Missing in Inaction

I'm a great one for losing things. Ask anyone, if you can find them. I'm not the sunglasses on top of the head kind of guy. I'm the sort who needs to use the Find iPhone app to scour the bins of Queens Road (long - deliberately lost - story). 

I've lost laptops, keys, bank cards and more umbrellas than the shop in Cherbourg ever sold. If I could I'd have misplaced my childhood before Marillion. I'm more of a loser than Beck. If I had a garden it would be in Heligan. You get the picture. No, please, get it. Before I lose it. 

So it stands to reason that the tables would turn and I'd get lost instead.

No longer missing in inaction. September 2018. Photo: Nick McMaster

Regular readers of this column would by now realise that life in The Sweet Ordeal is never completely straight forward. Indeed, to paraphrase Blackadder's Lord Melchett, the life of this band has twists and turns like a twisty-turny thing, and alas, the latest twisty-turn has resulted in a prolonged period of inactivity. 

The reasons for previous quiet periods have already been shared in previous blogs, so will not be repeated here in case I lose your attention. However, they have not usually manifested themselves in such a way that caused a near complete break, with what feels like a longer 'holiday' than a Blue Peter tortoise. The difference this time has been me. 

There are two types of bands. Or at least two types of bands that I am prepared to write about right now. There are the bands who share the load and there are the bands who have a kind of de facto leader, who tends to either take the load or get given it in a kind of we'll-step back-so-you-don't-have-to-step-forward kind of way. In my experience with the leader model it is a little bit of both, because the leader tends to be the lyricist and the lead singer, and being nearly both in all of my bands down the years, I can conclude that my massive ego wouldn't have it any other way. Yet that doesn't mean I can't moan about it.

Rewind, rehearse, relief. August 2018. Photo: Nick McMaster

I am slightly conflicted about this though. My favourite band, REM, were about as democratic as a band could be. They split everything 4 ways, they all had to approve a song, all decisions (with the possible exception of dodgy haircuts) had to be unanimous. Otherwise they might have gone through with Cans of Piss as a band name. Not sure the £80million recording contract would have followed, mind.

To some extent The Sweet Ordeal do successfully follow this template when it comes to making our music, otherwise sometimes we'd play covers (vetoed by me) and traditional folk (vetoed by John) all swamped with cello (vetoed by Hannah). Yeah, I really bet you want to see that band.

Its more the organising element when we get the hiding under the fringe, staring at the floor and mumbling routine from the other two. So if I don't organise a gig, push for a rehearsal, plan a recording, do our social media then nothing really happens. Do you hear that Stipe? Think you had it hard when your drummer started wanting to write Everybody Hurts rather than just drive the van?

The result is that whilst we all have had events in the summer that have put the band off it's stride, I took the hand off the tiller too much and no one else took up the slack.

We started off the year fairly well, with the gig equivalent of taking up gym membership in January. With good intentions to carry on using the treadmill, we dropped off after thinking maybe the musical beer belly was endearing.

The highlight of this false dawn appropriately took place in a church, though without John. Not because he would shrivel up and die (though he forbids me to use the word 'god' in any lyric) but because he was away. However Hannah and I didn't want to miss the chance to play in front of hundreds of people, supporting Soul of the City Choir. Yes, hundred of people. The Sweet Ordeal. I know. In the context of what turned out to be a largely non performing year that was bloody brave and amazing as we adapted three songs to not include our main musician. And Jesus! We more than got away with it by doing really rather well.

Pew from the back. Hannah and Nick double up. March 2018.

But now we are back properly, as I've started pulling my finger out. We are back in rehearsals again in preparation for ending the year with a house concert or two, hopefully a public gig and the continuation of our album recording.

So lets hope that was the last lull in the life of this band, as I might quit if that damn band leader gets lazy again...

