Tag Archives: writing

Antarctic adventure: beginnings

On Friday 8th November, I’m flying to Rio where he will board a sailing ship bound for the Antarctic on a songwriting mission like no other, battling fierce storms, icebergs and randy penguins, armed only with some blank musical notepaper, a melodica and a pencil.

The plan is to take two months to sail down the Atlantic coasts of Brazil, Uruguay and Argentina, making the crossing from Cape Horn across Drake’s Passage to Antarctica sometime in December. Fingers crossed we get good weather, because we’re sailing the whole thing…

Iceberg by Uta Wollf (Wikimedia Commons, CC-BY-SA )
Iceberg by Uta Wollf (Wikimedia Commons, CC-BY-SA )

I’ll be writing as much music as I can manage in between taking watches on deck. Unlike my normal writing practice, I won’t be able to crack open a laptop and fire up GarageBand to record demos as I go; most of the time we’ll be without much spare power, and in any case I’m not taking my own laptop. Instead, I’ll be transcribing everything by hand onto notepaper, using a melodica (a small keyboard-cum-mouth organ you blow into) to check as I go.

The boat’s being crewed by the Adventure 2013 collective, most of whom know from volunteering with sail training charity OYT South. Now, this isn’t as hard as it was 400 years ago – I’m not going to pretend that – but many of the things we take for granted about sailing the the West, like 24/7 air-sea rescue, detailed forecasts and the RNLI, won’t be available. I also have no idea how much time and energy I’ll actually have spare for writing (we’ll be on watch every day), or even any energy (it’ll be summer in the Southern Hemisphere, but still regularly -5 or -10 degrees). Plus almost everything I write, I’ll have forgotten by the time I get back to London, so I’ll only have my transcribed notes to go on.

Will I return with an album of trancendental beauty? With an album about my crewmates’ washing habits? Will I return at all (really hope so)?

Who knows. But the first chapter in any travelogue is the leaving do, which will be at The Islington, London N1.

Free entry, music all night and Lonely Joe Parker, live with band. See you there shipmates!


http://www.adventure2013.co.uk/

Dear Steve – a brief guide to the modern music business in the UK

Note: a friend of mine knows a young, talented, attractive, committed singer/songwriter. They asked for my advice. 

PS: we have a gig in Soho next week. No coincidence..

 

 

Hey Steve,

mental week here, sorry it’s taken a while to write you a proper response..

The first question is, where is she/you based? If in the UK then great. If not then all my subsequent advice comes with the heavy caveat that I might well be talking total shit, rather than just out of my arse. If you are UK based, look seriously at joining AIM (musicindie.org) – the trade association of independent labels.

Secondly, always remember music. is. a. business. no. matter. what. country. or. genre. you. look. at. so some of this always applies.

Thirdly, remember that this is a long-haul enterprise. It takes a minimum of 3 years to break an act that is already running on all cylinders, producing great music and replicating it live.

Probably the best option for releasing the music at this stage is to set up a single-artist label – people do this all the time for self-release and there’s nothing wrong with it. In fact I would say the majority of releases (rather than majority of revenue, note) these days are self-releases. You will still be able to get things done, no problem. Working in that way (rather than trying to get signed) has the added advantage that if someone does want to sign her in the future it’s easy for them  – if you have a prior commitment with a smaller label there will usually be a buy-out or release clause, or other exclusivity criteria t=

On Jet Lag

When I first started working on the building sites with Nick, my stepdad,
I couldn’t understand
How a 50 year-old-man could get up before the birds,
Drive hundreds of miles,
Grapple with concrete all day,
Turn around at dusk,
And do it all again (with a smile on his face).

One morning,
At coffee,
I asked him how he did it.

He smiled his smile at me, and said
‘You only ever need to get to the next break’
And dozed off.

Nick looks even more like an old fox when he’s asleep.

hay. ku?

I don’t normally write haikus or anything, and this one is lame as fuck, and i’m not pretending it’s not. but it just popped into my head, fully formed, and all metred right and stuff, so i think i’m not gonna risk incurring the wrath of ignoring my inner Master Yoshi by not splurging it out here, sorry.

plus i just had some real cheap nasty chilli sauce and the world is starting to pulse and twinkle a little bit like mushrooms. huh.

The Past
——

I’m not a monster
Because you loved me once, and
You’re not a monster

see? warned you. off now to be sick…

Cooking Time

=Gourmet Noodles For Beginners=

SO in my pursuit of musical glory through not having a proper job (and it’s working – voted 5th best original indie band from Hampshire by readers of the Basingstoke Post 2 years running) I’ve been steadily refining my ‘living on ten quid a gig’ technique and a big part of this is budget food; as your mum probably told you when you went off to college ‘invest in yourself and buy good fresh food, not cheap shit’.

Bollocks to that though, you’re brassic and you need last night’s gas money to buy some bogroll to deal with this morning’s kebab detritus. You need to economise, badly. So here I proudly present my ultimate noodles recipe. This is seriously next-level shit, Blumenthal WISHES he had my other recipes…

NOODLES A LA LONELY JOE PARKER:

Preparation time: 7 minutes
Serves: 4

Ingredients:
*4 Packs value noodles – the 9p jobs
*1 Pack of value veg cup-a-soup (4 sachets – the 17p jobs)
*Water
*A kettle
*4 Mugs
*Pepper / salt / tombasco / soy sauce / brown sauce / mustard / adrenachrome / other seasoning / blah

Cooking instructions:

1. Put water in the kettle and boil it.*

2. Put one pack of noodles in each mug. Don’t put the little flavour sachet in yet – and if you’re really skilled/pedantic you should be able to split the packs of noodles lengthways so that they stand up in the cup. This way they cook quicker, flavour more evenly and the noodles are nice and long and stringy when done.
If you can’t be arsed with that just mash them in there.

3. Completely fill the mugs to the top with water. There’s gonna be some air in there too so swill it around gently with a fork to get rid of that shit.

4. Do something else with your life for 5 minutes. Like, write ‘Spanish Girls’ or ‘Love Jugs’…

5. The noodles should be bigger and softer now. Pour away about a centimetre of water from each mug, or a bit more or less if that’s what you like.

6. Add the sachet of powder that came with the noodles, and also a sachet of cup-a-soup. This is the clever bit because the soup makes it thicker and also adds things like peas and chunks of carrot that make it a) look a bit more like a proper Pot Noodle, and b) decorates your puke nicely. Stir well.

7. Add condiments (or sauces as we used to call them back in the Thatcher years) to taste. Leave for a minute or so and maybe blat it in the microwave if you really want to.

8. Sit back and enjoy! You now have the makings of your very own noodle dinner party (that’s right, you do live in a squat, but face it, you’re as middle-class as a Plane Stupid demo) – why not have a competition to see who can make the best one?

!!CAUTION!!
Eating this crap for seven goddamn years will definitely turn your body into a sexy tower of muscle and sinew. Nah, really you’ll look like a big soft noodle yourself. But have more money to spend on white cider – yay.

*You can do this with a metal kettle on a van engine. But be ready for the diesel-y goodness.