Post-Tour Musings and Thank Yous

In the post-tour stillness and solemnity I've been trying to process the chaotic music-based joy that has somehow propelled us through the last three weeks of travelling merry England and making our noises at people. Our full-band UK tour has come to an end, and all I can think in the afterglow is what a glorious mess of strange, wonderful encounters and musical performances that was.

The gigs were so much fun. Occasionally they were difficult for one reason or another, but this is normal and carried with it its own kind of electric energy that bled into the music and made it hugely enjoyable to play. Some of the shows we did are among the best I feel I've ever been a part of. Playing with a band is always great for a lone-wanderer like myself, but this band lineup in particular has really captured the essence of the songs perfectly, reinterpreting and rearranging them for a live situation with such love, care and immense skill. Not only are they fine musicians, but sharing a small enclosed space (our van) with Alison, Ian and Tim over the tour has been an utter pleasure. Not one of them punched me in the face for being irritating, and for this I am eternally grateful.

On reflection it has been a whirlwind of meetings with all kinds of wonderful, music-loving people, and for me this is the main reason to get out and do a tour in the first place. From the bottom of our soggy old hearts, thank you to everyone who came out to one of the shows to see us play, to those who put on the shows and looked after us so well, and to those who came up afterwards to chat about anything from music to Patrick Stewart to the rampant commercialisation of Stonehenge. Between moments of sleep-deprived mania, traffic jams, malfunctioning equipment stress and service station existential crises, you people made this tour a total joy for us. Thank you thank you thank you.

So, we reckon we'll do it again real soon. But for now, I'll be working on new material in a freezing cold attic as the winter leans in. It's only autumn and already I cannot feel my toes. It's going to be a good one. I'll leave you with these rather fine photographs taken by Cecil Hatfield from our South Devon Arts Centre show.

Fare thee well for now,