Tuesday 31 July 2012

The Midget and The Cowboy

When I first came to this city last year, I could never hide my amazement and feeling that this city has so much to offer me.  On my first day, I tipped about 4 great buskers I had heard as I wondered through this sunlit city of smoke with a smile on my face, I felt the atmosphere and quietness welcome me.  My meeting point and H.Q is Rembrandtplein, like a mini stage, with seats all around and a water fall with a statue of Rembrandt not smiling, but disconcertingly observing the surroundings of his city.  This area has some noisy bars and coffee shops dotted around that show the football and rugby.  A place where Brits can go on holiday, but still feel they are in Britain.

You need amplification to busk there, but it is a goldmine that musicians can support themselves fully from.  Two of the buskers there, Vince and Euginio make a very good living selling ten or twenty CDs a day at 10 Uros a pop, as well as their donations which are a lot on good days, and even on bad they make more in one go than I do in a few hours at my bridge.  I have played there a few times, and at this moment, I feel ready to take a set to play there.  The physchology is different, you need to finish songs to give people the chance to applaud and donate.  I am so used to playing to passing traffic that I never finish a song, just medley it into the next one.  You don't play any longer than an hour, so as not to over do it.  The biggest drops come from when you announce it is your last song.  I play to passing traffic 2 or 3 hours at a time, but this has been perfect training for me to really expand and master my repatoire.  When I met a cellist and cajon player I had no fear whatsoever when playing with them, we hit Dam Square, Rembrandtplein, Central station and drew a crowd and great response wherever we played.  Instead of being just one guy with a guitar singing, it became a real street show that increased the money made massively (Though it worked out about the same after it was divided 3 ways).

I spend a lot of time just riding around Amsterdam, and Rembrandtplein is my sitting and meeting point.  One day this guy came up to me asking for money, and he had rats in his pocket and on his shoulder, he tried to creep me out by putting the red eyed rodent right next to me, but I wasn't scared and as I only had 5 cents in my pocket had nothing to give him except some of my bread to feed his rats.  As this was happening a busking duo were playing, the midget and the cowboy.  The midget is a blonde woman who looks beautifully viscous in her eyes.  The cowboy is a keyboard player who parks his bike with a keyboard stand and they play cabaret, and unintentional comedic versions of all the classics.  I was drinking my water, when the the music stopped.  Aldous (The cowboy) had stormed off and was talking on his phone for about ten minutes, looking agitated and angry, the midget always the proffesional kept on singing while keeping an eye on why the cowboy was AWOL.  She then reverted into an accapella version of 'Lord wont you buy me a mercedes benz'.  And was asking a completely despondent crowd to help her sing it.   Always the pro, the show must go on.  When they had started Aldous had turned his keyboard right up, and her vocals right down, all's you could hear was this distorted keyboard sound mechanically murdering 'A whiter shade of pale'.  They were here last year as well, and so I knew they had been doing this gig a while, still with the same songs and act.  But now I sensed there was trouble in the partnership.  She received some sympathy drops for her accapella rendition, and apologied for the 'Technical difficulties'.  I set out again and returned the next day.....

The midget was looking sad and waiting for a cowboy that didn't look like he was gonna show.  I started speaking to her and asked her about yesterday, she said it was just some 'technical difficulties' and all is good.  Though I doubted her, as her eyes knew that this could be the end of their partnership.  I set out myself for some bridge busking and when I returned a few hours later, I seen the cowboy sitting with this American duo of guitar and vocals (who are lame and cheese all over, and irritate the fuck out of me) practising together while Vince was busking.  It was getting late and I figured they were now going to play together, as night time came they set up to play together and it was a very sad amateur music display full of wrong notes, and neither knowing where the changes were happening.  As they played and murdered 'Everything in it's right place' I wondered if this was the end of the Midget and the Cowboy.  They were always there at Rembrandtplein, last year and this year, and now I never see them.  Yesterday I was waking through Central and as I turned around to look, I noticed a bike taxi driver that used to be the cowboy.  I wonder what has happened to the midget, I think busking was how they supported themselves and now they are no more, I wonder how she is doing......

A heatwave hit us on Monday, and there was not a cloud in the sky!  Amsterdam is golden in the sun, the canals sparkle, the colours of the buildings glow, the scenery can really melt your heart in the heat.  I was expecting it to be a good busking weather and looked forward to starting my busking shift at my bridge.  I was in a good musical mindset and confidently set up to play at my bridge.  I had not a penny to my name and was hoping to make enough to buy some water in the first round.  I played, and was in great form, my voice had a gravelly crackle as I sung my heart out and really expected to do quite well.  The sun was shining, and in an hour I made nothing.  I couldn't understand it!  All the ingredients were perfect, but not one centime came into my hat.  By this point I was so thirsty and found an empty bottle on the floor, it stunk of old socks, so I ducked into a coffee shop and filled it with water then set out again.  I started playing and in the first 40 minutes earned a slow 4 euroes.  At least it was enough for some bananas and water and chocolate.  I carried on playing for another hour and a bit, and earned nothing during that time.  Disheartened I rode around trying to find a different spot, but not feeling any.  I went back and played for ten minutes, then thought 'fuck it I am going home'.  Bart was leaving for Italy the next day, and I really wanted to get us some beers in, alls I could manage was 2 cans of warm Grolsch!

This was only a few days after playing and earning so great with the Cellist, so I was determined to find some musicians to busk with.  I found a muso list of Amsterdam and there was a band on there looking for a singer, I couldn't resist getting in touch, and I went down to the musicians hang out the day after to rehearse with them.  It was a pure and intense musical jam that made me realise how great being in a band is.  In Liverpool I became quite disheartened with the band scene there.  A thankless task to play a gig to your mates, with a shifty promoter not even giving you a few drinks.  But jamming with this band, made me remember why it is worth it.  When 6 people are all putting their musical energy into one big sound, it is magical and at the end your body aches with joy of expression.  It made me really happy to find this band, and I wouldn't have found it unless I had of done so poorly at the previous days busking.  For everything a reason hey.  And finding the muziekplatz where all the bands of Amsterdam rehearse and drink and socialise, I felt at home!  Crash studios in Liverpool was where I could go and taste the music of Liverpool, and now I find Amsterdams Crash.  It is full of musicians and good people, and makes me think even more that I will be here for a while yet.......

I still felt I needed a new spot to busk, so the next day I went to Vondelpark, it is a glorious and beautifully green big park in the West of Amsterdam, the realisation set in, that when the sun shines this is where the people are.  Playing at a bridge next to a road on a glorious day is not the right setting, but this place was just perfect.  I set up at the entrance and in 20 minutes had earned five Euroes.  I then played 'Five Years' by Bowie and some woman came up and gave me 10 Euroes!  Yes!  I had found my new spot.  I gave my thanks to the tree I stood under and set out to meet my dear friend Audrey.  There was a massive vinyl market  at Niewe Markt that day, with mint condition bargains for a euro.  Like a musical pro, Audrey found 11 albums with a few Beatles, a Dylan some vital Idol, Rolling Stones, The Who and paid only 40 Euroes for the lot.  They feel and look amazing, almost as beautiful as they will sound once we get that right vinyl player.........

Saturday 14 July 2012

One More Cup of Coffee Before I Go.....

The last 5 weeks have been crazy!  4 festivals on the run, and I feel my head is gonna explode with all the rich experiences I went through at them.  It's quite a story to tell and I am not sure where to start.  Perhaps the start? Ok........

After being in Amsterdam for a month I received an email from Dani whom I met last year at the Magneet festival.  She makes the greatest Sicilian coffee, carrot cake and muffins!  She tells me that Robodock is at the squatted ADM terrain this year and is sounding like a good one, would I like to come and help her make some coffee and cakes?  'Yes, I would'. I told her. 

