This speaker needs more...

...knives.

Sunday service.

Jeb is asleep in the van. I am half asleep in the van. Seryn is silent in the corner of the van. Trewin and Ed are giggling about wee. In the van.

We're on our way to 'London world of Olympic adventures TM' to play at and support the International Youth Arts Festival.

We left at 9am. Today. Sunday.

Now, there are various rules surrounding the sleep patterns of 'musicians'. These are the same rules commonly adhered to by Philosophy undergraduates and those the KJB would describe as 'the wretched'.

These rules do not, as you may have assumed, involve what is happening right now, which is being awake.

And so, with a tired spirit, pure and without the prop of brown drinky or papery leafy lovely stimulants, we shall crawl with grazed knees to deliver our sermon.

'...and lo, they did fall asleep on stage, though the charity and art and things were pretty good and worthwhile until then.'

That's the best I can do, for now. Still...paints a picture, yeah?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

My face.

I'm spending my time this morning trying to look past Bill Turnbull's Debenham's suit to see Phoria appear on BBC news. My face is going to appear on national television. Think about that. Think about how deep the recession must have hit for the yellowing hole in my face to be allowed to flap around on the BBC.

The interview itself went very smoothly (thanks solely to the professionalism of the team filming us) but was incredibly stressful. So much so that I've only just built up the strength to write about it.

'What's that?'
'Oh that's just a glistening, soulless black mouth that eats time and light. We'll just point it at your face.'

It's a big leap from stalking the streets shouting at parked cars to suddenly being asked to give the country a succinct account of why you moved to Brighton (Trewin), what's the deal with all these projections? (Jeb), and what do you think about the cultural side of the Olympics? (Me). It was difficult, dry-mouthed, but still friendly and fun. The team dealt well with the three stuttering radio faces they'd been lumbered with.

We were told it would be broadcast this morning, hence my early hours being spent with the eerily cheerful BBC breakfast news team. Frankly I don't need this first thing in the morning; I need a reflection of me, not a denial of it. I need to see someone sprawling awkwardly across a grubby sofa, hacking and groaning and shielding their eyes from the horror of it all. The horror.

So now, the morning line already having ran, I'll be glued to News24, waiting to catch a glimpse of the horror of it all. The horror.

(Don't forget- FREE gig at The Green Door Store in Brighton this friday! Get down here!)

Tim.
(As seen on TV)

Beebie jeebies.

We're being filmed by BBC World today as part of their Olympic coverage; they're going to be asking us about the work we've been doing towards the ICCI 360 event in Weymouth. We're also being visited by the good people of Brighton Noise who are going to be covering the BBC's coverage.

That's all fine - Jeb can answer any questions about the videos and music or band or whatever. I trust him.

What I need to know is: which conditioner is going to give my hair the right shine to compliment my crushed velvet armbands?

As if I didn't have enough to think about!

Tim

NB. I don't mind saying that I actually find this whole television interview thing quite nerve wracking and that sometimes, when nervous, I make silly jokes. There's one above (you remember, the one about Jeb being able to answer simple questions) that I'm not going to point out to you...but then there are two other hilarious gags right there, neatly hidden inside my exposition of another joke.

So, yes...if over the next few hours you see me making any silly jokes (above), it's just nerves, so you would be well advised to ignore absolutely everything I have to say on any subject.

Oh lord.

The television are coming.

Close that door!

We come and go. Think of it like an oven - if you keep opening the door to check if your meal is done, it'll never get cooked.

So every now and then we just pop the little light on for you folks and let you know if our cheese has nicely browned.

Right now there's a small gathering in Trewin's attic, appraising his latest 'work'. We like it alot. Needless to say it's thrown the EP plans into disarray - what do we leave out now? What do we protect you from? How much more bass guitar does it all need (lots)?

These are the questions that we face.

'Rest, Neo; the answers are coming.'

They're not, though, are they, Morpheus? Your bad sequels confirmed that for us.

And so we remain quagmired in quandry.

We'll listen again. And again. We'll find our favorites, don't worry. Seriously, calm down. Come on. Don't cry! Please! If you do then we will! Oh no.

So yeah, we'll sort it out and see you on 7th July at The Haunt in Brighton, supporting Active Child. Get in touch or check facebook for discounted tickets.

I'm turning the light off, now, mother.

Tim