tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77745150363505792432024-03-08T11:34:25.385+00:00McRaetheism"...while I'm still captain of this sinking ship, we're gonna go down boys, with a song on our lips..."Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-25898152790277084722015-03-31T10:48:00.000+01:002015-03-31T10:48:09.258+01:00Did I Sleep And Miss The Border?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tom McRae and The Standing Band release their new album, "Did I Sleep And Miss The Border?" (Buzzard Tree/Sony released on 11th May) AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER SOON.<br />
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The son of Christian missionaries, McRae is the only member of his family not ordained into the church. Listen to the new record, however, and you’d be forgiven for picturing a ragged itinerant preacher, proclaiming armageddon. According to Tom and his band, the end is always nigh.<br />
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Speaking of the departure from his previous, more stripped back albums, Tom says: “as we recorded the album I had the image of the band gathered round a piano in a post-apocalyptic bar, singing our hearts out as the fires rage around us… also handily blocking the exits and stopping the crowd from leaving."<br />
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That the album is released on the eve of the UK General election is also no coincidence.
"We're sleep walking into a world ruled by oligarchs, where tech giants monitor and exploit our every thought, where governments and banks collude against us, and hyper-caffeinated teenagers design software to destroy any remaining jobs", says McRae, expanding on just some of the record's subject matter. "We're going to need something to sing along to when the shit finally comes down".<br />
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Recorded in Wales, Los Angeles, and Somerset this is Mercury and Brit nominated McRae's 7th studio album, and is the follow up to 2013's critically acclaimed 'From The Lowlands".<br />
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Did I Sleep And Miss The Border?<br />
1. The High Life<br />
2. The Dogs Never Sleep<br />
3. Christmas Eve,1943<br />
4. Expecting The Rain<br />
5. Let Me Grow Old With You.<br />
6. We Are The Mark.<br />
7. My Desert Bride<br />
8. Lover, Still You.<br />
9. Hoping Against Hope<br />
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PLUS Non album single: <a href="https://tommcrae.bandcamp.com/track/what-a-way-to-win-a-war-non-album-single">What A Way To Win A War</a>.<br />
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AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER SOON.<br />
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Tom wrote and recorded the album in between writing for a host of other artists, including Marianne Faithfull, who describes their song “Love More Or Less" as her favourite from 2014's hit album "Give My Love To London".<br />
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Fifteen years since his debut ('Tom McRae Sony/BMG) McRae is an enduring artist, drawing large audiences in the UK and across Europe, and his newly adopted home of France.<br />
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With its songs of rage, tenderness and hope, "Did I Sleep And Miss The Border?" marks the return of one of Britain's finest song writers.<br />
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<br />Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-91463441879832450742013-01-11T02:05:00.000+00:002013-01-11T14:06:04.535+00:00Claude NobsClaude Nobs has died, aged 76, after a skiing accident. There's info about Claude <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_Nobs">online</a>, his achievements, his contribution to the music world etc... but all you really need to know is that he started the Montreux Jazz Festival, and he knew how to throw a truly memorable party.
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I played the festival twice - back in the day - once with my band, and once just me and the cellist known as Oli Kraus. Those heady days of major labels, when it seemed as though anything was possible: reaching a big audience, playing the big festivals, hanging with the stars. So it was that the day before the opening night of the Montreux Festival <a href="http://www.fusions.ch/concert-slideshow-9006.html">2005</a>, Claude Nobs invited me, Oli, my tour manager - the infamous Quinner - and the best front of house sound guy in the world, Johnny Laing, to a party at his chalet, at the top of a mountain over looking the lake.
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Now I know I'm a seriously great person to invite to a party. I'll be funny, charming, not fully drunk until the last guest is leaving, I will never play guitar unless begged, and I'm often there to help with the washing up next day, if needed - but even me, in all my awesomeness, assumed this would be a big shindig that only politics told me it would be good to attend. I was still ambitious in those days and I knew how to network. Sure I'd be one among hundreds, but what the heck, free drink is free drink.
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So I went. Getting out of the limo at Claude's place I was instantly aware that there was only one other car - and getting out of that was The Corr family. Not a big party then, just me and The Corrs, and two others... oh yes, that's Shania Twain over there, with her then husband - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_John_%22Mutt%22_Lange">Mutt Lange.</a>
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So just us then. An informal do. And I'd put on my best jacket. Only jacket.
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What followed is one of my most bizarre memories of those days - and sadly for you, I'm not going to reveal many details of the night, partly because some things are just for me, but mainly because The Corrs have really good lawyers. Suffice to say that Claude Nobs brought together, in one room, a group of people whose paths probably would never have crossed (except perhaps the worst episode of Later ever). During a night of amazing hospitality, I sat opposite at dinner, then played pool and fell in love with Andrea Corr (it's not optional, she's funny, smart, and not perhaps what her music would lead you to surmise)... argued, hugged and became best pals with the man who produced AC/DC's Back In Black, Mutt Lange, and almost talked Shania Twain into covering one of my songs. Almost. And let's not forget they co-wrote "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNZH-emehxA">still the one</a>"... and if you don't think that's a great pop song, don't even try and get on my raft when the big wave hits. Mutt even said he'd come and see me play the next night, which is something everyone says, and never does. But I was flattered anyway.
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It's rare that you ever see big stars relaxed, when you see them from back stage at festivals or tv shows, or after show parties, they are always "on". Aware of the camera, the audience, the critic. But that night, we were hammered. Maybe it was the mountain air. Or maybe the cocktails before dinner - but make no mistake, it was a case of quiet sound checks for all the next day. Alright, mine don't really get loud, especially when it's just me and Oli K. But you take my point.
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The Corrs jammed in the music room downstairs, Johnny Laing played the world's greatest theremin solo, then we all sat and watched unseen footage of Nina Simone from the festival years before. We sat in awed silence watching what only people who had been at that show had seen, a woman possessed, playing great song after great song, the darkness (and heroin) oozing out of her. I can't have been the only one who left that home cinema changed for life.
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The night ran on, the next day's festival show was great, I was presented with flowers by Claude - always nice, and Mutt Lange was as good as his word, he sat there from the first note to the last, and said nice things afterwards.
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SO farewell, Claude, I can't say I knew you well, but you were a fine host, you always threw great parties, the rooms we stayed in overlooking the lake are logged in my rock'n'roll memory bank for when I'm staying in a Travel Lodge off the M40, and need a better view to call up from my past. But more than that, you started one of the greatest festivals in the world, where you would be guaranteed to see great acts, big and small, but none of them would be the safe, obvious choices that make the modern festival circuit look like the same old boring Radio One playlist. And to die, at 76, after a skiing accident - well, that's pretty rock'n'roll. Here's to you.
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Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-18423152916197515262012-08-30T18:20:00.034+01:002012-09-07T16:16:47.602+01:00From The Lowlands Album And Solo Tour 2012 <span style="font-weight:bold;">Official Video For Nothing On The Dry Land by Shane o'Doherty</span><br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/sL22Y8YFOLc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><br />As I prepare to send my new record into the ether, zeroes and ones on a digital breeze, I thought I'd write a few words about it, and why part two of The Alphabet of Hurricanes brings to an end a style of writing to which I don't think I'll be returning in a long time, if ever.<br /><br />Alphabet of Hurricanes was, in my head at least, a double album. But record companies don't like double albums for lots of reasons, so the idea was to break the release into two parts. But as is becoming usual for me, I parted company with the label, and the idea of the record got shelved, along with the recordings I'd already made. <br /><br />I was busy making plans, then a bit of life got in the way and changed my world... and after 23 years of living in London and other bustling cities, I packed up and moved to the west country. Don't ask me why, I've no idea how I ended up here, I just got in the car and drove until it felt right. It felt right in the lowlands of Somerset.<br /><br />One of my new neighbours helped me convert an old boiler shed in my garden into a little music room ( I have about as much sense of DIY as I do of rhythm) and I went to work. After the 2010 tour with the band, I wanted to get straight back to work on a record that I could take on the road with them again, a record with songs written specifically with those players in mind, with a different approach musically and lyrically to anything I'd done before. That record, made in Wales earlier this year, will hopefully be out next year. Best to say hopefully with anything I do these days. But still the idea of Alphabet pt 2 wouldn't go away.<br /><br />I kept returning to that melancholy set of songs. The subject matter had been gnawing at me for a while, some of the memories I thought might be better swept under the carpet kept resurfacing, and when songs keep calling it's polite to at least pick up the phone. Consider this fair warning then, that "From The Lowlands", is as the title suggests, not the happiest of records. I know, I know... I don't make happy records. I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to apologise, but my way of celebrating life is to acknowledge it's brevity and fragility, preferably in A minor.<br /> <br />These songs are resolutely more intimate, darker, and more delicate than anything I've done. It's over 25 years since I wrote my first proper (and properly bad) song, people often call it singer-songwriter music. I'm not sure I know what that means, but I write them, and sing them, so I can't fault the logic.<br /><br />A relatively late addition to this album is my version of Sloop John B, which I recorded for Mojo Magazine earlier this year. It seemed to fit the overall mood of the album, with its maritime flavour and sad, salty refrain (at least the way I did it, obviously) so I've included it here. There's a full track listing below.<br /><br />Songwriting is a strange obsession for me. I return to forms and subject matter time and again, desperately trying to get them right before I can move on, trying to get them to do what I imagine they're capable of when I first write them. I want to simplify or reduce some songs to their most basic essence, so that they become a pure, direct form of communication. As an occasional whiskey (and whisky) drinker, that attraction to the distillation process is probably only to be expected. So this, then, is my single barrel, own label, aged for 42 years, McRae Special Reserve. Please enjoy responsibly.<br /><br />Hopefully you've already seen the teaser trailer for the new record - it's some footage I shot of a buzzard near my house. I've been living here for 2 years now, but I'm still fascinated by these big birds of prey. They were endangered once, now they're so numerous, certain groups want them culled. As a male singer-songwriter, I can empathise. I also love that the collective noun for buzzards is "wake". For a record like "From The Lowlands", that feels appropriate.<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2HpDyE1Dyfg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><br />From The Lowlands is available to order here: <a href="http://tommcrae.com/">www.tommcrae.com</a> <br /><br />Lately's All I Know<br />Nothing On The Dry Land<br />Sloop John B<br />Belly Of A Whale<br />Fuck You, Prometheus<br />From The Lowlands<br />Ship Of Blue And Green<br />All That's Gone<br />The Alphabet of Hurricanes<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYX6sbdOW3NPBkcwcjz48lHrdzkMRgZjR2zbKgA7jLFxTG5bFQ7xrL3rGjn9rWoL_4YJXkJ81ul962Eyurp-o3kYcDWhjSku-qsSUYKlPJH3obkrDghguzgkApCrGh-1uVcuAZD3Lyffk5/s1600/LowlandsCover.