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FRACTURED PARTY PLAYLIST: LYRICS EDITION 

Whether it's long-form storytelling or a clever turn of phrase, it's lyrics that get my heart pounding and pupils dilating in the same way a ripping guitar solo or drum n bass drop may hit others. 

I've created a Spotify playlist of some of my favourite lyrics. Below are my reasons as to why I chose them. Spend time with them if you fancy it!  

 

KAE TEMPEST - MARSHALL LAW 
Kae has the ultimate knack for painting a deep picture in as few strokes as possible, through meticulously chosen words and incredible delivery. "Marshall Law" sees the protagonist being chatted up in a trendy bar full of posh media types. She sets the scene perfectly with the line, "Everybody here has a hyphenated second name. Blowing more breeze than the wind at the weather vane." From these two lines you know EXACTLY who is in that bar. I also love the imagery of the cab drive home with her girlfriends: "They pass a bottle of wine back and forth, let it clash against their teeth." Again, it paints such a detailed picture with so few words. 

 

MICAH SCHNABEL - THE INTERVIEW 
An intense first person story about a man answering generic interview questions with crushing honesty. 

" Well, how exactly do you see yourself?" 

" Well, in my mind I'm a singer in a hardcore band. But the truth is that I work in a bar. I take the trash out and I take the money at the door. But some nights when it’s slow I try drawing pictures of the person I always thought I would be. It seems no matter how much I scribble or erase it never looks anything like me." 

As with Kae, Micha has painted such a deep image with so few words. For me, this imagery is SO visual. When I hear this part of the song it plays in my head like a movie. 

 

DAVID BYRNE - I SHOULD WATCH TV 
I heard this song for the first time last week when I watch American Utopia - a bizarre and beautiful Broadway show starring David performing his work. Throughout the whole of American Utopia David reflects on the themes of belonging and understanding, epitomised is this clunky, angular tune. 

"I used to think that I should watch TV. I used to think that it was good for me. Wanted to know what folks were thinking. To understand the world I live in." 

Byrne has very much, either by necessity or design, adopted the persona of the outsider looking in, deconstructing modern life to highlight how absolutely bizarre it is. It's a fun position to take. 

 

PUP - WAITING 
As well as being an absolute bop, Stefan spits a beautifully sarcastic line about his recent therapy, delivered with such venom!  

"200 bucks a week to talk about my lack of direction? I've got a bit of a complex.  
In case that wasn't clear from the last three sessions." 

Side note - alongside Against Me!, PUP are the band we NEED to tour with!  

 

SUPERGLU - SOIL 
"Come on my darling, my sweetheart, my precious. Everything's gonna be fine. It's got to be." 

Ah! The words "it's got to be" bring such desperation to the line. I see the singer, Ben, with his arm around his partner, trying to protect them but also knowing that whatever plan he has is their last and only option. Holding hands, balancing on a tightrope across a chasm. "Everything's gonna be fine. It's got to be." It genuinely hits me in the feels every time.  

 

YARD ACT - RICH 
I like Yard Act. Another act relatively new to me, dripping with Ian Dury-esque sarcasm and wit. For me, first lines are so important in music.  

"Almost by accident, I have become rich. Through continued reward for skilled labour in the private sector and a genuine lack of interest in expensive things, it appears I have become rich." 

In contrast to Superglu above who said absolutely everything in just four words, Yard act are incredibly wordy and expand and dive into this simple concept, highlighting the ridiculousness by picking it apart. Kind of David Byrne-esque. Very smart and funny. Great delivery too.  

 

SLEAFORD MODS - MORK N MINDY 
Sleaford Mods are one of my favourite bands and Jason one of my favourite wordsmiths. I've picked this one because it's a rare glimpse of Jason's vulnerability.  

"Mork 'n' Mindy, Action Man 'n' Cindy. I don't mess about. I make 'em kiss each other when my mum 'n' dad go out." 

