A Jolly Good Slippering

There’s that truism isn't there about remembering what you were doing when a certain famous event happened? I was at work in a ward lounge in a psychiatric unit when the Twin Towers were smashed into live on TV. I was in bed with someone I no longer loved when I heard on the radio that Princess Diana had died. I was rolling a fag in my studio space at art college when Margaret Thatcher announced her resignation. I was probably having a shit when One Direction split up. Oh, they haven’t? Shame.

Well, 9.45pm on Saturday 25th January 2014 is equally burnt in my memory. I was in Evie and John’s kitchen witnessing indie folk trio The Sweet Ordeal play their first ever gig. You had to be there really. Obviously I was, as I'm in the band. And apparently it all went rather well.

Cello, is it me you're looking for? The Ordeal in pre gig warm up. January 2014. Photo: Evie Whitt

Despite only having 4-5 songs completed in November we had got up to 8 by the time we played: a really good achievement even if I do say so myself. Don’t agree? Write your only bloody blog then. Or add to the comments box below. Actually, please add to our comments box below, I’m so lonely. Anyway, our eventual set list looked like this:

Slow Down
Museum of You
She’s Surprise
One Eye Shut
Chinatown
Stay, Anyway (Make Do and Mend)
Feet of Clay
In Sun Bled Yellow

Or to put it another way, our set list comprised of songs about:

Having children
Being dumped
A bonkers girlfriend
Partner in a coma
One night stands
Having affairs
Fallibility in relationships
Dumping someone

We really must drop Slow Down. It’s ruining the ambience. Or to put it another way, our set evokes the following moods:

Wistfulness
Despair
Distraction
Despair
Melancholy
Despair
Resignation
Misery

Did I say we were available for weddings, birthdays, Christenings? But worry not, the second album will be full of party tunes. Boom!

Finally playing live. In front of actual real people (not pictured). January 2014. Photo: Evie Whitt

Back to the 25th. What were you doing? The night began with The Sweet Ordeal’s John joining up with Evie and playing a few tunes including an atmospheric Gilmouresque arrangement of a Withnail and I track. Then The Palings (Mir and John –yes, that John) did some sweet tunes and then Evie joined them and did a Norah Jones cover that sounded lovely and Beth Orton like. Then Jonnie (not John unimaginatively pretending to be someone else so he could play for the third time) dropped some covers and wonderfully introduced a kazoo to everyone’s delight.

Flower Power. Evie on song. January 2014. Photo: Nick McMaster

We were then privileged to have a band that are on the path to becoming national treasures: the critically acclaimed The Self Help Group. Playing as a 3 (Thanks Mark, Sarah, Clara, sorry Ian, Paddy, another time?) instead of their usual 5 (we’ll need a bigger kitchen), we were swept along on a tide of harmony soaked songs about sewing, dogs, spacemen, twins and the end of the world.

Their subject matter is as varied as their sound is sumptuous. As a lyricist, I love Mark’s ability to turn rare, unusual subject matter and spin them into wistful fables with universal themes. We were also lucky enough to have a world première of some new songs which carry on their American West Coast vibe mixed with a very English lyrical sensibility.

The Devil does not have the best tunes. Fact. Sarah and Clara. January 2014. Photo: Nick McMaster

If you have seen The Groupies before you will probably remember their introductions to songs. With such fascinating inspirations, the songs are helped by some back stories, which are amusingly delivered, mainly by Mark. There is an unintentional comedy in the responses from Clara and Sarah to Mark’s invitation to introduce songs, which they never quite seem to nail, albeit in the most charming way possible. There is a theory that singers don’t really know what they are singing if they haven’t written the lyrics. I’ll test this out with Sam and John in my next song ‘Wayne Kerr Shallot of You’

Making his Mark. Mr Bruce of The Self Help Group. January 2014. Photo: Nick McMaster

Finally, we took to the stage. Did our stuff and received warm plaudits. I was acutely aware of Mark’s slippered foot (it was in a middle class house, people. You take your shoes off when you come in) in my peripheral vision. I tried to make it move. Thankfully I only made three mistakes. No, one wasn't forming an indie folk band in my forties, thank you very much or trying to make a slipper move. Two were minor glockenspiel errors in One Eye Shut and one was slight pitching problems at the beginning of Chinatown. Sam and John may have made some mistakes; they may not have made some mistakes. This is my bog. I mean blog. Oops, another mistake.