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYX6sbdOW3NPBkcwcjz48lHrdzkMRgZjR2zbKgA7jLFxTG5bFQ7xrL3rGjn9rWoL_4YJXkJ81ul962Eyurp-o3kYcDWhjSku-qsSUYKlPJH3obkrDghguzgkApCrGh-1uVcuAZD3Lyffk5/s320/LowlandsCover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5783901794798930850" /></a><br /><br /><br />The solo tour starts in October, full dates and ticket links are <a href="http://tommcrae.com/Tour/Tour.html">here</a>:<br /><br />See you then.... <span style="font-weight:bold;">Tom</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzHmfIqm_IH8ds8K-P9Wn0_C44SLqSTB_z8pKNKHzpuRVxFfjxjzQhvYua96MdaGequcL_3ucplgulRFSkJxsLnDGEf9nrfqeunptcmfMmdIpV6tmb_mUcSCJ_o4tt9lEbpflARkntJjVx/s1600/PosterAllDates.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzHmfIqm_IH8ds8K-P9Wn0_C44SLqSTB_z8pKNKHzpuRVxFfjxjzQhvYua96MdaGequcL_3ucplgulRFSkJxsLnDGEf9nrfqeunptcmfMmdIpV6tmb_mUcSCJ_o4tt9lEbpflARkntJjVx/s320/PosterAllDates.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5785365063063263298" /></a><br /><br />Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-46034632996106193772011-03-13T14:11:00.019+00:002011-03-24T10:46:36.423+00:00Tom At Tut's<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YjUpTeppQ_CCtifE-I6xqG78H5pgOc1dZgirAjiV1G6ryK8KlX3VNOPe3deCIg47z1wMi4fvYSPz6fURN_r-tJFw0PKicJR1HZ3d7PLaU7cq_HHfXw9eW6Cz2Ldzki_-c2Gl_omi9IKa/s1600/TOMMCRAE-LIVE2011-movie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YjUpTeppQ_CCtifE-I6xqG78H5pgOc1dZgirAjiV1G6ryK8KlX3VNOPe3deCIg47z1wMi4fvYSPz6fURN_r-tJFw0PKicJR1HZ3d7PLaU7cq_HHfXw9eW6Cz2Ldzki_-c2Gl_omi9IKa/s320/TOMMCRAE-LIVE2011-movie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583637689288102626" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Maybe you were there.<br /><br />If you were, you will know that these two gigs (November 25 & 26th 2004) were very special for me, and marked the start of my traditional two nights at King Tut's, in Glasgow, which if it's appropriate or possible, we always try and work into a tour schedule. Every band needs their <a href="http://www.stoneponyonline.com/info/history.html">Stone Pony</a>.<br /><br />There's something special about that venue. A back room in a pub basically, but the sort of venue where bands cut their performing teeth before going on to bigger, more celebrated venues. Well, some of the bands go on to bigger things.<br /><br />I think I opened at Tut's for a band called It's Jo and Danny, sometime in 2000. Being an opening act is always interesting. You have a limited time to make an impact, to a room half-full of people who are all waiting for the main act to come on.<br /><br />But at that first show, on what was my first real tour, some sort of connection was made. Not only was I starting to establish what I wanted to convey as a performer, but I was beginning to realise that I wanted more from the usual band/audience relationship. <br /><br />I wanted what I'd experienced at the favourite shows I'd been to over the years. I wanted to feel, and to let others feel, that we are all part of something, some unique experience, available for only that night, in that venue.<br /><br />You'll have to excuse the outbreak of luvviedom... I still think (even at my age) that live music, live entertainment of all varieties, produces the most vivid experiences.<br /><br />King Tut's was also the home of then house engineer, Johnny Laing, who has been my stalwart front of house guy for over a decade. The venue itself is run brilliantly, by dedicated people, who make the experience of playing there as memorable as the audience usually does.<br /><br />Venues like that need supporting. With a crumbling industry and with all of us recession-hit, I worry about the survival of these smaller venues. But I digress.<br /><br />For years, since the technology became affordable - I've recorded as many live shows as possible - with the invaluable assistance of Johnny and later Olli Cunningham. <br /><br />I do this for several reasons. We always listen back to recordings from shows on the bus, there's always something to improve, adapt or cull. Mainly these recordings are for my own archives. When your main job is to provide an ephemeral night's entertainment, it's nice to have a personal memento to listen back to. It also helps on the first day of rehearsals before a new tour, when we struggle to remember what the hell it is we're doing.<br /><br />Sometimes, not often, but occasionally a recording works really well. If the computer doesn't crash, the sound desk doesn't crackle, the house P.A isn't terrible or the hard drive freeze, you can luck out and capture a recording that not only serves as a great reference, but also captures what it was like to actually be at the show. It also helps to have a genius like Johnny Laing driving the desk. <br /><br />I've never been a huge fan of live albums. Too often they're just lesser recordings of the original album versions. But when they're good, they can be better, or a valuable insight into the continued life and evolution of songs. For me, when I want to listen to one of my heroes, Bruce Springsteen, often as not I'll listen to the live double album from the seventies.<br /><br />Something about the sound of the crowd (ever so slightly bigger than my usual audience), the way Bruce introduces the songs or the performance of the songs themselves captures something completely fresh and different to his studio albums.<br /><br />I used to scour the bootleg sections in record stores - remember them? - especially in Dublin - looking for recordings, band versions, solo versions, anything by my heroes that I could learn from or be inspired by. <br /><br />So for me, when I listen through to my live recordings from over the years, I cross my fingers that the performance is technically usable. I don't mean the playing or singing - a gig's not a gig if my voice doesn't crack or I forget the words. I do it with the hope that maybe one day I'll find a good enough recording to represent a whole show. Or in this case, the best performances from across two nights at the same venue.<br /><br />Finding these King Tut's recordings, therefore, was a genuine thrill. And something of a nostalgia trip, but there's nothing wrong with that from time-to-time.<br /><br />Mixing them was a pretty demanding task, then deciding what to leave off! In the end I used most things, leaving off songs where the versions were similar enough to the live trio album from 2007. The heckles and chants and swearing, some of it from the audience, some of it from me, I left on. They were all part of the show, part of the atmosphere. I apologise if any of you are offended. <br /><br />Actually I left it on because I always wanted to release an album with a "parental advisory" sticker on. Walmart was never going to stock it anyway!<br /><br />But like I say... maybe you were there. If you were, thank you for playing your part. I came very close to calling it (and I refer to it in my house) as "Gi'us A Happy Song!"<br /><br />And if you weren't there - this is the next best thing.<br /><br />I hope you like it.<br /><br />Tom<br /><br />FULL TRACK LISTING:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">You Only Disappear<br />Karaoke Soul<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">back at tut</span>'s<br />How The West Was Won<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">if you need a moment</span><br />End of the World News (Doe Me Up)<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">that was pretty good</span><br />Hummingbird Song<br />Sao Paulo Rain<br />Border Song<br />A&B Song<br />Human Remains<br />Silent Boulevard<br />Bloodless<br />My Vampire Heart<br />Boy with the Bubblegun<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">run to the hills</span><br />Language of Fools<br /></span><br />The italicised tracks are some inbetween banter and heckling - as usual - but I've given these their own track numbers so you can skip them, or not put them on your ipod if you find them annoying. Personally, I think they're all part of the experience! Especially on headphones.<br /><br />The picture of the album cover at the top should be okay for you to drag into itunes or to use on your MP3 player for artwork. If not email me at info@tommcrae.com - we'll see if we can help. The image was kindly provided by Alex Boyd, an immensely talented photographer (with great taste in music) more of his work can be found here: http://alexboyd.co.uk/<br /><br />He's won awards and stuff!!! Thanks Alex.<br /><br />So pour yourself a wee dram, sit back and imagine you're there.<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cERBJdyQBX0?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-29062117588748678602011-02-15T22:34:00.005+00:002011-02-16T00:35:13.764+00:00One Foot in The Past, One Foot In The Future<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFgIeEWoVHI58ZwU-DbDFEqKGNQpdrWPRpesZo0HR0CqNl2PY3AmO5AAxavuHxPfDk1Ihtpd4R4yIVy5Fs7wCyvGYrO0j1KY5NM13xevyTMMYV4gyF4wN5suo0mTQWYJp8L0AFaSHzlejm/s1600/StringsTourArtwork2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFgIeEWoVHI58ZwU-DbDFEqKGNQpdrWPRpesZo0HR0CqNl2PY3AmO5AAxavuHxPfDk1Ihtpd4R4yIVy5Fs7wCyvGYrO0j1KY5NM13xevyTMMYV4gyF4wN5suo0mTQWYJp8L0AFaSHzlejm/s320/StringsTourArtwork2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574052750671998802" /></a><br /><br /><br />It definitely feels as if Spring is in the air, I know this because I'm getting desperate to leave the house, desperate to sing out loud again, after the usual winter spell of planning and house-keeping. <br /><br />As well as the upcoming <a href="http://ymlp.com/zF7u4i">String Quartet Shows</a>, I'm putting the finishing touches to another live album, this time some full band recordings from the legendary King Tuts shows in 2004 (you can listen to a wee medley <a href="http://soundcloud.com/tom-mcrae">here</a>). It has been fun, and at times a little too nostalgic (with all that that word means) trawling through the archives. Listening to the recordings from seven years ago, perusing the old photographs - I wonder where the time went and how much has changed since those days.<br /><br />I feel as if I permanently have one foot in the future and one foot in the past, only the present is a hazy uncertain landscape. So the best way to get into the moment is to play some live music - it's a terrible cliche but it really is the time I feel most alive. And I take huge comfort from that. As the world changes and we move away from the economic primacy of art in all its forms, it still is only live music, either watching or performing that has that immense power to move me. <br /><br />Good to see that there's life in the old dog yet.<br /><br />P.S See the clever substitution of umbrella for bow in the picture? We are marketing geniuses here.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-22614070083644643632010-09-29T19:49:00.049+01:002010-10-06T09:43:43.755+01:00The Streetlight Collection + Prospect Tapes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ccHlQ9ZdiNMP24BCUGWsjBfQt2mjiCKacmRScx3h9_iGXgfuMvsHIu-t2a97Mdis-vDGPwOD4ylYZCDVnGPKM9MBbOXISyvblgitGovhHmdK28SGZ3zRrxZM8OKroB89pXfQIh9_v1nn/s1600/Streetlight+collection.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ccHlQ9ZdiNMP24BCUGWsjBfQt2mjiCKacmRScx3h9_iGXgfuMvsHIu-t2a97Mdis-vDGPwOD4ylYZCDVnGPKM9MBbOXISyvblgitGovhHmdK28SGZ3zRrxZM8OKroB89pXfQIh9_v1nn/s320/Streetlight+collection.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524658701816319602" /></a><br /><br />Ever pulled a photo album from the shelf and looked in horror - fingers over your eyes - at the way you dressed in the '80s. Or if you're my age,'70s. Well, putting together this B-side and Rarities compilation has been like that. Has it really been ten years? Some of these tracks need a lot more than youth to excuse them, and unfortunately - being 30 when I released my first album - I don't really have that. I have never fully known how to present a coherent image to the outside world, and my music has always been about an experiment with taste, if not more. These B-sides illustrate that. And more.<br /><br />I just wanted to do the best by the song, and more often than not that meant admitting defeat and letting the song disappear, to be recycled at some future date, rather than release a bad version. Especially a version dressed up in clothes that didn't fit. Some of my former record labels would literally have had me wearing a chicken suit if it would have meant more sales, but there was always a line somewhere I couldn't cross.<br /><br /><br />Putting together a collection like this, of songs that by their nature were deemed not A-side material (and good luck explaining this concept to your grand children) is slightly strange. Songs that fell through the gaps, or never made the grade, or songs I simply didn't love enough, or fight for hard enough, or more often - simply refused to let them be massaged into the mainstream by my various record labels.<br /><br />Some of the songs make me smile now I've heard them again after a few years, and some of the leave me frankly bemused. Why did I write certain songs, why did I do them in a certain way, and why did I leave some of them off albums. The truth is all decisions are made in the best way at the time, hopefully for the right reasons, most of them artistic. Vague as that sounds.<br /><br />Being signed to major labels does (or "did" for me) mean certain compromises, and I can literally hear a line being drawn in the sand by my shaky hand as I tried to mark out the territory I thought I was fighting for. I wanted to be a serious artist, but still one that could find a big enough audience without watering down the good stuff. <br /><br />So many of these songs were recorded as part of album sessions, some I have tried several times without nailing them to my tastes, some are bedroom demos. Some I'm really proud of, some make me cringe. But I'd like to - and if you care to read - give a song by song paragraph or two of details I recall about the song, the recording, the reasons for my choices. So let's look at this in the spirit of "no song left behind". And to be fair, some are just the dumb kid at the back of the room, but they, too, need love.