I had spent the last two weeks at Barts house, Bart is one of those guys you just easily get on with.  Last year at Magneet, he was one of the first people I spoke to and helped out at the Magneet terrain.  The first thing he asked me was weather I want some food and a beer, he has one of those care free smiles and a razor sharp wit, I liked him immediately.  When I was coming to Amsterdam this time, I messaged him and he said I can stay at his place for a bit and look after it while he is away!  This made me speechlessly happy.  Last year when I came to Amsterdam, I would look around all the market stores at the junk treasures and wish I had a home in Amsterdam to be able to decorate it with all the bits and pieces they sold.  I only had a tent though, but that tent had some Dutch touches!  Now I was staying in an amazing apartment and had my own little room to decorate and make my own a bit!  I put some posters up and some chilled lights, got a box for my clothes and Colinified the room a little.  Life is beautiful I thought.  I am a very lucky person.  One evening when I popped back to the flat to pick up some clothes, Bart was waiting for his girlfriend to arrive, he was checking his phone, looking out the window, pacing around, and then when she was at the street and rung the buzzer, this smile and excitement engulfed him as he kissed her hello.  It is very heart warming to see two people so much in love.  Eva, his girlfriend, is a tall, curly haired, very energetic and beautiful Dutch girl, she has one of those perfectly happy smiles, when she talks to you, you feel you have known her forever.  I have many great memories with them at the Magneet, but that moment will always stay with me and make me smile.  Perhaps because it reminds me of when I was in love and how wonderful a feeling it is...

Bart had helped fix up a bike for me, she was an orange sticker refugee and she wobbles when she rides.  I gave her the name 'Jelly Roll' and we set off to the festival to meet Dani.  I finally found the terrain which is hidden in the industrial North of Amsterdam, a squatted village that has a big building in the centre and a massive hanger workshop where all the great engineers, builders, carpenters and artists of the ADM terrain work, building whatever they want or need.  Not for a company or a deadline, but for themselves and the parties that they throw there.  I could taste the festival atmosphere as soon as I got in.  I have felt that these festivals are like bubbles.  Inside them no other world exists, time is measured by sunrise, sunset and the weather. When you feel like a coffee it is coffee time, when you feel like a beer it is beer time, when you are hungry it is dinner time. You never look at a watch, you just get caught up in the festival flow. It felt good to be back in this atmosphere, but the one thing that was going through my head is that I am too overdressed.  I should have bought a pair of jeans with me instead of 4 suits that I bought from a charity shop! (They are just so comfy though!)  I found Dani and the coffee bar and it was great to see her again.  Last year at Magneet, we spent 7 weeks in the bubble and had incredible highs and lows, all of us who were there from the start went through something together, and a long bond was formed between us all.  The coffee bar is mobile and it is one of the most brilliant constructions I have ever seen.  It is a motorbike or a 'Backbroomer' so it has two wheels on the front and one at the back.  Just in front of the handle bars is a two layered table, with a gas cooker and all the coffee pots, in front of that is a big wood oven that cooks cakes and lasagnes and all sorts!  We exchanged our winter stories with eachother and enjoyed a cup of coffee and cake together.  Dani is a dark, beautiful Serbian born traveller, who is completely open and honest about everything.  She has a soothing way of getting things done, and is quite shamanistic in how she does it.  When she is next to a campfire, the light from it flickers in her eyes and you feel her beauty and strength shining with the flames.  We would spend the next month sleeping in her camper van and making coffee at some amazing festivals.......

Coffee, for me in England it was a spoon of Nescafe, 2.5 sugars and lots of milk, then down it straight away for a little kick. (Almost like Orwells Victory Gin, no?)  But this coffee is special coffee.   It is the sicilian way of making it, and the process is as follows.  A three layered silver pot that one the bottom you fill with water, in the middle you put coffee (Dani's coffee is grown by anarchists under a tree in the East, and is Lekker) then as the water heats on the gas cooker, the steam rises and fuses into the coffee, that then rises again up a tube and becomes liquid in the top container.  It is a very beautiful coffee, and as soon as I got back from the last festival I purchased one!  I am so proud, I am going to take it everywhere truly tasting the coffees of the world, no more nescafe instant!  Then in the cup, you put 1/3 milk, 1/3 coffee, and 1/3 milk foam.  This balance results in one the most amazing coffees you will ever drink (and 4 ssugars for me!)  Dani has a way of really making you think for yourself, she isn't telling you what to do all the time, but just throws responsibility at you and lets you get on with it.  Not telling you when you make a mistake, but just letting you learn.  I set about learning how to run the coffee bar on my own and was very proud to do so.  When I love doing somethin, I put my heart into it, and give it everything I got.  Plus, it is a great way to meet and speak to people at festivals by making coffee, I was able to experience the festival and it's people a whole different way.  Not just buying a ticket and going to see it, but seeing it built, talking to everyone involved and feeling so happy when a good cup of coffee puts a smile on their face!  I had seen bits and pieces of the festival in its build up from rehearsals and work they were still doing, but Saturday night I really got completely absorbed in the world they had so wonderfully created.  Let me try and take you through it from the start.  I hope to do it justice, but i fear the experience I felt at this, is hard to truly translate into words......


It was about 8pm on the Saturday, I shared a joint with this Slavic photographer I got on really well with, we talked about life and travels and stuff and I felt I was in a great place, a nicely stoned from the smoke.  I went up to the front gate to see where the coffee bar was when I got pulled into the show.  At the gate stood a black van, draped with black sheets, and skinheaded girls with no eyebrows cloaked in black in bare feet.  At the door the woman was smiling as she asked the new arrivals if they were 'ready to die?'  They would let 20 or so in, and then really slam the gate behind them.  There was a little skinhead (not sure weather it was male or female) running around the floor on all fours, trying to grab the bait, the skinheads on the van were waving (like a draped flag)  at it, and laughing.  Over in a patch of grass to the right of the gate, this band played acoustic.  They were dressed really spookily, but without being cheesy or trademark or anything, they just looked perfectly fitting.  they were playing random prog jazz type unsettling music, (double bass, sax, drums, guitar) and mingling with the people and really creeping them out.  Then they started to walk away as they played and we were drawn to follow.  we walked to the flaming lotus girls that was this giant submerged into the grass Griffin, with like bones that were filled with fire (controlled by gas) that would shoot up this massive fire through them.  The theatre performers were sitting down pretending to be part of the crowd when they started to have what looked like an epileptic fit of a dance.  Flinging themselves all around the bones of fire that would randomly shoot fire.  The skinheads joined in and it was a strange display.  Then over to the building.  The building was set out to represent 4 sides of life and death, and the first was a giant iron tree attached to the building with a kind of stage, that a ghostly opera singer would sing this very haunting melody backed by cello and violin.  a little further up this side was a robotic band, a robotic vodka bar and a giant robotic hand that would crush a piano!  The next side of the building was completely decorated to look like a sidewards garden.  Then on ropes dancers would seem to be caring for the garden that was like a flip sided view.  Very surreal!  behind that in a little patch of grass was 'Charron' which is a giant wheel with skeletons rowing.  When people pull the ropes it starts to spin, when they get the right speeds it lights up with strobes and really looks like skeletons are coming alive and rowing a never ending boat!  On the next side of building was the fire show.....Wow, music made completely from fire, and then a whole fire display of setting alight woodchip and throwing it all over the place, was so fascinating to watch.  the next side of the building was projecting a light show on the building that looked like it was coming to life!  The windows would crack, and then a a fruit machine wheel would spin, and always land on the Politie (Police) symbol.  There were stages on two of the sides that bands would play.  I was completely blown away by 'La Fantastique Boutique'  A 12 piece band with brass section, string section, drums, double bass, DJ, keys and no vocals!  They were amazing!  Truly!  I cant truly describe all the other smaller elements that also went in to this festival, but please take my word that this was one of the most brilliant combinations of Theatre, Art, Engineering and music that I have ever seen!  One of the theatre performers, Anna I really must tell you about.......