A shadow of himself. John in a dark moment. January 2014. Photo: Mir Cooke

The next day Mark wrote that he thought we were “confident, varied and above all, interesting”. That’ll do me, and so will being in a band with two very talented people. I hope that this is the start of something beautiful. Or at least the start of a blog about a band that actually plays in front of people.

Move slipper, move!

All's well that ends well. The Sweet Self Help Ordeal. January 2014. Photo: Evie Whitt

Self Help for Closed Mic

Well, the hour is finally upon us. The Sweet Ordeal, the world's longest in rehearsal indie folk band is about to perform in public. Well, not in public as such. That would be common. No, in a kitchen. And not any old kitchen: John in the band's kitchen. Christ we're brave. Next, we might go to the newsagents in our slippers.

Still there is a rationale for this. The traditional route is probably the open mic night. Nothing wrong with those, and we are lucky to have some excellent ones in Brighton. Trouble is you only get a few songs to show how brilliant you are/n't. Again, nothing wrong with that, except we are a three piece band with 5 small children with two more on the way (The Sweet Ordealies, anyone?), so to go to the trouble of arranging a night out we can all make and then to only play for 10 minutes? Well, I'm not having it, though neither are the public, 'cause we're in John (and Evie's) kitchen.

A lot of bottle. John in his kitchen. December 2013. Photo: Nick McMaster

My own personal view as well is that I'm getting on a bit. I know, I know, I don't look it (hey, you at the back, stop chuckling) but we've got a bit of catching up to do, I wanna bypass open mics and go straight to being on a bill. Damn it, in the early 90's I was the lead singer of Andre Breton's Steam Powered Whippet Band (featuring the Twittering Machine). We once headlined over The Levellers for Crissakes. I know, I know, absolutely ridiculous band name that could have only been developed in some doped up fug. I ask you: The Levellers? Sheesh!

Okay, so that's also the other worry for me. I haven't really sang since the mid 90's, when I was in much loved (my words) folk punk duo N'Arf! Yes, with the exclamation mark. I am so good at names. For many months we performed at the Prince Albert on our famed (correct, my word) 'One Pub Tour'. I still have a half chewed cassette (good band name!) of our songs somewhere, for any completists out there.

Sam playing in sync, near sink. December 2013. Photo: Nick McMaster

Anyway, maybe I'm not quite ready for the open mic scene, being sandwiched between an eccentric old man playing a keyboard and the latest curly blonde haired precocious folkie ingénue. In many ways I'm stuck between being naturally worried about singing in front of a live audience for the first time this century, but also wanting to play for two hours because I'm a bit egotistical. For those coming to John and Evie's, don't worry it won't be two hours. Though it may feel like it if I don't hit those high notes.

We will do an open mic night I'm sure. John is very keen as he has a range of hats that must have a regular airing at The Brunswick. But for now we are going for the safety of a kitchen, though not with the prefix 'health and', being crammed with 20 people. And of course I didn't mention The Self Help Group. If you've not heard of them then they are our fantasy template. A really good local folk band who write thoughtful, clever, catchy, pant wettingly beautiful harmony soaked songs, now committed to an album, that has turned up on many best of 2013 lists: both local and national. For some bonkers reason, they are 'supporting' us. In a kitchen. No pressure then.

I am not sure I have thought this through...

Nick standing the heat. December 2013. Photo: John Hamilton

But I am really excited. We may come across as a bit raggedy and half cooked compared to The Selfies, but I genuinely think we have some great songs that will be helpful to hear in the same context as a band further down the line. It's time to stand or fall by our material. And if it doesn't look like its working, we'll just throw the kitchen sink at it. Catch!