Suddenly someone who is usually barking tales about cocaine, wankers on the scene and the smell of piss is reflecting on his childhood. The idea of him waiting until his parents leave to make his dolls kiss really highlights a different side to Jason - an innocent self-consciousness. 

 

SELF-ESTEEM - MOODY 
"Sexting you at the mental health talks seems counter-productive".  

Best opening line of 2021. Next. 

 

LITTLE SIMZ - INTROVERT  
For me, the stand out song on the album. The drama in this tune would not see it out of place in the West End. It's hard to pick just one line from this tune as it is SO deep, thought-provoking and dramatic. I love the dichotomy of big and small throughout.  

"Angel said, "Don't let you ego be a disturbance." 

Inner demon said, "Motherfucker, you earned this!"  

 

ART BRUT - MY LITTLE BROTHER 
Art Brut are one of the biggest influences on PET NEEDS. Eddie Argos has an incredible way of creating art that can seem irreverent and comedic on first listen, but goes so much deeper. 

In this tune he talks about the rock n roll songs his 22 year old sibling has discovered through throwing shapes on the indie disco dance floor ("watch him go now!") 

"Every song. Every single song on that tape says exactly the same thing: Why aren't our parents worried about us?!" 

 

THE STREETS - ON THE EDGE OF A CLIFF 
The Street are probably my most listened to artist. I love the cyclical tale of this song. In the beginning, the protagonist is lying on the edge of a cliff about to jump, when he is approached by an old man who talks him down. Later in the tune, the protagonist finds another man lying on the edge of the very same cliff and talks him down with the very same story. 

"For billions of years since the outset of time, every single one of your ancestors has survived. Every single person on your mum and dad's side successfully looked after and passed on to you life.  

What are the chances of that, like? It comes to me once in a while. And everywhere I tell folk it gets the best smile." 

I also love how Mike Skinner uses colloquialisms in his work, to make profound ideas sound like a conversation between mates in the pub. "What are the chances of that, like?" 

 

FRANK TURNER - FAREWELL TO MY CITY 
When we were recording our second album with Frank, we stopped play so he could play us this tune, and I was blown away. 

There's some fantastic, almost tuneful lyricism, "Past a thousand bars I'd haunted, broken-hearted after dark", but for me the big pay off is in the refrain at the end. 

Referring back to his seminal "England Keep My Bones" album, the call to arms of "London, you can keep my bones!" is SO satisfying. A call-back to previous work is something I've used often in PET NEEDS (and there are MANY Easter Eggs in Album 2!) 

I love the poignant reflection in "Farewell to My City". Frank seems to absolutely know who he is in it as he looks back on his ever-growing legacy. "Alexander Palace on the next rise, arms open like an old friend!" 

Cool, that was a fun thing to do on a Sunday morning. Spend time with the tunes if you fancy. I love them.

PLAYLIST HERE: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0i6oHrko00dtNydh9PgQe5?si=Up8j-hP5Tti-OK64tGWa2Q&utm_source=copy-link

 

03/06/2022

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Borrowed Toothpaste Tour Leg One: Medmenham, Pontypool, Yeovil and Ipswich 

As I sit length ways on my sofa, cocooned in my University of Essex hoodie and trying to find ways to apologise to my liver, reflecting on the last four days feels like recounting a weird dream. A flying visit not just into local towns and venues, but into people’s lives. Just me and my bro in a Honda Civic packed from floor to roof with guitars, speakers, merch and gifted energy drinks.  

It started on Thursday 20th January in Medmenham. 

We pulled down the long drive to Iain and Dom’s house with wide eyes taking in the beautiful building. Iain was on the doorstep ready to invite us in. I was nervous about how these shows were going to go. When touring big venues with a touring crew, the uniformity of the experience is habitual and routine. You load in and soundcheck at the same time each day, your dressing room and rider are pretty similar, and you know what to expect from the show. Turning up at a house is completely different. 

