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@iamfelixwhite
Foreword from Phil Walker, Editor of All Out Cricket, for this month’s edition.
Magazine is available in shops across the UK as well as at alloutcricket.com/shop
My feature, in conversation with a huge spectrum of ex-players including Andrew Flintoff and Brett Lee and many more, on life after the game, will be available in full online in a few weeks.
Some beautiful stories in there.
Felix
Radio X John Kennedy Takeover
At the beginning of April I was in for John Kennedy for the week, presenting XPosure on Radio X. Total honour to be asked. Thanks to all at X for the leap of faith. I loved it. A lot of great new guitar music at the moment as it turns out. You can listen back to all the shows here .... x
https://www.mixcloud.com/FelixWhite/radio-x-felix-white-thursday-7th-april/
https://www.mixcloud.com/FelixWhite/radio-x-felix-white-wednesday-6th-april/
https://www.mixcloud.com/FelixWhite/radio-x-felix-white-tuesday-5th-april/
https://www.mixcloud.com/FelixWhite/radio-x-felix-white-monday-4th-april/
Four sell out nights, five live sessions and just under a year into Yala! and we have our debut release in the shops. Thank you to everyone that has been involved up till now. ‘EP Three’ by The Magic Gang is a brilliant record by a wonderful band, on to some very exciting things. YALAO1! x
You can stream/buy it here:
https://lnk.to/TheMagicGang_EPthree
I wanted to write briefly to thank everyone for the overwhelming amount of messages we have all had over the last week, even the handful of people I’ve bumped into since the announcement. So many stories about little events and crossovers of significance our band has had, accidentally or otherwise, with you in the last ten years or so. It’s all truly appreciated and really re-affirmed what an amazing time it has been. So, thank you.
On a personal note, The Maccabees always meant the absolute world to me. It has given me incredible purpose and been the place where I have lived out what were childhood dreams. I am very grateful for that. We were what I considered to be as authentic a band as you could get, from putting a band together in a bedroom as teenagers and learning between ourselves, literally starting being totally unable to play, to making four albums, writing and recording everything ourselves from the beginning to the end, touring the world and making the band our lives into our thirties. Part of being in a group that works is just the coincidence of the right collection of people meeting each other at the right time. It’s that little thing that just makes a band it’s own and inimitable. I believe we had that.
It was far from unblemished and, as tends to happen when you are learning in public, there were a lot of calamities, which though at the time were mortifying, with hindsight, are just really funny. Personally, given the chance I probably would take back shouting ‘FELIX!” down the microphone to a very silent but very full Birmingham NIA (supporting Ben Folds, ten years ago) when asked by someone in the front row, ‘What’s your name?”, him just trying to point out we hadn’t told the crowd what the band were called yet. It’s one of many.
Amongst those though, we made some huge strides, laughed a lot and were part of some really special shows. In the early days they were chaotic, drunk and frenetic, and in the latter they felt fully attentive, impassioned and multi-dimensional. Though the nature of the shows changed quite dramatically across the years I, almost always, felt borderline euphoric on stage with the band, looking across and seeing my brother, for a while both brothers even, and friends I had grown up with playing this music we had made and that I loved. Of course, there were more than a handful of really average gigs, some of which I’m sure you witnessed yourselves, but there were also no doubt some really magical ones too. When you have been part of something like that it is an absolute buzz, a really unexplainable thing. I used to walk around still fuelled by them, on top of the world, for weeks after they happened. Just as valuable to me as those over time were the never-ending hours travelling on buses, sleeping on airport floors, generally waiting around and turning killing time into an art form on tour between all of us, road crew and whoever else happened to be there. I wouldn’t be surprised if the waiting around, having moaned about it pretty much for the duration, is the thing I miss the most once we have had distance.
There were long spells too when making a record felt so impossible that we were never going to get out of it sane. We poured so much detail into the writing and the making that over the 14 years we probably made less music than we could have done. Sometimes we just felt like we were going backwards for months. But we always got there, always finished with evolved music, something different from the last and a progression of where we had been, and those records always took us to new places too. It wasn’t for everyone. But I loved it all. I really, honestly did. It’s where I learnt to play guitar, write music and have lived out my entire adult life until now. I’d recommend being in a band to anyone. I feel like we did it on our own terms and always immersed ourselves really passionately into what our group stood for. It was a magical time.
