Blurred works.

It's difficult to know where to start, to be honest. Not only because my brain feels like the contents of a baked bean can (i.e. Horse meat), but also because so much has happened in the last few days alone that I don't know how to finish this sentence and it's only through sheer luck that it even started correctly.

You've seen our Kickstarter stuff, right? 'Ah,' you say, 'that's what all that puppet stuff was about!' Yes. Yes it was. Are you happy now? Now that you know? I hope so. Otherwise this whole thing could become a bit awkward. Still, we hope you like the little film we made. The puppet of Jeb is my personal favourite. The puppet of Jeb is everyone's personal favourite.

The single off the Bloodworks EP, 'Red', has been featured on the Brighton promoter One Inch Badge's 'SeaMonsters' compilation. The whole album sounds great, and shows what a great scene we have in this city. We're really proud to be a part of it, and equally as proud to see what a splash 'Red' is making. Do you get it? 'Splash'? 'SEAmonsters'. Yes! That's right! Because most monsters like the 1984 Tom Hanks film 'Splash'!

Obviously the biggest hangover of all is from our trip to Abbey Road, which was very special, but that's all I can say for now. (Note: My car door decided to break at the end of that perfect day, and I can't stop whining about it so I may as well do it here too. Jeb did a good job of holding the portal to tarmac-face-sanding-world closed throughout our journey, his aching arms ably assisted by a tired Trewin on the back seat instructing him to 'Pull it tighter! It's cold! I'm cold! Pull the door tighter!' Trewin shouldn't have been surprised to hear Jeb's sombre reply of 'I can't. The door is broken.')

The sudden freight train of fatigue is not so much from 'Crabby Toad day' itself, but more from coming to the end of the long journey that led here: the gates of Bloodworks-ville. It feels like we can pack it up now and pop it in a suitcase; just carry it with us for the time being, occasionally opening it to remember that: Oh yeah! We did that! Line-up changes, tracklist changes, the struggle to get the right take for the right song, the good gigs, the...other gigs, the people who came and went, the deadlines that came and went, the loss of sanity, the despair, the little wooden bear, the lost, forgotten Iveco van, my Snickers bar that melted, that time I 'lost' my trousers... It can all be packed up, now, and carried with us as we spend a little time in the town, soaking up the atmosphere we created.

That's all I can think of for now, but there's loads more for another day.

I'm off to the bar.

Tim

P.S. Of course I'll give you another Kickstarter link, but ALSO I'll remind you that we're on at The Prince Albert in Brighton tonight with Ed Prosek and The Physics House Band, both of whom are great. It's part of OIB's SeaMonsters festival. Last I heard, tickets were selling fast, but, if you do make it, be sure to give us a WAVE. Do you get it? Do you...?

Everything's all white.

First of all - apologies for my recent outburst of enthusiasm re: that rubbish white stuff that's been falling on our roads and roofs all week. It was unprofessional, ill considered, and am told provoked smiles in some parts of the UK. This has never been my intention.

As punishment, I'm in Ed's basement flat on the other side of Brighton, stealing a little heat from his tiny halogen heater and emailing lots and lots of lovely friendly people who are definitely going to give us gigs, right? Right? I mean, I'm not just here with frozen fingertips and a cold cup of tea, sneezing from some feather pillow Ed's got stuffed behind some wall cavity (I've scoured the entire flat for every alternative) for nothing, am I? Am I? No? No. (Yes). No. I've watched Wayne's World 2 enough times to know that gigs can be organised by even the most cloth-headed of bumbling long-hairs using the power of: magic. So all I have to do now is just use magic.

The band have been sending messages back and forth to each other all morning about ABBEY ROAD tomorrow. All I can say is that I haven't been this excited since I realised I could use magic to book gigs, and that was about 14 seconds ago, so you can imagine how excited I was then, and am now, and will continue to be, forever. It's so damn cool that we're heading up there to put the polish on our first single Red. Trewin in particular has worked harder than a student's kettle on recording and mixing this thing and it's going to be great to get it finished at one of the most renowned studios in the world, then release it through Akira Records this year.

A couple of interesting newsy and clicky and fun things will be coming your way very soon, but not yet (hence 'soon') so I'll just whet your voracious appetites with this very sentence. Look back over it should you wish to read it again.