Two out of three ain't bad. After all, this is love

PJ Harvey once sang "I can't believe that life's so complex". In 2017 these wise words rang true. Initially reflecting a difficult time, but eventually a happier one when the rest of that song's lyrics would ring warmly in our ears. 

For the band 2016 was a pretty good year. We launched our current and hopefully final line up and followed it up with seven gigs. Not bad when you consider we all work full time, have a Walton's amount of children between us with all the attendant childcare issues, took time out to try and stop a Tory government and seemingly attract every ailment imaginable. So much so that The Sweet Ordeal is soon to be classified as a disease. Symptoms: loss of voice, loss of hearing, loss of any ability to rehearse on a Monday night on a regular basis.

Not Ill Behaviour. Symptom free Sweeties. September 2017. Photo: Nick McMaster

In 2017 gigs in March, April and November saw us continue to try and complete the set of the best folks nights in the city. We finally gained a slot at the Folk Off Sessions, had another at Brighton Folk, and pitched up at the critically acclaimed Folkroom, who had added to their London portfolio by starting a night down on the coast. With Brighton Showcase and Lonely Disco already under our belts, I think there is only Folklore left. I'll tell you now, no one will escape our folky clutches. 

Folkroom was the one that stood out, mainly because of the 7 month gap between playing and the fact that the compere forgot our name. Whilst a little rusty in places, afterwards, we did get some good feedback, alongside a lecture in vocal technique from a slightly tipsy, enthusiastic audience member. So detailed was it I was waiting to be told the hourly rate and be presented with an invoice.

November strain. The Ordeal live at Folkroom. November 2017. Photo: Antony Palmer

There were though two other live performances that don't quite count, but do mean a lot and saved the year in many ways.

The first was in July, when we were lucky enough to take part in our first ever radio experience, courtesy of Hailsham FM's The Courthouse Irregular, presented by the lovely Neil Povey. Neil coped admirably with our set up; with his set up usually being for simple acoustic acts. We decided to drag along the whole shebang, thus forcing Neil to deal with more confusing wires than a bomb disposal expert. 

It was a really enjoyable evening and at times the top bants resembled a zoo format. Funnily enough, with so much equipment in the way making it difficult to reach the toilet, it could have been even more like a zoo, but for another reason entirely. But thanks Neil, we hope we'll get another chance soon!

A squash and a squeeze. A fit for radio. July 2017. Photo: Neil Povey

The second sneaky performance was rather self serving, in that we headlined the best gig of the year: my wedding reception. Yes, reader, I married her. And our first dance was to the aforementioned Polly Jean. 

It was always going to happen, especially as John was already accounted for. After all, even John (Lennon) had to marry Yoko (Ono). Ah, my beautiful Hannah. Annoyingly described by Union Music's Jamie Freeman as the focal point of the band (What?! But I'm the band's show off!), Hannah is the focal point of my life, especially in a blog that's not about my beloved Queens Park Rangers. 

Seriously though, the wedding was a dream come true. I mean we got The Self Help Group, The Galleons and Jamie Freeman to play for free at the reception. You can see where this is going can't you? I mean I am not going to get soppy. She's only the bass player!

Bearing in mind that all of the previous women who had joined the band had left quicker than a change of chord, the only way we could ensure one staying was to Stockholm her and then tie the knot. Thank you Hannah for allowing it to happen and for bringing your bass. And cello, keyboard, harmony, fashion skills and sex appeal to our little folk project. 

Far from the wedding crowd. John drops in on the nuptials. October 2017. Photo: Paul Lovichi

This little folk project was actually twice enhanced by the reception. Eschewing the usual John Lewis nightmare of crockery and toasters, we asked for a donation to a planned album and managed to raise over £500 for the cause, and so our love and thanks go to all those who gave.

So we hope 2018 will carry those good vibes on, with an album, more than a handful of gigs and some other opportunities to expand our experiences. As we return to PJ and the her quoted song This Is Love, "Does it have to be a life full of dread"? No, as even with the Ordeal, life is Sweet.