She is 6ft5 red hair, and has such a strong presence that I would go weak at the knees whenever she spoke to me.  Tall and slim figure, but strong.  Tattooed with naked girls and more all over her beautiful body.  She wears clothes that add to her grandness, like those tall Russian hats, and big leather boots.  Completely comfortable in her body, and happy when she is welding iron together, or performing.  She has the look of a Bond villain girl, like a Natasha. She has deep searching eyes that look right inside you, and I was always mesmerized by her whenever she was close to me.  After the festival had finished I stayed there for a bout a week, this terrain was so amazing.  It has a giant wooden tower they built, and a pizza oven, a bar and the dogs run free.  Around a hundred people live there so I am told.  They have built a perfect sauna in a caravan and on a beautiful morning I was in the sauna alone when Anna came in.  I didn't know it was her at first, but then seeing her tattoos and catching her eye my stomach fluttered.  She was sighing from the heat and touching her naked body, rubbing her legs up and down and breathing heavily.  I spoke few words, and  just enjoyed what was an amazing experience.  She was at all the other festivals as well, and always had the same effect on me.  A very beautiful, strong and creatively crazy girl with a raging fire inside her, I am sure and I hope we will meet again......

Thursday 12 July 2012

It's a Ducks Life

Since it is weather for ducks outside, I feel I should tell you about my friends....The Ducks, as well as Rooster head and the cross eyed seagulls.  The people I have met in Amsterdam have very big colourful characters, and the wild life of the city is no different......

I love getting lost on a bike ride in the city, and finding new places of wonder and meeting people.  On my second day here I set out to Flevo park to find a place where I could sit in peace and practise my guitar and learn new songs.  Last year I found a beautiful spot in the park, with an amazing seat by the river.  It had lots of passing traffic though, and was quite hard to feel as isolated as I sometimes like to feel.  So this time I was determined to find the perfect spot.  I rode all around Flevo park just looking for my new retreat.  I came accross an almost hidden path way that I couldn't resist following down.  As I got nearer my heart fluttered.  This was perfect!  A clearing that opened up to a well hidden spot away from all passers by.  A fallen trea to sit on, and the river right at my toes.  Facing East to watch sunrise, and a view of the Magneet Festival skies.  I took out my compass and marked down my location.  I completely refuse to allow a smart phone to cpature what I see, and tell me where to go.  A compass and a map is much more prefarable to me.  I sat on the tree and enjoyed the view.  I felt this was the perfect place where I could just go and learn as many new songs to busk as possible!  I am on a 'learn 2 a day'diet that is going quite well.  I started playing and singing and after about 20 minutes a family of ducks came close to inspect what was happening.  One of the reasons Spring is my favourite season is that you get to see new wildlife at its youngest, and this beautiful mother with her 6 ducklings just melted my heart.  The mother was proud and protective and shone this golden tint on her feathers that made me just smile at her beauty.  The ducklings were high squeaking, lightly coloured stumbling bundles of joy.  I was so suprised when they came right up to me, quacking and squeaking right to my feet!  I wished I had some food to give them, because they seemed hungry.  I found a corn biscuit in my pocket and broke it up into pieces for them.  They seemed to really like it and I wished I had more to give them.  So I played them a few songs and just said to myself what I always say when Amsterdam amazes me.  'GOD, I love this city!!!' I must say that about 10 times a day.  I felt I had found my perfect place to come, and was already planning to see them again tomorrow......

Money was disintigrating so I thought I needed a budget.  I figured I could live off 6 Euroes a day.  Buying a baghuette, some cheese, filling my water bottle and a bar of chocolate.  I picked some wheat bread that I thought the ducks might like and on the next day I went back.  God I was hoping they would return.  I found the place again, took out my guitar and a few minutes later I was paid a visit.  I hoped it was a different family because she only had 2 ducklings with her.  It was, I am sure.  I was throwing them some Wheat bread and they seemed to really like it.  Coming up close.  This time their Dad was there watching.  It's strange, I am no wildlife expert. But I could just tell he was the Dad.  The mother with her beautiful brown colouring, and the dad with his green neck and stern face.  Almost like he was wearing a suit and a tie.  He would stay back making sure the kids and his woman ate first.  I would throw him some aswell though, that he seemed a bit reluctant to take.. Now that's a good Dad, someone who puts their kids first.  I was enjoying watching them and feeding them, when the other family of ducks came near.  Yay!  I threw them some wheat bread too and was happy to see them.  But the mother of 2 didn't like this.  It was her feeding spot.  Before I knew it the two mothers went 'Beak to Beak'and started flapping and fighting right in front of me.  I was like 'Noooooo!  There's enough for everyone!  Calm down, calm down.'  It went on for a few minutes untill the mother of 2 retreated looking sad and defeated.  The mother of 6 stood up in the water and flapped her wings with her head up. (I think this is a victory pose, they seem to do it alot)  I was still a bit heart broken at this fight as I watched the mother of 2 swim away but keep looking back.  The family of 6 came right up to me quacking their little hearts out and taking wheat bread from my hands.  As sad as I was about the fight, I kind of understood that that is the way the world is.  Life is a fight.  You have to defend what is yours, and fight for what you think is right.  Humans are no different.  So this mother of 6 won, because she was the stronger one, she had 6 kids and even the kids were getting into the fight.  They do this thing where they put their head down like they are going to charge, and if the other doesn't flee, then they go 'Beak to Beak' or Bill to Bill I suppose.  Beak to Beak just sounds better.  I think every time I have gone there, I have ended up giving them more than I have eaten myself, but it's worth it. 

The more and more I went there, the more life I seen.  It's like a little neighbourhood.  Over in the rush's there lives a very edgy paranoid beautiful creature.  He is always there, and when I am feeding the ducks he comes for a nose.  I try to throw him some food, but he runs away from it.  Completely black, not a duck, or a seagull, but swims like a duck but has a beak and demeaner of a gull.  He has this white stripe coming down his head and a white beak that makes him very curious.  I seem to call him Rooster head, and when he swims up his neck goes back and forth like a pidgeon.  He is a funny character, that once everyone else has gone, he comes to see if there is anything left over.  He is getting a bit braver and coming closer now, but he just looks very edgy and paranoid all the time.  I love him.  Another day I was there, I was feeding them, and a pack of sea gulls came for a visit.  When a duckling was heading for a piece of wheat bread, they would swoop down and nick it from them.  One of these gulls came right in front of me and landed on a submerged log and looked me dead in the eye.  He was wonderfully bright white, with a black and grey shades.  But very rich healthy colour.  When he looked at me dead in the eye, I burst out laughing.  He was almost cross eyed.  You know those sets of eyes you get on toys, that spin around and move.  It was like that.  I swear he looked me straight in the eye, and he just had this great comedy like look about him.  I loved him straight away and said my mantra 'GOD I love this city!!'  There are so many parks and fountains,and just beautiful green getaways in the city.  There are swans everywhere, and these amazingly bright green tropical birds you see, rabbits and hares, and all sorts of happy wildlife!  The dogs all are very obedient and well behaved, and they mingle naturally and playfully with other dogs. There is a peacefulness here, and wildlife that I would be amazed to see matched by another capital city!  

A Darker Side of Amsterdan

I have noticed a different side to this city since being back. I must admit, my love for Amsterdam comes from the daytime. The church bells that ring beautiful melodies every 15 minutes, the peaceful hum of trams and bikes and even when she rains she is beautiful. But like every city, when darkness descends, another side of the city comes out......’

