might be listening that I once headlined it.
Didn’t see a lot of other bands but, Neds and Cud were good. The Beat were excellent. I met Rankin Roger’s son once, when I was recording that Ian Dury Y2K song with Fuzz Townshend and Rankin Junior popped round Fuzz’s house. Saw little snippets of Modest Mouse, The Fratellis and caught a bit of the View. Namely the bit where they played the worst cover version of any song ever in the world ever. And it’s one I’ve ruined myself. (Squeeze’s ‘Up The Junction’) (in a ska style).
The sun came out for Bright Eyes’ wonderful set. Conor Bright Eyes was wearing a white suit (including shoes), I presume some roadies had to carry him to the stage. He’s only small I suppose. Maybe next year I’ll leave the Wellington boots at home and get Mr Spoons to carry me around all weekend. Yes, that’s when I play next year. I’ve been sort of asked back already. Which is partly why I won’t be telling you a few amusing stories about Joss Stone. That and the libel laws.
|
THE DEER HUNTER |
posted by jim on 17/06/07
|
I’m playing Glastonbury Festival at the weekend and it feels a bit like I’m about to begin my tour of duty in the Vietnam War, or as they call it in Vietnam – the American War. People keep giving me advice. Passing on their knowledge and survival tips. Their experience from their time in the field. They want to tell me their horror stories and share what they've learned from them.
I want to laugh it all off and say, ‘it’s just a gig’. 'How bad can it possibly get?' But I keep quiet because otherwise I’ll only end up with egg on my face, or trench foot, or I’ll drown in a Somerset sludge torrent. I’ll take all the advice, fill my rucksack with lots of socks and some empty carrier bags, for my dirty clothes and to slip over my feet when it pisses down with rain. I won’t wear Wellington boots though. I’m not five years old or a member of the Countryside Alliance – or what Chris T-T calls them for short – Instead I’ll have to make do with my Doc Martens. I might wear the steel toecap pair though. I’ve only worn them the once before. Mainly because they’re a bit heavy and it can be tiring walking in them. I wore them the other day on stage at the Islington Academy gig I did for the Shelter charity supporting Cud. I was wary of stamping my feet in case I broke the stage, drowned out the sound of my guitar, or made my beer catapult into the air and kill someone in the audience. The other fear about wearing steel toecap boots is that I might not be able to resist the urge to kick people. That’s what they were made for I believe.
On Friday I went to the wedding of Mr and Mrs Spoons. Mr Spoons is my über roadie Neil. He drives me to gigs and tunes my guitar. He knows his way around the streets and roads of Britain better than any sat nav. Neil is my TomTom. My NeilNeil. He also does this website and cooks food when I record albums. He’s a Jack of all trades and a master of a fair few of them too. Turns out he’s great at weddings too. I haven’t heard so much laughter at a wedding before, and not just during the speeches or when Neil was body popping around the dancefloor or doing his Gary Numan impression, but also in the ceremony itself. Often a stuffy, nerve filled part of the whole wedding thing. A lovely day. On Thursday Spoons will be putting up a tent in what I hope is more of a dusty than muddy field. I bet he’s brilliant at that too. I bet he turns out to be like Ray Mears.
Anyway. See you on the other side. Hope I don’t end up hooked on smack, wearing a headband, playing Russian Roulette, having completely forgotten who I, Robert De Niro or Mr Spoons are.
|
SSSHHH |
posted by jim on 26/05/07
|
I feel a bit between things at the moment. I’ve finished re-re-re-re writing my novel and I’ve sent a few copies to various people for them to ignore for a while. I’ve pretty much completed my new album and I’m just waiting for a free day on the studio’s calendar so I can remix that one last song. I’ve got a few festival appearances lined up for the summer, and then of course there are those Carter shows later in the year to look forward to. But in the meantime, I keep making lists of stuff I need to do without actually doing any of it. All the boring things I have to do like my accounts and tidying up the house.
It was good to take a break from my break with a gig in a library. I played at Wimbledon Library last year, reading from my Carter book and playing a few songs to an intimate crowd in an upstairs room. This time I was in Richmond Library. In the actual library itself. The Pyramid Stage. It was the first solo gig I’d ever done without a single member of Team Jim Bob there with me. Usually both, and at least always one of either Marc or Mr Spoons have been at every solo show so far. With Marc in Ireland and Spoons in Berlin I felt a bit lost beforehand. I don’t know how solo artists and stand up comedians go on tours on their own. It must be so lonely. Aside from playing some tunes I was also reading from my ‘mini novel’ and just to ad a bit more stress and pressure I decided to have a go at live harmonica for the first time.
