Morning

Good Morning.

Hey.

Your amber eyes poking through the sheets.

Those sleepy, gentle drops,

look at me as if

for the first time,

with a sense of wonder.

With every morning, to this very day,

we wake up

and say,

hello.

Like we're meeting for the very

first time.

And before we embark onto our

daily chores,

we share our dreams.

For the first few moments

of our morning

we share the multitudes

of our bizarre minds.

Chuckling, holding,

trusting.

And then you're up and

off into the kitchen,

to make us some tea.

I'm in Love with a Rock Star

I spin your record round
and round,

kiss my fist

pretend it's your
mouth.

I dance all night
to
your sound,

pretending like

you're always
around.

I'm in love with a rock star baby.

I'm in love with you crazy.

In love with a rock star baby.

Can't help but sway just maybe.

At school I dream of going
back stage,

being your groupie,
being your sage.

After school I don't look
at the
other boys.

They don't wear,

those cool
leather
clothes.

I'm in love with a rock star baby.

I'm in love with you crazy.

In love with a rock star baby.

Can't help but give in maybe.

Your poster's are all over
my walls
with
dead lipstick kisses

from the night
before.

I write my love letters
to you

hoping that one day

you'll write back,
to me too.

In love with a rock star.

It can't be all that far.

Much older now

and playing my own,

hoping one day

you'll hear my song.

Stupid in front of the Tube

This is gonna be a rant piece, so if you've had a positive day, then this piece is probably gonna turn things sour. But if you're up for a little steam (and you never know, you might even agree with me) then please, continue. I want nothing more than to entertain you.

Question is, do you own a TV? If you do, even if it's one of those high resolution flat screeny ones, please, do yourself a favor, throw the damn thing out and incinerate it the moment it smashes to the ground. I know, you've spent a lot of your hard earned money on it, you deserve something so pristine and elegant looking. You think you deserve this machine-like-glass because you've worked long hours, sacrificed your social life and so you think you owe it to yourself to come home after 20 hours of work a day, veg on the sofa and watch mindless, vacant entertainment that is created to literally stupefy you.

Well you're wrong.

What you really owe to yourself is to get off your ass and go to a cool cocky hipster rock bar, where live music is being played, where real people, with real soul and real talent, are pouring themselves into something unique and fucking note worthy.

That's what you really deserve to do for yourself. To open your mind and soak up the culture that is decaying in front of your eyes (if you bothered to look up from the television set, you'd see that) and support work/art/creative bliss that's been slaved, bled and vomited over.

Since when is having a 'voice' (as in singing, not voicing an intelligent thought or anything cultured like that) on these soulless talent shows, considered a person to be talented? Oh I can hit a few notes, that means I'm talented... Wow good for you! Guess what, I can also wipe my ass with tissue paper, whilst brushing my teeth and shaving my legs... I guess I must be talented too!

Has our perception of what true talent is completely lost its credibility? And worryingly are people actually that stupid to fall for this lousy entertainment? Or are most people aware of the vacuous experience these shows create, but choose to shrug their shoulders, say meh, I don't care enough just wanna get on with my life and leave the entertainment business do what it does best - brain wash me into thinking this is high-quality-time-worthy music?

That would be worse. Because that means you choose to no longer have a soul.

Our so called televised 'culture' is literally about stupid people watching other stupid people being stupid. Oh joy.

If people spent half as much time out in the real world, supporting real musicians, as they did in front of the tube, I am sure the entertainment industry broadcasting their vapid shows would put in more effort in providing actual talented people (who can do more than 'hit a note'), simply because viewers would develop higher standards.

I could just ignore what goes on around me, not write my opinion on this matter and return to focus on the positives, surround myself with like-minded individuals who inspire me, and get on with my painting or whatever... But today? I wanted to rant, I wanted to write about the demise, the lack of shame, the losers that we suddenly put on a pedestal, write about and 'love' and 'admire' for all their dumbed down way of existence. It's like we don't care about quality. The dumber, the better.

Because really, who wants individual thinking? Who wants to raise the bar, when it's easier to lower it to the point where we're trudging through our own bile juice.

I mean come on, isn't it easier to be surrounded by dummies than someone who questions everything? God forbid, someone might even have an opinion.

Anyway. Rant over. Thanks for reading.

VIRUS LP

Take a wander over to bandcamp and listen the VIRUS LP by The Unkindness of Ravens.

http://theunkindnessofravens.bandcamp.com/album/virus

The Spaces In Between VIDEO

Famous Painting

You know you're famous when you've got famous painters painting you!

From the fabulous John Lee Bird!

Madam in Berlin

As some of you may have gathered, I moved to Berlin with my partner in crime to become full time artists. Berlin inspired us a year ago when we came over to play some shows and write/record our album (out 7 May by the way). Ever since then, we'd save up money when we were in London so we could head back to Berlin, play shows, write music and hang out with inspiring people. Some months back we felt like taking the plunge and move here full time. So when I found out that Madam were touring Germany and were in town, we seized the opportunity to see them.

I've written a live review on Madam before, but that was with the full band back in London. Tonight, however, the usually five piece band is stripped down to Sukie Smith and John Robertson and even with just the two of them, their sound is rich and compelling. The venue they play in is called Madame Claude, which is situated in Kreuzberg; a rather favorite part of Berlin for artists and musicians alike.

Madame Claude is a basement venue, with black stairs twisting all the way down until you enter a quarry of individual rooms drowned in red lights. The music venue and bar is famously known for their quirky interior design; furniture and odd little settings are glued and screwed upside down to the ceiling giving the illusion of who's actually upright and who's upside down.

Tonight it's Friday and just short before 11pm, someone comes in to announce that the show was about to begin and if everyone could make their way down to the live music room please. Without much hesitation, people begin collecting their beers and head on down to an even lower level of the venue.

The evening begins with Andreas Laudwein and Stead, both who are singers and songwriters and sometimes perform together. I kind of indirectly know Laudwein, mostly through the magic of Facebook after he saw us perform in Berlin, so it was a pleasant surprise to discover he was the supporting act. At first it takes the two gentlemen some time to get their sound right, something to do with the humidity apparently as the guitars keep going out of tune (it is incredibly hot, a rather shock to the system) but with the bantering and a few jokes thrown in, the time taken to set up is easily dismissed and forgiven. Laudwein and Stead put on a rather compelling show, their sound is a mix of slowed down Dylan and Zappa with a kind of classic country rock twist. Laudwein's voice in particular is almost angelic at times, sucking you into his story telling. Stead puts on more of a comic show, creating an almost husband/wife bantering between the two performers (which is rather endearing).

The night rolls on, it's after midnight and after a quick cigarette break, we're back down stairs to catch Madam. As usual, this band pulls me in straight away and emotions come rolling in like thunder and lightning. The sound is so crystal clear tonight, that I let go from reality and dissolve into their world. Sukie's vocals have this ability to be bitter sweet whilst lost in romance, even when she's verging on a whisper. It's rich and beautiful and something along the lines of elegantly wasted all rolled into one. John's guitar playing is sensitive and weaves in and out and around Sukie's vocals, creating this effortless sonic stream of nostalgia. To me, Madam is the real underground Lana Del Rey, but way cooler and far less contrived. To me, Madam's the real Nancy Sinatra gone rogue. And even with the band stripped down to the essentials,  their sound still manages to create an atmosphere as if the entire band were in the same room.

After sharing our stories from the streets and much needed celebratory drinks with Madam after their show, my evening ends at five in the morning.

How I love Berlin for it's never ending night life.

Perfect for a night owl like me.