Sacred Paws play a sold-out show in support of their newly released second album Run Around The Sun at Redon in London, with support from Comfort and Leather.head.
London is a much changed city from the one I left in 2004 for a one year stay in Australia that, out of nowhere, has turned into a full decade. So many of the venues and pubs have gone – from the Intrepid Fox to Bull & Gate to the never-ending Tottenham Court Road redevelopment […]
I feel so privileged sometimes. Humbled. I feel so privileged, being me sometimes. Two hours before this show, I didn’t know it existed. My last night out in London. Don’t look to the past Jerry. You can’t recapture the past. Life is so wonderful sometimes. Humbling, startling. Two hours before, I was scrabbling around with […]
Well why not, I thought to myself. Why, well not express appreciation for anger and determination and fire and verve well expressed. Well, why not express appreciation for a voice that – man it could knock those seagulls down from those gutters where they spend their time plotting against those without helmets, such is its […]
“It’s quite a natural medium for people, radio, I think” A London singer/songwriter that I adore, Paul Hawkins, wrote this memoir, suggesting that writers of any kind should compose songs and, when possible, perform them to an audience. That way, he argues, instead of waiting around for publishers, the author can receive instant feedback on […]
Three reasons why Nick Cave should ask Everett True’s band to support The Bad Seeds on their forthcoming tour of Australia
Just thinking. Nick Cave is soon to tour Australia with The Bad Seeds, and he really ought to ask The Legend! to be his support. Let’s start a petition!
Here’s the thing about all the exhaustion and struggle, the sacrifice that goes into saving up money to fly over to another country. The show has to be worth it. A bad show will leave you crushed and broken nearly to the point of despair. This can be a bit nerve-wracking, but it makes you put everything you have into what you’re doing.
A week later, it’s all over the fucking national music press.
Proper blues music is simple, heartfelt songs about real and universal experiences — blokes and lasses singing about the letter they just received, the bottle of whisky they just downed and gave them a sore head, or the lover who just left them.
I want a little glamour around my presence: glamour is the last thing I possess right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever recapture that mood again.