I thought the gig went really well. Reading aloud for an audience isn’t quite as easy as you might imagine. It’s hard not to get tongue tied (I played that song) or be taken over by your paranoia that everyone is just wishing you’d shut up and play Sheriff Fatman. As it turned out, the audience were appreciative and laughed in most of the right places. I was home by ten. And still sober, having only had a couple of plastic cups of wine form the box on the library counter.
I must do my accounts today.
|
EURO LOSS OF PERIPHERAL VISION |
posted by jim on 14/05/07
|
He’s going and they’re back . Ten years ago I remember sitting up all night watching the general election on a tour bus, parked outside a Stoke venue after a Carter gig. Even though I’d voted Liberal because I didn’t like Tony Blair, it still felt good to watch the government I hated squirming. Now I don’t honestly know how I feel. Blair’s resigned. Gordon Brown, texture like sun, will probably be the next prime minister. Then what happens? David Cameron? It’s all become so depressingly predictable. Like the Eurovision Song Contest. I doubt the United Kingdom will ever win that again. Not even if Morrissey does sing our entry. It would be good to have a song in the competition though, that we could all feel disgusted and put upon as a nation when it doesn’t get many points from the Eastern Europeans, the Balkans and Scandinavians. Incidentally, a weird thing happened while I was watching Scooch perform their song. I don’t know if it was their Union Jack visuals or the Easy Jet clothes, or perhaps because I’d just sat through an hour and a half of Euro pop, but I suddenly got this awful headache when Scooch were on. And these shapes and colours appeared in front of my eyes, like I’d looked straight at the sun. I honestly thought I was going blind. The shapes and colours cleared after about fifteen minutes but I’ve still got the headache today.
I’ve been off the chocolate. Haven’t hardly eaten any branded stuff other than Fair Trade chocolate, which is too expensive and too hard to get hold of to eat all that often. It’s good – or rather, bad – for my expanding waistline as well as my conscience. And it’s all because of Daniel Bedingfield. oops sorry I saw him on TV a few weeks back talking about how the manufacture of most chocolate involves child slavery. From that Bedingfiled moment on I’ve hardly eaten any. And we used to get through a fair bit in our house. I in particular have always considered it my duty to try out all new brands of chocolate and in particular the mongrel bars like orange Kit Kats and white chocolate flakes. It’s been a bit of a nightmare recently, having to resist the lure of the new Aero Bubbles or Mars Planets, which they’re really pushing (like heroin for me) on the telly at the moment.
It’s usually around this point that someone will point out why Fair Trade is such a misguided concept but we can’t all be perfect. I don’t eat meat, haven’t done for twenty five years but I do own a pair of leather monkey boots and some cherry red Doc Martens too. We all draw our line where we choose to draw it.
I’ve said it many times before but my next album is the dogs naughty bits. It’s taken me longer than anything I’ve ever done before to complete. And it’s still not quite done. But I’m really looking forward to people hearing it and hopefully liking it. The wait between now and the album’s release will probably be a fairly long one. Until the winter I think.
My next gig is in Richmond Library. I’m playing some songs and reading something fictional. Most likely a bit from this story I’ve written. I had a practice read today and kept getting tongue tied. I don’t know how authors ever make it all the way through the recording of an audio book. It would take me about a year.
I’m also writing some sleevenotes for a Carter anthology that EMI will be releasing to coincide with the October and November shows. We prefer to be involved, rather than it coming out unexpectedly stuck to the front of the Mail on Sunday
Mmm Aeros.
|
A SECOND BITE OF THE CHERRY |
posted by jim on 22/04/07
|
I seem to have made a mockery of Andy Warhol's quarter of an hour fame theory by getting a bonus ten minutes. Somehow I'm not the same person I was the day before we announced the Carter reunion show. My girlfriend's sister asked me what it was like to be famous again. There was a nice piece in Time Out that mentioned Carter without the usual snide bracketed insult. I went to Athens for a solo acoustic gig and a big Greek promoter showed up. He was hoping to get a Carter show booked in Athens. When I got home there was another Carter gig offer amongst my emails, I expect more to follow. I feel guilty for turning them down. When I was drunk in Athens, for a brief cocktail and adrenalin fueled moment I started to imagine getting on a big bus and going to Barcelona and Zagreb, to Berlin and Vienna and all those exotic places where Carter were well received.
