About to fly back to New York not only for a Halloween Spectacular with my terrifying Enemies but also to master our next top secret record. The songs have been mixed, polished and edited in Riley McMahon's New Warsaw Studio in East Williamsburg.
Making a record is like giving birth... or maybe it isn't. It takes longer for a start and I'm still waiting for the epidural. The sound of that wailing in the distance? Early onset tinnitus? No, it's me screaming very loudly. Ah, but when it's finally finally finished it will all have been worth it.
I'll only be in New York for ten days. Then back to London for a schizophrenic change of scene: a singer-songwriter set at The Green Note on December 10th. If I'm lucky I'll have a few new piano songs under my fingers by then. Dear Joy opens. She's a wonderful Thai-Danish songwriter who sings much too beautifully. She's even agreed to sing one of my ditties. Very happy about that.
I'm hoping to redeem myself after a recent tragic set at The Salon Noir in Soho. Someone requested Humpty Dumpty but I played my noir classic Walk Of Shame instead. The same member of the audience then stormed across the stage in a fit of boredom.
Moral: NEVER INVITE YOUR 2-YEAR OLD DAUGHTER TO A GIG AND EXPECT TO TAKE YOURSELF SERIOUSLY.