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Streetlight - 2000</span><br /><br />This song was the first song I recorded totally live, and it changed the way I approach making music. I was in a studio, I can't even remember where, busy recording a radio version of Hidden Camera Show (one that never saw the light of day in this country, but bizarrely I heard driving along Sunset Boulevard a while back, so the label clearly ignored me and sent it out anyway). I was hating it, resenting as usual the pressure to turn a little butterfly of a song into a hulking great pterodactyl. It was the label's habit at the time to call up hugely successful(and often amazing) musicians to come and contribute to my amateurish musicianship. On the debut album there was a roll call of Nick Beggs (Kajagoogoo) Howard Jones, Dave Gregory (XTC) and others, who kindly gave of their time for less than their usual fees. <br /><br />One such musician was <a href="http://www.robbiemcintosh.com/">Robbie McIntosh</a> - although to call him merely a musician is to do him a disservice (Pretenders, Paul McCartney). The man is a genius and a gentleman. We had a spare hour, we set up a mic, sat down and with one run through, he played additional (all the good bits) guitar on this song. I'm sure I thought we'd polish it up and have another go, but there was no time. This is it. You can hear me smiling through it as his fingers dance over the frets. It was a song written after the debut album's release, I was working on my finger-picking, trying a lighter style of lyrical imagery, and venturing into "doo-doo" singalong territory. The label actually liked it, wanted it released as a double A-side (remember them?) and then wanted it re-recorded with drums etc. You have to laugh.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Black Heart Rodeo - 2002</span><br /><br />So obviously we're not in chronological order here, because I wanted you to spiral through time in the way I do when I play a gig, or go on tour. The life I've chosen often seems less linear, and more a whirlwind of memories that present themselves as fresh experiences every day and every show. That's my excuse anyway. I also wanted to put some good ones up front.<br /><br />BHR - as it is on the occasional set list - is another favourite of mine. I had just bought my first basic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pro_Tools">Pro-tools</a> rig after the first album, and I was loving the freedom to record beyond the limitations of my old 4-track tape machine. I recorded all of this, and mixed it, apart from the cello part, which I effected and smeared in a way that I have done a lot. Oli rarely forgives me for mangling his craft, but I think I've always liked to twist the strands of things until they make a rope, with which I then strangle my hopes of chart success.<br /><br /> To my mind it's a lovely, mournful song, with some great additional sounds from <a href="http://www.tonymarrison.com/music/home.html">Tony Marrison</a>. We loved experimenting with found sounds, and I still carry all manner of recording devices about me at any one time. The sessions for Just Like Blood were a lot of fun, as I attempted to move away from the troubadour thing that I felt was growing old. "Let go, let go" is a refrain I repeat alot. Something I'm scared of doing, but it's the very release I look for through music. It's the only relatively healthy thing I've found that lets me not be me for a while.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">A Thousand Suns - 2006</span><br /><br />From the much-ignored, largely critically panned, love it or hate it King of Cards sessions came this song. I needed to make a record that could attempt to reach out to more people, I'd seen the way the music business was going, and truth is without some hits (one, for god's sake, JUST ONE!) it's now impossible to fund the touring and making of records to a level that would satisfy me (bla bla, stop whining and keep buggering on, McRae). <br /><br />With that in mind I also wanted to enter the recording process in a spirit of joy, and make something that might act as a counterpoint to my more melancholy stuff. I was trying to channel Peter Gabriel, I wrote this before the book, and before Linkin Park. I also wanted a song with lots of clapping rhythms. My friend and personal percussion God <a href="http://www.hossamramzy.com/">Hossam Ramzy</a> added some Egyptian hand percussion (he's played with Peter Gabriel, Led Zeppelin, and me. All the greats). He also added additional strings recorded in Cairo for Karaoke Soul years before. But that's another story. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Out Of This - 2009</span><br /><br />Same sessions as above, in Battery studios in London, and finished in a house on beach in Suffolk. I love this song. I don't know why I left it off the record, it might have been better for it. Maybe I felt it kind of lost the groove towards the end, as I tried to fit another lyrical section in. Who knows, all I know is I love the floatiness of the chorus. And it is a personal philosophy of mine, that out of everything you do, something will come. That's why I end up saying yes to most crazy ideas like The Hotel Cafe Tour, you just never know what's going to turn up.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Opposite Of Love - 2009</span><br /><br />Sad piano song #4017. A one take, live recording in my old house in London. I like the idea of the opposite of love, and what it might be. I've come to the conclusion it's not hate, it's the absence of love. And as my therapist tells me, I have such abandonment issues that I can't help but see the death in even the best moments of life. Stupid shrink. (I've never seen a therapist, despite many requests from those who know me. I have a guitar. It's alot cheaper, and will never leave me). Lovely cello from Oli Kraus as always. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />I Don't Dream - 2002 </span><br /><br />Originally called Vanilla And Green, but it sounded a little like a Dulux paint. A little gem I think. I don't remember much about the recording, again at home many years ago, the keyboard sound is the standard sine wave from the first sampler I had, but could never work. This is the only sound I could get out of it. So many songs with "memory" in. It's a good word to sing.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Precious Cargo</span><br /><br />From the JLB sessions, in the Dairy studios in Brixton, London - produced by <a href="http://www.soundonsound.com/sos/jul03/articles/benhillier.asp">Ben Hillier</a>. For time signature spotters it shifts 7/4 in the rocky bit. Stick that up your yoga mat, Sting! It was a song about a horrible news story, a guy had killed himself and his kids in a car. Too much for me to get my head round, so a song suggested itself. I'm uncomfortable going into too much detail about this stuff, I like keeping my fat opinions to myself in case it puts people off, in some things, anyway. This was also a very rare co-write with my virtual childhood friend, onetime rival, and most beautiful and talented musician, <a href="http://www.myspace.com/hoggmusic">John Hogg</a>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Only Thing I Know - 2001/4/5</span><br /><br />What to say? This song was freighted with such baggage that it's a wonder I ever play it live - which I did for the first time supporting Paul Weller on a tour of Italy in 2001. It was a pop song that didn't want to be pop. But the label heard it and decreed it would be a single, from that moment on it was doomed. Taken from my hands and delivered to the committee that turns all race horses in to camels. I have sort of hated it ever since, but I keep trying to find a way in, a way to like it again. Which is often how I see performing, as a way of forgiving yourself all your mistakes which you made in the studio, when someone else was paying for it and watching the clock.<br /><br />There's another version on The Prospect Tapes, which has a relaxed demo crack at it, and a version you may know from 2007's live trio album. Strange, some songs are like relationships that never quite clicked but you can't let go of. A case of "what if".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Home - 2006</span><br /><br />A little song given away as an extra track by ITunes for the single release of Please, I think. I like the song, I was about to play it live on BBC Radio 4 once, when I bottled it and played something else instead. Sometimes that stuff happens. It's in my favourite guitar tuning (DADF#AD - if you care) and I do actually "count the years in songs", some years are good, some are a struggle, and if a month goes by when I have written something I like, it's possible I may kill you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Hear Me Now - 2004</span><br /><br />Hmmmm, one of those. My label at the time, Sony, made it plain that unless I wrote a radio song they wouldn't let me mix the album I'd been making in LA. I wrote this to get them to loosen the purse strings. They duly did, I mixed the album, accidentally leaving this song off the finished album - I didn't like it, it's a song for someone else. Just 'cause you can write a pop song doesn't mean you want to be the one to front it. On the day All Maps Welcome was released, I walked into HMV and found it already in the bargain bin for £1.99. Lesson learned. Sony withdrew all marketing, refused all tour support and a few months later I left the label. And so it goes.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Spite of Me - 2000</span><br /><br />Interesting story, only for me probably. I recorded this song on my 4-track, slowed it down so I sounded like a blues singer from the 1940s, and it was dashed off as a piece of experimental fun for the debut album. The label made me do it again. Like this. I was aiming for spooky. I like the slowed down version.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Money Shot - 2000</span><br /><br />I had a drum machine and I was gonna use it. I've always had a thing about trying to write from different directions, rather than melody, lyric blah blah. I liked the groove, I like mantra type songs, and of course, I like the title. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Soldier Song - 2000</span><br /><br />Left off the debut - I didn't love it, but felt I was trying for something. In the recording session we tried a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurdy_gurdy">hurdy gurdy</a>, which just might be the loudest acoustic instrument in the world. It's possible to have huge amounts of fun and yet achieve very little. On darker days it's almost my career motto.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Election Day - 2002</span><br /><br />Written for Just Like Blood, but I felt the moment had passed to record it. A bit clever clever in the lyric department, but there's probably something in there I've recycled for other songs, which happens a lot. The sentiment probably got subsumed into Karaoke Soul, the world has probably already forgiven Tony Blair. I can't.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Give In - 2002</span><br /><br />Again at The Dairy, Brixton. A spare half hour, an open mic - I hate to waste time, so I ran in and wrote and played this. "when the moment comes, give in" - sound advice for anyone, let alone a musician.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Killing Balloons - 2003<br /></span><br /><br />I met <a href="http://www.simonarmitage.com/">Simon Armitage</a> on a radio show in 2003, after I'd used a line from one of his poems for the title of JLB. He sent me some words, I put them in a song, best I knew how. One of us is a genius, one of us is working with the best we've got, trying to get better every day. You decide.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sad Song For The Left Hand Alone - 2002</span><br /><br />I was noodling late night in my bedroom studio, coming down after an almost non-stop two year period of touring. It's no secret, at least in this house, that I go crazy when a tour ends. I'm only really happy on the move, it's the only chance I have of trying to outrun myself. Not a tune that was ever likely to trouble daytime radio.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Border Song (War Child) - 2002</span><br /><br />I liked this song alot, I tried it once for the Just Like Blood sessions, from which this War Child benefit album version is culled, and once for All Maps Welcome. I think I prefer this version, it has a rougher feel to it. With Ben Hillier drumming, and me Oli and John Hogg crammed into a tiny room trying to act like we were in a BIG room. Something I'm still trying to do to this day.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />The Prospect Tapes</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLdjgS-tBy5cFgTHy_Ueuz4nCYp927uwXoN-n89DBJX09gimpLoCEAn0f1YyC3bK_O6mi2GfTF_zVS-PEVSvYqEnLrzwhXxCSj2UzdPniEU3XccURpGKctP50StHRYikdlJwrunvGqCA7/s1600/Prospect+Tapes.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLdjgS-tBy5cFgTHy_Ueuz4nCYp927uwXoN-n89DBJX09gimpLoCEAn0f1YyC3bK_O6mi2GfTF_zVS-PEVSvYqEnLrzwhXxCSj2UzdPniEU3XccURpGKctP50StHRYikdlJwrunvGqCA7/s320/Prospect+Tapes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524661893049777778" /></a><br /><br />This set of ten recordings is from my time in LA. I rented a little house in Los Feliz, Oli and Olli came to stay and we recorded these demos in our living room. Some of the songs went on to be re-recorded for what became All Maps Welcome, some of the songs got thrown into that great recycling bin in my mind, and some just drifted off into the ether.<br /><br />From the real cicadas chirping away on our porch* at the start of You Will Rise, to the occasional passing truck in the distance, this is recording at its most spontaneous and unfussy. In many ways, I think it's some of the best recording I've done. Before the label started bossing the songs around, before anyone was present to tell us yes or no, it's just the three of us, playing for fun.