Christmas is coming, the tunes are getting phat.

We've been approaching this whole 'band/music/artist' thing with a slightly more relaxed attitude on the toe-scraping lurch up to Christmas. What with all the toing and froing over the EP for the past 12 months (which has, hopefully, been resolved once and for all (again) with our being booked in at the prestigious Abbey Road: end of January), big gig stresses, failures/successes, and a persistent and thankful sense of impending doom provided by the absolute truth of the definitely oncoming apocalypse (six days, Mayan fact fans); we think we are allowed to...not slack, but wind it down just a touch before our cold, soup rationing, teabag re-using lifestyle gets the better of us. That's not a lament, by the way, but just a little flag above our musical parapet saying that we, too, can be heard in that collective, countrywide sigh of relief, however slight, that seems to be accompanying the forthcoming break, however frugal.

So, that's the mood.

That's the mood that has allowed me to spend this morning under a blanket, sat in my tatty office chair, listening to the album Seven days of falling by the Esbjorn Svensson Trio, which might be one of the best Saturday morning albums ever.

The band are still getting together today, though. Would it ruin any kind of surprise to say that we're spending the day making puppets of each of us? I figure I'll just put that fact out there and let you stew on what we might be doing with them. If you guessed that these horrifying machinations will end up being nothing more than tools for me to act out my meglomaniacal fantasies, then you're at least much more astute than any other member of the band and perhaps you'd like to discuss your ideas over dinner.

So yes, today is arts and crafts day. This is the type of chilling out we do, apparently. Look out for the Phoria sewing circle, and its separate blog: Detaching Seryn from the curtains.

To anyone doing their Christmas shopping today: good luck. Brighton, at least, seems to be a Pamplona of iPads and posh socks.

To anyone spending this dark, cold December Saturday safely indoors, preferably gathered with friends around a steaming kettle, softening the air in whichever way: I salute you. Or, at least, I raise my hand a bit. As much as I can be bothered.

Tim

P.S. We're at Macbeth's in Hoxton this Tuesday night. I'm quite sure our stage time is 8pm, but we'll keep you updated. It's our last scheduled show of the year, so if you're nearby, or know anyone nearby, or are reading this, or are alive, then come down and celebrate the passing of another year and our collective, inevitable slide towards the grave. It'll be fun?

Downbeat. Upbeat.

Right, well...

It's now the Monday after the Friday after the night before.

We got home at about 5am last Friday morning after our EP preview at The Queen of Hoxton. This late arrival was the result of a long drive involving three failed sat-navs, Seryn needing to be dropped off near a shepherd's bush, our nearly running out of fuel, and numerous diversions leading to the seventh circle of the M25. Ed and I were the only ones awake as we approached Brighton, keeping each other perked up by telling detailed stories, usually of an explicitly romantic nature, of time spent in the company of various renowned tyrants. Result of: 22 waking hours.

And all that (diversions, lies) after the big gig itself.

If you came, thank you. Oh, and we're sorry about that massive technical hitch that left us stranded onstage without a synthesiser, and without hope, for what in reality was about ten minutes, but what, onstage, in the reflected glare of bright lights in hopeful eyes, felt like about seven hours. If you didn't come, there's a brief explaination of the massive technical hitch in the sentence preceding this one. You missed out on a peek behind our IKEA scenery. Pay no attention to the frantic sound engineer behind the curtain. I like to think of it as a John Cage-like experiment in anti-music, but incorporating the progressive-jazz spirit of entirely unintended improvisation. That's how I like to think of it.

Still, we previewed the EP, and, even if, briefly, it was a preview of what it would sound like if you tried to play it through a shoelace, I liked it.

Away from all of that, away from the horrors of mass transit systems and sickening software slip-ups, away from broken down vans and this little itchy patch of skin in the groove beside my achilles tendon, away from thinking about the war-mongering alien species living in the centre of the sun, who have so far missed our planet with their gravity slingshots of solid rock and gas giants but who will, inevitably, be named our great overlords, forcing us to bow down and kiss the slimy robe of God-saint Tencatu, famed as Prime-master, merciless slayer of the weak; away from that...

/There was a bit of good news here, which I have now edited out as it might not be happening. Good. Good. Let's move on./

/This blog is now empty of positivity./

Enjoy your panicky christmas shopping, everyone! I don't know what to get for anyone, either.

Except Ed.

Tim

I'll try not to mention the van.

We're in the van, again. When I was younger, dreaming of playing music for a living, I didn't anticipate 'the van'. I will be sat in this cold, hard seat for about 6 hours today. I will be onstage (too hot) for about 45 minutes. I'm more passenger than musician, it seems. That's not a reference to me playing bass.

Yesterday, we were supposed to be practicing at Brighton Electric studios for 6 hours, to make up for missed practice during Jeb and Trewin's Berlin jaunt (the final mixes from which should soon be with us, pending judgement). However, with delays of faulty backing tracks, broken down vans (again), Seryn forgetting something right when we thought we'd sorted everything (again), and the band next door to us playing so loud that we could actually forgive them on the assumption that they'd deafened themselves, it didn't really end up as productively as we'd hoped. The phrase 'one of those days' comes to mind. What could go wrong, did go wrong.

STILL, I for one am glad we got a day like that out of the way, considering what we're up to now. Hopefully whoever's in charge of the 'Phoria luck computer' has called the helpdesk and been told to turn it off and turn it on again, to see if that solves the problem.

