Saturday 27 January 2018

Friday 26 January 2018

Wednesday 24 January 2018

Tuesday 23 January 2018

Ghost music

 released their debut ghost album and presented in Rough Trade (Brick Lane branch)

and Charlotte Campbell hosted the songwriters circle with Fayre (amongst others).  

Sunday 21 January 2018

Girls to the front

 This time Miri 

 RoseRed and the Butterflies 
 Emma McGrath

 Megan O'Neill
 Jess Morgan
and Zoe Konez made it all the way to the front. 

Saturday 20 January 2018

I wish I could have put it better myself

We are just two lost souls
swimming in a fish bowl
year after year
Running over the same old ground
what have we found?
The same old fears
(Pink Floyd, Wish you were here)
And sometimes you blink, and the bowl turns into something else. Sometimes it turns into a puddle in the middle of the living room floor. Sometimes in turns into a frozen pond behind a small wooden hut overlooking the fjords. Sometimes it turns into a London telephone box. But whatever it turns into you are trapped. You are covering the same old ground, staring the same old fears in the black soulless eyes. 
So the best thing to do is grab a camera and go searching for souls, hoping one of them will show you the small crack in the fish bowl, and maybe, just maybe, it will b big enough for you to make your escape . 

Sunday 14 January 2018

Solitude in North Kensington



I was half asleep as I heard the wood gently crackling in the fire
 dreaming about the stories my grandfather used to tell me at bedtime
about the adventures he and his two best friends used to have while camping in the desert
telling each other stories and laughing in the good old times, in a century long gone

I opened my left eye as I smelt plastic and rubber burning
for a moment I thought I was 14 once again, back in the camp in Lebanon
where we burnt old tyres and our plastic toys - that we loved so dearly only a month ago 
but suddenly felt no need for - to keep that little warmth escaping our bruised bones

I opened both of my eyes as the thick grey smoke came rolling through the windows 
that I always leave open during the warm London summer,nights
letting in the fresh air and the lively sounds of a town 23 floors below
reminding me of everything I left in a world so far away, in a century long gone

I heard someone in the distance yell:Help! Water! Water! 
and I thought I must be dreaming all this smoke and crackling fire 
I was back underneath the rubber dinghy that had just capsized
with 79 people on board, 75 of whom were in the water for their first and last time 

I leaped out of bed when I saw the fire flash underneath my bedroom door
I opened the door, fleeing for my life once again, leaving everything behind as I did years ago
I rushed from the flat and hit the stairs drowning in smoke, a clear memory of the bombs and fire 
and people screaming, sirens waling, from a time long gone rushing through my head 

The last in the line of survivors in my family, 
this time I woke up to catch my death. 

This is a story from a notebook full of started stories and semi-finished poems linked to that day, that I constantly carry around with me and none of which I seem to be able to finish. After long months I decided to post this excerpt here, just to put at least something from the little black notebook out there. As the walks, everything in the notebook is in remembrance of the people who perished during that night.



Thursday 11 January 2018

I seem to be going

to quite a lot of these singer/songwriter evenings. This time I saw four friends, who if I got it right, are all studying songwriting at uni (now there is a course I would love to do). Nata (from Moldova of all places) started off the evening for us

and Conor Riley followed her.

Leah Bryant was the first act of the second half of the evening and the only one of the night I have seen before

And Richard Fairlie brought the evening to an end. 

Wednesday 10 January 2018

The Waiting Room

in Stoke Newington (now there is a part of London I haven't been since summer, and it was my first time in the Waiting Room). But I was invited or rather called to do a favour and come and see a few bands or performers there on this Wednesday night. First off was Harry Strange (who isn't really strange, even though he does think that Ed Sheeran has ruined it for all ginger singer songwriters playing the guitar (hence the keyboards))

  Then came Up down go machine, which was the only real band of the night (I mean, you know, like all the instruments and stuff), but the bass player found it a bit hard to keep awake during the concert (I know, I bet he is so good that playing a middle of the road bass line is just not good enough for him - so please lads give him the chance to come up with a totally awesome bass solo, he might remain awake throughout the gig if you do)

 And the evening was brought to an end by Gecko, who I enjoyed the most (even though this was the second time I have seen him this year - and it is only 10th January). He has fun lyrics and he likes interacting with the public and keeps you entertained throughout - but hey you will need to think of some new jokes for all those peeps who will come to more of your shows.

Monday 1 January 2018

Starting the new year the way I hope to continue it

With live music of course (well I do also really really miss performances of all kind as I haven't done a lot of them lately - so help me make it happen). But anyway, to get back to the first day of the year. As I walked into the Monarch (in Camden) Dave Giles was coming to the end of his Nashville fundraiser (you wouldn't believe how many English singer/songwriters go to Nashville to record their LPs), so I didn't get to hear a lot of his songs, but heard a few and I wish him all the best in his endeavours.
He was followed by Gecko and his excellent sense of humour presented in an extremely dry way. He got us all to sing along which can't be bad...
and then Nick Parker took us all on an epic journey to Germany with the four German phrases he knows.

 And Sean McGowan brought the evening to an end with a couple of dark ones.