Breathe Deep, Seek Peace...

So Tom came round my house today. He's now gone. We watched Grave of the Fireflies, drank cider and soup, and we put a LOT of music on his swish new external hard drive (though not quite as swish as yours Jimmy T).

Perhaps the best development of this visit was a new song! "Woohoo!", I hear you cry! It was born from something Tom had been playing around with for a while- he had a few lyrics and a melody, and a few riffs. I wrote something for the 'chorus' which is intended to be quite laid back, with Anna and Greg also singing the main vox part, and a glockenspiel following the melody too. It's a banjo/mandolin/accordion/melodica/trumpet friendly song, I think- Tom's probably got some ideas too- so he should bloody hurry up and post a blog! There is another bit at the end of the track which we didn't record- in a slightly differing rhythm- building and building into a sheer precipice of noise which all begins with a bit of humming and scatting (ha!).

So anyway, without further ado, here it is. I don't know what Tom's lyrics are- so I'm sure he'll post them at some point. The part that I sing goes:

Although it's impossible that I could be so blind, you'll just have to try me.

You should take this as a sign; you'll just have to trust me that I can be happy.

A Strange Sign of Life

Haste Me Back.

Well hello all. I thought it was about darn well time that I yanked my head out of the sandy pretence that I ain't going to Spain (mainly because I'm already here) and wrote summink in this 'ere bloggy spot.

It is rather hard to believe I have been in Madrid for two weeks already, although I am certainly beginning to settle in.

My Ukulele and I have been trotting about on the Madrid metro, gracing Spanish families with our presence and the dulcet tones of Incy Wincy Spider and Row, Row, Row Your Boat as language-learning devices.

My room is, as expected, a box. There is just about space for me to flail my arms around and goodness only knows that is important. That which it lacks in size it does NOT make up for in beauty. My window looks directly out onto a functioning lift-shaft, into which other inhabitants smoke. It is therefore best to keep it well and truly closed. The notions of natural light and fresh air are somewhat lost on this particular window.

However, I must not complain. I am ludicrously central which means almost all interesting things are walkable and my flatmates are lovely. There is so much to do in Madrid that I'll be amazed if 5 months will suffice.
Ah...and here is a picture of my local post office. No jokes.

Whilst my Spanish is still appalling, I am managing to avoid the initial cultural faux pas which monopolised my first few days here. Never again will I give my land lady a full-on hug when she is simply reaching behind me in an attempt to switch on a light. Lawks.

Well, as the time here reaches 3:30 in the morn I feel I have rambled on about very little for long enough and so I shall retreat. News of successful gigs in Inglaterra and samples of potential new songs are like honey to my Spanish ears. Keep 'em coming I say.

I leave you with one assertion: I AM LITERALLY SO EXCITED ABOUT COMING BACK FOR THE WHY GIG.
Haste ME back I say. Haste me back.
That is all for now.
Hasta luego peeps.

down and out in oxford and london

last night was a night of house parties for two members of we aeronauts. one managed to return home safely, though cautiously, cycling through a thick blanket of fog in the early hours. one encountered people he vaguely knew, and lost his wallet on that most noble of transport networks, the london night bus system before arriving home at half past eight, an hour before his alarm went off. the likelihood of his wallet being in lost property on monday is as close to nil as you can get- but not quite nil. anyway, the first one was me, and the second one was tom. he ended up at a party with keir in a warehouse in london. i woke this morning in a smoke-fuddled haze to this equation based text message:

"james cunning= tom, keir agnes/luke jones. in a warehouse. Yes yes yes."

maths was never my strong point, but from my limited knowledge i'd hazard that tom, keir and agnes divided by luke jones equals me. sounds about right i guess, but it really is only keir that can make that assumption, i trust him. anyway, at the current time keir was unavailable for comment. his press office shrugged me off. i have however been in contact with tom- who can't remember anything. other than that he lost the aformentioned wallet. and then was 4 hours late for a we aeronauts practice. and then his bass literally broke. and then he had to go back to london. he really didn't have the best sunday. we had a good bit of football after practice, but the next time i spoke to tom he was on the bus, and had been rudely awakened by me telling him marble arch was the best stop for him. i'm willing to bet he slept straight through marble arch.

Anyway, here's how tom looked on friday:

And here's how he was last night/today (artists impression):

so tom, wherever you are, god bless, and good luck looking for your wallet. cancel your cards you berk!

