Kickstarter, Amazing Radio, Flu, and an Advent Calendar.

I'm here, isolated, away from the band, away from broad-bean internet, and stuck, immovable, in bed with yet another bout of a particularly icky strain of influenza.

Day 4: The carpet refuses to sing.

From my disadvantage point, then, it's both pleasing and easy to get excited about all the stuff that's happening while doing relatively little of the work involved. I wouldn't have it this way, despite public conception of me as lazy or whatever, but, alas, this is the way it must be. Hold on while I just snuggle deeper into my quilt and quietly sip my tea.

Here is a link to amazing radio, who are currently running a poll to see who gets on their playlist. This wouldn't be a Phoria™ post without asking you to do something now, would it? Click. Vote. Reward: Slice of cake; sense of wellbeing.

Red will be played on their show today.

We're also putting a little bit of stuff up on the Soundcloud, a few jingles here and there, a few jongles fere and ghere, and all-together splitting the atom in the lead up to the Bloodworks release - no longer 8/4/13, but about one month from now, 29/4. We're sorry about that one, folks. Truly. It was unavoidable. What it does mean, though, is that rather than a Christmas day of 8th April, where you gorge yourself on Phoria until your belt bursts and your intestines just explode everywhere and kind of sop out the candles that everyone was enjoying and put that away and go to bed. And leave your teddy-bear somewhere where I can see it...

Instead of that you get a kind of exciting Phoria advent calendar. I envision it as a giant picture of my face, each adolescent blemish providing a doorway to a delicious treat of one type or another.

'Mummy! Mummy! What will Phoria give to us today?!'
'Well, my child - just open up one of Tim's facial wounds and find out! Wear your protective kevlar mask!'

That's just my vision of it all. The powers that be insisted we go through the more traditional YouTube, facebook, online media channels, etc.

Anyway - it's all done (the final master was delivered this morning), it's all coming out, it's all ready to be fired into your skulls using computer guns...

...and (FADE IN: Bryan Adams) we couldn't have done it without everyone's support, particularly through the Kickstarter campaign, which ends today, and which has exceeded our goal and our honest expectations and even Seryn's dreams.

I'm not often honest (that's a lie), but I tell the truth when I say...

...I'm off to Mexico.

Srsly.

Tim.

P.S. Actually actually thank you all very much for your support. It means a lot, and we all really appreciate it.

P.P.S. At time of posting this came up! Something I meant to mention, but didn't. Imagine me on one knee, begging forgiveness. That's what I'm doing right now. Cool though, eh?

The Master.

We do what The Master tells us we must. When The Master is speaking, all doors are closed and conversation dies. The Master promises greatness. We must obey the aural whim of The Master.

We're making a few tweaks to the latest master of Bloodworks. Unfortunately this fact, along with one or two other spanners in the toilet, means we're pushing the official release date back by about two weeks. Take that look of shock and utter disbelief off your face - those of you who have been with us from the start should know better by now. Those of you who are new: Welcome. This is how it is. Ask the older kids for advice.

Still, the tracks should shortly be returning to our Soundcloud (not too sure when, but very soon), all fresh and sexy sounding. It's difficult to link to Soundcloud on a phone, so google it (exactly why is it not in your bookmarks?) then click and share our Kickstarter, which, and do not ask why, is very easy for me to link to. Why, it's so easy, you could even link it to your friends and family! Easy, convenient, affordable, fun for adults and children alike! Get yours now!

What have we been up to? We spent last Saturday in a warehouse with a very brave model, a thermometer reading that merited a concerned phone call from Pingu (though I think he was just trying to get in on the act - he hasn't had any TV work for years. I hear he was trying to avoid being typecast.), and a very powerful pressure washer. Red music video. That was fun. Ed and I were in charge of the ambient music. My favoured track? Travis's Why does it always rain on me?

From that day on, then, it's been a mixture of blind panic and editing. Trewin and Jeb are taking our other model, Gab, down to some seaside location today to get a couple more shots and we're practicing tonight in prep for our Wednesday gig at The Old Queen's Head in Lundun on Wednesday at The Old Queen's Head in Lundun (Phoria gig, Lundun, T.O.Q.H) at The Old Queen's Head. We've also been liaising with some great visual artists with whom we'll be collaborating at next month's SoundScreen festival at Brighton Dome studio. Should be a larf. It all looks very promising indeed.

That's Munday, then. Newsy. No jokes. Goodbye.

Tim 

P.S. Please do what The Master says, and spread it around again. We need one last big push in this last week to take us over the edge! The edge of glory! Sung by Lady Babar, the French elephant popstar king.

I'm not even going to leave. I'm going to wait here until you share that link. Tum tee tumm.