Don't forget, you can catch us this Saturday 26/1/13 at The Prince Albert as part of One Inch Badge's Sea Monsters festival. We'll be playing alongside The Physics House Band and Ed Prosek. Here's the compilation album, of which we're proud to be a part.

Life is one long stream of fun.

Tim

Snow.

IT'S SNOWING EVERYONE, IT'S SNOWING EVERYONE GET OUTSIDE AND PLAY IN THE SNOW WHILE IT'S SNOWING. We'll be inside, working, emailing, sorting stuff for Abbey Road and then our awesome SeaMonsters gig on 26th Jan. BUT AFTER THAT WE WILL COME AND PLAY IN THE SNOW WITH YOU! I hope you all listened to the useful television news advice that amounted to 'build a snowproof laser defence system around your house and loved ones, if you can afford it. If not, wear a coat.' We did. The house looks like a Pink Floyd concert.
BUT WITH MORE SNOW THAN A PINK FLOYD CONCERT WHICH AS STANDARD EMPLOYS LITTLE OR NO SNOW.

Gigs, EP, snow.

What more could you want?

MORE SNOW.

Tim. (SNOW

Read the blog post below.

The puppet thing is almost done, just so you know. Hopefully the grace and beauty inherent in true destruction will shine out above the mangled car crash of media, so it'll actually be something enjoyable. That'd be nice.

'OK, you've mentioned these puppets several times now, but we still don't know what in the heck is going on with them and we've got enough to think about as it is. Can't you just tell us what's going on, if only for the sake of the moonlit night, whose sweet cerebral pageantry we daily entreat to envelope and discard our waking worry, but, without puppety explaination, rests dolefully upon its ancient haunches, never finding calm and still sea of mind on which to skim its precious stones?'

No.

Right, so, yesterday we spent the day working on NEW SONGS. That's good, ain't it? We took the big 'live room' at Brighton Electric practice studios, and filled the thing with brand spanking new big glorious sidechain compressory catchy beaty melodious symphonionicity. Refreshing. I played the egg-shaker, for a bit.

Our manager, Ciara, was doing a 'meetings in Lundun' yesterday, whatever that means, and apparently there's loads of stuff to talk about now concerning 'the band's future', whatever that means.

I'm not sure what everyone else is hoping for, but so long as we concentrate on puppet shows and light percussion, I think we'll be alright. Play to your strengths, I always say, in self-reflexive reference to my skills at spouting hogwash.

It's friday (it's imperative that you get down on friday), so whatever you're up to (blocking out all natural light and repeatedly refreshing the Phoria facebook feed, I assume), do have fun, and remember, you don't have to click refresh - just hit F5 (which stands for FUN 5). You're welcome.

Tim

With strings attached.

That title is about our spending yesterday doing more work on the puppet thing that I mentioned a couple of blog posts ago. We haven't made proper marionettes with strings or anything (a couple of pics of our creations have surfaced, like dead fish, on facebook and other sites, should you wish to view), but it's the best pun I could come up with right now. I'd say I've been awake for...seven minutes.

The 'string' that was 'attached' (but not really, as already mentioned) was the need to learn the skill of voice acting in under 30 seconds as we recorded the audio for our doppelgangers' demonic dance. I'll allow you a guess as to who landed the plum role of 'narrator guy'. Did you get it? It was me. If you didn't get it, have another guess. There. Is everyone on board?
So last night (friday night) - friday night - the night when most super-cool band people are gigging around town leaving a tangible trail of envy in their wake, or hanging around in bars looking to 'pick up a blinder', as I once overheard (which I assume has something to do with window fitments, a subject concerning which I have on more than one occasion been left in the dark (again I emphasise that my nightly dreams have not yet entirely ceased)), WE, keen artists as we are, spent the wee hours, and the small hours and the medium hours crouched in Trewin's attic, shovelling words into a mic and trying not to laugh at one another. This was a task, it seems, that became all too difficult when I, the anti-Stakhanov, was handed the spade. We got to the point where I had to imagine I was trying to convey a complex message to a baby in a crib on the verge of sleep, just so as not to revert to my brash 'sports reporter' voice.
We're back over there in an hour or so to finish the filming and voices, though I passed through my own door barely six of those all-too-short rotations ago.
Because of this, there's not going to be any fancy ending to this entry, no wrapping up of events, no apologies for the 'blinders' joke, or the horrible reference to obscure Soviet propaganda. Not even my name, a P.S., or a full stop