the patella is trying to escape

No Parcels arrived this morning. I’m not too disappointed, but thought that ParcelForce man might turn up with something, perhaps a parcel that no one else wanted. I don’t know. After the GC practise I can noodle with the new Godin, which is nice.

The Secret Project is almost finished. Perhaps it may stop being secret soon. It’s not a very well kept secret apart from me, but I promised…

In between tranches of secrecy I go to the gym. Only a semi-successful run on account of my knee deciding to be a complete pain in the… in the.. in the middle of my leg, actually. I think it might be a trapped nerve, although it also feels like the patella is trying to escape. Any medical minded people who want to clue me in, go ahead.

Back to work for a couple more hours. I listen to the still-bootleg version of the new Radiohead album and then Kid A and some of Amnesiac. Gosh, it’s fabulous stuff. I’m very much looking forward to getting the proper album when it comes out. And the Steely Dan one.

In between a couple of Radiohead albums I accidentally listen (well it came on and I couldn’t bear to turn it off) to Sing to God by Cardiacs. There is some singing along. There is also laughter and a touch of air-punching. It’s the greatest album you’ve (probably) never heard. Just saying is all.

Mmm, fascinating, I know.

Yesterday’s exertions cause me to oversleep badly. Or rather oversleep very competently indeed. I eventually stumble out of bed, check my weight (I am almost a normal weight – what a life I lead where being almost normal is considered to be some kind of achievement), sit for a bit, breakfast and get down to work.

The door goes – it’s the same ParcelForce guy from yesterday, with an even bigger box than before. He asks whether I’m expecting anything tomorrow morning. I say no, but he tells me that he’ll probably be in the area at about 9:00 anyway.

The box is stuff from Thomann – new Drum stool (or throne as they like to call it. Very comfortable it is too, with a saddle seat), and a lot of wires. Oh, and a couple of microphone stands, with the little clips that hold the microphones onto them (I’ve managed to break all mine). There’s also a pop-shield. Yes I know you can make these for virtually nothing out of a stocking and a coat hanger, but the frustration of trying to get my home made one to fit on the stand has driven me to buying one. And a dinky little USB-MIDI converter. Mmm, fascinating, I know.

Um, that’s about it for the day – extrapolate the work towards the evening, where (because I can’t play with the new guitar because of the Guitar Craft At A Distance day off restrictions, chiz chiz) I play with Logic instead and trying to get the UC-16 to do stuff.

Exposing oneself to public ridicule

Day spent as usual – Secret Project, another slightly less secret one, gym, that sort of thing. Another guitar arrived (a Godin ACS SA which looks, feels and sounds lovely – another hit from those Canadian fellows. The whole guitar thing has gone beyond absurd to ridiculous.

In the evening I troll along to a glam West End venue to lay odd noises over Joe’s songs, meet the next new bass player. Joe’s been bumped to 10:30, so there’s a lot of waiting around to be done, some of which I spend watching bands, some of which I spend sitting on the steps of the venue.

Of course it over-runs, and it’s past my bedtime by the time we get on. I spend the whole set making horrible noises, entirely inappropriate ones at that, and I think ruining the whole thing, but then it’s all a tad chaotic anyway. The amp decides only to have two settings (far too quiet and far too loud) and most of my carefully thought out arrangements go out of the window, and quite right too, probably.

Everyone is very nice about it, though. Some thoughts:

  • Exposing oneself to public ridicule can often be an educational experience
  • Laws of karma insist that one only have positive thoughts about the other bands on the bill or else you’ll be karma’d pretty sharpish, oh yes.
  • In order to act with intention you need to know what you’re doing.

Home at 12:30, bed at 1:00. Ohh god.

an understanding that has leeched in from a parallel universe

Hmm. I appear to be very bad at keeping up with this at the moment. Poo.

Joe has found a replacement bass player for me at the gig tomorrow night. However through some bizarre misunderstanding (or perhaps an understanding that has leeched in from a parallel universe) I will be taking my guitar along. I spend the afternoon writing patches for different songs. In fact I miss the gym and only get to the Three Stags just in time for the jam.

Quite a nice evening, although for the first few songs it’s a bit bizarre. The influence of that parallel universe again. People appear to be listening to my solos, which is a tad scary, particularly when Ivory on piano hushes up, I get lost, and pause to listen to the chords and he hushes up more. And plays interesting substitutions. It’s all jazz, though, innit.

There’s a whip round. It’s nice to be paid for this stuff.

70s cop shows

Gym. Downloading soundfonts and making eight bar loops of things that sound vaguely like the music from 70s cop shows. Phil comes over to do the cover for the new album, but his file has come through scrambled. We make do.

I suppose you knew that

Meet up with Phil and Fuji for lunch at the Courtyard Cafe. Small table sets me on edge, but we finally move to larger table, which is nice. I buy a Godin nylon string guitar from eBay. Yes, another guitar. I’m obviously quite mad, then, but I suppose you knew that.