*whistles*

*hums Antiques Roadshow theme*

I'll be here.

Audio-Retinal Sensory Experience.

Yesterday (Friday) was day one of filming for the Red music video.
So, of course, Thursday night...who should receive a mysterious telephone call?
'Mr. Douglas?' The voice on the other end of the line was stern and betrayed a lack of empathy for the sleeping patterns of others, particularly members of the band with cars.
'There's something we need you to do for us...'
And so the next morning I bounded gleefully from my front door before the sun could make its predictable appearance, heading into the heart of London to pick up a 'special' camera that can film back in time, or something.

My battered old car finally shuddered its way to the shooting location at around 11am. Fresh from a caffeine-free cruise through the capital rush hour and a long and winding jaunt to this industrial part of the East Sussex coast, I was met by Jeb, Trewin, cameraman Thom and our brave model Gab in howling winds and stinging, pindrop rain. I hadn't one leg out of the door before I was soaked through and frozen, and was met mostly with the downtrodden glare and grunt of people 'at work'.
'Camera? Ugh.'
It was like delivering a precious nut to a group of squirrels. I thought I was about to offer the cargo in my outstretched hand, but upon looking I saw that it had already gone, and the gang were already in the van, poring over its every detail and wondering where best to bury it for winter. Jeb shook his hair around, and we filmed it.
'Oooooh. That is well cool.'

Step two, then, without giving too much away, was to slap bits of wet fabric onto Gab, the insane fool who volunteered to stand on this freezing quayside in nothing but skin thin bits of muslin, and also to jump off it into the raging waters below. The wind was acting as a call to freedom for the smaller portions of Gab's new suit, so it was deemed necessary that I drive to the nearest superstore and pick up a little PVA glue, all the better to stick the little blighters to the body hair of our shivering volunteer.
'Anything else?' I inquired.
'Whisky.' Gab replied.

Filming resumed, Ed turned up. We sat in the van and smoked, drove around the quayside looking for locations, said hello to a fisherman, and ate sweets. Our manager and resident restorer-o'-sanity Ciara arrived at around three with sandwiches, crisps, and, most importantly, oh, how most importantly, the means to make hot tea.

The remaining hours were the most productive, and most pleasing for the technicians; full of food and, if you'll excuse yet love the pun (bun), on a roll.

The day ended hurriedly. Not an unpleasant situation for someone who wanted to curl up in bed since the moment he woke up. Jeb and Thom were off to see Sigur Rós in London, Ed had...something to do, and Gab was heading home for a 'warm bath'. Good call, Gab. Good call.

Tim

There's literally no good title for this post.

It's difficult to put everything together in some easily digestible round up of what we've been doing for the last week or two.

The hard drive arrived back at mine, safe and sound. The incantations worked, it seems.

Jeb's got an avalanche of stuff to be dealing with right now. Two different recorded live performances are being edited - one at Brighton Electric and the other at Hoxton Bar & Kitchen. I don't usually get to see much stuff as it goes through the mill, as I tend to catch up with people during a practice or over a drink but rarely sit around in the Phoria tech-zone while new footage is being tested or audio tweaked and twisted. We spent a long time a couple of evenings ago re-aligning audio to video by one single frame to get the best sync.
'Does that look right?'
'No, look at his leg.'
'Yeah but maybe his leg's out of time.'
'Alright put it back one.'
'...no, that doesn't look right.'
'His leg does.'

Also Red, as if you're not yet sick of seeing it in italics, has been working a wicked influence on the world. The video's on the way (more work, JEBBY!) and there are one or two little niggles with the release that's changed the shape of fingernails throughout the band. Everything's going to be fine, we're sure. I can see the song living in some little songy dimension, reclining in its big wheely leather chair and laughing as it throws its head back, fingers splayed vertically with touching tips. Everything's going to be fine, we're sure. Genuinely. I have to make that clear - we're just so excited about releasing it that every day it's not officially released is painful.

Otherwise we've been booking gigs (yaaay!), practicing, emailing, sorting. There's been a lot of office work this week.

OH and a photoshoot! How did I forget the photoshoot?! New pictures of me, you lucky people. There's lots of work with silhouette and light and stuff, which means you can't really see my face. That's alright, though - I'm launching my own brand of correction fluid pen, so you can just scrawl my collector's item of a frontispiece onto any shadowy image you like. Improve your art's aesthetic qualities AND improve the value and desirability of your home, with...whatever. My face in Tim-ex, I guess. I don't know.

All this stuff is slated for this month. We'll let you know.

So, Sunday. Strong coffee and a concession to mindless television, I think. That ought to do us good.

Have fun, whatever you're up to.

Tim