Iain showed us where we were going to be performing - a beautiful carpeted living room to the left of the entrance hall. We began to load in. The place was exquisitely decorated, and it was awesome to see  fellow Xtra Mile musician Beans on Toast’s reductionist art alongside what I imagine to be high-end art and sculpture. As Iain’s mother in law turned off the TV and headed to the kitchen to give us space to set up, I was thrown back to childhood when I used to “write” plays for George and my cousins to star in in my Auntie’s living room, or cousin’s bedroom in Rotherham. I looked at George, who, always the professional, was plugging leads into the desk, twiddling knobs and tapping on the end of microphones to ensure they made a sound. This was bizarre, but cool, I thought.  

As I went to set up the merch desk in the hallway, Trevor arrived. I got to know Trevor and Iain when we played Roundhouse in Camden for Lost Evenings, as they had let me and my wife Lorna (and then me and our bassist Rich on the Sunday), crash at their central townhouse Airbnb opposite the venue. It was great to see Trevor again, who’s kind nature and passion for seizing the day had secured him as a firm tour friend from the off. True to form, Trevor had arrived with a crate of lager and a bag of ales to share, ready to start the party.  

Following set-up we were shown to our room - the first of many double beds we would be sharing that weekend. The space had been kindly donated for the night by Iain’s stepdaughter Aaryanna and I was delighted to see a black cat curled up on the bed. 

We joined the family and friends for an Indian takeaway, sat at a long wooden table, which is where I met Iain’s partner Dom, who was incredibly accommodating and excited for the show. I had opted for a prawn vindaloo of which Dom tried a bit of the sauce. It was delicious, and blew both our heads off! 

The crowd that night consisted of a mixture of friends and family and people from the “Fractured Party People” group who had travelled to be there, so it was a great mixture of new people and familiar faces. The show was great fun - our first ever gig in socks! After our set we dived into some beautiful ales and hung out with new and old friends, setting the world to rights. 

One by one people headed home until about midnight when only a core group of us remained. This was when Iain floated the idea (pun absolutely intended) of us all heading to the hot-tub at the bottom of the garden for some beers under the stars. Before he’d even had a chance to finish the sentence George and I were tearing up the stairs into our bedroom to throw on our trunks. 

We were in the hot-tub for about two hours looking up at the twinkling stars on the clearest of nights. Iain kept us well supplied with beers as we talked, drank and lost track of time. It was one of those “peak happiness” moments. 

The next morning George and I sat up in bed, looked at each other and sighed in unison, “We said we weren’t going to go too hard on the first night!” 

We had failed on that account. But we had definitely failed in glorious style! No regrets, you always remember the nights before more than the hangovers anyway. 

A few hours later, crawling down the M4 to Wales, I was starting to think that I would remember the hangover in equal proportion to the night before. As we drove into Wales, everything suddenly became very Welsh, with lots of sheep, slate, hills and windy roads. I got out for a wee and slipped over on probably the most piss-soaked muddy verge in Wales. We got caught in traffic for the last half an hour over a bridge that was so narrow I didn’t even think one could push a skateboard over it. My hill start handbrake action was put to the test as we entered Pontypool. Living in Essex, handbrakes are more decorative than functional on account of everywhere being so flat. 

Our venue for the second gig was “Technically Jess’ House” in Pontypool, named so as at the time of booking Jess hadn’t told her parents that her partner, Gavin, had moved in. I had met Jess and Gavin on a number of occasions at various shows, most recently at the Fractured Party in Colchester, where they had made the trip from Wales to Essex especially to be there. I’m trying with all of my might to not make a lame Gavin and Stacey reference here. 

“We wanted to invite people that haven’t seen you live before,” Jess informed us excitedly, “So we’ve invited loads of our local friends, who are all brilliant musicians!” 

A load of brilliant musicians, you say? Ah, fuck! The best of the Pontypool open mic scene were about to descend into Technically Jess’ house to see me and George, hungover on a few hours sleep, play punk songs on acoustic guitars! We had a couple of “hair of the dog” lagers, set up the PA system and then headed upstairs to steam my vocals and warm up. We were getting ready early that evening as we wanted to make sure we were down in time for the support act - Gavin’s band Oxbowlake. 