Last year I arrived in Amsterdam for the first time. It was completely different to my expectations, I expected seedy whore clubs and dingy cafe's and coke dealers on every corner. When I seen just how beautiful, free and open she was I knew I wanted to stay. Taylor, who used to be a bass player and played in my old band White Trash ana Halfcast was with his friends when I first came here, so we met up and he said I could crash on the floor of his hotel, so I didn't book a hostel or think about accommodation for the night. He and his friends also love Amsterdam, but for very different reasons than me. They book a hotel as close to central as they can. And visit the coffee shops to get as stoned out of their heads as possible. Stay there for a few hours, then go to McDonalds for a 'munch'. They have never ridden a bike, and only know a short route to nearby coffee shops that love selling weed to people like this. Each one of them must spend a few hundred Euros in the 2 or 3 days they are here, which is great for the tourist economy and it will be strange to see how these laws on banning tourists work out. I have not found one Dutch person who thinks it is a good idea yet, already in the South, criminal disturbances have quadrupled because of the ban. I spent that first day in Amsterdam with Taylor and his friends, I assumed I could just crash on the floor of their hotel, but I was wrong. Hotels are very vigilant about things like this and they wouldn't let me stay. So, it was midnight and I had no place to stay. I decided I would just street walk the whole night, maybe find a bench to stay on. At least I had put my back pack in Taylors room so I wasn't carrying much. It was all such a new city to me, I had no idea where I was walking but just walked for hours. As I was walking, this strange man started following me, trying to creep me out. Saying 'Where you goin with that guitar? you can't carry guitars round here' Then he said he was gonna piss while we walk. I stared him straight in the eyes and said 'Look, lad. I have no attention to give you, you are obviously deficient of some brain cells, maybe mother never held you as a kid or something. But get the fuck out of my face while I enjoy Amsterdam, you are just irritating me, so fuck off'. That seemed to shake him off. it was 3 am in the morning and my feet ached, my mind was a bit frazzled, and I came to a sign that said Hotel. I went in and asked how much, he said he would give me it for 40 Euros as it was so late, so I took it and just crashed in the room. I was a bit gutted about spending so much money on a room. Cash was running out fast, but at that point I just felt I needed to. I went on to get 2 nights in a Hostel, and then I started camping, and then I joined the Magneet.

I remember it was 2 weeks before I even saw a police car in Amsterdam, no sirens no big police presence. I ask myself now, looking back. Am I romanticising that first 2 months here, because since I have been back I have felt such a change in the atmosphere. On Friday night whilst sitting at Rembrandt plain, two police officers came up to Vince and asked him for his 'Papers'. Shit! So you do need a licence to busk here! Then not long after, the strangest thing. A complete parade of police, fire and ambulance's went past, all with the sirens blaring! There must of have been about 15-20 vehicles, I thought, wow, what is happening here! There is now a mobile police station at Rembrandt plan keeping watch. And I am always seeing Politte everywhere. Still not as much as Liverpool, but immensely more than last time I was here. On the second night I was here, a policeman stopped me for riding on the wrong side of the road. I used my Britishness and all was good. I think if they are to bring the laws in on selling weed to foreigners, then they will need a heavy police presence to enforce it. because you know, there are gonna be dealers EVERYWHERE! it's not as if weed will just disappear from the city. But maybe this is why I am seeing such a change in the atmosphere here. Why not let the pot heads from around the world come and spend a few hundred Euros for a toke of freedom? Supply will always meet demand! But it seems they will stubbornly enforce this stupid law and ignore the rise in crime and disturbance that will inevitably come. After the police parade I got on my bike and was in dire need of a piss. It's hard to find a place to piss in Amsterdam, but I headed East and just decided to get a bit lost on my bike. Then the sirens again, all of them blurring down the road. I stopped and watched, and just wondered what on earth was the goal of this. Seeing Vince get asked for a licence to busk worried me, and I thought I had better be careful about taking my amp out.

One thing Amsterdam teaches me is patience and responsibility. Having the freedom to enjoy a smoke whenever you want makes it a different feeling all together. In England the illegality of it dictates when you can smoke it and where, and always gotta hide. Here, it is something to be enjoyed. There is this coffee shop in Rembrandt plain called Balou. It is right by my busking bridge, and I went there a lot last year. So much so that the guy recognised me, and said 'Hey, it's been a while!' I would make enough from busking to get me a little smoke and a cuppa and always enjoyed that coffee shop (mostly for the fact it was the closest.) I like to really enjoy a joint, not smoke too much and get green out my head. I only have one joint in a coffee shop, and then I go riding. I space my day out by this. I already had a little bit of smoke left, and then went in to the shop to order a coffee. It was a different guy working there, this fat guy, with a kind of, what I lack emotionally, I overstate, look in his eyes. I asked him for a coffee and he said you gotta buy some weed. I said I already have some left from yesterday', he said 'This is how we make our money, so buy some weed, it's always the same with you, you buy a cup of coffee and smoke 1 joint.' I said 'excuse me, I have made this my local and really enjoy coming here, so I don't want to get stoned out of my head, but just enjoy a smoke. I am sure you make quite a bit from drink sales as well.' He put his head down and just pointed at the weed menu. I left, and never have, and never will return.

There have been little things, like more people asking me for money, and people stepping out in front of me with mad eyes as I ride. Last year, in the whole 2 months, I was asked for 20 cents just once! None of this dampens my love for this city. On the contrary, I am excited to be here to witness the changes she is going through and how she will shape and resist the changes asked of her.........

90 Degrees

Ok, so lets take it back to Paris.  It is a amazing city, with beautiful, affectionate and passionate people.  But I didn't feel it was the place for a broke English musician.  It has many rich kids with expensive tastes and I didn't feel I fully belonged there.  I awoke at dawn to catch my ride to Amsterdam.........

The girl I met who said she would give me a ride with her boyfriend, loved the Beatles, Dylan and a lot of the same music as me.  Also, her boyfriend was Australian, so we spoke Gods language of English the whole way there, while listening to goood music.  It was beautifully clear and sunny the whole journey there.  I remember the same journey from Paris to Amsterdam last year, and it was rainy and grey all the way there, then once we got to Amsterdam this clear blue patch was above the whole city, and the sunlight shone on the city I immediately fell in love with.  With the music blasting in our little car we talked about music, life and the magic of Amsterdam.  There was meant to be another guy travelling with us, but he couldnt make it at the last minute, and this was very lucky for me, as there would not have been room for all my stuff otherwise. We just about managed to squeaze the suitcase in, and I had Martha on my knees.  Cato, who I met at the Magneet and went on to record a brilliant album with in Liverpool said I could stay with her for a few days, I didn't write the address down though, and just thought I would remember it. Something I later regretted.

I was dropped off in the South of Amsterdam and bunked the tram to the centrum.  I remember it was tram line 9, but no idea what stop or anything.  I got to the centre and smoked a cigarette.  I know I talk about it alot, but it is a lot of stuff I have to carry, that is awkward, you cant fit into a shop, you cant go the toilet.  I was carrying my body weight in the bags.  I got on the tram on line number 9, and the woman asked me which stop I wanted, I said I didn't know and I was just gonna get off when it feels right.  She smiled and said OK.  Each stop we approached, she would say 'this one?' and I would say Hmmm No.  I was starting to feel like I really should get off.  I couldnt recognise anything around me, and felt I might have gone a bit far.  I got off the tram and looked around.  Since I decided to go travelling, I have felt incredibly lucky, things just seemed to work out perfectly, whenever I was lost, I would find where I needed to go.  I was praying that my luck would see me through here and take me to Cato's.  I walked for about 15 minutes and came accross a street that felt really familiar.  I was 60 percent sure it was here.  I walked straight up to the door and couldn't see Cato's name on any of the buzzers.  Damn it felt so right it was here!  If I had of turned my head 90 degrees and looked behind me, I would have seen her window!  I didn't turn round, instead I went back the way I came and walked for 2 hours up the street, every 5-10 minutes I would have to stop, as I just couldn't walk with all this stuff!  I went into a coffee shop in the hope they had internet or a phone, but no.  Then this French lad who overheard me talking to the woman said 'Hey, you need to make a call?' I thanked him from the bottom of my heart with a CD and phoned Cato.  She gave me directions to meet her, and I set off there again.  When I met her at exactly the same place I arrived at previously, I couldnt believe it!  I laughed at lucks irony and went inside her place.

