I’m doing at least one festival this year. In July in sunny Sheffield!
Coming somewhere near you in a few weeks.
If, indeed, any of the below are near you.
Come and have a peek. Some additions pending to the below poster!
** Saturday March 16 Saltburn-by-the-sea, Saltburn House, with Bilge Pump / GGAllin Partridge
Saturday March 23 Sheffield, Merlin Theatre, with Neil McSweeny
Friday March 29 Glasgow, The Old Hairdressers, with Sealionwoman
Saturday March 30 Edinburgh, The Waverley, with Bell Lungs
Tuesday April 2 Aberdeen, Upstairs at the Blue Lamp, probably with Adam Ross (Randolph’s Leap)
Thursday April 4 Newcastle, Cobalt Studios – TBC
Friday April 5 Dublin, venue TBC
Monday April 8 Huddersfield, Kwas Wine shop
Tuesday April 9 York, venue TBC
Friday April 12 Otley, Bloomfield Square, with Andrew DR Abbott
Saturday April 13 Todmorden, The Golden Lion, with Alex Rex / Andrew DR Abbott
Sunday April 14 Eaglescliffe, Waiting Room, with Andrew DR Abbott
Monday April 15 Cambridge, The Blue Moon, with Neil Palmer
Tuesday April 16 Norwich, The playhouse Bar
Wednesday April 17 London ,Mirth, Marvel and Maud, with Alison Cotton
Thursday April 18 London, venue and support TBC
Friday April 19 Brighton, The Rose Hill
Sunday April 21 Bentwaters, Suffolk, Asylum Studios (matinee)
Wednesday April 24 Reading, South Street Arts
Thursday April 25 Oxford, Port Mahon, with Alexander Carson (Wooden Arms)
Friday April 26 Bristol, Cube
Recorded for, and not selected for inclusion on, Song, By Toad 12″ split series (erroneously name-checked on the sleeve where another track, Heavy Past and Violent History, was in it’s stead).
I will donate all proceeds received for this by 1st January to International Rescue Committee
Lead us, Oh! Into fields of danger.
Lead us, Oh! To the farmer’s gun.
Bid us hide ‘neath wall of dry stone.
Progress slowed by the drifting snow.
Cold feet wet in boots of rubber.
Red-cheeked child grips sled and shivers.
Steep side hill born of gouging glacier.
Progress slowed by the drifting snow.
Next concert is a performance at West Dean College for Conservation and the Arts. A series of events curated by my friend Mary Hampton. The event is a ‘pay what you decide’ affair allowing you to express how much you valued your experience in monetary terms.
I’m sharing the bill with the brilliant Hamilton Yarns, from Brighton.
It should be a beautiful evening.
Thursday 13th December.
See you there, lest you be square!
Tickets are still available for this show.
It’s been confirmed that opener, Laura Cannell, will be performing with André Bosman.
Check out their album Reckonings :
“Better than any mindfulness app for cleansing the brainwaves and stilling the souls of the godless” – THE WIRE
Currently battling jetlag at Concrete and Grass Festival in Shanghai.
It seems like the heat will never end in Asia, scary that there is not more mention of climate change in relation to the record temperatures. My skin colour is becoming default tomato in this blistering sun. Skin cancer rates will rise for sure.
Thanks for those to toddled over to the Tipi stage on sunday afternoon. I had a lovely time at End of the Road Festival, good to see some familiar faces.
Come one and all to Glasgow and Newhaven next week.
Stereo in Glasgow on Friday 21st Sept – featuring also a set from the brilliant Richard Dawson, lively noise from Sweaty Palms and Dead Houses.
Fort Process sound art day festival at Newhaven Fort on Saturday 22nd.
I mentioned a while back I was returning to China for a few days….
This is what happened:
Day 1: Wuhan
Head straight to Sense Club Records to hang with Ryan and his crew.