As we descended back down the stairs we were greeted by a room full of beaming, chatty people all excited for music to begin. A lady called Claire (with the most amazing rainbow coloured hair), ensured we were constantly supplied with alcohol as we settled in the watch Oxbowlake. 

Who blew us away. 

Oxbowlake are a two-piece acoustic duo who rose from the ashes of a punk band. They consist of Gavin on guitar and vocals and Neil on vocals and dance moves. Gavin had already told me to expect a bundle of energy and charisma in Neil, and I wasn’t disappointed. Neil could exist in any part of history. His long beard and hair could see him fit in as a caveman, a Tudor gent, running a Victorian sideshow or managing a hipster bar in Shoreditch that serves exclusively real ale. In the most fitting of fashion their set started with an acapella tribute to the wonders of beer, followed by a host of incredible folk tunes with brilliant choruses and harmonies, my favourite of which being about people getting abducted by aliens (which explains why you sometimes see random pairs of shoes on the side of the road). 

As we were in a room full of musicians, people weren’t just singing along. They were harmonising beautifully and shaking tambourines and shaky eggs. The atmosphere was incredible! 

Following their set, I instantly offered for Oxbowlake a show with us in Colchester, and we excitedly discussed the possibility of them hiring a minibus to bring the whole Welsh contingency over to Essex. I avoided any Gavin and Stacey references again. I’d never make such a cheap joke. 

Following Oxbowlake I was absolutely pumped to play. Even though most of the audience hadn’t seen us live before, they had fully committed to learning our tunes beforehand and the room was alive with people in “Borrowed Toothpaste Tour” t-shirts dancing and singing at the top of their voices. Our hangovers were but distant memories as the adrenaline and euphoria of such a communal show overcame us 

Following the show we leant out our gear and invited people to get up and sing. The most memorable performance was Jess, our host’s rendition of Maria by Blondie, which was hypnotising. I sat on the stairs, nursing a lager (I was determined not to drink as much as the previous night!) and was absolutely blown away. 

The party moved into the kitchen for pizza, where we all hung out and made loads of new friends. A drunk man proudly showed me a picture of some ribs he had cooked on the barbecue that evening and my brother George found a leg twin in Gavin. George discovered at a photoshoot last Monday that he had bowed legs, to which Gavin excitedly informed him that he did too, to the point that he wouldn’t be able to stop a pig in an alleyway. 

We went to bed exhausted and elated. George laughed at my Corn Flakes pyjamas. We slept well. 

The next day was Saturday, which for George was important, because it’s Derby County day. For those who don’t know (who I presume is most  of the people reading this), Derby County are in a bit of trouble at the moment. Point deductions and other financial stuff means that they might not exist as a club soon. And on Saturday we (I use the term “we” loosely - I can’t name one player any more) were playing our arch rivals Nottingham Forest. 

Following a stellar fry-up courtesy of Gavin we drove from Pontypool to Weston Super Mare, where we found a sports bar. The smell of stale beer, urine and bleach hung in every corner of the dusty bar and despite there only being two pool tables, absolutely everyone seemed to be carrying a pool cue. It was all very testosterone-y. I tried hard to concentrate on the big screen and nurse my one pint of Stella for 90 long minutes. George advised me not to get too excited if we scored. We watched Derby play terribly and lose two-one then headed back to the car to drive to Yeovil, via the Weston Super Mare seafront where I got much more excited about seeing some massive mounds in the sea than I did at any goal scored that day. 

After almost getting stuck in mud from taking a wrong turn, we pulled up to Sarah’s house in Yeovil ready for show number three. Sarah has looked after horses for around 20 years and with the job she got to stay in a beautiful farmhouse the perfect size and shape for holding a gig. The kitchen itself is a great length and width for a shot, and directly to stage left there was a perfect “green room”, along with a sign on the door, roaring fire and a backstage dog. The “stage” area was equipped with lights from Sarah’s friend Mark and something that all stages should have from now on - an on stage beer fridge! 