The first time I came to Amsterdam, I was very alone.  For the first 2 weeks I didn't know anyone, but just fell in love with the city.  I would ride round for hours getting lost and smiling to myself at it's beauty and wonder, it's peacefulness.  It was only when I joined the Magneet festival that I really met people who I would be spending time with, and learning more about Dutch culture.  I remember those first 2 weeks well, I was very alone, and in love with the city.  This time, coming straight into the home of Cato and her family and with a big list of people to catch up with from the festival I didn't feel alone, and had a very different feeling about the city.  This time I felt I knew her a bit better after 2 months here last year. Now, the attitude and lives of the Dutch people is what I fell in love with.  Cato has these 2 very wonderful children, who have a sparkle in their eyes, no television and a loving creative home to nurture them to the greatness and success I feel sure they will both achieve in their lives.  Her partner is a chess master, who studies the game and plays constantly.  I love a game of chess, but this is a completely different level!  I have always believed chess is an excercise for the mind, about thinking ahead and thinking strategically.  It is good for you.  Chiel is a very tall, sharp and patient man with bright eyes and a deep love for being a father.  Cato, is a musical genius.  Improvising constantly in her music, her language, her melodies.  I had the pleasure of recording an album with her, and when you see such exceptionally natural brilliance, and a voice that sings in tones of such purity, it is always inspiring to watch, and even more so to be a part of.  There is a piano in their house, musical instruments everywhere, pens and paper with pictures the kids have drawn up everywhere.  Creativity is there, but not enforced.  I think that makes such a difference, let a child find what they want to do creatively or musically, not tell them or make them take lessons.  Let them find their own love for creating.  And this house is perfect for that.  Isaak the boy, looks just like his dad.  A shaggy head of blonde hair and care free eyes.  Sophie looks just like her mum, sharp, bright searching eyes and a creative spark that you know will never be satisfied.  There was this moment, while I was playing guitar in the back room, and Isaak was sitting on Geels knee while he was figuring out a chess problem, the light from the windows shone in their eyes and this image will always stay with me.  It was like one of those perfect picture moments, a proud father with his son, looking so alike except in size.  I have always felt glad that I had never had kids, as I am free from responsibility, but there are times like this one, when you realise how special being a dad is.  In Liverpool I can get pretty tired at watching young angry teen mothers scream at their children and hit them, and speak in that horrid tone.  But being around this family made me very happy inside.  I have happy memories of my childhood, and being around Cato and her family evoked a lot of them.  Always holding and playing with the kids, taking them outside to get muddy from playing and exploring and meeting other kids.  Another beautiful memory is when Cato was practising her pieces for her show, Sanna (Chiel's friend who is also staying there, and another chess master) started singing together.  Sanna has this amazing Baritone voice, and mixed with Cato's which is like one of those voices you hear in black and white, very pure.  They sung Go Down Moses together and I just closed my eyes and listened.....

After putting all my stuff down in her place, I enjoyed a beer with everyone but was already gurning to take a bike out.  I felt like after walking for those hours it would feel like I was stretching my legs,  And it was!  God, I love to ride a bike in Amsterdam.  A joint and a bike ride is a truly amazing experience!  I borrowed Chiel's bike and went straght to my old spots, Rembrandt plain, my (now ex) local coffee shop and my beloved bridge.  I parked my fiet and walked around, I came accross a busker with a double bass singing some old rock n roll.  I had just had a joint so threw him a Euro and stood and listened.  Then, more people started to stand round, and then this woman who was with her boyfriend I seen just started edging as close as she could to the busker with that 'take a pic for facebook smile' I laughed and felt glad I didn't have no camera.  It was getting late so I needed to get back home....But spending this first night back in Amsterdam made me realise how much I love her.  It's where the party is man.  It's where you can buy nice weed, it's where the legends are, it's where you can get anywhere in the city on your bike, it's where buskers play in peaceful bliss to stoned passer by's.  It's where the beautiful girls are, fiesty tall Dutch girls with long strong legs, it's where the houses like matchstick boxes are.  It felt good to be back.  Amsterdam is not a capital city that imposes on you in any way.  From it's laws, to it's transport, to it's people, to it's buildings.  I have never felt scared once in Amsterdam even through all my crazy experiences here.  I feel safe here, and will be here for the next five months at least.

I was hoping to get my first week down in this chapter, but only managed my first night!  See what I mean when I say so much has happened.  You still need to hear the story of Rusty Springwheel and my friends the ducks! And the break up of the midget and the cowboy! Plus my LEGENDARY week with Ron and Elaine.  So much to tell, and so much time to tell it!

East Or West

East or West

Wow, what a last couple of days it has been, from walking the streets all night and watching sunrise, to meeting a pro sax player to busk with, much has happened.  So before I tell of the last 2 weeks in Holland I need to put the last few days down.......

I drew my last 20 euroes out of the cash machine, and cruised with Ron down to the train station, it was an absolutley amazing time with him and Elaine, that was hard to part from, but I felt a few weeks in Amsterdam while Ron gets ready for his exhibition will be good to get some money in and then we can set the studio up in our new place 'The White House'.  It was 10 Euroes to get to Amsterdam, so once again everything I owned went with me on train and automobile to Amsterdam.  I was meeting up with Alix, a French girl I met in Paris, she was visiting for the weekend so I walked from the station to meet her.  God, I miss my bike when I am walking in Amsterdam.  You don't realise how much distance you cover on your bike.  I think I do about 20km a day.  I drink lots of water, buy my baguette and cheese in the day and I always share it with these ducks I know.  Anyway, I really felt the weight of the luggage and walking for an hour with a heavy load to Rembrandt plain was my first check point.  My friend from Magneet, Bart said I could stay at his place even though he was away, so I was very glad to be having a base I could drop this heavy load at and get to busking and biking round my beautiful Amsterdam again.  Arriving at Rembrandt plain as a golden sunset was in its most reflective, Vince, a reggae busker was playing there, I remember him from last year, he is top quality.  Infact, in my ledger last time, I rated all the buskers I seen, and he was one of the best.  I met up with Alix and her friend and she let me use her phone to phone Bart, no answer.  I tried again a few times and still no word, I began to worry and tried a few other friends I knew, but no repsonse.  I prepared myself for a night on the streets, it was a tropically hot evening and I knew Amsterdam better now than on the first night I arrived last year, when I thought I would have to stay on the streets.  So, I was a bit more confident this time....

I asked Alix if she would look after my stuff while I did an hours busking just round the corner at my old bridge.  They waited in my local coffee shop and I did my first busk since being back in Amsterdam.  I made 9e50 in 40 minutes and felt it was Amsterdams way of buying me a smoke and saying welcome back.  I rejoined Alix and enjoyed a joint.  Still no repsonse and nearly midnight.  I filled my flask up with water, got my coat and scarf out of my bag and thought about a plan for the night.  Alix would let me keep my bag and suticase at her hostel and I will pick it up in the morning.  We put the stuff in the hostel and then drank at the bar until about 3, I was preparing to leave when Alix's phone rang, it was Bart with an address and location of the spare key!  Ok, so I need a plan.  Its 3 am I have only a faint idea where the address is, no bike and still a heavy bag and guitar with me.  When I arrived in Amsterdam 2 weeks ago I stayed with Cato and she bestowed upon me a very wonderful dutch bike.  I wedded her and she became 'Rusty Springwheel'  I have a whole chapter to write on the characters of bikes in this city, and my first week in Amsterdam, but for now, it was 3 am and I still had the key to her, so I could walk to the East and find the bike, or head West and hope to find Barts.  I took my compass out, and headed East.  I hope her wheels still have breathe in them, she was only given 3 days to live by the fietsman.  I had faith in her though, she is 70 years old, and is rusted all over.  Her bell was mute, and her tyre ripped.  She was heavy riding at first, until I was riding through Ooster park and I just felt like someone was pushing me, it was Rusty Springwheel coming to life!  All of her sudden her steering loosened, she was getting faster and not breathing so heavy (when the tire rubs the frame) I bought her a new bell and set of night eyes and we have bonded great.  I was hoping she was still there, GOD please let her have air in her tyres was all I could say over and over again.  I had been walking for 2 hours solid with my stuff and my feet and ankles were really starting to give in when I came close to where I had parked her.  The tyres looked flat, but that could just be a the way she is leaning, I came closer, if they were flat I would be the other side of Amsterdam with no wheels and no energy in me.  I came closer, they looked good!  I reached down and grabbed her and she was fully pumped front and back!  I blew a kiss to the stars unlocked her and said hello.  She was glad to see me again, and I to see her.  Genuinely.