I’m looking forward to what is next. We’ll wait and see exactly what that is whilst the dust settles. The future is a bit unknown, but then again, it kind of always is. Thank you again to all those that shared in any of the good times over the years!!! The farewell shows should be great I hope.
See you soon and lots of love,
“I saw what was maybe Bad Breeding’s second ever show and it was totally unforgettable. They were very intimidating and brutally loud, an odd mixture of being very confident and slightly awkward, which made such an impression on me.“
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We're very excited to announce Yala Records!
Founded by Felix and good friend of The Maccabees, Morad Khokar, we’re launching in full at Bermondsey Social Club on 5th August along with the wonderful The Magic Gang (live), dj sets from The Maccabees, Mystery Jets Official and a few special guests.
WWW.YALARECORDS.CO.UK
It's May and Leicester City are Premier League Champions. To celebrate anything suddenly being possible and the sun being out, here's a playlist of various things I've been listening to over the last few months. It's full, in my opinion, of really special music, both new and old, and good for train journeys. Hope you enjoy. Photo taken a couple of years ago mid-tour. x
Home in London, I wrestled with prolonging jetlag to resist sunlight and keep in touch with the 111th Fall Classic, worrying that my not being in America had somehow jinxed Daniel Murphy. From grey London, every one of these previously cartooned personnel in the Mets dug-out looked more human than ever, vulnerable and beaten, wrestling for how they will be remembered, chewing gum even harder and contemplating ‘forgotten greatness’ as they eventually conceded the World Series to The Royals. It left me feeling strangely hurt on behalf of people I had no association or awareness of until very recently. Heartbroken though, is usually a good place to start. I was grateful for it. Though Baseball has meant nothing to me for thirty years, the crash course at the end of last year left me daydreaming of being there for the really meaningless stuff that came before postseason this time round. I can’t wait for April.
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“Was it really not that long ago that we pinched ourselves to have seen Dimitar Berbatov at the Cottage? Not only magical for the strange circumstance that he was playing for Fulham at all, but because there was finally real-time visual aide to what Johnny Haynes must have looked like in the ‘60’s, exasperatingly throwing his hands around in dismay because no one else was as good as him.”
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”He would have lined up alongside Stokes, Moeen and the like very comfortably, both in terms of talent and in mindset, and was above all else an entertaining cricketer, both eccentric and classical.”
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In conversation with Danny Scott.
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“I had dreamt not of hundreds at Lords and eight-wicket hauls, but of being beaten by a ball in a Test match, pursing my lips, nodding back to the bowler in grudging appreciation before glaring accusingly at the wicket. I dreamt of standing in a slip cordon. Slip cordons always looked like bands. They were as close the The Beastie Boys or the Clash as cricket was going to get. All in-jokes and back-of-fingernail inspecting, conferring, impatiently kicking divots and re-readjusting their caps. I dreamt of being them. Not necessarily catching the ball at full stretch or winning the World Cup; mostly I dreamt of the bits in between”
”I was glad to be able to see Wolf Alice headline O2 Shepherd’s Bush Empire recently. I came away thinking how good it was to see a band who’ve been playing venues all the way up achieve something really tangible. It felt reassuring. Special mention to The Magic Gang, too, who were supporting. They have the un-teachable knack of looking like they genuinely love playing with each other. It’s a very contagious thing. The way they bounded around onstage even made me feel sentimental about how we would have behaved before we all developed differing degrees of back problems.”
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“It’s testament to the nature of his permanence that the little quirks of routine have become so second nature to see, like him dusting his hand on the bowling crease as he walks back to bowl, the same way that the last generation would have been so familiar with Alec Stewart’s flicking of his collar, tugging of his pads and twirling of his bat pre-delivery.”
“Alastair Cook stubbornly and impressively still holds his own around a baying precession of never-ending critique by hundreds and hundreds of people ill-equipped to captain England themselves, and this, if the universe is balanced, must finally come with some substantial reward.”
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”There was so much about that day that still feels vivid. The personalities of the cricketers themselves, so caricatured and cartoonish even from the back of the Bedser Upper. It was fascinating that Andrew Caddick genuinely cat-walked up to bowl in real life and it wasn’t somehow invented through television. Nasser Hussain was all cursing and constant muttering, pumping his chest, walking back towards the crease, taking stance, leaving the ball, repeating the process. He eventually half- hooked a bouncer to square leg, staring through the gas works in the distance, arms forlorn, in total disdain with himself.”
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