The merch stand was out the front in the foyer. It was really fun and brilliant how much the space lent itself to being a venue.  

That evening’s set was loud and raucous. People were singing, dancing and chanting from the off, once again dressed in Borrowed Toothpaste tour t-shirts and Fractured Party People hoodies. We used a tour flag that had been made by Emma from Southampton as a backdrop, which had been rapidly gaining messages and pictures at each gig. The set ended with a huge round of Happy Birthday to Trev (from night one back for more!) and Ellie, before we jumped into a final few numbers. 

Following the show Sarah was keeping us well lubricated with black sambuca and beer whilst a load of us sat in a big circle near the fire, lost in conversations about music and life. It had proper late night festival vibes and after a while we were all intoxicated enough to turn on the PA system and invite people to drunkenly sing covers with us like live karaoke. The mic was passed round the room as we collectively beautifully murdering Oasis, Abba and Elvis to name but a few! It was glorious. George and I then decided to play some brand new tunes, terribly, and then sacked that off and smashed out a drunken, ramshackled, heavy version of “Spin-Cycle”, which was equally as chaotic, but with everyone singing along! 

The end of the night was a little hazy and I can’t really remember people leaving. We all ate fish finger sandwiches, drank the last of our beers and headed up. 

We woke up about 11am the next day, greeted by Sarah, who had a friend she wanted to introduce us to. I peeled myself out of bed and opened the door to be greeted by a huge chicken who had just laid eggs for our breakfast! I was hungover, and the weekend had been so bizarre already, that this was accepted in my brain as completely normal, as the four of us - me, George, Sarah and the chicken, all headed downstairs for breakfast together. 

Our last show was in Ipswich, which ended up being a gruelling five hour drive from the West of England to the East. When we arrived at Fanny’s House for Sarah’s birthday we were greeted by our great friend Sanjay who burst into giggles when he was us. “You two looked absolutely fucked!” I laughed hard. He wasn’t wrong. We were fucked, but gloriously so! The thing about playing a house party tour is that every single night you’re at a different house party, so it’d be rude not to go hard, right? 

Sarah, who’s birthday it was, alongside Fanny and many of the others in the room, have been following PET NEEDS for years - way before it was cool to do so, haha. As we were setting up, Sarah stated triumphantly, “It’s my birthday, so you need to play all your old songs as well as your new tunes!” What followed was a hilarious and fun gig among great friends, where we played well-rehearsed new tunes and guessed our way through old numbers, alongside the help of our mates in the room. It was a perfect way to end leg one of the tour, among the people who had been there from day one. 

The star of the show, however, was an incredible PET NEEDS chocolate cake made especially for Sarah’s birthday. I had the world’s biggest slice and ate cake and drank strong coffee as George packed down. What a man! 

I dropped George home and returned to see Lorna, who I’d missed terribly. For once, our two cats actually seemed pleased to see me! We headed to bed to watch Peep Show and had at least one cat on the bed all night. It was great to be home.   

We started booking The Borrowed Toothpaste Tour - A 2-piece DIY acoustic tour - on 6th January, exactly two weeks before the first date. The tour was booked and promoted exclusively by FRACTURED PARTY PEOPLE. I am constantly blown away by the collective force of these heroes who embrace life to the point of going, “sure, absolutely!” as soon as such a unique idea is suggested. A case of lock it in now, work out the details later. 

Especial thanks to the following people for the first leg of the tour: 

Iain and Dom for hosting day 1, for the food, beer and hot tub. 

Trev for the beers, Nick Drake and Nirvana CDs and for partying hard. 

Jess and Gavin for being wonderful hosts. 

Claire (with the hair!) for keeping us well watered. 

Oxbowlake for being outstanding! 

Sarah for being amazing and looking after us so well. 

The chicken for the eggs. 

Mark for supplying some amazing ales. 