 It was after 5am and the sun was rising.  I had saved myself a joints worth and headed to my favourite spot in flevo park.  It is a beautiful clearing hidden away, facing East.  You can see the dykes of the Magneet festival in the distance and feel a very special festival brewing there in a few months.  Sitting on a log in this beautiful clearing, I watched this burning red sunrise, which slowly filled the sky with a golden morning light that was waking all the life around the river.  My friends the ducks came to say hello to me.  I was playing guitar and a young lad and girl came over and joined me.  We said nothing to eachother, we just enjoyed this very beautiful red sunrise.  They gave me a cooked pancake, which was delicous as I was very hungry at this time.  I played them some guitar as we just sat there under this golden first light.  I stayed there untill around 7 am then went to try and find my way to Barts house......

I didn't realise how tired I was.  My legs were so heavy, my mind was starting to make blotches in my vision from lack of sleep.  I had my last 5 euroes in the world and was tempted to buy some breakfast, but wanted to wait until 10 to get a baguette and cheese from the good old Albert Heijn.  It was approaching 8am when I got to the centre.   I knew Alix needed to check out at 10, so I tried to remember my way to Barts, and after about an hours riding I found it!  I found the spare key from the hiding space and went in the front door.  The key to his appartment took me 30 mins to open, it was one of those sweet spot locks.  All kinds were going through my mind, 'What if the locks had changed, and he forgot'.  Clink....It opened!  I threw my stuff down and just collapsed.  After a few hours of sleeping Alix was phoning me to come pick my bags up.  I slapped my face a bit to wake up, and set out to centrum again.  I drunk her beer that echoed in my bare belly and hoped it would give me a blast of energy for what I needed to accomplish.  Picture the scene if you will...  A 70 year old bike with a split ruptured back wheel, hard peddler and creaky.  A big suitcase bag.  A back pack and me standing there swaying from tiredness.  I heaved and lifted the big bag over my back.  OW!  It was ripping into my shoulders, and I still had my 70 litre back pack which I put round one arm.  I tried to climb onto the bike and find the energy for an hours ride back to Barts place, I was wobbling all over the place, but I finally got a pace going, as long as I didnt have to stop.  I did a few times.  My head was down and I just tried to ride through the pain with an energy from somewhere.  I made it though.  I felt like kissing the floor, but I resisted and just slept.........

I set out on a Pink Moon

I set out on a pink moon.......

Ok, so here I am almost a month on the road, and I feel I gotta get all the stuff that has happened, out of my head and into some words. First of all, I took a picture of Bob Dylans handwritten lyrics at an exhibition in Paris, and it crashed my camera!  I can't take any pics, and I am kind of glad, because especially these last few weeks I have seen things that could never be captured.  Instead they are imprinted in my mind attached to a smile they will always bring upon thinking of them.  But, lets take it from the top shall we?

It was a pink moon on the 5th of the 5th, anyone who knows me well will know why I love the number 5.  So I packed everything I owned into a back pack, a suitcase, a guitar bag and satchel.  Some clothes, my guitar, busking amp, 16 track recorder, microphones, leads, and my dark sunglasses.  It was a heavy load, but I could just about manage it walking.  I took the coach from Liverpool to Crewe, the train from Crewe to London then the Eurostar to Paris.  It was a smooth thoughtful journey all the way and at 11pm I arrived.  It felt good being out of England.  Last year I left with not a lot of love of for the place, as 29 years inside her walls can make you feel that.  But this time I left with a lot of love in my heart, it was a different feeling driving me this time.  My beautiful friend Katy met me at the station and we went to her place for a drop of red wine and a good catch up.  I had already found a ride to Amsterdam the following weekend, and knew I would be spending a nice week in Paris, seeing some old faces and friends, meeting new ones and just enjoying the art gallery like beauty that only Paris has.  Sunday we payed a visit to La Louvre that is free on the first Sundays of each month, you could feel the weight of history as soon as you walked in.  Ancient Mummys, The Mona Lisa, a maze of hallways and galleries all inside an old Royal Palace.  The taste and smell of preserved empirical aquisitions was very awe inspiring. Outside, blue skies were starting to push through so we walked through the Japanese side of town and went to a restaurant where I proudly handled the use of chop sticks and ate some delicous Japanese food.  It was beautifully clear and hot the next day, so I set out early to find my seat by the Seine to read, and then to pay a visit to all the places I always used to go.  My economy feed in Paris was this panini bar, you get Panini, Frites and Boison for 5 Uro 50.  Although the owners had changed it was still good walking through these familiar streets again.  Last year, when I had no money at all, I would busk at Saint Michell metro to get enough for a panini and happy hour pint.  It was all coming flooding back.  I walked up to Saint Michell and could hear a very wonderful sound as I approached..An American busking band playing Fixin'To Die by Dylan, with Slide guitar, double bass, washboard and harmonica.  I stood for about half an hour listening to the highest standard of street performance, threw them a couple of Euroes when they took a break and I walked on up further to the fountain.  When I seen an upright piano in the middle of the square with a virtuoso player, I thought WOW, the standard is so high.  I stood and watched him for a bit, sweating and giving everything to this performance that still only brought a few coins to his hat.  Underneath in the metro a woman was playing green day and Otis Reading not so well, so it made me feel a bit better about busking myself.  When you see virtuoso and brilliant performers it can make you feel like you really need to become better, and that is what I set out on this trip for.  To define and find my style and repatoire of acoustic songs that I can support myself from playing in the streets with. I headed back to Pont Neuf to meet a friend and as I sat on the bridge a man approached me for a light, he gave me his pack of cigarettes and started talking to me, he seen my guitar and asked me to play him a song from the 60's, so I did and he gave me 10 Euroes, he then asked if I knew Johnny Cash's version of Girl from the North Country, I played him it and he put another 15 Euroes in my pocket and a pack of cigarettes.  As he was leaving a woman from Venezuala with pink hair sat down and started writing an address out for me.  It was an artists squat in Paris and she was asking me to come and stay there.  I thanked her and said I may just do that......