<br /><br />Some lyrics have changed, and some arrangements, and in doing so some things were gained and some things (and songs) lost. That's the nature of demos. I don't really do many demos these days, once I start recording a song, there's usually an element of that first recording that makes the final version, if not actually <span style="font-style:italic;">defining</span> it, which is more and more the case these days. <br /><br />Listen for instance to Jet Engine Lullaby, I'm clearly just making up the words at the very end (and running out of steam and breath), and we don't seem sure how to finish the song. And how The Only Thing I Know excited the label, but became a battle ground. <br /><br />There's an excitement to a first recording, an uncertainty, a fragility because you haven't quite learned the song yet - that is often so much more powerful than a final studio version, especially one that satisfies the needs of the label. <br /><br />Which is why I love these Prospect Tapes. For a couple of months or so I was joined in LA by my two best friends, and with no one watching over us, we made these recordings, with gear borrowed from our upstairs neighbour, Petey. It was a time of contrasts in my life, I was simultaneously as happy and hopeful as I've ever been, and yet broken-hearted and inconsolable. If such a state is possible, California was the state it was possible in. <br /><br />I hope you enjoy listening to these recordings as much as I enjoyed making them, it's rare that I can say that and mean it.<br /><br />* <span style="font-style:italic;">My A&R guy said that the cricket loop we'd added at the start was a bit over the top. I thought my A&R guy was a bit of a prick.<br /></span>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-73019139460669817872010-09-12T22:10:00.000+01:002010-09-12T22:11:03.398+01:00Super 8 clips from AOH Tour 2010<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/itf52XzPT3E?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/itf52XzPT3E?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-73695176409700736512010-09-07T09:16:00.002+01:002010-09-07T11:11:57.139+01:00Let Us Sit Upon The Floor And Tell Sad Stories Of The Kings<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCHkl3Ghy5k2nyc_IxPlQb7rPlhf8U6zSz4luGfkmHOa2J-xTgL-9G6no56b0JMEMRo6K8_MvekcfdPMrv3xLdLt883GKhNcN_WVmZq8OKb2jGEt3eRE-5FLSCwWTg_jR8qRqBxZiYbcu0/s1600/IMG_3185.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCHkl3Ghy5k2nyc_IxPlQb7rPlhf8U6zSz4luGfkmHOa2J-xTgL-9G6no56b0JMEMRo6K8_MvekcfdPMrv3xLdLt883GKhNcN_WVmZq8OKb2jGEt3eRE-5FLSCwWTg_jR8qRqBxZiYbcu0/s320/IMG_3185.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513520046432113346" /></a><br /><br />Richard christened us The Catshit Kings. Misheard lyrics can be hilarious, not so much in your own song. It is, without doubt, a terrible name. You dream of a band name to rank alongside Crazy Horse, The Attractions, The Bad Seeds... you even make a note of a few in your little black book for possible future use, and then some bass playing comedian ridicules one of your songs and suddenly you're stuck with something truly awful. But it made us laugh, and makes performing that song doubly hard, knowing that behind my back they're all sniggering.<br /><br />But that's what being in a band is all about. Finding a gang, a bunch of friends who support each other in every way, but also know how to cut each other down to size when necessary. A band is a hard thing for a singer-songwriter to find, let alone fund, and I’ve been lucky through the years, persuading some great people to play with me. <br /><br />Some stay, some leave, some come back. Touring with me is a bit like a gap year, or voluntary service overseas – the riches may be little but the rewards are great. So here’s to you Laura, Clive, Tony, John, Ian, Ash, Gary, Richard, Dave, Brian, and of course, my brothers-in-alms, Olli and Oli. And Johnny, the best sound man in the known universe, and several parallel ones. I couldn’t have wanted for better friends.<br /><br />Now the year draws to a close, the money is spent, and after many sell-out shows - often with bigger audiences than ever - it’s time to pack the band back into the box and bid farewell. We gave of our best, every night. We meant it, every night. As The Boss says "no one pays to hear how good you were last night". And that’s why he’s The Boss.<br /><br />So these October dates will be our last hurrah, our last voyage, our valedictory. Everyone knows that life is different for musicians these days, but it’s changing for all of us. Times are hard for everyone and life is what it is – no violins, no wailing – adopt, adapt, survive. The world spins, things change. Noone's job or chosen career is safe. We are all in the same boat.<br /><br />And what a boat it has been. Over the years it’s gone from tall ship to barge, from rowing boat to canoe. Now it's time to finally face facts and learn to swim. There will be more adventures, different guises, fewer extended boating metaphors - and fresh projects to get excited about, not least a solo tour ... and before too long the second half of the album... but for the time being it's don the speedos, pull down the goggles and without sight of land or horizon, just swim.<br /><br />So a big thank you to all of you who came to the shows earlier this year, and to the festivals, and to all of you who have been coming to the gigs for a decade. And to those of you who helped out, who trimmed the sails, pumped the bilges and joined me in the search for land. I hope it was all worth it. I’ve loved every second.<br /><br />Don't miss this last chance to see us as a band. We're going to send the old girl down to the depths in style.<br /><br />In the days to come, keep an eye out for me in the rising waters. That dot in the distance, that’s me. I’m not drowning, I’m waving.<br /><br /><br />RIP The Catshit Kings.<br /><br />Long live The Catshit Kings.<br /><br /><br />Tom<br /><br /><br />PS And for any of you choking back the tears, just picture me in Speedos.<br /><br />PPS... extra-curricular ramblings <a href="http://themcraetheist.blogspot.com/p/2.html">here</a>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-36699504970157642082010-08-25T18:29:00.004+01:002010-08-25T19:17:04.942+01:00My Press Release for the new single<span style="font-style:italic;">I wrote this press release in the spirit of Morgan Freeman's character in The Shawshank Redemption - you know, where he's up for parole for the umpteenth time....<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Press Release:<br /><br />Tom McRae, new single “Still Love You” (Cooking Vinyl) October < insert date ></span><br /><br />“Still Love You” is the second single taken from Tom McRae’s critically acclaimed fifth album “Alphabet of Hurricanes” on Cooking Vinyl.<br /><br />The Guardian gave the album four stars saying this: “ The Alphabet of Hurricanes reinforces his status as one of Britain's better songwriters.” <br /><br />The poet Simon Armitage, said of Tom: “Tom McRae is a smart guy…I’m talking about the records he makes, and their unapologetic intelligence in a world where popular music has pawned its soul to the television schedules and the light entertainment industry.”<br /><br />Mercury and Brit nominated McRae has gained a fantastic reputation for powerful live shows, especially following his recent sold out tour of Europe.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">…Wait, I can’t be bothered to keep up the pretence. I’ve been asked to write this press release ‘cause times are hard in the business right now and we’re all trying to help out. So here I am, trying to find things to say about myself that are in anyway interesting. Now I know how you must feel. There really isn’t much is there? I wish there was, my life would be easier. But I write songs, I record them, then I tour them.<br /><br />When I do release records, most people say they like them, but not enough to write about them or play them on radio. And to be honest, I don’t expect that to change. Not because I don’t think I’m any good, it’s just like I said, there’s nothing interesting to say about me. <br /><br />Not wishing to be rude, but rather than me cobbling together some guff about my unique blend of bla bla high voice and bla bla melancholic bla bla... there's always Google. You can find most things about me there. Good and bad. <br /><br />Don’t get me wrong, my life is great. I’ve had a pretty lucky ten years. My fans keep coming, I play good venues in great cities all round the world. I feel I get better at what I do each year, and my life is very rewarding. And that doesn’t make for a very special story does it? Although it does make for a very special life. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that. Rehabilitated? It's just a bullshit word. So go ahead and stamp your forms, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.<br /></span><br />(I didn't include this bit... but I wanted to. I really wanted to.)<br /><br />All the best,<br />Tom McRae<br /></span><br />To support the release of the new single I’m doing a short tour of some European Cities.<br /><br />October 11th Brussels AB<br />October 12th Paris La Cigale<br />October 14th London Shepherds Bush Empire<br />October 15th Newcastle Sage<br />October 16th Glasgow Oran Mor<br />October 17th Edinburgh Liquid Rooms<br />October 21st Bergen, Norway<br />October 22nd Haugesund, Norway<br />October 23rd Olso, Norway<br /><br />PS I'll get round to properly compiling some thoughts, but I'm trying to write a book about my life in the music business, as well as work on the album and organise October's tour, and I'm a terrible multi-tasker.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-31694841648761438532010-03-05T12:53:00.002+00:002010-03-05T12:59:57.286+00:00It’s The Little Things<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTN4kbRFfnrcB9Mlpm2cdio_x1yi_DK-RanO5UPRubD65-MoshtIBfI70nfoBuzioWi8k7EBwnWaUMusJqGm84_p6h1ZBoQb9_DQY2PvjQqpf68vKIzWfx2CPL9XvWjvHXrjb-uYVwzrxJ/s1600-h/Big+Green+Bus.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTN4kbRFfnrcB9Mlpm2cdio_x1yi_DK-RanO5UPRubD65-MoshtIBfI70nfoBuzioWi8k7EBwnWaUMusJqGm84_p6h1ZBoQb9_DQY2PvjQqpf68vKIzWfx2CPL9XvWjvHXrjb-uYVwzrxJ/s320/Big+Green+Bus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445133388401138418" /></a><br />It’s the little things:<br /><br />Little things on tour are useful. Years ago it was a case full of cds to listen to, now it’s a video ipod, with all my entertainment needs in a tiny box. A way to stay sane, have room on the bus, and to grab a piece of calm and isolation, even when surrounded by others.<br /><br />A travel toothpaste, a travel shower gel - stocking fillers for the world’s most practical (and dullest) Christmas stocking. All things that make being in perpetual motion more containable. We don’t even have oranges on the bus, just tangerines. It all has to be small.<br /><br />Little bunks, enough space to lie down with a (small) paperback on your chest. A little light beside you, a little window to look through as the little towns pass in the night. Little luxuries.<br /><br />Small is good. The same might be said for the shows. I can sense a little momentum here now, a steadily growing audience. Loyalty and your own word-of-mouth campaigns seeing the room slowly fill up – little by little. But we can still see each other, still hear the heckles, still sing to the back of the room. A little love can go a long way.<br /><br /><br />Ten years down the line, and many of you are still here – defiantly so. Still down at the front, still hiding in the shadows at the back. Bringing your friends, your children, your parents. Still bringing to the shows the same passion and energy that I hope we, as a band, bring. Still coming with expectation, with hope. Still part of this communication that is live music.<br /><br />A little group of friends, playing little rooms, enjoying a little evening’s entertainment, sharing little exchanges, hopefully making a little difference to all our lives. <br /><br />And that is no small thing.<br /><br />Thank you.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-36044778521292296622010-01-14T01:42:00.002+00:002010-01-14T01:44:36.890+00:00Free Download of New SongHello all - as of 10am this morning, Thursday, you'll be able to download a free song from my new album "The Alphabet of Hurricanes" here: <a href="http://www.alphabetofhurricanes.com/">http://www.alphabetofhurricanes.com/</a><br /><br />Also there's a video clip here: <a href="http://www.muzu.tv/tommcrae?country=fr">http://www.muzu.tv/tommcrae?country=fr</a><br /><br />I might confess to being ever so slightly excited about giving you a sneak preview of one of my favourite tracks from the album.... but I must maintain my cynical exterior if only for continuity purposes. But I really like the song, hope you do too.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-32199369183897004012010-01-05T11:06:00.003+00:002010-01-05T11:21:59.717+00:00Alphabet of Hurricanes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPmahZLPYRQn-ZG1TYReo9lgvAKdWR_zpLww7m1tN6RX59UxiMwBIbZ5-cKyvN-QRiVUMmG_MJ2VMB-NYGCcVZyT_T0nQbBT1jJfVpsICz5jimfy7-A3Ui2B2J9fFnYYn_CfaozE91ReY/s1600-h/TomLeanRedUmbrella.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPmahZLPYRQn-ZG1TYReo9lgvAKdWR_zpLww7m1tN6RX59UxiMwBIbZ5-cKyvN-QRiVUMmG_MJ2VMB-NYGCcVZyT_T0nQbBT1jJfVpsICz5jimfy7-A3Ui2B2J9fFnYYn_CfaozE91ReY/s320/TomLeanRedUmbrella.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423212801690086930" /></a><br /><br /><br />After your wise, funny, critical, thoughtful and occasionally absurd advice for my press release, I thought I'd share with you what poet <a href="http://www.simonarmitage.com/">Simon Armitage</a> wrote about the new record. <br /><br />I know it's a bit unfair, especially as you haven't heard the album yet, although there is a free download in the offing! But hopefully you'll be as pleased as I was, as Simon is a hero of mine. It also gave me something to show my family, who still think I work at a donkey sanctuary or something, and are of the opinion that at 40 I should have a real job by now. I especially agree with the opening line - I think he captured me perfectly and with such economy.