Hopefully.

So, 'Get to the point, Tim.'

Well, we're on our way to visit the grand Metropolis studios in West London. 'Oh, that sounds nice!', you think to yourself. We're going to have a nice cup of Bovril and a chat (like a conversation, but with more liquid beef) with Grammy award winning producer Dom Morley. 'Oh, that sounds nice!', you think to yourself again, showing a slight lack of imagination.

Then, it's everything time. Big gig tonight! EP preview @ The Queen of Hoxton. We're going to play all the new tracks, and lots of exciting people will be there (including you, I hope). Come. Come. It will be, as your favourite celebrities so often say: 'as good as a ride on the best ship ever made.'

Only come in a van if you absolutely have to, though. That's my advice.

Tim

(EP PREVIEW! EP PREVIEW! TONIGHT AT QUEEN OF HOXTON, IN HOXTON! DON'T MAKE ME SAY IT AGAIN!)

Sunday is Funday, right?

Well looky-see if Sunday hasn't just rolled around again. Here it is, right on time (it's difficult for it to be late, as the time it occupies and its relation to all previous notions of 'the present' is defined only by itself on its own terms, making all talk of time obsolete and therefore all calendars and clocks redundant, but that's for another blog).
I thought I'd take a break from tea, pain au chocolat, and Ren and Stimpy to update you on what we've been up to.

Right now, everyone's focus is on Trewin's progress in Berlin, where he's been working with a producer on the final mix of the new EP. His updates include 'I've lost my wallet' and 'Berlin is in Germany'. He's mainly been communicating through phone calls to Jeb, which then filter through to the rest of the band and leave us with more questions than answers as to his whereabouts and wellbeing. It's business as usual, then.

Excited. We're very excited to hear the new mix.

Ed and I have been working on our new practice studio, painting it a glorious virginal white while eating McDonald's pound saver burgers and watching The Simpsons. We've just got to get some decent flooring in and we're good to go.

Excited. We're very excited to play in it.

Jeb left today to join Trewin in old hurly-Berlin. He started talking to me, earlier this week, about his stress in getting up at 3am to get to the airport, and perhaps not getting to sleep until 8/9am. It was then only a blink until he remembered that that's how he lives, anyway, so he had nothing to worry about.

Well, that's that. Not particularly comprehensive, but, hey, it's Sunday.

I'm going to recline.

Tim

P.S. Don't forget, it's our EP preview at the Queen of Hoxton in...Hoxton, this Thursday. Tickets are going to be available on the door, and we're going to play the whole EP, with new videos and all. We'll see you there, yes? Yes.

I'm typing this on my phone whilst watching Baywatch Nights.

News: Trewin's off to Berlin this week to oversee the final mix of Bloodworks. I was going to go with him, but a) I have 3p, and b) however many times I might suggest it, Trewin never seems to want to remove his vocals, and all music, from the tracks and replace them with the sound of me humming television theme tunes, entreating the listener to scream the various titles into their cups, creating what I like to call 'Cuppy-screams'. If no-one's going to listen to my ideas, I'll just stay at home.

I haven't seen the others since Shepton. Lucky people. I think I've just about recovered. It seems the gig was well received, which is nice to know.
We'll revel in the pleasure of each other's company tonight, though - we're playing the Green Door Store in Brighton with the very cool EXITMUSIC. I'm in the mood for LOUD.

So, new music getting finished, and a gig to boot!

What a happy tuesday.

Tim

Green Door Store, Brighton, tonight tuesday 13/11/12, with EXITMUSIC

Shepton Mallet Rock City.

Here we are, then. It's 'morning' again (that's according to Phoria Mean Time, it's actually...afternoon or something. All I know is that I've just this second woken up, and that's never a good thing.)
Last night was Shepton Mallet digital arts festival, which we played with previously mentioned fellow Beatituder Cate Ferris. It was a great gig, just so you know. Thanks to all who came, thanks to all who worked, thanks to all who played, thanks to all who thanked, and thanky thanks thank gig mallet.
Right, that happened because last night was 'one of those', where Seryn, Cate and I were scouting around Ciara's Beatitudes palace at 6am for another bottle of red wine. That sounds like fun, doesn't it? Well, it was. Especially the bit about the red wine. That was the bit you just read. Pay attention.
We even kept Ciara and husband Bram (husbram) awake until something o'clock talking about weird stuff we liked. They had to leave at 9am today to, you know, do 'real person' stuff, foolishly leaving their beautiful home in the hands of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...5 people? I think there are 5 of us. No...6. Unless you wish to personify the foul taste in my boozified gob, in which case there are 73 persons here, and an antelope. We're running low on tea.
So far we've stripped the walls, cooked the cat, and eaten everything under the sink. That's about as disgustingly destructive as we can think of being at this time in the morning, but the day is young, and so is Seryn. I think we're going to lock the doors and christen Fort Phoria by blowing it up with us inside, screaming with regret.
So, yes! Let the Beatitudes bells ring! Not too loud, though. I've just woken up.

Tim

(Barely any cats were cooked in the writing of this...thing.)

Normal, band based service will resume this week.

...and tonights venue is...

The Tram and Social in Tooting! Congratulations, Tram and Social in Tooting, you get to have us play!

If you're London bound, then come. It's The Tram and Social (in Tooting).

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