Monochrome for Heaven

Hi Folks.

Last weekend we had our first proper practice with Tim and Ric- and we tried to write something new. It didn't work particularly well- we spent too much time trying to shoe-horn bits together and force things to happen. The most successful new thing from the session was a 20 minute psychedelic wig-out we had when James T and Tom went to get some food, and even that ended up causing problems for Zuber's Memory Man pedal because we quite literally overloaded it. It literally couldn't handle the classic shoegaze riffage it was being subjected to. Apprently it is ok now though, so never fear, Zuberbuhler fans.

Anyway, on the Saturday night Zoobs, Tom and myself took it upon ourselves to go and get drunk. We first went to Far from the madding crowd and had a few beers, then onto Frevd- a converted church in Jericho:



After drinking bottles of wine, we decided that we should look for somewhere else to get even further drunk. Unfortunately we failed to take into account the fact that it was about 3AM, and Oxford isn't London, or even Brighton. Oxford effectively shuts down at 2AM, so after waking Guy up to see if he was out, and having a mind-boggling conversation with Woody (who was at a party in Cornwall), we called it a night and walked back to Botley.

The reason I mentioned this night is because on the way from Jericho back into town, we were discussing new We Aeronauts things and Tom remembered he had a (very crudely recorded) demo of a new track on his phone. It was from an Accordion tune I'd been playing around with for a while. Zuberbuhler was particularly taken with it, and Tom had recorded it when him and Greg had come to my house after the Brainlove Brighton all-dayer. So, as we huddled with drunken tense excitement in an empty doorway to listen properly to the track, we turned our backs to the street so as not to let the sound escape. After a couple of minutes we turned, a new sense of possibility echoing around our ears- a possible new song, that I at least had forgotten about. Our positive mindset was shattered immediately as we turned to see that, unbeknownst to us, a police car had pulled up just behind us as we huddled in the doorway and its occupants were now taking part in a staring match with three members of We Aeronauts. We must have looked pretty dodgy, with our big coats in a doorway at 2AM. Anyway, they sped off fairly sharpish.

The next morning I'd forgotten all about it again, and did until last night, when I got my Accordion out for a play and remembered the tune. In short, I wrote a song. It's not finished- I'm sure Greg will be able to offer some counsel on it. It's sort of a retrospective version of Chalon Valley House Band I guess, a romanticized version of the things we got up to- grouped with memories I have from summers past and cycling around Oxfordshire with Steve, and a foggy realisation of reality.

I recorded it all on Accordion in one take- so the timing is pretty shoddy, but hopefully you'll get a picture. I am perfectly aware that some of the vocals are wack- but I couldn't be arsed to change it again. It took me a fairly long time to mix to a point I was even slightly happy with it- Accordions aren't very easy to record well with a vocal mic. All I can say is that it gets better and more sure of itself as the song goes on- so give it a chance.

I should point out that the results of this are far more Daniel Johnston than Micah P. Hinson, so don't be too harsh. The recording/playing is shit, I assure you- but hopefully the 'song' itself is enjoyable- or will be when you lot have worked your magic.

Winter at the Delifruits Interchange (Demo)-
http://www.mediafire.com/?l5wylgztu2i


It seemed like those days would never end- well, in fact they have come to a close my friends. It’s the four corners of the earth we now populate; a far cry from those days down by the lake. Though the distance is great, you’re not so far from that night we spent singing beneath the stars, and when the road burnt our feet as we soaked in rays, moving only for cars and dodging drops of rain.

…and we would always drink too much
…and our sum was more than enough
…and though sometimes things got tough
I never tired of you at all…

Been going in circles for the past four years, turns out I was never away from memories. The city was always at my back, just like a tightly coiled spring waiting to lay me out flat. Two wheels that remind me of a simpler time, when I could just watch the days float by; And the week we spend climbing on melting roads and descents through rain that soaked our clothes.

…and now we’ll write under winter stars
…warmed by the headlights of passing cars
…while our breath cuts through the air
…we’ll forget the warmth of our beds
…and only after a few bottles of wine
…will we notice how the time flew by..
…only when the dawn it splits the sky…

Will we resign ourselves to sleep…

…and we’ll be driving through the night
…right through the evening's ailing light
…we’ll clamber over the dry river bed
…and we will climb to the valleys edge
…and though the rapeseed fields are gone
…it’s barren earth we’ll walk upon
…and now we look down from so high

We’ll have to catch another flight…