Doubting Thomas (David)

...and here we go with another ‘on-the-way-home-from-a-gig’ blog: strap in.

Tonight I did a short set of mostly untested material at Touching Cloth. To be honest, I'm quite surprised I went, as this afternoon a black cloud descended on my head, telling me I couldn't and shouldn't do it. I think this mostly stemmed from the fact I've been feeling overloaded, and have been frustrated with the fact that all the time I'd like to devote to writing and rehearsing new material for Bath is being constantly snapped up by something else; by the time I've got to grips with the day-to-day admin of life, plus the admin for tomorrow’s Mostly Comedy, the impetus and the time to work on what I really need to do has gone.

(I'm currently being distracted by the guy opposite me on the train, who’s listening music on his MP3 player and stamping his foot along like a five-toed fleshy metronome; assuming he has the requisite amount of lower-extremity digits.)

By 3pm this afternoon, I'd lost my nerve and felt completely overwhelmed. Then, gradually, I started to redress it. I remembered the reason I'd booked tonight's spot in the first place: to run something in and see if it works. I realised that if I didn't go, I'd only end up being annoyed with myself, along with being aware that that precious five minutes of stage time would be gone. I firmly believe in the mantra of using every moment. It reminds me of something Nick Helm said to me once, regarding doing work-in-progress: “Even it doesn't go well, I know why I'm doing it; if I get one little bit of material sorted, it's worth it”.

He worded it better than me.

All in all, the new bit went reasonably well. i’ll know how well for sure when I listen back to it. I caught the train into London and faced my ‘am I good / am I shit’ demons head-on. Like Nick said: “I know why I'm doing it.”

...roll on tomorrow's Mostly Comedy.

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...

'...I'm Gonna Look at You 'til My Eyes Go Blind."

Over the past week or two, I’ve been on a bit of a Sheryl Crow kick, largely thanks to rediscovering her cover of one of my most-liked Bob Dylan songs. She has one of my favourite female voices, yet despite this, I only own one CD and that’s just a single (her '97 release ‘Hard to Make a Stand’); on that basis, you can only imagine how much of her back catalogue I’d own if I hated her (it would fall into minus-figures). Dylan, conversely, takes up more of my collection than anyone else, save The Beatles and Paul McCartney’s solo work. He’s one of those artists who, when you get him, you really get him - and once I’d tuned into his style as a student, I'd time and again be blown away by his lyrics; he’ll have more jaw-dropping imagery in one track than other people fit in a whole career. These days, I mostly listen to music in the morning when getting ready, and more often than not, this will consist of a suggested YouTube playlist when I’m in the bath, r...

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce...

mostly david ephgrave

Search This Blog