the soundtrack to the day you wish you'd had
was just sent a link to this on Flickr (for once I didn’t find it through vanity searching!) – it’s from the Recycle Collective gig at Greenbelt – note four days under canvas with no razor makes for beardy gig experience.
Don’t forget next Recycle gig on Sept 20th!
Went to Southend to see Theo playing with The Tangent last night. For those of you that don’t know (I’m guessing that’s most of you), The Tangent are a prog rock band, in the old fashioned sense of mini-moogs and obscure time signature changes, too many band members and 22 minute songs. Andy Tillison, who basically IS the Tangent, is a driven man, and I have a huge amount of respect for him, bordering on awe, mixed with bewilderment… That his musical vision requires him to hire six other musicians, write this insanely complex music and play it in little clubs in Southend is a remarkable testament to his tenacity and dedication.
And it is very well played. Despite a number of nasty technical hitches (an electrical spike that shut down all the keyboards and synth stuff), the band played the ridiculously complex music very well indeed, especially considering this isn’t a band that gigs week in week out (three of them are over from Sweden for the gig), and there are moments in the gig when I’m reminded why I loved prog-rock so much in my teens – the complexity, energy, the bizarreness of grooves in 7/8, 11/8 etc – it doesn’t really sound like anything else.
But I also breathed a huge sigh of relief that I’m not destined for the kind of logistical hell that Andy is every time he puts on a gig. My own musical goals in life are scalable to the degree that I could play solo in people’s living rooms for the rest of my music life and be not only fulfilled but probably make a reasonable living doing it.
I’m rarely at the mercy of club sound engineers and sysyems built to make Stones tribute bands sound loud, not 7 progsters sound clear. Even when I add other musicians, there are never any scores to hand round, rehearsals to be hand (except the duo with Julie, and that actually made a nice change, to have things to remember for once!)
My own musical journey is one deeper into collective spontaneous composition – beyond what usually gets described as ‘free improv’ and into something where ‘Is it Good?’ is the question of the hour not ‘Is it Right?’ – it’s what the Recycle Collective is about, it’s what the duos with Theo and BJ and Cleveland are about, it’s where I’m happiest, and where I play best.
So, a salute to Andy Tillison for his remarkable tenacity in the face of unrelenting technical obstacles, and a prayer of thanks that the musical monkey on my own back isn’t quite so demanding.
It never ceases to surprise me, despite having been at St Luke’s for very nearly 10 years, that when I get back from Greenbelt, I no longer have that sinking feeling that it’ll be 361 days before I encounter that kind of intelligent, passionate, grown-up, messy, engaging, cuddly spirituality again. It for my first few years at GB, there was a rather large disconnect between the model of church I was witnessing week in week out on a sunday, and what was happen over the August bank holiday in a field in Northamptonshire. Like it has been for so many people I know, Greenbelt was entirely integral and vital to my developing into a human being, helping me deal with increasing levels of discomfort at what was happening in the various churches I attended, and also providing me with the link between social and political activism and faith. Greenbelt has always been about the intersection of the arts, spirituality and social activism – using the arts to reflect on what our spirituality compells us to do in the face of a world of wonders that’s being fucked over in so many ways. What to do when the majority of God’s children are struggling for clean water and food, while the few are dying from fast food addiction.
Back then, it was an oasis in the year, one that would hopefully sustain me throughout the rest of the year. In 1996, I took a year off from Greenbelt, as I was booked to play bass at another big church event elsewhere in the country. I spent most evenings crying at what the hell I was doing where I was – that weekend really screwed me up for a long time, and I vowed not to miss GB again for a while…
BUT, at St Luke’s, it’s basically greenbelt all year round – a church full of thinking grown-ups, not afraid of questions, doubts, fears, or disagreements; not worried about the cultural nonsense that gets mistaken for faith, not obsessed with being ‘the only ones with the truth’, and attempting to formulate an authentic spiritual life, one that causes us to negotiate the wonder of being alive as part of the gorgeousness of creation rather than wishing for it to all go away in some ‘Left Behind’ end-times-horse-shit scenario where the world can go to hell cos, hey, I’m off to heaven and you can all fuck off.
No, it’s great, and I’m forever grateful for the community there. It ain’t perfect, but it’s the best I’ve ever come across, and after a weekend in the rain-soaked, mud-covered paradise of Cheltenham Racecourse, it’s a welcome reminder that it’s no longer one weekend of the year for me.
Last night was Pat-The-Vicar’s-Secret-Weapon’s 60th birthday. Curry was eaten, wine was drunk, songs were performed (Julie and I did a handful of tunes, along with the rest of the St Luke’s Cabaret) and people danced into the small hours. Many a smiling hung-over reveler was seen in church this morning. Life in all its fullness indeed.
Happy Birthday, Pat – a party well deserved.
I really miss this little chap – and i think the tabby fairly aged feline still finds it a bit odd to not have anyone his own size running around…
Just watched the first episode of a new game show called ‘Best Of The Worst’ – I’m not usually one for blogging about TV shows (well, OK, not very often anyway), but this was the first time in years that I’ve actually cried laughing at a quiz show (last time was an episode of Never Mind The Buzzcocks a few years ago).
Anyway, it’s pants wettingly funny, particularly David Mitchell, he of Peep Show fame, who’s carved out a niche for himself as just about the most consistently funny man on TV. Don’t miss it next week…
I’ve uploaded a few favourite pictures – lots of cat ones, and this one of my fantastic grandad.
Ok, so now I’ve got one account, I want another, so here’s the normal photo one… and by ‘normal’ I mean ‘endless photos of cats’ no doubt…
so I’ve finally got myself a Flickr Account. And, unusually for me, it’s not just another example of shameless online self-promotion. It’s called ‘Steve’s Panoramics’ and it’s all the photos that I take when mucking about with the panoramic setting on my phone. It’s weird, but when you stick three slightly crap phone cam pictures together, they look kinda arty and fun, and if you weren’t looking at the screen when you took them, there’s a charmingly random element to them…
so there you go.
here’s today’s random iTunes generated playlist…
The Works – Say Yes
Juliet Turner – Falling (Live)
Juliet Turner – Doctor Fell (Live) (two in a row from the same album? what is random up to?)
Gillian Welch – Everything Is Free
Madonna – Oh Father
Ingrid Laubrock and Liam Noble – We See
Sophia – Another Trauma
Eric Roche – Faja Grande
Bill Frisell – Cadillac 1959
John Martyn – I’d Rather Be The Devil
Yup, I think I’ll listen to that lot again…
this photo was doing the rounds at Greenbelt – it’s a self portrait, taken with a timer. Oh, and it’s also a picture of a chubby naked bloke diving into a swimming pool. It’s very well timed, though why the bloke in question (a church youth worker with a frankly baffling lack of concern for job security, posting naked pictures of himself online) didn’t put some shorts on for the photo is anyone’s guess.
So yes, there’s a naked bloke in the photo, but no, it’s not even remotely sexy or disturbing, unless you’re just entirely disgusted by the concept on nudity and get undressed in the dark.
