Life is the fruit aisle.

Well, that's that over and done (over and DOME) with then, isn't it? Nothing to look forward to now except the cold hand of death upon our shoulders. Pack away the ICCI dome, extinguish the stars, etc.

Those 360 videos were like a horror villain hell-bent on dragging Jeb through a sewer of mental strife. He thought they were finished. He thought they dead and long calcified at the bottom of the lake in that small town. But wait...what's this? An electrical storm... The lightning strikes the rippling waters...and...NOOOOOO!

I've seen him through two resubmissions and infinite technical glitches that required his reworking of the whole 40 minute, 5 screen epic. I've had conversations (read: counselling sessions) with him that consisted of nothing but his exhausted grunting about rendering times and screen resolutions that left him sounding like a Spielbergian Rain Man.
And so it crushed me that, upon arrival, Jeb's work had been thrown into disarray by a simple organisational oversight (i.e. the projection team had brought the wrong, unfinished, film).
He was forced to co-ordinate with the projection team and work on it there and then.

The bright beast, long thought buried but tonight reanimated, crawls from its watery tomb to resume its reign of audio-visual terror.

BUT WAIT...

Out of the darkness on galliant steed...THE EDITOR returns to slay the foul .avi file once more.

SLICE!
'Yeah can you remap projector 3 to projector 5?'
The creature recoils in horror!
DICE!
'No, that's OK - but it needs rejigging at about 3:45. Hang on a sec, let me take a look. Yeah...Dave? DAVE?! That should be fine if you leave it there. No...no, Dave? That's OK. Yeah. What? No.'
The beast returns to the soiled crypt from whence it arose, The Editor triumphant for what will, hopefully, be the last time. I mean we were already running late.
THEN the BBC (and they've treated us so well in the past?) requested that we postpone our soundcheck for 30mins while they do their live broadcast from right outside the dome. At this point we were running about an hour behind schedule. It was also very, very hot and I had a little stone in my shoe.

Whinge whinge whinge.

But it was stressful, and also an exciting adventure. That's the long and short. Of it.

Everyone involved played well (ourselves, Nordic giants, and Cate Ferris) and were wonderfully professional (except Seryn 'Fire hazard' Burden).

Thanks to Rory, now our sound engineer (welcome and...good luck), and Ciara and Claire of Beatitudes management fame for doing pretty much everything that wasn't plucking or hitting or strumming or shouting or screaming.

So there we are. Weymouth Olympics 360 mission: complete. Since the gig I've been glugging my time in various seafront flats, killing various parts of myself, allowing them to escape the horror of a life without a future.

I mean, what good is a new EP and forthcoming south-west tour if you don't have a 360 dome gig to look forward to?

Maybe I'll ask Jeb...

Tim

On our Wey(mouth).

It's here! The 9th of August is here! Hurrah! Yes! Time for parties and celebrations, children playing, having fun, it's time for a little love and understanding.

We're in the van, singing. Well, Trewin's not singing, because he has a sore throat. Oh yeah, and Seryn's not singing because he ate some gone off food last night and now feels sick.

I'm singing, though.

Singing to my reflection in the wing mirror.

She looks happy.

WEYMOUTH ICCI 360 CULTURAL OLYMPIAD EVENT TONIGHT ON WEYMOUTH SEAFRONT!

Posture!

It's Saturday. We're filming visuals for the 360 degree show. Time generously donated. See also: cameras, dancers, lights, space. Hot outside. Sunny. Close the curtains. More when complete.
My chocolate bar has melted.
The price of art.

Something prog, something new, something really massive and round, and nothing blue.

It used to be that I would wake up in the morning (read: afternoon), stumble over to my mess of a desk, and give my laptop a good old boot into the punctuated pit of the world-wide-web.  I had immediate and unbridled access to two things: new music and information. OK, let's be honest, three things.

It used to be that I was that guy in pub-tabled conversation:  'Have you heard the new bootleg-EP pre-release fan-fiction leaks from The Super New Underground Great Sound band?  No?  Oh man it's great you have to hear it blablabla...'

I haven't had consistent access to broadband internet since 2009.

Wipe the tears from your eyes, dear telecommunicative reader - I know it's upsetting, but we can get through this together.  You can start a facebook support group for each another while I make a collage of what I imagine that to look like.  I'll make it from scraps in the corner of my mud hut.

What all of this means (finally, a point) is that, unlike the rest of the 'cool', fully-wired Phoria crew who are inevitably on the cruising edge of the 21st century's bubbling musical pot, I have become something of a backwater fish.  

So, what are my habits then, when, after years without and for a limited time only, I do have access to broadband?

I indulge in old 70's Anglo-German prog with crazy sci-fi psychedelic album art, and get so consumed with pleasure that I feel compelled to share it on a collective blog:

Others may provide you with the new and the cool - I'll merely provide you with my own ugly truth.

Alas, there is little news from 'The Phoria'.  Most of us have been tucked into our little beds, sneezing and wheezing away.  It's convenient that this little spate of illness has been well coordinated.  Another winning idea, lads.  It's yet to be seen whether this initiative will improve our productivity. (NB. It won't).  That's government money saved.

We even, regretfully, had to cancel our appearance at the 'Festeaval' festival last weekend, where we were scheduled to appear alongside Bastille, one of my favourite new bands of the moment (thanks, Radio 6, for keeping me umbilically attached to the mainstream).  It's all quirky beats and bassy synth-arpeggiated fun,  so what's not to love?

Our much-promised EP is currently being rested (to be approached again with fresh ears) and we're focussing our efforts on preparation for the Olympic 2012 gig in Weymouth.

Here's a great example of what can be achieved using the set-up we're working with:

Good lord.

Wish us well.

Tim

A weak cough.

Don't worry- we're fine. I know we've been a bit quiet, but we've been having competitions to see who can squeeze Seryn into a Samsonite xSpace (even Ryanair are getting more expensive) and getting, like, so totally excited at the prospect of Ed's birthday (totally). We've been busy, yeah?

Not really.

Me, personally? I've been laying in bed drinking Bovril and watching UB40 videos on the 'musical television'.

The EP is, of course, still being tweaked and squeaked by Trewin into something lovely. We're still excited about people hearing it, and hope all your patience will be rewarded when it finally sees the light of day.

Jeb's also been beavering away, working on the exciting 360 degree visuals for our Olympic gig in August. It's been an absolute joy to see the fear and confusion behind those heavy eyes, the reliable matchstick of legal stimulation snapping them open as a shimmering screen pricks them a dry beetroot red. An absolute joy, I tell you. Don't worry - he loves it really.

Away from all my hard work, then- it's Ed's birthday!!

Happy birthday, Ed.

We've been too busy to organise anything for you, and besides we blew the celebration budget on those ballet dancing elephants for Trewin's party. They don't come cheap. (What a great party! Do you remember, Ed?)

So there we have it. Now you're all clued up.

And not a silly, gaudily packaged easter treat in sight.

Tim