It was an open mic at the Galway, which is an Irish pub near Saint Michell, I never made it to this one last time I was here, so I was excited to play it.  I haven't played a gig for the last 6 months, just been busking at Lime Street really.  I have got into the habbit of just warming up after 4 songs, it was strange to just pick 4 songs to play.  Just for the fact it's been so long since I have.  Anyway, while there I met a great musician and guy called Greg, we exchanged CD's found eachother in the digi world, and strangely enough he  met the same guy who also gave him money for playing Girl from the North Country in Pont Neuf.  It was a great night, though already I could feel Paris taking my money without even realising.  Ok, most of it went on Wine and Beer, but 8 Euroes for un pint!!  Ouch.  Tuesday was a French holiday and it was a lovely lazy day staying in bed and watching old French films then a little picnic in the park.  Wednesday was the open mic at the Highlander, where I had some amazing memories from last time in Paris.  I was very excited to see Ida and Thomas and to play there again.  I met up with Greg and Alix there after a few 3 Euro pints at another Irish bar.  It really was great seeing Ida and Thomas again, Ida was smuggling me some free pints and time just vanished.  I was late for the last Metro!  I found out where to take the night bus from, but had no idea where to get off.  My French still wasnt great, but I could get by a little, so the driver said he would shout when we get to Villejuif, though it was nowhere near the metro!  I walked in the hope of finding a familiar site and there it was!  I felt my luck had nudged me home that night.  On Friday I took a little trip to see my old university friend Tess, who is doing her masters degree.  She has a beautiful home in Paris and we chatted and caught up, and she showed me the route to the Bob Dylan exhibition.....I bought a ticket and went inside to see his old black Fender electric guitar, his handwritten lyrics, his old school year books and all sorts of goodies!  For my last night in Paris, Katy was going to a party at her friends and I was meeting up with Greg and Alix, I was a bit late for a few reasons but they called the hitman off.  We grabbed a shot of Coffee and then some beers to head down to the Seine for a jam.The evening wind was turning colder so we went back to the book shop by Notre Dame for a small gathering type party.  I had a great conversation about Tea with a Yorkshireman with a damn fine beard.  How a yorkshire brew, is nice when it is quite sharply brewed, with instant spooning action, and not letting her settle for too long.  Anti clockwisely stirred of course. My ride to Amsterdam was leaving at 9 the next morning and already my heart was set on reaching the flatlands.......

As I write this I am in a farmhouse by the sea, with nothing around for miles but sheep and windmills.  A clear blue sky from end to end and in the company of legendary calibre.  A lot has happened since arriving in Amsterdam but I think that will be the next chapter.  The sun is shining and calling my name, it´s time for me to sit outside and play with Martha.............

The Leaving of Liverpool

So, I flew back from Amsterdam in October with a big beard and a belly full of 'Brand' beer, a head full of amazing memories and a heart full of new friends.  The first 2 weeks were great, catching up with friends and playing a few gigs and doing some busking.  After 3 days I moved into a house in Kensington, it was a cold house and winter was approaching.  I nailed up a set of curtains and all of a sudden the excitement of not knowing where I was gonna sleep, and being in all these different cities seemed like a million years ago.  Could it happen that quick?  After about ten days I was all over the place, couldn't settle at all, was letting people down, couldn't get a right symetrical placing of the furniture in my room.  It was like a jigsaw puzzle where none of the pieces fit together.  This was a strange time for me.  I never get depressed, but I felt a wave of it hit me.  Cato, who is this amazing musician and singer I met in Amsterdam came to stay with me to record an album we had promised!  It was a strange atmosphere as I was starting to reject recording.  After ten years of locking myself away in a room, smoking morning till night and recording LOTS of music, my body was just starting to reject it.  We still recorded an album, and it is a mix of all those crazy energies we felt.  Not long after that, the two other wise men came to stay with me to do some recording.  It was a wonderful time we spent together, and we got some recordings done, but I just still couldn't settle this feeling that was making me so restless and unhappy.  Ron bought me a ticket to Amsterdam for this legendary party, and up until the last moment, I was going.  But I knew if I had of gone, I wouldn't have come back.  I was completely unprepared to set out again.  And felt I would have been leaving with the wrong motives.  I didn't go.

I lasted a few more weeks in that house, and then decided to leave.  Leaving a massive debt of unpaid rent, but I felt a cold house and a nested room was not helping my cause.  Pete Benthem who runs the legendary nights Free Rock n Roll at the mello said he had a room going, so I went to see it on Tuesday and moved in on Wednesday.  Already I felt this weight was starting to lift off me.  The house was warm and homely and with the best dog ever.  I detatched myself from the internet, and still wouldn't and couldn't record music.  I would only use my computer to listen to music on, I stopped smoking in my room, and cut the pot right out, played my guitar and went busking nearly every day.  Went to all the great nights Pete goes to, like Sidney Baileys at Peter Kavanaghs, The Loose Moose at the Caledonia and really enjoyed passing the winter drinking real ale, listening to lots of new music and started to write this album I am getting ready to record.  My plan when I came back to England was to put another band together and keep working on the label and building its infrastructure.  I struggled making the band because I just didn't feel my heart was in that direction anymore.  I felt it was something I 'should' do, rather than something that felt natural and right.  We had some practices with this amazing double bass player, but it was lacking what I had felt with all my other bands before.  I felt my heart was just in busking and learning as many new songs as I could. Liverpool is a great musical city, but it is hard work for a band who are writing their own stuff.  It is an expense that is a strain.  And trying to get everyone together is a headache. I have loved and enjoyed all my previous bands, but didn't feel it with this one.  The label was pulling away from every bit of cash loan injections I was eying up.  They never worked out, and I know now, that that is for a reason.  It would have tied me here indefinitely.  Before I booked my ticket to go, I was signing on and the dole were gonna give me loans to set the label up, and he said 'Well, that will keep you here till at least Christmas'.  I asked myself if I wanted to be tied here till at least Christmas and thought, no...

Spring started to spring up, and I started to feel a change in myself.  The answers were becoming clear.  I will settle in this city, and I will always help fuel in any way the music culture of this very special city.  But just not yet, I felt there is something I need to get out my system.  Before I am tied to loans and business things, I want to live truly free.  In the last 9 years I have moved house about 17 times.  I kind of accept I can't settle anywhere for a long time.  So I started to think about what I wanted to do.  My last adventure was the first time I had been out of the country, and so now I knew the water was warm, and the excitement was ripe.  It was time for the BIG adventure.  I felt I had come back to tidy up my loose ends, by graduating with my degree, helping fight the BBC cuts to local radio, being there for my Mum as she left her sewing shop.  But now it is time to move on.  As I seen the daffodils blooming and the frogs appearing I felt the breath of spring bring new life to me and my surroundings.  The bare tree I have looked at as I smoke out my window, now has flowers and leaves appearing.  The seeds of thoughts all winter were now starting to bloom in my mind.

I cut off all my hair, threw away all my old memory boxes of love letters, old lyrics, stuff like that.  Started doing heavy physical exercise, started to really understand French from these tapes I downloaded, started to prepare myself physically and mentally for this adventure.  I am selling everything I own, all my studio gear, computer, everything!  I am busking for 5 hours a day at the weekend and saving as much as I can to take with me.  I am buying a busking amp and a new guitar (as redwood my old friend had her head cut off in London)  Luckily Radio Ray lent me a beautiful old full bodied guitar who I have struck up quite a rapport with!

Liverpool, I love you dearly.  My friends, you are more special to me than you will ever know.  My family, you are everything that has allowed me to be who I am and supported me through everything.  When I was 19, I was a very different person.  The thought of being involved in music was just a seed of thought.  10 years on, I run a record label, have written 20 odd albums, met some amazing people and have not regretted a thing. As I prepare to turn 30 next week, I am planting more seeds of thought for where I want to be ten years from now........

Magneetic

Wow, the first chapter of the very special Magneet Festival is over.  After a month of sleeping in a tent in the sand, putting dirty socks on that turn your stomach everytime you do, drinking from a hose pipe, swimming naked in the river, singing round the campfire in a teepee at sunrise,  meeting some of the most amazing people and feeling like we had all been a part in something special, I feel proud to have been involved with such a festival.......