I play the first show, throwing myself through a couple of small amps and practicing with my new set-up of an electric guitar through an iRig in an iPod Touch.
A take-out dinner of lovely gingery tofu and fish soup with rich and a side of delicious aubergine and green beans.
Not long after the show we head off to collect a few things at Ryan’s before catching a sleeper train to Xiamen.
If you haven’t caught the sleeper in China then here’s the drill: Sleep on a board. Shit in a hole. Wake every five minutes to the sound of snoring, or the scent of pot noodles.
Train stations all have andy water dispensers to fill up your flasks. Great, was looking for some refreshing cool water to save on buying bottles. Ouch! Those taps dispense only boiling! That for tea, you dunce!
Day 2: Xiamen
Make our way to the Venue and Hotel. They are close by each other in a creative corner down by a small inlet of sea. The feel of Xiamen is lighter and fresher and coastal. Almost Mediterranean. Where we are I feel old.
We’re guided to a seafood restaurant which provides us a tasty fill. Simply done broiled fish in chillies and ginger, fresh greens and egg. Washed down with a refreshing beer.
The venue ‘Real Live’ is a cosy cafe type of place (I don’t play the larger live space behind the curtain). Fair enough, I’m not drawing a big crowd. I feel much more comfortable in these more intimate spaces.
After I play the staff walks over with a bottle. “That man bought this for you” she says, gesturing toward a couple making their way out of the venue. The man turns before they exit to give an appreciative nod. Well at least one person liked it, or as I often fear, felt compelled to buy me a beer in commiseration.
Ryan and I take a leisurely evening stroll and find a balcony to overlooking the port and a beer to sip. In this humid time, as you all know, one doesn’t feel like doing much.
Day 3: Fuzhou
Wander Xiamen for some breakfast (noodles) before struggling to hail a taxi to the station. We end up resigning ourselves to the more expensive route of a direct taxi to the main train station, instead of out cheaper idea of a short taxi ride to the subway to then take said subway to station. Tour compromises/cheapskate’s dilemma.
Another impressively cavernous train station to catch an ambling train to not-so-far-away Fuzhou. Some European dude in front of us in line to collect tickets remarks “Whats the point of these fast trains when you spend so long queueing for tickets” or some such needless witticism. I fail to have the brain speed to respond with anything but a throttled “heh, yes” when my long-form idea would be to set him straight on the assumption that we are all getting fast trains and his lack of realisation that the Chinese can use their privilege as natives and use the automated machines. Nevertheless, he did nothing wrong and I am just a dull misanthrope.
Fuzhou greets us with another out of town station to subway ourselves closer to our destination. We pop up in a skyscrapered fancy-pants district – and a Super 8 hotel. This US chain boasts a trio of 70’s founders on the poster in the elevator (Look like a young Des Lynam, that other one from the Likely Lads, and Judge Rinder).
Opposite the Hotel is the preserved (or renovated) alleyways, all smart and clean but unsuitable for wheeling my now broken suitcase along. But this is where the almost idyllic creative space of Maker Live is.
Some really tasty starchy chewy noodles later and we’re sat with a coffee waiting for soundcheck. An odd indoor stage with a square of standing floor space roughly the same size.
We have some interest in merchandise and some of the art-student types seem on-board. We sit and drink afterwards at the invitation of some of my audience.
Not much time after this to do anything but get some well-earned kip.
Day 4: Yiwu
After a complimentary breakfast of rice and greens, congee and tomatoes, we head back out to the rail station to catch a very speedy train to Yiwu. “The world capital of small commodities”
Reaching speeds of over 300kmph we arrive at Yiwu which feels pretty lush and green, scattered across some gentle hills. As we clamber off the train a couple of musicians clamber on in our stead. Turns out they played Gebi the night before.
Gebi is set up in an old temple in the hills overlooking Yiwu. It is a tumble-down creative space, run by live-in musicians, and housing a secluded recording studio. Underground pioneer, Shengy, of White+ and Carsick Cars, happens to be out here recording at this time.
