We performed in public last week for the first time since January. To the casual observer we must appear to be incredibly lazy, but the infrequency of our live appearances is down to a desire to keep them special, for the audience and for ourselves. After a while, even the most heartfelt songs get reduced to a collection of vocal noises and finger movements strung together in the correct sequence if you play them too often and know them too well. The intention is that if you come to see us play, my whole weight is behind the words I'm singing. I won't be going through the motions. How this philiosophy is going to bear up when we have a record out to promote remains to be seen! I'm not sure where this puritanical outlook came from- I can't even remember what my motivation was for starting to play music in the first place. I was too young for it to be a way of getting laid, and the idea that I could get rich from it has never been a realistic one. And yet I still find myself driven to do it. And I love doing it. It just worries me sometimes though that I'm vain enough to think that the world needs to hear my three friends and I setting the minutae of our largely unremarkable lives to music. Answers on the Superglider message board....
