With nails, sand I. (Ineffective).

There's a point in one of my favourite films, Withnail & I (a film that my phone's autocorrect seems to want to spell 'Utensil & I', which I can testify is a completely different film altogether), where Paul McGann's character testifies to his uncertainty concerning the mental health of he and his deep-heat smothered, lighter-fluid quaffing cohort. British humour is often regarded for its understatement.

And so, with tenuous example in pocket, do we turn to another small group of males, insistent that strafing the lines of sanity is the true method of creative endeavour.

I THINK that Jeb and his office chair have now cemented into one single super-being, known as 'Jair'. You can pronounce it 'J-air', or my preferred 'Ja-ir' which gives it a 70s sci-fi bent, and is therefore superior.

He's had to go over the 360 vids again to submit to the judges of the FAENA arts prize, as part of our potential collaboration with Day Bowman. We're very excited about this. I can't tell you too much (I wasn't listening) but it's going to have lights and interactive things and be in Buenos Aires...if all goes to plan. I'll just quickly repeat the first part: Jeb has had to go over the 360 vids again. Again. (Also: Buenos Aires. I know, right?!)

He's also been the main point of contact for promoters and venues regarding gigs and events for some time now, which wouldn't be so bad if hotmail (Sorry, 'Outlook') hadn't changed their UI to look like a brainwashing program for use in a future prison to stop the inmates ever getting gigs.

He's also been working tirefully on the promotional video for Anathaema's new single. His new mantra 'Repetition is underrated' is scrawled across everything he owns, including his only pen.

There's probably loads more that's driving him crazy, but: I'm trying to think of fun things to do when the EP is launched, Seryn is doing some promotions and networking, Ed is sorting the new practice studio and trying to herd us cats into it, and Trewin has been mixing with mixing engineers with mixed results, all of which means we don't have the time for one another that we'd like, and, if Jeb and myself are anything to go by, insanity, fear, and deep self-and-other-hatred is the current rule of Phoria law (Phorilaw).

But then, when has that been any different?

Tim

NB: It's being in limbo. It's being in new-EP limbo that's causing all of this. That's all it is. I do hope you aren't feeling the same.

We're at The Source new music showcase this Thursday 25/10/12 at Brighton Pavillion theatre.

You should come. It'd calm us down.

Wirk.

We're here, wirking.

I'll call it wirking because we're doing it sat cross-legged on a zebra print blanket, drinking tea and stealing roll-ups from whichever discarded tobacco pouch doesn't have badgers in it, rather than donning Primark shirts and sitting in an overly lit cubicle staring at that furry blue stuff you can and will stick pins in.

That's 'working'. We wouldn't pretend this is as bad as that.

It sounds the same, though. That's the trick, see.

So, we're spending the day sat in a circle, netwirking, collating, and factualising e.g  realising our cross-post-capitalist multimedia output incorporating a big shiny picture of Simon Mayo breaking out of a hen.

It's alright, really.

We're looking at our strategy for promoting the new EP. Right now it's: play lots and lots of gigs and try and get on the radio a bit ooh and the internet too don't forget the internet that's proved itself quite useful especially with friends in the friendbook hope I can have friends.

Needs wirk.

Who needs an iPod...

...when you've got a piano (piVANo) and a van (van)?

No news is no news.

Look; I know we never call, but that doesn't mean that we don't care.

News news bla bla summer sunshine feelings of emptiness despair gnawing inside etc.

Is there any news?

Well, we've got our first gig since Weymouth this Saturday 15th Sept.  It's part of the Southsea festival and we'll be playing in the afternoon at the King's Theatre which I must say does sound and look like an awesome place to plunder people's souls with phat chubsteppery.
We're very much looking forward to playing this exciting venue:

not actual size

We've just had our first practice in a little while - we've all been taking a bit of time for R&R (though for Jeb that just means 'Rendering & loads more Rendering', as he puts the finishing touches to a music video for the British band Anathema. I'm going to watch it in a second. You should see my face.), and have each found our own pleasure in not seeing each other's bloated weeping faces whenever we glance across a room.

We, you know, 'needed some time apart', and seem to be all the fresher for it.

Our fellow Beatituder (does that work?)...no, BEATITUDINATOR, and Brightonian(ATOR) Cate Ferris has just released a cracking little EP.  We like it. Find it here.  And here.

Well, that just about rounds up this update of next to nothing at all.

We're still following up favours and rumours for the purposes of finishing off the new EP. We promise you that it is on its way.  No, forget that: I promise. I, Timothy Douglas, do hereby promise that the new EP will be done a bit soon. 

Erm...




There.  Now no-one's thinking about the EP.

Actually, that's disastrous from a PR POV.

OK, think about the EP.

And about our gig on 15th Sept.

But, above all: enjoy yourself.

Tim

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!

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