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Alphabet of Hurricanes</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Tom McRae is a smart guy. I’m not just talking about the natty suit-jacket and waistcoat he’s wearing on the cover of his new album The Alphabet of Hurricanes, or the neat way he seems to be goading the dark skies by holding a knackered red brolly, like a storm-battered poppy, to the approaching tempest. I’m talking about the records he makes, and their unapologetic intelligence in a world where popular music has pawned its soul to the television schedules and the light entertainment industry. For four albums and the best part of a decade McRae has followed his own star, gone his own way, been true to those convictions laid down at the very beginning and loyal to his own distinctive brand of song-writing. He believes in language, not just words, and he trusts the silences that sometimes appear in songs – those gaps which open up between verses or even between notes, into which our imaginations pour. Yes there are touchstones: Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Dylan, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Vic Chestnutt, but they’re stepping off points rather than destinations, and what McRae shares with them is the idea of song as an art form. In fact craft might be a more appropriate word as far as McRae is concerned: the song as a kind of craft in which we might float or sail, and the craft required to construct such a vessel.<br />And now there’s album number five. But what is The Alphabet of Hurricanes? Well, it’s a shipping-forecast of memory, a lexicon of the soul’s meteorology, a Rosetta Stone in the shape of a heart. From Still Love You with its scratchy ukulele and thinned-out voice, like a song through a pinhole-camera, if you can imagine how that would sound. To A is For… with it’s snake-charming, side-winding, fist-strangled clarinets. To Won’t Lie which comes into town under a sombrero on a slow brown donkey with tumbleweed at its heels, and takes a seat next to the band at the back of the saloon, and starts doing its thing until everyone in the bar stops fighting and drinking and starts listening and singing and waltzing. To Summer of John Wayne with its dark piano and minor chords, which has the feel of a slowly resolving black and white photograph on a mantelpiece or an old cine film with the end of the reel ticking away. To the gospel roundelay of Told My Troubles To The River. To the dusk-lit American Spirit, a song sung from the edge of the known world as the sun halves itself in the ocean and McRae’s shipwrecked voice breaks the surface of the water. To the double-tracked Please, which evolves from a toe-tap to a knees-up to a full-blooded stomp and a plea for release, the singer telling us that he doesn’t care anymore when we know damn well that he does. To Out Of The Walls where a songs sits down at the piano while everyone else is asleep and makes its midnight confession, and madness is at the door, and moonlight is at the window, and the song goes on reverberating through the wires and the keys long after the lid has been closed and the light’s gone out and the room stands empty. To the finger-clicking, hand-clapping Me and Stetson which gets us back on our feet again, a guitar line like a mosquito buzzing around in the background, a horn section to blow your hat off, the voice jumping about in a locked trunk with a megaphone and a dictionary before the ambulance arrives. To Best Winter, simple, beautiful, spare, terse, honest, intimate, a public declaration of private matters, a particular examination of universal concerns, handing on to the unravelling storyline of Fifteen Miles Downriver which begins with the unreliable clasp of snakeskin bracelet and ends mid-ocean, middle of nowhere, back of beyond, happy to drift but with one eye on the possibility of land, plotting a course with one of the best lyrics I’ve heard in years.<br /> These are ghost songs by one of our best living song-writers. The world needs more Tom McRae. And, as luck would have it, here it is.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Simon Armitage</span></span>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-47673404599132342172009-11-24T11:11:00.010+00:002009-11-24T12:49:48.626+00:00HELP!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJPTGJEertWk-ED5j6oo_FSBcauIIkp5YihTGgLTvhYFhlwkbMwfnJw-3OXhx9jxJCs8sn1MZ-yKHXmsuJ2g74l-flVgcWwDrXOeXoSQpstWcMskVooBlni4kowKXHUSNdWT4ruUOcXW3/s1600/Journalist+A.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJPTGJEertWk-ED5j6oo_FSBcauIIkp5YihTGgLTvhYFhlwkbMwfnJw-3OXhx9jxJCs8sn1MZ-yKHXmsuJ2g74l-flVgcWwDrXOeXoSQpstWcMskVooBlni4kowKXHUSNdWT4ruUOcXW3/s320/Journalist+A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407651156645351634" /></a><br /><br />So - having signed to ace label, <a href="http://www.cookingvinyl.com/">Cooking Vinyl</a>... it's time to play the self-promotion game and honour their commitment to me... and my own commitment to my music. And yes, even at 40 I'm still ambitious - although frankly once you've been on Buzzcocks what's left? <br /><br />And yet, and yet...I'm uncomfortable. The British music press has the attention span of a mayfly whose <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methylphenidate">ritalin</a> has just run out, and as it can't or won't write about someone for their music alone - I find myself struggling for suggestions as to how to fool journalists into actually giving me some press coverage.<br /><br /> How this normally works - and look away now if you're sensitive - is that you buy advertising space in a magazine or newspaper. The amount of ad space you buy corresponds to how much editorial they print (or if your song goes on the covermount cd). That's how the world works, you bribe people. But we can't afford that.<br /><br /> Ever wondered why album of the month is always the one with the biggest ad campaign? Ever wondered why film magazines tend to give even appalling films decent reviews? Turn the page and see whose advertising pays the wages of everyone in the building. <br /><br />So for those of you who thought Kennedy was killed by a lone assassin or that the Pope is God's appointed representative on earth, sorry to disappoint you. For the rest of you, sorry for teaching you all to suck eggs. It's the way the world is, best not to complain but to get down in the trenches and try and come up with something, if it's all a stupid game, why not have fun playing it?<br /><br />So, what I need - and I'm serious (even though your replies don't have to be)are suggestions for what I should put in my press release. The world's greatest living poet (<a href="http://www.simonarmitage.com/">Simon Armitage </a>- not up for debate) has kindly agreed to write my potted biography, but in the absence of a drug habit (or fake one, see picture below) or dead super model in my closet - I can't think of an angle.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqTBgmpAFiZUsiBcnlAZbFxw7gOLBvAVW5TtYgT4cUYVwPwR-97v-aZtVjPVgWa8oBEmbi6Va_y_tmc8nQTjCEH53vW9mykvnLZuMd2uw-lMVlsHNbe6-HF1Wxano4K8oxn36wGZkSqwE/s1600/keane_468x3671.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqTBgmpAFiZUsiBcnlAZbFxw7gOLBvAVW5TtYgT4cUYVwPwR-97v-aZtVjPVgWa8oBEmbi6Va_y_tmc8nQTjCEH53vW9mykvnLZuMd2uw-lMVlsHNbe6-HF1Wxano4K8oxn36wGZkSqwE/s320/keane_468x3671.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407635668425592706" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">(one of these guys may have had a coke habit, but it sure ain't the guy in the middle)</span><br /><br />I'm sorry Keane fans. Really. Sorry. <br /><br />Apologies if I sound a trifle jaded, but this tired old dance of trying to get some press attention makes me irritable. I know just making music isn't enough, I know Leona Lewis is far, far prettier, I know Jedward are funny, I know music is slipping in its cultural significance now it's free - but surely, surely, there must be something to write about someone like me?<br /><br />So, help me out - this is what I have so far.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">40-yr-old singer-songwriter releases fifth album, quite good live, just passed driving test.<br /></span>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com65tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-15265052941252535652009-11-01T11:51:00.004+00:002009-11-19T13:05:46.466+00:00Jail Guitar Doors<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUGHDe8AGt2DPe3Y0lfpYaCup0e40XiUMX0F8RGYWcR_KQq2xz-KcXfEVYeTka9Hw3zEolcmlK5UkQmY9jKXWGUu6lR0gKfFe61BZuhQNFmJQi4NmdMzjHs1AjgMwnlwsN_wS5RY5aNt8/s1600-h/-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUGHDe8AGt2DPe3Y0lfpYaCup0e40XiUMX0F8RGYWcR_KQq2xz-KcXfEVYeTka9Hw3zEolcmlK5UkQmY9jKXWGUu6lR0gKfFe61BZuhQNFmJQi4NmdMzjHs1AjgMwnlwsN_wS5RY5aNt8/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399115562442397458" /></a><br />Occasionally among the countless gigs, long journeys, delayed flights and repetitive days of bitter disappointment and frustration, there are exceptional moments which shine like gold in the river mud. Days which take you out of yourself, remind you of your good fortune and help you to treasure the things that are so often taken for granted. There isn't going to be the usual bathos or failed witticism at this point, just a rare instance of sincerity.<br /><br /> A few weeks ago I was invited to play a few songs for some inmates at a Young Offenders Institute in Wetherby, Yorkshire (alright, insert your captive audience gags here if you must but let's move on swiftly) as part of the <a href="http://www.jailguitardoors.org.uk/">Jail Guitar Doors</a> scheme, by which prisoners and young offenders are given access to guitars, as a means of self-expression, self-respect and rehabilitation. You can read up on the scheme by clicking the link, it was set up by one of my heroes, Billy Bragg, to honour the memory of one of his, Joe Strummer. <br /><br />When you're asked to do something like that, it doesn't take a second to say yes and how soon? Music means more than the X Factor and its evil twins (I mean similar shows, not the current Frankenstein's monster that is Jedward), and it has a much more vibrant place in life than the clogged I-pod or bored Guitar Hero would currently suggest. <br /><br />Music is at it's most visceral and raw when it's played by people solely for their own amusement, as they come to grips with learning an instrument, or jamming alongside other people for the first time. So seeing these teenagers play their own songs, after they'd politely sat through mine and even performed their own version of How The West Was Won, (complete with additional middle 8 rap) - is easily one of the most extraordinary experiences in my life to date. It's not a good look, by the way, for a 40 yr old to be choking back the tears listening to his own song performed by a bunch of teenagers in the recreation area of a Yorkshire prison, so that's something else I've learned.<br /><br />I played a few songs, we talked about songwriting, they played some recordings they'd made, questions were asked from both sides, and I was given a tour of the prison by my amazing hosts. More of them later. And for any Daily Mail readers who may have strayed here, it is a prison. The cells are small, the doors are locked and there are bars on the window. It's not a holiday camp funded by the tax payer. It exists for a reason, but Wetherby also wants to give these kids (for kids they are) a chance at something more. Music may not be the most practical of careers these days, but anything that makes you more self-aware and self-confident informs every other aspect of your life, as well as having the more immediate rewards of having made something from nothing, carved sound from silence.<br /><br />Whatever it has become for me over the years, this was reaffirmation of what music is in it's most basic form. It's the perfect way to express the inexpressible. And if you think that sounds like the worst solecism, you have clearly never sung at the top of your voice or tried to wring a tune out of an instrument by sheer force of will.<br /><br /> I can only tell you what I got from the experience, I'm not about to speak on behalf of the inmates. I hope they got something from it. They're inside for many reasons, none of them my business, and whatever solace can be gained from playing guitar, or perspective achieved from writing a song, I hope it's theirs for the taking. But they gave me something, and they re-ignited something inside me, a pure passion just for playing, just for hearing the notes, just for feeling the strings under your fingers - no other outcome attached, no expectation, and no reward other than sound.<br /><br />Thanks then to Stephen Bielby and the staff who took great care of me, and whose dedication has meant that music classes are now an every day part of life at the prison. It's people like this that you rarely read about in the press, we only get the horror stories, not the news of good people, doing good things every day to improve the lives of others. And giving young offenders a chance at something more than a life of crime may not be the most glamorous profession, but that day, with those lads felt like the most rock and roll thing I've ever done.<br /><br /><br />P.S And those of you who came to the show in Sheffield the other day, your ticket money contributed to buying 6 more guitars for the scheme. So thank you.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-78494004633360256052009-09-07T13:26:00.005+01:002009-09-07T14:01:50.022+01:00Ask Tom # 5049<span style="font-weight:bold;">Get rid of the beard..you looked horrible at Living Room and the wedding pictures while you can have such a beautiful face with great hair.. Fine if you're happy with it but don't blame the world if your new album doesn't do anything, it isn't only about the songs/voice you know..<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Amelie</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Thank you for comments, Amelie - It's always nice to return home after a couple of gigs to read a review or two. Have you ever seen the Gary Larson cartoon I reproduce here illegally (what the hell, we're all freetards now)? It reveals an insight into the ego of the artist as well as the mind of a dog - two not dissimilar concepts. <br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTNwwFgmvwor2Uc-Xz7ILKJAOKsHQm7KPUnIPyEwQzXukrORVae_fQxB_AZyGIxEpb4KLhX2yMmP4u_Wm5COs3FO0I6MrCnlA49KV75xBD6ZzdXUkdaOtZOv82fy3F-3VgSMQsMm8DpPb/s1600-h/larson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTNwwFgmvwor2Uc-Xz7ILKJAOKsHQm7KPUnIPyEwQzXukrORVae_fQxB_AZyGIxEpb4KLhX2yMmP4u_Wm5COs3FO0I6MrCnlA49KV75xBD6ZzdXUkdaOtZOv82fy3F-3VgSMQsMm8DpPb/s320/larson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378706405562393986" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">All my eyes saw when I read your commment, therefore, was "I have such a beautiful face with great hair". Thank you. It means a lot. To a man of my age. <br /><br />P.S. I did actually read a bit further, and I also thank you for the advice concerning the future marketing of my music - however, I have long-since stopped blaming the world for many things, let alone the failure of my music to reach a huge audience. One day, Amelie, one day... it is only a matter of time.