Lauren for sending homemade brownies all the way from Sheffield to Yeovil. 

Emma from Southampton for making an amazing tour flag. 

Fanny and Sarah for hosting such a warm and welcoming show. 

Julie for the PET NEEDS cake. 

Adam from Cram Duplication for the posters. 

Evan for the tee design. 

Matt from Actifwear for turning the tees around in record time. 

George for being the best co-musician, brother and friend. 

We’re home now for a couple of days, then are hitting the road for eight shows in eleven days. If the first leg is anything to go by, it’s going to be incredible. 

01/24/2022

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Punk & Thunder.

10/01/2022

Here we go, big news time! The extended version of Fractured Party Music is out this Friday, 14th January, along with a video for the lead single, "Punk isn't Dead (it's just Up for Sale)"!

Single presave: https://orcd.co/punkisntdead

Album presave: https://orcd.co/fpmdeluxeedition

CD physical of four new tracks: https://petneeds.bandcamp.com/.../the-fractured-party-volume-1

Last October we locked ourselves away for two days with the wonderful Sam Duckworth AKA Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly, and Jay Malhotra of Kate Nash and many other great bands.

Walking into a new studio is always a little nerve-wracking, especially one run by such esteemed creatives. The first thing that hit me was the size of the place. This was by far the biggest studio we'd ever been in, with a grand piano as the proud centrepiece in a room floor to ceiling with amps, guitars and all manner of exciting machines.

When Xtra Mile asked us to record four songs for an extended version of Fractured Party Music we replied, without a second's thought, that we wanted to put out a punk EP. To revisit and re-record a couple of our oldest tunes and to rearrange some of our Fractured Party songs with explosive energy. We wanted the recording process to be fast-paced and focused, and the EPs to be released in DIY cardboard sleeves, just like we used to.

Recording was just that. The energy swelled and soared as Sam and Jay bounced off each other, taking it in turns to take the reins at the desk. Their direction was simple: "Do your thing. You know how to do it. Do it with passion!", as we thrashed through tunes that had become old friends and touring buddies on hundreds of stages.

Things were going well until the storm hit. No metaphor.

At about 6pm on the second day a storm - big enough to have it's own name - battered down on the studio and into the sunken forecourt outside. The water in the forecourt started to rise at an alarming rate as we spent the next couple of hours desperately filling up bins and buckets and running them down to the end of the drive, only to return to find it slightly deeper each time. Our clothes were soaked and our feet were bruised. It was proper action movie stuff.

Sam put a call out to local friends and soon there was a mini army of people all running, dragging and pouring as the rain thundered with relentless force. After what seemed like a lifetime, the water subsided. Luckily, nothing was damaged.

We returned to the main room in the early hours of the morning, drenched and exhausted. As I flopped onto the sofa, Sam sat down at his desk, turned to us and said, "Right, Tracey Emin's Bed?"

What followed was a one-take, drunken, euphoric acoustic version of one of our favourite tunes. We were together, brothers and best mates, having literally just battled a storm together.

It was amazing to revisit old songs and rearrange Fractured Party Music songs in a true thunderous whirlwind of a recording session.

It felt punk. And the results are frantic!

In December, the day after we lost the tour we were set to record a music video for the lead single, "Punk isn't Dead (It's Just up for Sale)". We had a choice: either sit around moping or be proactive. To be creative together was the best medicine, and the tongue-in-cheek video about how to make money as a band suddenly became more poignant. This video, as always, is a result of us taking a modest budget and pulling a million favours to source locations, actors and props to create something cinematic and bigger than the sum of its parts. It was a ridiculous, tipsy, incredible day!

We're so excited to share with you the extended version of Fractured Party Music. You can pre-save "Punk isn't Dead..." now, so go do that! Massive love to Sam and Jay for the EP and Robert Watts for the video, and to Xtra Mile for their continued support and always allowing us complete creative control. Legends!

A New Job.

06/11/2021

On Thursday night I blinked back tears as I absorbed the thousand of phone lights twinkling in the crowd like stars in the sky.