Such a wonderful place to play – very relaxed and freeing. The food delivery from a local restaurant was also really great, albeit washed down by filthy local alcohol.
Day 5: Hangzhou
Our train trundles in and a taxi drives us up to the Blue Danube Hotel by the small canal under the shadow of the overpass. Trees and running water makes for a relatively pleasant place to stroll in this muggy season.
In contrast to casual crumbling Gebi the Hangzhou venue is a big ‘livehouse’ in a spanking new shopping centre in neat and tidy Hangzhou. A place where cars stop at zebra crossings!
Snipped to a half-hour set mid-bill it’s a different show to the others where I was the only player -but this means I’m playing to a larger audience. I feel like it went well, and so does a reviewer. I chat to some Yorkshire expats who recall my performance at Moor Music in the late 2000s. World indeed small.
Sorry I haven’t updated this site for a while – I keep intending a full refresh but things always seem to get in the way.
I am back to the British Isles this summer!
End Of The Road Festival: Make sure you’re around the tipi stage early Sunday afternoon.
Fort Process: I’ll be getting to explore a bit more for this one, in some interesting crevice of Newhaven Fort, East Sussex.
In a couple of weeks I head back to China for a handful of shows.
7.16 – Wuhan. Sense Club Records
7.17 – Xiamen. Real Live
7.18 – Fuzhou. Maker Live
7.19 – Yiwu. Gebi
7.20 – Hangzhou. Mao Livehouse
More news to come, but get onto this for now.
Where was I up to? Oh, yes, I’d just played Newcastle with Neil. And as I speedily snook through the night as the only car on the A19/A1/A59 I felt a strange sense of exhilaration and isolation in speeding unchallenged around roundabouts but thinking no-one would find me for hours if I swerved off the road. A stately barn owl was spooked from its perch on a road sign as I slipped off the Harrogate road roundabout, and glided along side me at window height, I looked toward it briefly and it turned its head to face me, a brief couple of silent and beautiful, moving at around 35 mph, seconds.
The following night I’m due to play The Brudenell Social Club in Leeds, a place I know well. Many of my first shows in the early to mid naughties were here. Nathan is always welcoming. This time I get to play in the brand new ‘community room’ and I am also allowing Paul Marshall to join me on stage with his favourite toy, an OP-1. Paul and I played a number of folky shows back in the day. Much of this tour is a nostalgia venture.
Nathan has kind of double booked with Kid Congo tonight, so we play a ‘co-headline’ show – tickets on sale for both shows but they get to see us both. I play first and the Kid plays second, in all his fruitiness. With the short notice about this event there’s not enough time to be annoyed by anything, we just roll with it – the Kid’s band and Paul and I are consummate professionals and wear the evening with dignity and kindness, pleasantry and understanding. As always it remains true that people are mostly decent, and if you are decent to people they are decent in return, all this is just to say they were terribly nice guys the lot of them, Paul Marshall included! Thoroughly worked – a shame the crowd was a little thin.
Reconnecting with old friends and discovering the beautiful ways that life has taken people.
The next show is probably the most out-of-body of the tour. Unlike the dreamy state I was left with by of much of the other dates, Manchester turns surreal and just, I don’t know. Under the threat of heavy snowfall, I find my way into Manchester and Gullivers, depositing my wares and finding some place to park the car. Setting up and sound-checking with Former Bullies was great, and the sound-check sounded tight and wondrous when they jammed with me. Former Bullies and I played one of my first shows in Manchester, back in the old student town Trof I think, in the way-back-when of the naughties. More nostalgia.