<br /><br /> I have come to quite like the world, actually, the bits of it I choose to look at anyway. Which includes you, Amelie. You came to my shows, and took the trouble to write me a note and search out pictures of me at a wedding on the internet (the pictures were on the internet - not the wedding, that would be plain weird)... and your note also kindly included grooming tips. This shows you care deeply, for which I really am grateful, and possibly - somewhat surprisingly - I really do like you a lot. Whoever you are.<br /><br /> I shall endeavour in many ways to never let you down, Amelie...especially in my music and my live performance.... although I may just keep the facial hair to annoy you a wee bit longer. Not paying too much attention to others is a prerequisite of survival in my job, and possibly yours too. As the Zen Master said to the novice - "it is always sensible to ignore advice, even this."<br /><br />Yours<br /><br />Tom</span>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-4847295477834930422009-07-21T12:56:00.040+01:002009-07-21T23:50:36.116+01:00Ask Tom # 5031<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Straight to the point - (and we don't want to seem shallow and superficial), but what the heck is happening with the barnet? Got it cut yet? <br /><br />shazzadean</span><br /><br /></span><br />Good grief, you make 5 albums, struggle to take your music to the masses, live the dedicated life of the true artist, and all they want to know about is your hair. This is but one of the many hair related questions submitted over the years.<br /><br />But the question has been asked, and rather than shirk the challenge of an in depth answer, I have instead decided to take you on a journey through the styles - if such they can be called - that I have sported through the years.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#1</span> Not many options available to me at this point, although what I lacked in tonsorial flare I easily made up for with a frankly awesome choice of shorts. Notice if you will the slightly sour face, the sucking on a lemon expression, due mainly to the fact I'm sucking on a lemon. Either that or there has been a catastrophic failure of early '70s nappy technology.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq3aNTVT1zjJ5D4Y0xokrL822O5dGkneqW6g7Clzw50Yc428TfYen-_pIw-eagLNr880ONKODdlhBXV0BcmQBHlmMQ76uLmIuMs0PQnWAQZ8wUvYtDf19xOl5-mujfVHxUdTJ3qs6lvNxK/s1600-h/tomboy3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq3aNTVT1zjJ5D4Y0xokrL822O5dGkneqW6g7Clzw50Yc428TfYen-_pIw-eagLNr880ONKODdlhBXV0BcmQBHlmMQ76uLmIuMs0PQnWAQZ8wUvYtDf19xOl5-mujfVHxUdTJ3qs6lvNxK/s320/tomboy3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360910890332827394" border="0"></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#2</span> Skipping forward a few years, I am clearly already working on the slightly longer look for the more outré gentleman, although still struggling with the exact angle at which to cut the fringe for maximum dork factor. I can only imagine my mother was wielding the scissors. See how I was working the cherubic look, set off magnificently by my maroon blouse. Quite the heartbreaker.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq54q0WpdGt05K6AM3Ua4-71_OdleAgPxYtnar51N7HnW8WBkL8vlTJ5JaXqaF0-eIO3UD00rwHcFSgW7MNcQIM7nc4zV-xQ7i9N9Xay-Ur9qXtu2WpSwSp0Ri0NlMpQzpadFVZ4pbHiKX/s1600-h/tomboy1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq54q0WpdGt05K6AM3Ua4-71_OdleAgPxYtnar51N7HnW8WBkL8vlTJ5JaXqaF0-eIO3UD00rwHcFSgW7MNcQIM7nc4zV-xQ7i9N9Xay-Ur9qXtu2WpSwSp0Ri0NlMpQzpadFVZ4pbHiKX/s320/tomboy1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360881927044410690" border="0"></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#3</span> A minor lapse in sartorial judgement led to a period of self-disgust, as evinced by the McRae tartan tie and red tank top. There was only one way to truly carry off this look, and that was by grabbing the nearest bowl and trimming round it. With that hair and those teeth, no one even remembers the clothes. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtW4Zii1sGojTZ5I78qozIh7F7zhiicA68RXER0UI4ufDv_0bgJ1mCLnSmDan5Si3PIiEYJon8XV6j9Box9z7hoykdXQOAqr6JpfAVx4peTAvUpLdsACsrAntgjhKd1M1r_47EzfOTL3P/s1600-h/tomboy2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtW4Zii1sGojTZ5I78qozIh7F7zhiicA68RXER0UI4ufDv_0bgJ1mCLnSmDan5Si3PIiEYJon8XV6j9Box9z7hoykdXQOAqr6JpfAVx4peTAvUpLdsACsrAntgjhKd1M1r_47EzfOTL3P/s320/tomboy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360914121740366370" border="0"></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#4</span> The teenage years can be awkward for anyone, but I have made a bold statement with spiky blond hair contrasting splendidly with my black digital watch. The languid posture clearly showing a maturing confidence, combined with an almost fatal inability to stand up in those jeans.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAA86mPRR5IrokihFeb6ZyrcTB4k1OZqVnE0cGLHx4HSeVsr27cIFYbHHvn3NVc6jX5WRM5ZEx6AqA6YMB28hcLFcf_1d_LtivfJt8EsFNCJFibM3fgo6S-lKHsEL6Kdtvp3hilmtiPixi/s1600-h/tomboy5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAA86mPRR5IrokihFeb6ZyrcTB4k1OZqVnE0cGLHx4HSeVsr27cIFYbHHvn3NVc6jX5WRM5ZEx6AqA6YMB28hcLFcf_1d_LtivfJt8EsFNCJFibM3fgo6S-lKHsEL6Kdtvp3hilmtiPixi/s320/tomboy5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360915601690200146" border="0"></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#5</span> Notice in this next picture of one of my earlier bands, how I am already beginning to commit to the idea of "hair as vital comedy tool". I like to think I was breaking new ground in this area, although if this photo is anything to go by, one or two of the others may have been ahead of me. The all-white look was also years ahead of its time, as was the use of cane furniture as a serious prop. Today's bands could learn a thing or two from this picture. Mainly what not to do at any cost.<br /><br /> Yes, isn't the guy top left rather good looking. Of course, that's why he had to go. There will be more of him on my upcoming autoblography, a section on the new, lovingly homemade site we are close to getting on line.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBlJh_gqIgTL_Y1L8kknbVHf3d6Y4_MYQzWX32KqCAEKhz1WWlxLvVn_YKzPvME90ZzV5n5vnfGohWJgjW3DNHmkeXlTZlh6QlVZGx6apTB_XnJm-Ub1wcpmk7AMKMU1-SBWfzHIYb6NDB/s1600-h/orchid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBlJh_gqIgTL_Y1L8kknbVHf3d6Y4_MYQzWX32KqCAEKhz1WWlxLvVn_YKzPvME90ZzV5n5vnfGohWJgjW3DNHmkeXlTZlh6QlVZGx6apTB_XnJm-Ub1wcpmk7AMKMU1-SBWfzHIYb6NDB/s320/orchid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361001484953523266" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#6</span> It was nothing short of a tragedy then, having invested much time and effort into researching the most ridiculous hair cuts over the years, when my first label began to insist on new strategies for the barnet. They wanted it longer, shorter, blonder, darker... like all record labels they didn't know what they wanted, they just knew it wasn't what they had. So in typical rebellious fashion, I hacked it all off and this was the result. Like Samson before me, losing my hair meant losing my strength, and all the effort of looking cool has clearly exhausted me and I have fallen asleep. Either that or someone has made me listen to Lily Allen and completely sapped my will to live.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvBKgppe9JONCuEZVxKnVPscL_joZQ7T1cZz6Bdb_NkaVL4uis2Wy8UlU5zGJMMffs-g88axq-slIpBjKpyV4khp_81VXoOyQAWrxb_Ki2tGE4bJ6ayXQbamDEi1sB1hyU0itJYBBzifu/s1600-h/shorthairtom1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvBKgppe9JONCuEZVxKnVPscL_joZQ7T1cZz6Bdb_NkaVL4uis2Wy8UlU5zGJMMffs-g88axq-slIpBjKpyV4khp_81VXoOyQAWrxb_Ki2tGE4bJ6ayXQbamDEi1sB1hyU0itJYBBzifu/s320/shorthairtom1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361010097970956722" border="0"></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheT5ayDM_gehR_w9FBaLyNORg-d1w14MBW_fwQIc5h4JC6EVjKx5OfLOWUYvSktrZkIWbeeS_BC_7C4XMC_RtEV3AptX6LtaRRCuUzYKwDjia0mMyElNCl_fTpKti5Cj5NH16QEP51xSyi/s1600-h/TomLeanRedUmbrella.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheT5ayDM_gehR_w9FBaLyNORg-d1w14MBW_fwQIc5h4JC6EVjKx5OfLOWUYvSktrZkIWbeeS_BC_7C4XMC_RtEV3AptX6LtaRRCuUzYKwDjia0mMyElNCl_fTpKti5Cj5NH16QEP51xSyi/s320/TomLeanRedUmbrella.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361038480592666226" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#7</span> And now, back to the present day, as the hair turns a majestic shade of grey, if only in the sparse beard, and we see the return of the slightly confused, indeterminate hair length, that hints at my dogged resistance to fashion, and my preference for the timeless look of the devil-may-care, too lazy to go to the hairdresser, older gent still carving out a career in the youth obsessed world of music. It is, I'm sure you agree, a look that I have at least made my own. Although apparently, as always, I am starting to subtly influence the next generation. Poor fools.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzqllDPAaxj9WMHAqJhHIouiX17d_ZGpyeivqeo08oPSUjW6DBqNuddOxYCo3sE52eFcZqFWpcLyN3NWDCFqA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-16261100261663836892009-07-05T12:53:00.003+01:002009-07-05T13:48:32.040+01:00Five's Alive<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGgpxEfkd46JP7X4MxtMoeRO10_AC8zXfDz7KIiuvNHC9N-PGdpBPD4Z0Fiw3OKo8tarfoIUfyZ68if8c8GDQyEMaweTgmzNsF9PJBS9FReayJ7MPt5ld3tVQNOzXups14J14Tp_hcxCs/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 99px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGgpxEfkd46JP7X4MxtMoeRO10_AC8zXfDz7KIiuvNHC9N-PGdpBPD4Z0Fiw3OKo8tarfoIUfyZ68if8c8GDQyEMaweTgmzNsF9PJBS9FReayJ7MPt5ld3tVQNOzXups14J14Tp_hcxCs/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354956173735980466" /></a><br />Finally, it is done. Album #5 is officially finished. Making a record is a bit like baking a cake (no, it isn't in any way remotely like baking a cake, unless your cake cost you thousands of pounds to make, isn't appreciated by anyone - even close relatives - and is eventually given away slightly stale at jumble sales) but bear with me, I've started this analogy so I'm going to finish it.<br /><br />Once you have spent time gathering the ingredients; a pound of finely sifted experience; a few drops of bitter disappointment; the zest of renewed self-belief; and some sultanas... the album baking process unfolds slowly over time, changing slightly with each added ingredient, until finally, with your album starting to resemble the finished product, it is sent for the final mastering process.<br /><br />At any stage something could go wrong, you could balls up the recording, the mixing, the track order (who apart from me actually listens to albums in order these days?) and finally the mastering. Assuming that you've actually started with half decent songs in the first place.<br /><br />It is a stressful time. Will the cake rise? Are the ingredients better than the whole, will it come back from the bakery with "happy birthday, Tim" written in pink icing? Will the analogy you've embarked upon ever make sense?<br /><br />But after many months (years when you include the writing period) your album/cake is finally finished, you can sit and stare at it while it cools on the shelf, hoping that maybe this is the cake the public have been waiting for. The one that will change the course of history, the one that will have cookery writers and celebrity chefs knocking down your door for an interview, or at least enable you to take the cake on the road, slicing it up night after night for the delectation of cake lovers everywhere.<br /><br />It is also a time when your sanity is stretched thin, and those close to you worry that you are beginning to confuse making records with baking cakes. Apparently it can happen.<br /><br />Fortunately for me then, that there is no time to dwell on this, as album part 2 requires attention, and the songs that were left off part one find a home on the sequel, and the process begins all over again. It's already been a good summer (bearing in mind I hate summer and all that goes with it, give me a good winter any time), I have a tour to look forward to, the occasional fishing trip, and some gigs to see.<br /><br />It is vital at this point to start listening to music again, without it being a technical exercise. To enjoy the cake as it were, without tasting the baking powder and suet. ( I don't really make cakes, but those sound plausible ingredients). So if anyone has any recommendations new or old, I would appreciate it. I watched Glastonbury and thought it was the best line up ever. Of course, I would like to have played, I have fond memories of my time on the other stage, back in 1948, shortly after the war, when times were hard but we were happy. Much like today. Except for the happy bit.<br /><br />So, I hope you're having a good summer, at some point I'll start divulging things about the new record (and let's face it, 45 seconds after we've sent it to the first journalist it'll be online somewhere) and then we can once more debate the quality of the cake, how it compares to other cakes I've made, and does the world really need any more of my cakes. That sort of thing.<br /><br />My current musical recommendations are: Kevin Devine, Brother's Blood. Not just 'cos he's a mate but it's really great songwriting. And anything by Leadbelly, especially Laura. My favourite track of the last year.<br /><br />I'm reading lots of political memoirs, readying myself for the inevitable Tory victory that will send me deeper into middle-aged depression, and I particularly recommend Chris Mullin "A View From The Foothills".