We've taken to late practices, lately. Brighton Electric practice studios has a certain desert island quality about it between the hours of 22:00 and 00:00. Inside, people are making noise, be it us working on big loud new material - experimenting with eyelid flapping synth assaults - or the Smiths covers band in the room next to us solemnly knocking out the same song fifty times in a row. Outside, all is deathly quiet. The main road that sits beside the studio is deserted, and only the layabouts and drug dealers of Brighton are stalking the park opposite, wandering if perhaps those blatant waste-brains over there will pop over for some sub-standard crack and a quick mugging. Please, please don't hurt me. Just take Seryn and leave us alone. Please.
So we've been working super hard into the night on new material again. It's taking shape - turning into Phoria stuff. It's definitely a balancing act bringing these songs out of the writing room and into a band situation. Things have to be cut, new possibilities arise... It's tricky. It's fun.
Trewin is still suffering. Numerous trips to the doctor's, a clown's pocket worth of scarfs wrapped around his neck, nothing but tap water, I think. That's rough. We're trying so hard to come up with some workable contingency for live shows, something that will cover us in the future that still sounds like us. We tried one, but we're not sure it worked - Trewin's disembodied voice floating around The Blind Tiger club. It was weird for us, and it was weird for the audience. It was a bit like having God on vocals, but with a marginally greater allowance for anything resembling negative criticism.
We really don't want to let anyone down anymore. We're really sorry to those who have been disappointed by some of our cancellations, and just as sorry to those whom we may yet let down in the future. What am I saying? What's my problem? I get to stay at home and watch CYE for the hundredth time. What's the problem with that? What's the deal?
He giveth with one hand...
So, there we are. I can't comment on any forthcoming performances, as we're doused in the urine of uncertainty. We try and give everyone notice, but we're also so desperate to play all these gigs that we don't want to cancel until it gets to the stage that we definitely can't play it. Sometimes that's late. Nous regrettons. We should be about very very soon, though.
Today it's another interview. We've done about a million since we started exaggerating about our workload. Trewin won't be there. Something about his voice. I dunno.
Who cares?
Tim
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