With the new album now available everywhere through this link here (amongst other places) I was wondering what we think of it all, and what’s our favourite track on it, come to that?   For me it’s “The Lights Change”, indeed from the first hearing it was and a couple of hundred listens to the whole album now, it still is!!  Now, I know I’m a fraction biased but the whole album hits all my most sensitive spots all the way through… that’s obviously why I love the boys so very much, everything appeals all the time.

For me it’s great to hear recorded versions of “Spiralina Girl”, “Come on Feel the Lemonheads” and “The Smack of Pavement in Your Face” after numerous live outings, especially from the last Germany/Austria tour, wunderbar!  And all the new songs fit perfectly inside my head, another album that just repeats and repeats for as long as I have time to listen.  And finally, just to scare her, my fave lyric has to be… “there is a Bridie shaped, space within my arms…” except I change it to “Cheryl, Basti & Josie-shaped” of course.

more news shortly,  Neil H

(Soundtrack: “Soul Cities” Kent Soul Collection)
Why do people wave in? I mean, if they are walking past and I am sitting here at the table inside the flat, why do they wave in? It doesn’t seem appropriate to me. If they were close friends it would seem right, but these are neighbours I have hardly shared two words with. Like “Mr E” next door – he looked in and waved at me so I just stared back. And then I felt guilty, as though I had been rude… But then he should stop flirting with my girlfriend… But then I suppose we do use his wi-fi for free… I wonder if he can tell?
A girl who lives the other side waved in a few days ago, and beckoned me to the door, so I went, thinking she was in some kind of trouble. She said she had seen me in here and wondered if I was a writer. Can’t you even get privacy in your own home now? A while ago a chap waved in and asked if he could borrow ten pounds as he had run out of petrol. He said once he got the car going he would drive to a cash-point and return with the money. He offered to leave his phone and house-keys as security, but I declined and gave him the ten pounds. he never came back, so I suppose I was had… but I felt happier being the trusting soul who was had, than I would have done turning him away. Didn’t like him waving in though.
I am now two days into a new day job. An opportunity came up on Friday to start yesterday working for a couple of months for Paramount in their film catalogue department. This was too good to turn down, as I was getting nervous about money, and film catalogue genuinely interests me, and they seem like decent people. Also, I can walk to work – takes about forty-five minutes, which is very good in London, where any journey to work that takes less than an hour is seen as a plus. I aim to save some cash so that I can return to writing in a couple of months time, and keep the writing going in the evenings too.
By the way, the photo is one Bridie snapped of me with the Golden Gate Bridge behind.
Really felt like relaxing with a pint after the first day of a new job, but didn’t because it was Day Fourteen of our alcohol-free Lent. So far, it is going really well – I haven’t found it difficult at all, which has surprised me. In fact, giving up for a period like this has proved much easier than trying to avoid drinking on a single evening, if you see what I mean. I tend to get into circular internal debates such as “I shouldn’t really drink tonight as we are going out tomorrow, but I really fancy one”, which usually end up in drinking virtually every night. I don’t feel much different, but am sleeping better.
It may be tempting to binge a bit when we start drinking again, which I guess would not be healthy. Before he died, my father made me promise to have regular health checks. he said that he wouldn’t have got so sick if he had acted sooner when he noticed any changes, or if he had had regular prostate checks. So I went for a full check up about eighteen months ago, which ended with a session with a German doctor who was going to check my prostate. First of all he examined my testicles. He asked me to undress and lie on my side and then he started fondling me. Unfortunately as he did this I got a fit of hysterical giggling. I mean like a shy schoolgirl, or a tickled Norman Wisdom. He asked me what I did and I explained that I was a song-writer. He told me in his strong German accent that he loved music, and that he was also the captain of a semi-professional sailing team. Each year they chose a song as their theme when they entered the big competition, and his favourite was last year when they had a Queen song. He racked his brain to remember which one it was. “We Are The Champions”? I suggested. “No, that wasn’t it”… “Er… Bohemian Rhapsody?… “No, not that one”… “Er… We Are The Champions?” I offered again, in the way that people do when they have already been told it is the wrong answer, but can’t believe that it actually is the wrong answer. By this time, he had finished with the testicles and had picked up a pair of latex gloves, preparing to go for the prostate. “Oh, what was it, what was it?” He was getting frustrated…. “I know!” he suddenly shouted, and snapping the glove onto his hand he loudly sang “One Vision!”, and shoved his fingers up my arse.
So I don’t hear that song in the same way any more. Luckily it was not one of my favourites from the Queen songbook.
Intending to get a check done annually, I went to the local clinic the other day, where they just gave me a blood-test to check the same thing. As I sat and read in the waiting-room, a family came in, who I think were going abroad for a holiday as they were each getting an injection one by one. I took an instant dislike to the older son, who had that posh public school, the world owes me, air about him. I have nothing against posh people, or public schools, but there is a certain type of complete prick that they produce that Bridie reckons I am prejudiced against. She is dead right. And this one’s first name was Mills. Anyway, when he came out from having his injection, he started acting up to frighten the younger son who was due to go next. Mills pretended that he was dying from the pain of it, freaked out the kid, then revealed that he was joking. “Oh Mills!” cried father. Mills sat down satisfied with his jape. The thing is, a few moments later, Mills did genuinely have a bad reaction to the injection. At first they didn’t believe him, then there was a commotion and all the nurses and doctors came out to help. He looked like death, but was alright again after five minutes or so. I was sitting pretending to read, but actually delighted with Mills’ misfortune.
He would probably wave in too.