<br /><br />I'm still continually watching the "West Wing" on loop, as nothing has ever bettered this show - despite what journalists tell us. Yes "The Wire" is good, but you know, not that good.<br /><br />Oh, and I'm working on a song that may require your help at the shows. I'll keep you posted. Right, I'm off to watch Federer dispatch Roddick in 3 sets. Tennis is almost like sport. Enjoy your Sunday.<br /><br />P.S Speaking of Wimbledon, I've just remembered that my actual 5th birthday cake was in the shape of Great Uncle Bulgaria from the Wombles. Daddy had just come back from the Crimea and what with the South Sea Bubble bursting, we had to make do with...... ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzTom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-19895321620463941862009-06-14T13:25:00.004+01:002009-06-14T14:03:50.902+01:00Brian Wright<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTkKji2H7rxqnEWR2wJSreK9yYFVvqpRZ_ryH7SZ3ebjZrOkzMi4xSmvBvFYNCSzrU-lkI4O8ANLejYu7qxPMl6O4UfErQko_EvDzsSe0SxHyyx_RJqn-zhEY-1pnlcR-IDflvWbNnR2D/s1600-h/CIMG1585.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTkKji2H7rxqnEWR2wJSreK9yYFVvqpRZ_ryH7SZ3ebjZrOkzMi4xSmvBvFYNCSzrU-lkI4O8ANLejYu7qxPMl6O4UfErQko_EvDzsSe0SxHyyx_RJqn-zhEY-1pnlcR-IDflvWbNnR2D/s320/CIMG1585.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347158698092571746" /></a><br />As I sit in the west wing of McRae Towers, the gentle lilt of birdsong disturbed only by the occasional gunfire of a paedophile-chasing mob, and the ear-splitting squeals of a pitbull tearing the face off a toddler, I’m driven to wonder how we let the poverty gap get so wide under a supposedly Labour government, and how it is I’m supposed to make it to the off-licence for my breakfast binge drinking session without being mugged by a knife-wielding eight-year-old. Girl. <br /><br />But then I put down the newspaper and realise that as we age, the gap that widens with even greater speed than the poverty gap, is the perception gap between the world we live in and the world the media tell us we live in.<br /><br />As a trainee journalist (a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away) I remember snidely laughing (I majored in it) at a BBC newsreader who had dared to suggest that there should be more positive stories in the news, maybe about cats and that sort of thing. Well, now I see his point. <br /><br />In a world apparently gone to shit, with all evidence of justice about as rare as reasoned argument from a Christian, it’s time we had some good news. In a world without hope it is truly the visionary who stands up and says “Enough is Enough”. For goodness sake people, I’ve had songs on Holby City and Hollyoaks all in the same week. Do you not now see that literally anything…ANYTHING is possible?<br /><br />It is in that gospel spirit of good news (is that tautology?) that I would like to take this opportunity to formally announce that the support for this tour will be provided by the amazing Brian Wright. After much negotiation, a substantial transfer fee rising into the low one figures, I have finally found my Mr Wright. <br /><br />Thank you to all of you who offered your services - and keep on asking because in this day and age we all have to shout a bit to be heard – but for now the slot is filled.<br /><br />Many of you will remember Brian from the Hotel Café shows, or know him in his own right as a song-writer extraordinaire, or perhaps just as the guy with the beard. Whether you know him or are yet to get acquainted, be assured his presence on the tour will make this extra special. <br /><br />He has also graciously agreed to play in my band, which will be the biggest band I have toured with to date. It is going to be a great tour.<br /><br />Tickets are selling fast for the London Scala show by the way, so to avoid disappointment and subsequent unseemly rioting (just look what happened in Iran when they found out I’d come second in the finale of Tehran’s Got Talent) be sure to get yours soon.<br /><br />Find out more about Brian Wright here:<br /> <a href="http://www.myspace.com/thewacotragedies">http://www.myspace.com/thewacotragedies</a><br /><br />The fishing season starts at midnight on Monday. I’m just saying. You know, if you cared. Those of you looking for style tips, my clothing range and perfume is coming soon.<br /> Let the current crop of singer-songwriters worry about being cool and rock and roll. I can’t stand up without grunting these days.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-45496877623469735722009-06-02T18:28:00.008+01:002009-06-02T19:48:56.603+01:00Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks!Ahem.<br /><br />Hello.<br /><br />Anybody there?<br /><br />I went away for a while.<br /><br />But now I'm back.<br /><br />Like the eponymous hero of Superman 2 I traded my powers to be able to love like a human, and for a while I forgot about the affairs of the world and crime fighting.... and stuff. Although I kept wearing my pants on the outside... (that's underpants for you Americans).<br /><br />But I see that without me the world has taken a turn to negative town, with democracy itself in peril. Honestly, you take your eyes off the baby for a second and it's got the cat by the tail and it's dangling it out the broken window over a flaming tar pit crawling with rabid crocodile and flying pirhanas - or other toddler/democracy/hydrophobic/winged fish/ reptile-related metaphors you may have of your own that make more sense.<br /><br />I apologise. I'm tired. I've been writing and recording this album for three years, it is intended as an album in two parts. A volume One and a Volume Two. Not a double album you understand. That's something altogether different. And expensive.<br /><br />It has taken quite a while to finish part one. I wanted to take some time away from the road to concentrate on writing and recording - to prove some things to myself, and to prove that I could sit still for more than a week.<br /><br />But I am bored of sitting still. It will soon be time to go back to the Fortress of Solitude and get some advice from a fat, dead, Marlon Brando (there's an 0845 number for those of you who can't make the trip) and to once more take to the skies in my dashing cape. And pants.<br /><br />I seriously have no idea what I'm saying now. But you get the gist.<br /><br />Album. Part one. Finished. Release date to be confirmed, but I'm expecting September, just before the tour, so you have a long hot summer to enjoy yourselves before I drag you kicking and screaming into my tempestuous universe.<br /><br />We'll be getting the website into shape soon, along with all the other preparations for the release of the record - if I say it out loud enough times it must surely come to pass. <br /><br />The musical landscape has altered dramatically over the last few years, but change is good. It must be embraced, wined and dined and danced with gently to flickering candle light, for longing for the old days and the old ways is the path of the dead man. Although to be fair we did dress better in earlier times. Skinny jeans? People, people.... what are we thinking?<br /><br />In short, who the hell knows how any of this goes any more?<br /><br />These are dark, dangerous, times, with doubtless many more storms ahead. But we will face them together, although I may be slightly behind you and to one side... I'm at an age where the wind fair whips through me.<br /><br />Not that sort of wind.<br /><br />Finally then, let us resort to art - the one true religion - for our philosophical, moral and spiritual guidance when all else fails. You may even like to take a moment and go outside and shout the following at the night sky, or traffic wardens. If you listen carefully you might just hear others doing the same, raising our voices in united defiance.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!<br />You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout<br />Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks!<br />You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,<br />Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,<br />Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,<br />Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world!"<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span></span><br />Yep, do that and more. <br /><br />There's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes... but I've got a big umbrella and I'm more than happy to share.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-9441558215475616592009-03-26T10:30:00.006+00:002009-03-26T10:51:14.356+00:00No Opinion Fridays<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbmeuaM4QFnWzvqRTx6m01rqR0R7wyTUrJO5EJHlA2VK1IT-6WaAcjSBXItsuR3gs_CQaa6niiM6nhh5PB0imZj4GK6soFBCQdSwyLcTF95xUH0d5avdb-Lu1YwqkPDkSRYjfWkVUxAQL/s1600-h/images-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 66px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbmeuaM4QFnWzvqRTx6m01rqR0R7wyTUrJO5EJHlA2VK1IT-6WaAcjSBXItsuR3gs_CQaa6niiM6nhh5PB0imZj4GK6soFBCQdSwyLcTF95xUH0d5avdb-Lu1YwqkPDkSRYjfWkVUxAQL/s320/images-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317444483314537122" /></a><br />It begins how it always begins, and it always ends the same way. In tears. Either mine or the people around me. <br /><br />How it begins is this: I read the news, or leave the house (rarely), or switch on the television or radio, or even sometimes just flick out my tongue snake-like… and the complex taste of imminent disaster is at once revealed to me, like the odour of a two day old corpse.<br /><br />What this taste forewarns, is that slowly, surely, and tragically ineluctably, AN OPINION is forming in my brain.<br /><br />Like a shadow creeping across the face of the sun, it is the harbinger of doom. Or at least a heated argument at breakfast.<br /><br />Seemingly impotent in the face of the all-consuming OPINION, I feel compelled to share it with anyone who will listen (or lacks the motor skills to leave the vicinity).<br /><br />For instance this morning, upon hearing the pronouncement by the Grand Wizard of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, that God would not intervene to save the planet from global warming, I felt an OPINION forcing it’s way towards my mouth.<br /><br />However, now that I’m 40 and affecting an air of wisdom - conferred merely by age rather than actual experience – I confronted this OPINION and by a force of will so extreme that it made my eye sockets fill with blood, I stopped this OPINION dead in its tracks.<br /><br /><br />Having achieved this minor victory, I have decided to employ this tactic more often. Not every day, maybe just one day a month. Like dress casual days, or Hawaiian shirt Fridays (don’t ask, it was a long tour), I am about to embark upon an experiment.<br /><br />On the last Friday of the month, I will express no OPINION on anything whatsoever. This may make me appear ill-informed, or apathetic, but it should go someway to restoring my self-image as a calm, rational human, rather than the vitriol-spouting demagogue I suspect I am deep down.<br /><br />I urge you to try it. When you read something about the government consulting you over the advertising of condoms but not bothering to ask whether we should go to war or not, or torture people or not, or shore up the banking system or not… instead of rising to the bait, rise instead to the challenge.<br /><br />Say nothing. Think nothing. Turn the page quickly, turn off the radio, switch to the weather channel. Express not the merest hint of outrage. <br /><br />Do you think the world really needs another OPINION? No, the world now has a surfeit of opinions, roughly to the tune of 7 billion. Like my vote, my opinion doesn’t matter.<br /><br />Give it a go. It will if nothing else make you seem enigmatic for about an hour. As if you have more important things going on than worrying about a celebrity wedding, or… I don’t know… a war or famine or something.<br /><br />I for one feel much better about <span style="font-style:italic;">NOT</span> having actually expressed the opinion that Rowan Williams is clearly a buffoon. I can let slip a self-satisfied sigh that I <span style="font-style:italic;">DIDN'T </span>say that on past evidence the number of God’s interventions to save anything on this fucking planet look pretty fucking thin on the ground. <br /><br />I’m proud that I <span style="font-style:italic;">DIDN'T</span> shout at the top of my voice from the campus bell tower (high powered rifle by my side) that if God didn’t intervene to stop wars, famines, natural disasters, school buses crashing, or good people dying - whilst simultaneously ensuring that bad people suffer - at any other fucking time in fucking history, then he as sure as hell isn’t going to fucking start now, you fucking fuckwit of a sky fairy-believing retard. <br /><br />Hold the front fucking page, "God to do nothing in face of catastrophe". Moron.<br /><br />No, I’m glad I didn’t say that. It would make me seem unhinged.<br /><br />Good luck with your own “No Opinion Friday” or whichever day you choose.<br /><br />Be warned, however, that on the morning of the following day, you will find yourself deluged by OPINIONS of all sorts, that are desperate to be heard. <br /><br />Thank Tim Berners-Lee then, that we have the internet. The forum for all unhinged people like us through which to share our lighter, happier sides. <br /><br />I really, really need to get out more. Or less. One of the two.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Next week: Tom goes to a kitten sanctuary (and takes a course in anger management).<br /><br />The week after that: he discusses how to write complete sentences (without the use of brackets).<br /></span>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-56449542587907134312009-03-18T23:43:00.003+00:002009-03-19T00:30:08.897+00:00Life Begins...