In My yearly round-up that constituted much of the last ‘blog’ I forgot to mention that another favourite album of the year was “Lisbon’ by the walkmen. How could I forget? My love for the walkmen knows no bounds. In my opinion they are the best (and most influential) American rock band of the day – you can hear them in vampire weekend, the strokes, the national etc etc.. groups that maybe sell more records than they do, but when was that ever a sign of quality? Although I must say I do like all the afore mentioned groups, so possibly bad examples, but you know what I mean.
19th January, 2011
11th January, 2011
My new album is titled 'The impossible song & other songs' and comes out in the UK on Monday March 21st 2011 on Greenvoe/EMI . The touring
begins on Jan 27th in Inverness and ends (at the moment)in Pitlochry on April 24th. These gigs will be acoustic, either as a trio or quartet. Summer festivals and more shows in the autumn will feature a full electric band.
21st December, 2010
A full moon, a clear night, the glistening snow - one of the loveliest winter solstices I can remember. The snow of course is a pain if you have to travel, as any touring musician will know, but if you’re staying in one place and have sufficient fuel & food (and wine) then it’s a wonderful thing. The western isles have been hit by the worse snow for a good ten years, and although many of the roads are un-navigatable – I’m enjoying being stuck. Resourcefully I’ve converted an old fish box and a bit of rope into a fairly awesome sledge, so my son and I have been having fun in that, and in the evening, with the Christmas tree and the fire and all the lovely home made food – it’s very festive out here.
27th November, 2010
Is it this cold where you are? Granted my house has no heating, built in 1870 as it was, and it doesn’t help that not one but two electric heaters in our arsenal have given up. Fair enough I suppose - they’ve performed above and beyond the call of duty for a few winters now. Typing this at my desk I’ve three jumpers on and I can almost see my breath. I’m reminded of RS Thomas, the famously dour welsh poet & priest who lived in a stone cottage in one of the wildest, isolated and most westerly parts of Wales and was so opposed to domestic appliances (like heaters) that you could see your own breath in his house, even sitting by the fire. I’m not doing it on purpose of course. After I’ve done this I’ll go and light a fire in the living room.