Thursday was the last major event we were putting on at work before I step down to become a professional musician. 

Head back to January 2019 and I'm walking through the woods with George, both wrapped in big coats with chilly hands poking through padded sleeves, loosely gripping cold cans of Polish lager. We're reflecting on a run of awful January gigs.

"Last year for me, this, genuinely", I sigh. "I get more from work than I do playing Cambridge to eight people on a Tuesday."

A year or so previously I'd talked my way into a job putting on big events at a Students' Union. As time went on I began to get more from work in terms of creative accomplishment than I did from the band. There were so many parallels - the opportunity to be innovative and excited about ideas, work as a team to build something huge then DELIVER. And to be honest, putting on parties for thousands of people was scratching the itch more than gigging to a handful of disinterested punters who weren't expecting music on a Tuesday.

George didn't believe me for a second. 

"So, then what? I do a different band and you do... Spoken work? Acoustic stuff?"

"I'll just do events."

"So, how will you perform?"

"I won't. I'll do events."

George couldn't envisage a world where he and I weren't performing in some way. I thought at the time that I didn't need to. Turns out George was right all along. 

When lockdown happened we were both furloughed and all gigs were cancelled. Suddenly, without anything in the diary, we were both absolutely lost. Over a decade of gigging in countless bands together and apart - who were we if not creatives? And how could we be creative without performance?

The sheer panic of losing time drove us to throw every penny of our minimal band fund and every waking moment of our furloughed existence into writing and recording an album called Fractured Party Music. 

Fast forward 18 months to last Thursday's Fireworks Night at Essex Students' Union. I'm exhausted, freezing and accomplished. I used to think that putting on events gave you the same feeling as gigging, but have since realised there is a stark difference. Thursday wasn't about me. It was about an incredible team pulling together to create something bigger than the sum of its parts. It's awesome, overwhelming and something I'm massively proud to be a part of. But it's definitely different. 

Essex SU has been the making of me. I'm much more confident in who I am and the person I aspire to be. And y'know what? It's weird leaving a job I'm not ready to leave.

But I am leaving. At Christmas. To be a musician.

This is incredibly exciting and absolutely terrifying at the same time. We're aiming to fund our whole lives by selling records and t-shirts at shows! Suddenly our sales pitch isn't saying, "by buying a t-shirt you're putting fuel in the van", more so, "by buying a t-shirt you're paying our rent. Thank you so, SO much."

We're ready to be cash poor and experience rich and are going to do all we can to make this work. It's absolutely a risk. But we'd rather try and see what happens then never try at all.

I'm now off work for three weeks, in which we record album 2. Then I'm back for three weeks. Then I'm off to do music. I'm trying to wangle a deal that if I need cash between tours they will allow me back to do something, anything for a few weeks. We'll see if that happens or indeed if I'll need it.

Either way, 2022 is a tangent in our lives we were never expecting. And we're so ready.

Preparing for Tour: Our First Dry Gig.

31/10/2021 Washing Machine 10th Birthday Bonanza

It was our first "dry" gig yesterday.

Not a drop of alcohol between us.

Usually we have a "driving levels" rule: you can have *one* drink before you go on, then hit the beers afterwards. I sometimes push this a little further than the other lads and have a sneaky second can as I'm warming up. Maybe even a third to walk on with. It adds up.

The problem ("problem". Jesus, listen to me) is that as the band has grown in size, free alcohol is everywhere. As soon as we rock up to the dressing room there's a crate of lager and a bottle of spirit, along with, at our request, salt and vinegar crisps and "healthy vegetarian food", so we can kid ourselves that we're in some way health conscious despite the units we are about to consume.

I don't think a little beer before stage massively impacts our performance on the first night. If anything I feel looser. It definitely impacts the second night, though, as I spend all day warming up, drinking ginger tea and downing water, trying to free my voice from the hoarse shackels of a hangover and shake the foggy pressure surrounding my head.

