The Little Unsaid The Little Unsaid

New Album Ahoy! A Little Light(ship) reading.

THE BLANK PAGE. (GULP).

PART ONE: THE BLANK PAGE. (GULP).

Hello all, Tim here.

Just coming down from an intense but massively enjoyable few days, re-united with the band to start making a new record on a boat (which did literally rock) on the River Thames, thanks to support from many of you, which overwhelmed us.

I’m going to periodically try and keep a journal of how this new record unfolds, conjured as it is from thin air. No map. No songs to start with. No release date. Just faith in our process as a band plus your active involvement as we go.

A quick rewind: when the idea first came up to make an album this way, from a series of wholly improvised creative sessions, untroubled by schedules and machinations of the record industry – we found the concept hugely exciting because for the first time it meant – if we could pull it off – that we would have the time for unrestrained creativity, responding to the world as it came at us in the moment. However, after a year of being away from all things TLU, we had no idea how we’d go about this.

But then, our beautiful community of fans around the band came together to fund the record to at least the point where it would see the light of day in some format. That blew our minds. To us, it meant that the direct connection we sense with fans at shows was a very real thing indeed, even after so long, even with other financial demands many of you face. And that you had faith enough to indulge this open-ended concept.

And while so many of those who make and release music these days struggle to be heard at all thanks to the hegemony of the algorithmic world, chance, commercial concerns and blind luck, we realised that we don’t have to bother ourselves (too deeply) with that. No, what sustains our band is Connection and Community with you, made in guitar bars, pub back rooms, arts centres, music venues and festivals across the UK (and occasionally beyond) over TEN YEARS. Folks paying for recorded music, paying to see that music played live, telling their friends and telling us what they think and feel about it all. Even after Covid took a wrecking ball to the fragile live music ecosystem. So thank our lucky stars for you, basically. We’re keeping it old school, like human to human. Screw the algorithm. That has to be the way forward for us always.

We’re not tilting at windmills here; the digital genie is (as I wrote without intended irony on Instagram recently) out of the bottle and it has its place in accessing our music. But while many of the gatekeepers in our business use followers and streams as a measurement of artistic merit, it’s not something we can devote energy to as it wreaks havoc with your soul.

So the direct connection we’ve always enjoyed with you folks that buy our music and see our shows became an obvious starting point; why not make this new record with you on board for the ride –perhaps witnessing the shambolic process of making and recording our music for the first time?

Jump cut to Lightship 95 Recording Studio at Trinity Wharf, London, April 18th 2024; Mariya, Alison, John and I in front of our instruments, wired into some top-notch recording gear in the lovingly-converted bowels (bilge?) of a very large red boat. And barely a clue about what would happen when our engineer Sonny Johns called ‘rolling’ through our headphones. We hadn’t played together for over a year.

Not pictured: blank drummer.

But I think the combined excitement of making new music together after so long, knowledge of eachother’s capabilities, plus anticipation of what any of us would generate in the moment –eliminated any pressure to perform well. Everything was valid. We genuinely felt free to roam long and winding musical passageways, sometimes an idea gaining traction immediately, other times required us having the confidence to indulge the smallest idea until something promising emerged – or it was jettisoned and we’d move on. Intermittently, our trusty Lightship mildly unnerved us, rocking with the coming and going of passing boats or the tide. (Is this what Radio Caroline felt like?).

Underway at last (me hearties, arrrr).

And anything could and did prompt us to begin playing - any musical or rhythmic phrase, wooden thing tapped, metallic thing bashed or plucked. John gently exploring on piano or guitar, with yet another thematic phrase emerging after a time, for us to coalesce around as a unit; the thing that always fascinates me about him is his innate ability to make whatever instrument, gadget or object he’s playing express something unique, in a unique way – but how quickly that expression becomes a relatable, living thing.

Or Mariya live-looping traditional Bulgarian sung phrases and improvising around them, using her electronic set-up to create texture and pulse and melodic phrases – or perhaps plucking piano wires to set us all off on an entirely different journey.

Alison on a mission to divine the most visceral sounds I’ve heard her play from her viola/pedal set up, while as always totally complementing whatever else she’s hearing around her with melodic fragments. Equal parts composer Alexander Borodin and a Mica Levi soundtrack, to my ears. Force of nature, that one.

For my own part, besides (hopefully) keeping time for the others in whatever imaginative way I could, I’d actually come up with a few rhythmic and sampled musical phrases ideas back at home in Denmark over the preceding weeks and was keen to lay them out for the band.

Lots of mud for the wall.

Mariya leading a magical improvisation, plucking piano strings.

We were occasionally joined by Sonny on bass guitar, adding rhythmic drive with an old school funky edge – the dude’s playing/punchy bass sound reminds me of Carol Kaye for some reason. (Although he himself is a large Yorkshireman resembling a friendly viking).

Rare glimpse of large red-bearded engineer/bassman extraordinaire, Sonny Johns (Ali Farke Toure, Tony Allen, Isaac Birituro, Polar Bear & many more) at the controls, with the inestimable skills of Joy Stacey assisting.

It’s possible that early on enthusiasm made us play more than listen to start with – keen as we were to make noises in this glorious setting, but soon we settled into our usual way of playing in support of eachother to make something whole.

Provoking and Prompting in action.

Some way through day two, John dished out his hand-written prompt/provocation cards – short instructions to play with a certain intention or limitation (his version of Eno’s ‘Oblique Strategy’ cards). Things like ‘Rave at the end of the world’ / ‘NO CYMBALS’ / ‘It’s all about Col Legno, baby!’ pushed us all to start an improvisation from a very different headspace. What a lad.

At risk of sounding horribly pretentious, I found the moments we really came together to be quite other-worldly; I got lost in them, at times not even conscious of what my limbs were doing as I played drums, colouring in around the beautiful sounds the others were making in that moment. We’d stop occasionally to discuss chord sequences and rhythmic notions, like in Peter Jackson’s extended ‘Let It Be’ but without anyone flouncing off in a huff. The band at its best I feel.

Oh, and sorry again about the Internet crapping out on us during our video feed, for those of you that watched. Gah.

Listening sessions where top sport was flicking grapes at the back of Sonny’s head, til he spun round and glared.

Three or four extended jams might give way to coffee and listening sessions immediately after. And also friends catching up, on the chilly sunlit deck above, enjoying our time together.

All too quickly, the sessions were over. 25 or more solid/fragile musical improvisations in under three days. At this point, we have no idea which will pass muster and take shape, eventually, as songs. We may use just a fragment to create something else. We may use some to segue with others. We may have struck gold if that isn’t reaching. It’s a collage approach, and it’s kind of fascinating to work this way, to trust entirely to process itself.

During our time apart, my bandmates have had life coming at them, just like everyone, all the time. What expression of any of that has crept into these recordings? How will that eventually connect with you, in your own private world? Or maybe our musical impulses were blissfully unconnected to any real world stuff – just an expression of soul? I have no idea, I hit things with sticks, remember.

I’m heading home to Scandinavia next week and I’m looking forward to the journey home to regroup and reflect on the meaning of it all, for surely it all has meaning, however opaque at first. My hope is that this music will create still more connection, perhaps the personal becoming universal as it often seems to.

Til next time! Be well, maybe see you at an ‘Unboard Meeting’ online (campaign subscribers) soon.

We’ll update you all soon. Keep it salty, landlubbers.

Love, Seasick Tim

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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.

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Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.

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