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOUkAolBGe8_LbA2R0r41drFa852H7qjq-2zOdA03AG6gSuNXx7tFXG7KPXOkxc6mgOs3kCPe86xWiv5FXNiKDyl4NTtqEgHauJ5ZXMTn2ph-7eE2k7JHYSo8SmmzVvyCKNJe2-NWLJwZN/s1600-h/tom+studio1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOUkAolBGe8_LbA2R0r41drFa852H7qjq-2zOdA03AG6gSuNXx7tFXG7KPXOkxc6mgOs3kCPe86xWiv5FXNiKDyl4NTtqEgHauJ5ZXMTn2ph-7eE2k7JHYSo8SmmzVvyCKNJe2-NWLJwZN/s320/tom+studio1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314677734961299266" /></a><br />So, life begins today allegedly. We used to have a running joke in my band that I was different ages in different countries, depending on which press release the journalist was reading, or which record company was trying to persuade the world I was younger than my birth certificate stated. <br /><br />Age was never an issue for me, and if I'm supposed to feel something momentous then I don't - I'm just happy as always to be here. When I say happy, I mean happy to be alive. What you take for granted when you're twenty you cling to at twice that age.<br /><br /> I've always subscribed to the view that energy and creativity are ageless, you just have to swim against the tides of fashion as you age, but that's familiar water to me. I'm pisces after all, I may not always be in the swim, but I'm always swimming, often with all my strength.<br /><br />The last ten years have been an adventure, but so were the ten years before that and the two decades before them. Stick around long, enough good things happen. Bad too I guess, and I am luckier than many. I have seen things I never dreamed, and travelled the world, with the best of people, doing the thing I love more than anything. It has been a privilege, and one that I acknowledge every day, whilst working as hard as I can. And fishing sometimes, obviously.<br /><br />Some songs are better than others, some albums hit the target, others fly wide, some gigs... well, you know what, all the gigs are great. At least from my point of view. I get to face the wrong way in a crowd and have my voice heard above all the others. Not a week goes by when I don't dream I'm on stage, just to be able to sing at the top of my lungs. When I take time away from the road a little bit of me loses it's shine. But it always comes back when I need it. <br /><br />Forty is traditionally the age of contemplation, of assessing where we are. Mid life. Crisis and all. But my crises occur on a weekly basis, so whatever this life has got to offer in the next ten years, I hope to be here to at least witness it. <br /><br />I wrote a verse to a song called "I ain't scared of lightning" a few years ago, which I sometimes sing live, it goes "I ain't scared of lightning, I'm just looking for the thrill, so come on God, give me your best shot, I swear that I'll stand still". Well, I lied. I won't stand still, I am way to restless for that.<br /><br />So, no calming down - let's face it I was never going to make the Rock and Roll hall of fame - but also no surrender. I'm hard at work on what I think is the best record yet. I'm duty bound to say that, but surely that's the point. Our best day is today and our best work is whatever's next.<br /><br />Thank you to all of you who sent birthday wishes, we have come a long way, but we're only just getting started. There are many adventures still to come. Perhaps life does begin today after all.<br /><br />P.S This is me in the studio last week with some new band members, and taking the shot is Olli Cunningham. He'd like me to point that out. And you recognise the guy on the far left. Here's to you, my brothers in arms.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-66876626660992306032009-03-03T11:15:00.002+00:002009-03-03T11:36:49.313+00:00None of the above<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44NbF36ICknVgbhZen-vq3Ww7X595WybU7QPtT1bZwXT0I0CC-xFPTNous3A-KAw8td3uKCxhac8lyoOJWGm9XbxP4syCIh8bpRbcbbQU73fwH0W0E08Sa_s_X0brplCzkXugVL8jpFou/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44NbF36ICknVgbhZen-vq3Ww7X595WybU7QPtT1bZwXT0I0CC-xFPTNous3A-KAw8td3uKCxhac8lyoOJWGm9XbxP4syCIh8bpRbcbbQU73fwH0W0E08Sa_s_X0brplCzkXugVL8jpFou/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308923564969047858" /></a><br />I seem to have been absent for a while, busy spring cleaning, white-washing the old mole hole (that sounds so wrong) and preparing for the possibility of committing new music to tape - and this has left little time for important things like writing this blog, or typing emails of outrage to The Guardian, my MP, Thames Water, British Gas, or anyone else who will ignore me. <br /><br />Just this morning though, the usual combination of lack of sleep and too much coffee ( I wonder if they're connected) led me to send the following missive to the lovely Jenni Russell who has received several of my letters over the years. I feel it's important to retain a dialogue with the outside world, especially when one never leaves the house except to buy the paper and see which cars got burnt out this week on my street.<br /><br />Now that I'm nearly 40 I think it's allowable to use the word 'one' rather than 'I' when referring to myself, my status - whilst not totally regal - is at least approaching that of elder statesman. When I say elder statesman, I mean something like Mugabe.<br /><br />I'll be back with something close to regular blogging as the music schedule allows, but what with that, irate letter writing, obscure phonograph building and figuring out how to keep snails off my clematis (again, that sounds so wrong) there is precious little time left in the day before my afternoon nap.<br /><br />Until I have something insightful to say I shall leave you with the aforementioned letter... maybe if we all burnt our ballots there'd be revolution - or at least something to toast marshmallows with.<br /><br />You can read Jenni's piece here<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/mar/03/conservatives-david-cameron-politics"> http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/mar/03/conservatives-david-cameron-politics</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Dear Jenni, another interesting piece today, but I wonder if in your heart of hearts even someone as seemingly hopeful as yourself doesn't secretly despair that once again the merry-go-round of democracy will result in the same pathetic choice between the puppet on the left or the puppet on the right.<br /><br /> I agree it is inevitable the Conservatives will win, but it could equally be any party offering what amount to identikit campaign policies, which immediately mutate from aspirational gold to pragmatic lead once power is achieved.<br /><br /> The argument that this form of democracy is the 'least worst' of all systems, with its right to vote for which our grandparents fought and died, is looking tired and downright dangerous in a world that needs big ideas, implemented quickly before we destroy the planet, our economies and each other. Our current form of democracy amounts to a tinkering with window dressing, as the next administration will doubtless prove, with a public purse so empty that any big ideas may be beyond our ability to fund them.<br /><br />So rather than conferring a spurious legitimacy on any of the candidates by marking my ballot, I shall instead be burning it, as there is currently no move to recognise the spoiling of ballots as part of the electoral process. You may call me the naive one, knowing as we all do that decisions are made by those who show up, but I've been turning up all my adult life. To elections, to rallies, to meetings, and not once has my voice - or the voices of millions of others - been listened to. I voted in New Labour only to be taken into an illegal war, to have my civil liberties eroded, and to be made an accomplice to torture, by a party whose idea of social justice is to line the pockets of millionaire bankers.<br /><br />While our generation looks back with gratitude to our forebears knowing the battles they fought figuratively and literally for our freedom to vote, I wonder how today or tomorrow's generation will regard us. At a time when the planet is dying, when capitalism has failed to bring equality, when we have lost the ability to feed ourselves, and the desire to feed others, will they be proud and grateful that we stood in line outside a primary school to cast our ballot for Cameron or Clegg, or any other stuffed shirt - or would they rather we genuinely took a stand and said "none of the above"?<br /><br />As I watch my ballot burn I will at least know that I wasn't fooled again.<br /><br />Yours<br /><br />Tom McRae<br /><br /><br /></span><br /><br />P.S I have no idea what clematis is, or how to keep snails off it. I just listen to Radio 4 too much. I maybe old, but I'm not that old.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-825144762187833762009-02-13T11:17:00.003+00:002009-02-13T11:46:57.657+00:00Ask Tom #4012<span style="font-weight:bold;">Have you ever felt like nothing makes any sense to you, least of all yourself, that social interaction is just babbling incomprehensibly through plate glass, that everything seems to be an illusion? How do you function?<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Hmmm, now you mention it, yes. Although I prefer to think of my babbling as coming through stained glass, and therefore much prettier.<br /><br /> Everything is an illusion, except buses and trams, which are very real and can sneak up on you if you're not careful, so my advice is always look both ways.<br /><br />How do I function? I wake up and plan my day... I divide it into 24 handy segments of roughly 60 minutes, of which I will only be awake for about 9. Then I further divide those twenty-four 60 minute segments into 4 bite-sized chunks of 15. In those 4 chunks of 15 minutes, I try to make sure at least one chunk features something enjoyable, like a cup of tea or a picture of a kitten. If enough tiny chunks of the day are used in this way, I believe it's possible to function and to actually lead a fulfilled life with moments of pleasure and profound joy.<br /><br />If I actually look further ahead than that, I see a black chasm of despair so vast, bleak and depressing that I can't even dress myself.<br /><br />Now, where's my cup of tea?</span>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-13756745222817724172009-02-09T12:28:00.007+00:002009-02-10T21:28:11.134+00:00Holy Bus Batman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09nfE8PyUEF_Lb51pqoPRiB_CnWXlMJnaKJ9-aw1W93Wb404dgxsPvzfdwUgT8JSwFVasUW0U_DfTqIHr4QltaI6X4uNErZ7HO6qG-Hiex0Wa_UjNZsEKwAZpQfvv5JVBygIiFOsuSniO/s1600-h/2388550.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09nfE8PyUEF_Lb51pqoPRiB_CnWXlMJnaKJ9-aw1W93Wb404dgxsPvzfdwUgT8JSwFVasUW0U_DfTqIHr4QltaI6X4uNErZ7HO6qG-Hiex0Wa_UjNZsEKwAZpQfvv5JVBygIiFOsuSniO/s320/2388550.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301282111124995666" /></a><br /><br /><br />I read this comment piece in The weekend Guardian. <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/feb/06/religion-another-thought-for-the-day">http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/feb/06/religion-another-thought-for-the-day</a> and felt compelled to write Dr Fraser a letter.<br /><br />For no other reason than to show I'm not an angry atheist or out to ban religion, I reproduce it here. Although I did just call the Christian Party and ask for the Proof Department, and spoke for half an hour to a very sweet woman who did her level best to not be freaked out. Bless her. Not literally.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Dear Dr Fraser, I read with amusement your comment piece in The Guardian and then followed the predictable tirade on the website, as others perhaps unaware that you were playing a mischievous little joke, found themselves outraged by both sides of the argument.<br /><br /> You must have chuckled a little to yourself as atheists everywhere lined up to berate you, thus proving your point. Job well done.<br /><br /> A little word of caution, however, that by continually citing Richard Dawkins as an exemplar of atheism you risk making the same mistake as anti-religious types who conflate violent fundamentalism, with tolerant, largely harmless religious practices the world over. But I suspect you like to rattle the hornets' nest from time-to-time.<br /><br />I am no more a disciple of Dawkins than I am of more recognised religions, if I wish to hear the sigh of the eternal I can go to gallery, read a novel, or walk in nature - I feel no need to invoke a god figure to make sense of anything around me. And there are many like me, quietly going about our godless lives, slightly amused at the passions that this sort of argument provokes.<br /><br />Long may thought for the day continue, it is mild, very British and largely harmless (insert your own Church of England gag here). I hope one day sensible, non-religious observers may be allowed to join in the programme, but if not I won't howl in protest. There seems to be precious little sensible debate that takes place in the media these days, between any opposing views, let alone passionately held religious beliefs. Maybe we all need to do some evolving, or perhaps ask the intelligent designer for an upgrade. I look forward to humanity 2.0.<br /><br />All the best,<br /><br />Tom McRae<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span><br /><br />BTW - I'm not bored, or not writing and recording, I am alot. And very pleased I am with it too. It's just talking about the music makes me feel a bit weird. That and I don't sleep well. Emailing vicars can pass the time.Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7774515036350579243.post-17158953777404891082009-02-02T21:26:00.004+00:002009-02-02T22:49:54.918+00:00How I Spent My Snow Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDXlGetOjbmVNYLSqPcQKkdoplbKbRG3SfSDQrwAgH25FskFt1EO9OGSYom3tPhvGsjqy7yMqNKP1Sd3VAB6Dd5UO5fLpCUdCaLUiElvNh1_zWo9UNE8ITS4impErbJ76sjrTUcyaWKyMz/s1600-h/IMG_3564.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDXlGetOjbmVNYLSqPcQKkdoplbKbRG3SfSDQrwAgH25FskFt1EO9OGSYom3tPhvGsjqy7yMqNKP1Sd3VAB6Dd5UO5fLpCUdCaLUiElvNh1_zWo9UNE8ITS4impErbJ76sjrTUcyaWKyMz/s320/IMG_3564.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298325248959152034" border="0"></a><br />From this....I made this... it's the future of portable music. No, really. When the snow (and ice cap) melts, I'll be coming to a cave near you, providing you're above the tide line. <br /><br /><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NdeTy0mUUv8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NdeTy0mUUv8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object>Tom McRaehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11596183528810614558noreply@blogger.com26