We can get through a second gig after a night on the beers. But is "getting through" really what we're aiming for?

We're leaving work at Christmas to do music full time, starting with 28 dates round the UK with Frank Turner. In stark contrast to the rock n roll fantasy, hitting the beers every night is going to screw us up, physically and mentally.

If we have a "rest day" the next day, then sure. We will have four days of riders saved up! But if we don't, we need to make a plan.

So, yesterday at The Hunter Club in Bury St. Edmunds, we road-tested our first "dry gig".

Wandering round the venue, bumping into old friends and catching new bands (side note - @fleasband, who are playing with us next Saturday, are incredible), I didn't massively fancy a pint. I could smell it everywhere, and if I was there as a punter my first thought would be to hit the bar. But I was here for a purpose and I'm very used to not drinking at this stage of the day.

Warming up was interesting, especially because we were sharing a dressing room with Fightmilk who were mid way through throwing on their Addams Family costumes. When the nights get a little weirder, it's always fun to crack a can and watch the chaos unfold, or even better, be spearheading said chaos. Without a drink I was broadly fine, sharing stories with the other bands between straw phonation and tongue stretches (always an awkward first encounter when you can't properly speak as a result of warming up, but important!)

My big challenge was how to get the pre-gig adrenaline pumping. Our dressing room was an office with a very low ceiling, so star jumps were out of the question. As it happened, our stage was running late by about half an hour, so we had to do the world's quickest changeover. Literally ten minutes, including building a full drum kit. As we frantically rushed amps on stage, threw cymbals to Jack and ran around looking for the set lists my heart started pumping; I started to sweat. And I began to giggle at the panic in the rest of the band.

We had no soundcheck. No time. God, this felt like the old days.

We tore into our set in a little room in front of a handful of dedicated people. We were headlining the small room that had been pretty quiet all day. In this venue, the default is for people to stay in the main room, which meant everyone watching us had made a conscious choice to be there.

The stage was tiny. So small that Jack was sitting at the front and the back of it simultaneously. The sound was challenging for first couple of songs. But, y'know what? It felt kind of punk and nostalgic. I'd missed it.

It was weird, initially, standing there sober whilst throwing my mic stand about and dancing like an idiot, on the floor with the rest of the band on the stage. Usually at a gig this size I would have had a couple more beers to lose myself in the music a little more. As the set went on I grew in confidence, especially when introducing new tunes. I remembered to sing properly, too! All the tricks I had been learning in lessons were consciously applied and even standing on the floor without monitors, I felt confident. Strong.

We quickly became best friends with the people in the room and albeit the quietest gig numbers-wise we've played all year, the energy was high. It felt like a house show.

The set finished with it's usually recipe of chaos, then it was merch time. I enjoyed catching up with a family who had first seen us on a big stage in Margate and a group of friends who had made the round trip from Brighton just for the show. Usually I'd be diving head first into the rider now to celebrate, or doing shots at the bar with our new friends. However, it wasn't massively missed; I was engrossed in conversation on the merch desk.

About 30 minutes later we started packing up. It all felt weirdly civil. As we stood outside our packed cars completing our stock check, we congratulated each other on a good show. It felt like we were one step away from shaking hands! As Rich said post-gig: "So, what are we meant to do now? Talk to each other?!"

Jack and I headed home to the soundtrack of the new Dream Theatre album. As I walked (without stumbling) down the alley to my house and unlocked the door (without one eye closed), I felt at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. I fed the cat. Looked for some food. Found an alcohol-free beer in the fridge, then headed to bed and put on a podcast.

It took a while to get to sleep, but I did. And here I am now, Sunday morning, fresh with decent(ish!) mental health, ready for the day. I could definitely gig again tonight.

Moral of the story? I love drinking and the chaos it brings. I WILL drink on tour when we have a day off the next day. But I can gig dry. WE can gig dry. And, in my opinion, we were all the better for it.

Cheers to the Washing Machine team for having us back and to those who partied with us. What great fun. Steamboat Ipswich next week!

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