(Soundtrack: “Absolute Beginners” Soundtrack, Eric Bachman “To The Races”)
We went back into the studio with Brian last week to record some new Spearmint tracks. These are tentatively destined to go on a 10” EP in September, alongside some live shows celebrating 10 years since “A Week Away”. We went in with the intention of getting four and a half songs recorded and mixed in three days. I say four and a half because one of the tracks is planned to appear twice: different versions with different lyrics. Working fast, we got all the recording done, but didn’t mix them. I suspect this was wise, so they can be lived with for a while and then mixed in a few weeks time. This is better than mixing them hastily then having to revisit.
One of the songs, “A Signal Or A Sign” was brand spanking new, with the lyrics and arrangement being nailed as we recorded it. This makes recording thrilling and really spontaneous as the track comes together before your eyes. It is not necessarily the best way to work, as you may get better results by working on a track for longer before recording, but it is worth it for the buzz. It worked well having a mixture of well worked out songs such as “Outside The Roundhouse”, and totally fresh tunes. Brian was on form and all the guys played really well. Andy was zipping back and forth to Abbey Road to do some charity show with Paul Weller, but he managed to come rushing in and play some blinding bass. It all sounds very Spearmint and I am excited about it – after all it needs to be good to go alongside “A Week Away”!
Yesterday Simon and I cleaned out our storage cupboard where we keep our equipment and CDs. We tend to do this each time we have a new album ready, prompted by the need to dig out copies of older records to sell at gigs. Also by the fact that the cupboard gets so packed we are always hopeful of getting rid of stuff and freeing up space. It is also an excuse to have lunch and drink coffee and make an afternoon of it. While we were getting all the gear out, there was a Reggae band playing in one of the rehearsal rooms downstairs. On the way out to get coffee I mentioned to Simon that Reggae was exactly the right soundtrack to be doing this job on such a sunny day in West London. When I got back I suddenly realised who the band was – only the fucking Specials! We were made up, and were treated to “Do Nothing”, “Stereotype”, “Friday Night Saturday Morning”, “Ghost Town” among others – made the whole job a pleasure! Jim is green with envy…
Tonight we are rehearsing for Thursday’s gig. We are supporting Darren Hayman at The Lexington in Pentonville Road. Hopefully we will play “A Signal Or A Sign” if it doesn’t sound too bad tonight. Am hoping we will pull out another less obvious Spearmint tune too. It will be good to see Darren again – we did several shows together around the “My Missing Days” album, but I haven’t seen him since. Our manager Nick is over from Istanbul – it will be the first time he has seen us since about then too.
Yesterday as Bridie and I were walking home from going to see the new Clint Eastwood movie “Gran Torino” (which is fabulously entertaining), we noticed an exotic looking duck by the lake in the park (see photo). After a little research Bridie found him on the Internet; it seems he is a Mandarin duck, native of China or Russia, and is quite a rare fellow, usually only found in zoos. Apparently they are a symbol of romance and fidelity. I am not sure if he was an escapee, or wild, but he did seem to have a lady with him.
Today is our first day of giving up alcohol for forty days. We have decided to give it a go for Lent. It seems that lent is in fact forty-six days, with the extra days being Sundays which are counted as days of rest. Our version is going to be forty days from today, ending at Easter. I am going to find this hard. I enjoy drinking; have done since I was sixteen. We drink most days and spend way too much money on it. I wouldn’t say I have an alcohol problem, but I sure do fancy a drink quite often. So on the one hand, I am worried that I will not be able to give up, on the other other hand I am looking forward to it. That part of me is happy to be given permission not to drink for a spell. I think that doing the gig on Thursday will be tough.
The money that this will save us will be handy as Bridie is also now not working. She has left her job, basically because she didn’t have enough work to do, which after a while is worse than being too busy. So we are now both at home, and have played tennis a couple of times this week, which is nice on a weekday as it is quiet, and the Parkie isn’t around to collect the money. Bridie is actually a lot more employable than me so I am confident that work will be found soon. I seem to have granted myself some time to write the next album. This feels right to me.
One of the things I dislike about drinking is that I tend to wake up, wide awake after three or four hours of sleep. I did that last night, because of course we got drunk on our final night of booze. It is annoying being so awake for so long in the night. Last night I got to thinking about how I would like to try doing stand-up comedy at least once in my life. I would probably be awful, but it has always appealed to me. Once we were doing a Spearmint gig in Brighton (with Darren in fact) and the power went down, but the microphones were still working so I thought it was the ideal time to give it a go. I started telling what should be a genuinely amusing anecdote about Jeff in Sweden. Halfway through, I realised that I was dying and the crowd were not with me at all; it was awful. Luckily the power came back on and I was saved, but it put me off the stand-up idea for a while. The urge has returned though. I guess I should just write ten minutes of material I am happy with and go and try it out at an open mike night. There are a couple of good comedy clubs near here. I certainly wouldn’t be asking the guy in the front row where he is from and what he does. In fact there wouldn’t be any interaction with the audience – I hate that.
Pity the poor girlfriend who would have to sit through an attempt at stand-up. All the rubbish gigs are bad enough!