First off, the FB set was nice, but then my set the ideas of sound-check went thoroughly out the window as nothing clicked like we’d hoped. When FB’s snook off, for some unknown reason Tom Settle didn’t make it off stage, instead crouching in the corner of the stage for the rest of my set. The finale was a bizarre fizzle. An audience member collapsed, and I stopped to allow some space to see to them. A silent room solemnly filtered downstairs, leaving me and a small group of water bearers and supporting arms to tend to the faint punter. We decided it was the end of the show. Zero applause and bemusement. Some mutterings of a staged happening, did I arrange this episode to further confound my audience. Who knows? Also, is drinking a half a Guinness like not drinking at all?
The following day is a widely anticipated show at The Triangle in Shipley. Gavin and Harry who I’ve known since the early naughties, Harry putting on a number of my first shows in any around Burley and Hyde Park in Leeds, and Gav being a cohort in a crowd I tagged along with to the early ATPs. Turns out they could have sold out the place a second time if we’d been confident. Anyway, a nice crowd assembles in the upstairs gallery space which has only just been knocked through and refurbished. Dean McPhee sets up his amp and array of pedals. He’s bringing his etherial spacey folky guitar into my set too. My old pal Stu Bannister sets up various microphones and percussion bits, based around a child’s kick drum. The minimal sound system allows for no monitors, and we’re all in a row with not really much chance to get a good ear of what everyone is doing. It brings a very intriguing quality to the show – sometimes we come together and other times we are each on a separate path, with Stu veering into his own tempo, the swells and winding paths of this show are pretty dreamlike/nightmarish at times. I think the loveliness of Deans guitar ties the thing together.
The next few days are a chance to rest and spend time with the Yorkshire family before our Christmas in Wales.
The following week we are making our way down to Bristol, rushing to make lunchtime at Gloucester Services. Oh the touring life! There is a decent place for Tomo to play, and you get a child meal for a quid with your adult one. Good deals. In Bristol we are staying in the premier inn or whatever, at that big roundabout at the bottom of the road that Kino is on. Cafe Kino is a lovely venue, and a good size. I think it’s pretty much sold out and comfortable. It was really great to see Rachael Dadd, and have her open the show. And then Landslide Purist play – and a great set, the combo of Sam Wisternoff’s lyrics and the relentless piano of Sean Talbot bolstered by Robin Allender’s lush guitars makes for a immersive listen if you give it time. I’m so grateful to have Sam., Rachael and Robin sit in with me. It’s one of the most enjoyable bands of the tour and the set just seemed to work perfectly! Clarinet, electric guitar and percussion. I added some squeaky shoe floor work again, the room asked for it!
I retired after convincing all to have a nightcap with me at the pub down the road.
The final show of the tour is in Cardiff, prior to our retreating to West Wales for Chrimbletide. I deposit Katrine an Tomo in the hotel and drive round chez Joy Collective. I drop off some stuff and get the car back to hotel, and walk to the venue. It’s lovely to play in such a place – I’m nostalgic for TfL now. The oddness of christmas decorations including inflatable saxophones. My bemused band tonight is three-headed. The award winning Welsh musician, Gareth Bonello, who swaps his usual finger-picking folk guitar for his cello. The multi-talented Totem Terror that is Oh Peas! aka Rosie Smith, fresh of tour with Euros Childs, who plumps for percussion today. And last but not least, Andrew Paul Regan (aka Pagan Wanderer Lu) who has rigged up a modular synth for the occasion, with the idea of taking feeds from my guitar and vocal to fool about with.
Slipping over from Engerland to open the show are marimba, drum, guitar, post-rock whatever, Motes. A really great band to end the tour with. A new find for me, but seems we have a few friends in common.
Despite the sound not reaching far out of the muddy, with vocals not seeming to brighten, technical set-backs for Gareth and a small but dedicated audience, the results are often astounding. We managed to make space for some beautiful moments for Gareth to come through, and he did a great job duetting with my squeaky shoe dance on the polished floor. The bed of manipulated noise and subsequent swells, and the fannying about with my guitar feed etc was inspired at times but not overwhelming – well done Andy. Some sturdy percussion tied things together. A mild sense of relief and more of odd emptiness.
The tour is over.