I was reading the Sunday papers today and when I saw the ads for gigs by Devo and other names from the past, I was almost disappointed that the Carter gig had sold out so fast. We'd saved a load of cash by canceling all the intended advertising that we didn't need anymore. But then I thought that, aside from us and the audience, the world might never know we'd got back together at all. I suppose I thought I might have been able to use the oxygen of publicity to breathe life into my solo career and get me and my new album onto Jools Holland and the Mercury Music Prize podium. And maybe even get a book publishing deal too. But now nobody is going to believe me. Maybe we should take out a big ad in The Observer with the words SOLD OUT slapped across it.
I'm a natural worrier. I worry that after this is all over and everything goes back to normal, will it? Will it go back to normal? Were people coming to my solo gigs because they knew that one day I might do the Carter songs properly? Has the thrill of the chase now gone? What happens next? I know the logical thing to do is to play my summer festivals, finish recording my album, and look forward to a great winter and one maybe two legendary Carter gigs. I should just try and enjoy the ride. And make sure I get off the ride before it reaches the latter pages of my Carter autobiography. And as anyone who's read it knows, make sure I say no to any offers of a gig in Croydon.
|
THE LOST ART OF KEEPING A SECRET |
posted by jim on 8/04/07
|
So, the secret is out
Carter are doing a gig at Brixton Academy on November 2nd. I can now stop telling everybody.
Keeping secrets has never been one of my strengths. I like a bit of a gossip. I like to be the first to tell people things they don’t know. I talk behind people’s backs. I’m prone to exaggeration. I should work behind the bar of a Rovers Return style pub or read the news on the BBC.
Other people in my family aren’t so good at keeping secrets either. When I was in Devon the other week, I nipped into the pub where my nephew Ryan works. While I was there I told him about the strong likelihood of the Carter gig happening and asked him to not tell anyone about it. The next day I went back to the pub and my nephew introduced me to a bloke at the bar who used to be a Carter fan. I said hello and the bloke at the bar said something like, ‘I saw Carter play a few times in Exeter. Ryan told me you’re doing a reunion gig in London in November.’
Now the gig has been officially announced I can concentrate on worrying about how successful it will be. Pretty much as soon as we agreed to play those four Carter songs for Wiz at the Islington Academy in March, my bad gig dreams – as featured in my split your sides Carter book – began. Since then I’ve continued to dream that I’m about to go onstage without any trousers. Or I’ll already be onstage and I can’t remember any of the words to the songs that we’re performing out of tune. Oh, and loads of other strange gig and pre-gig disasters.
This month’s recommendations from me.
|
THE SHERBET FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH |
posted by jim on 29/03/07
|
I’ve been continuing with the Michael Palinesque recording sessions for my new album. Today I’m in South London doing a spot of singing, competing with my neighbours shouting and banging. At least it’s raining today so they can’t get out their power tools. Tomorrow I’m back down at the big studio in Hampshire doing backing vocals and glockenspiels and all that kind of caper.
I’ve also just back from Cornwall, where I was recording a couple of tracks with the Zebs Choir. We were recording at the Zebs Music Project with Kev and Tim – formerly of the Family Cat – engineering and organising and making me feel welcome.
12 teenagers showed up in Truro on the Sunday to sing and clap and bang stuff. The results are fantastic. The recordings won’t be released for a while, so in the meantime I recommend you go to this link and buy a copy of the Zebs compilation album. It’s only a five spot plus postage and will help support a project that is much needed in these youth hating times.
On the way to Cornwall I went to see my sister in Devon. Much of my time there was spent with my young nephew, practicing Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ for an audition he had coming up for a part in a musical. I’ll let you know if gets it.
These four days spent with the young, talented and enthusiastic has had a positive effect on my cynical old fart’s mind.
I just wanted to tell someone, hope that's okay.
|
PREV 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 NEXT
|
|
|
|