It’s been a long while since I posted anything here, for a number of reasons - chiefly that there’s been a great deal going on in my personal life and I haven’t particularly felt the energy or drive needed to write lengthy diatribes on here. This isn’t going to be a long post either but I do believe it’s important to take stock now and then.
It’s amazing how quickly you come to take things for granted in life. Things that would have seemed unimaginably brilliant in years gone by - festival appearances to happy crowds, international travel, actually having a career as a musician - somehow they all get pushed to the background by a mixture of anxieties and distractions. If you’re particularly prone to being affected by anxiety, as I am, it can sometimes be hard to focus on the positive things. (Incidentally I’m aware of the irony of a relentlessly anxious and pessimistic person writing well-received songs of positivity, optimism and achievement - that’s the human brain for you, I’d suggest.)
Anyway. To counter my occasional myopia there is one moment during shows where I try to take stock and reflect on my surroundings. It’s towards the end of Theme From PSB, when I’m holding the sample of Edward Murrow’s “this instrument can teach…” line. I’m pretty sure if you watch the one song from Glastonbury 2014 that the Beeb captured before their systems failed you’ll see me doing exactly that.
The reason I choose that particular moment is because it was during that sample, in my first ever gig as PSB in The Selkirk pub, that I finally plucked up the courage to look up at the crowd. It was a free show and I was shocked to see the room very full, and seemingly full of happy faces. I was so instantly terrified that I promptly looked straight back down again and carried on trying not to be awful.
Over the past two nights I held down that sample and looked out upon the space shuttle Enterprise and a happy and, dare I say, reverent crowd in New York City, a city I’ve always loved and held to be the epitome of a certain kind of brash, daring cool. We were playing a set filled with songs full of optimism and achievement, of faith in technology, progress and the human race. We were the first band ever to perform in the space shuttle pavilion on board the USA Intrepid. Some of the people directly involved in the songs - or their descendents - have been in touch to tell us how much they love what we’ve done and how much they appreciate their stories still being told.
In short, even in my tired, jet-lagged and generally anxious brain, it was a moment to savour and reflect on.
We go from New York to play at Jodrell Bank for Bluedot festival - from the wings of a space shuttle to one of the most important radio telescopes in the world. These gigs and the current success we have won’t last forever (trust me, you haven’t heard the demos for album 3), but as I’ve said, it’s important to take stock every now and then. We all have so much to be grateful for, even in times of hardship.
Thanks for all the support folks. It really is appreciated, in ways I can never fully articulate.