I was excited as soon as I saw the advert for volunteers, I knew I wanted to get there as soon as I could, I had spent the last 12 days in a tent at a noisy campsite, and my gut instinct was pulling me to the festival.  I was told to arrive on Sunday at 12, so I managed to find the place in the middle of this old industrial island in the East.  It is such a strange place, like a beach in the middle of nowhere, with sea shells everywhere!  And one big sand dyke surrounding it all.  I was completely out of clean washing by this point, had no money whatsoever, and a quarter pouch of Duin tobacco to last me.  I showed up in my dirty moleskin jacket and shirt and in the windy ness of the flat lands of Amsterdam was met with such a warm welcome by the handful of people involved from day 1.  The first job was putting up this semi circular shed to start storing things in, and though I am no trained construction worker, I helped and mucked in as much as I could.  No job was thankless no matter how small.  From moving a pile of wood from here to there, to digging a ditch for the beer, to bringing a cold beer to the workers.  The team was growing from day 1, and it seemed like a festival was starting to take shape!  Soon the big tents went up, then the decorations.  My heart will always smile for the people on 'Decoration Row'  I was looked after from the very first moment of arriving, there was always a butty and some cheese, and a cold beer to keep you going.

I did no busking in this first week, but got to know and spent some great nights singing round the campfire with some amazing people who were building the first Magneet Festival.  The Thursday night before it opened, it stunned me how many people were now here!  The campfire was roaring and I was playing guitar when these travellers from Hungary arrived, they joined in the jam and the girl was dancing and singing, and hitting the drums and throwing herself rhythmically into each note and beat.  Shimoo, was scatting and singing this hungarian song and then we went into a version of Gypsy man in new york.  The people that this festival had bought together could tell there was something special in the air about it and that Thursday night was a very memorable opening ceremony.  The second week of construction work, I had been going busking a lot more in the evening once we finished work.  I would have a few beers then go hunting for the perfect speck.  My starter bridge was just too quiet, so I moved along and found another that had a good flow of walkers on it!  And little did I know, it was only round the corner from Rembrandt plain (that is the main stage of the Amsterdam busking circuit)  I was making about 20 euroes an eveniong for a few hours of playing.  Then I would go to a coffee shop, have a cuppa tea ana joint then go back and play.  But I would just close my eyes and feel every word of the song.  People would stop and video me, and compliment my voice which was fuel to  keep me going and have a belief in what I do.  I knew though, that the ultimate prize is the rembrandt plain, but everyone there uses amplification , but at least people can sit and listen.  A week of busking that bridge and I was ready to move on to a better spot.  There was this wonderful thunderstorm one day while out busking.  So I stood under a tree and watched the rain pour and pour and soak everything.  I watched rembrandt plain empty and thought this could be my chance.  The rain soon stopped, somehow reminding me of the weather on the Truman show.  Like someone turned off a tap.  I sat and tuned my guitar, and made a walk for the statue.  I didnt care if noone was there yet, it was just my perfect time to get my foot in and see how it feels playing there!  I played Wholl stop the rain, by creedence and this girl started videoing me and gave me 5 euroes!  Then another euro came in, and another!  In the first 6 minutes I had earned a prescious meal!  I bought myself some chips and a bar of chocolate and they felt warm and good all the way down.  I felt like a mini goal was acheived by playing there!

I have felt, especially in the first few weeks, that Amsterdam is not a city, it is a game.  As soon as you arrive people hand you maps and you find all these weird and wonderful places and people!  My journal book became my inventory and missions, every penny I had was getting accounted for, I was starting to look at this like one of those role playing games.  You meet people who give you information about where to go, you have missions to find somewhere to sleep, find things to eat, make money.  You are alone in this city and you want to stay.  A bike is as good as a car for wherever you need to go.  Every hill you ride up, is equally rewarded ina  few seconds when you go down it!  The dutch people are like the Mongolian horse riders, you see them doing everything on their bike.  I was so proud when I got my bike!  Because the roads and laws are not in every sign telling you what road to be on, or when to walk, run eat and shit!  Your natural awareness comes out and you are much more on the lookout, you cant blame anyone for cutting in front of you, everyone will get where they need to get, just relax and be aware.

The Friday that the festival opened it felt like my back and been broke.  It was hurting me to walk and the first few weeks of heavy lifting had taken its toll, but I was playing a lot!  On the opening day I played on a stage made of tellys and pallets by the opening and earned a few bucks from busking.  Then I played in Rons Place and did an amazing gig that I just closed my eyes and felt every word.  This one woman cried! haha, she said she has a place in Amsterdam I could stay and gave me her email address, but I LOST IT!~  D'oh!  Oh well.  The festival felt like a baby that had grown up and got a job and a life and was no longer just mine and the people involved, but everyones.  And she was beautiful.  Anyway, time is ticking in this cafe!  So part three coming soon!

The festival will continue for two more weekends of campfires, music, hula hooping and I will be playing the campfire tonight at 8.  Proost!!!!

Amster Damn

Well, here are a few bursts of my adventures in this magical city.  Arriving in Amsterdam with these 2 French guys I got a lift with, we made it 100 meters at most before we hit the coffee shop and had our first Amsterdam joint together.  It was a special moment that, I have lived it in my mind for many years, dreaming of reaching the place where the criminality is taken away from something I enjoy doing.  Sitting in this cosy living room type cafe with people just enjoying a spliff it felt like my body had arrived where my dreams had laid.  But that is just me romanticizing the first joint, having the freedom to smoke a joint whenever you want immediately gave me a strong sense of responsibility in myself.

After the very special first joint, we wondered around, and I was getting bikes from every direction.  People riding motorbikes on the path, and no helmets, I was dazed and amazed every one of my first few hours.  You can never hide the fact it is your first time in Amsterdam, its like you have a big sign over your head.  I knew from these first moments that I wanted to stay here as long as I can.  There is so much to take in, it would be impossible to completely understand the city in a few weeks.  I spent the first few days walking round and round, never knowing where I was going, but always ending up where I was meant to be.  The flea markets are like one big second hand shop!  Selling the most amazing jackets and clothes and other prescious treasures.  After the constant walking in my 5 quid shoes my feet and legs ached all over, carrying my bag, guitar I couldnt walk no more.  I Threw my shoes and some uneeded clothes away and bought a pair of shoes and a tent.  I found a campsite that was cheap enough to at least buy me a week or so of leaving my stuff somewhere while I discovered and experienced this great city.  On the last steps my feet could carry me I found the campsite in the East of Amsterdam and set up camp there.

The next thing I needed was a bike!  And along came blue bell.  Bought for a bargain at the flea market, I had a mount!  Blue bell my bike, and Red wood my guitar.  I in these first few weeks I would ride around every square of Amsterdam finding the buskers and trying to understand the city before I started playing myself.  I knew I would need to soon, as to pay campsite fee.  But I wanted to wait till I understood her more.  I was pulled over to the statue of Rembrandt square by this wonderfully sung version of Yer Blues by this girl and lad pair.  I sat by the square and enjoyed beautifully the songs they played.  They then said this is our last song and played Don't Think Twice, my eyes welled up and I had tears in my eyes.  There have been many moments like this in Amsterdam, where her beauty and wonder just stuns me. The experience I had buying a tin and some papers and Nepalese hash from Nigel's store would make me laugh loud and smile as I rode on my bike thinking about.  It might be hard to translate in words, but he struggled to add up the total on the calculator and tried to do it in his head but couldn't, then I tried and couldn't so we settled on 8 euros.  Will always tickle me that moment.

After a week I started busking.  I felt I knew her a lot more to play music in her streets.  It's not as if your singing to the people who pass, but to Amsterdam herself.  Offering her what you have, and seeing if she will take you in.  If you respect Amsterdam, she will respect you.  That's the way the roads work, and the laws.  Just look out for other people and get to where you need to go, use nearly any road or path you like, but be careful.  Now I had a campsite, I found a perfect lake and park to go and learn some new songs.  I knew I had to up my repatoire loads, so I started memorizing Dylan lyrics in the tent and then playing the guitar and singing them in the park.  I got a load on board and did my first busk.  In the first 40 minutes I had made 12 Euros so I got myself a cuppa, had a smoke and then went back.  There are so many bridges in Amsterdam and it is so quiet of a city there a many great and perfect places to busk.  I found the perfect starter bridge and closed my eyes and played.  A woman came upto me and just gave me 15 Euros in notes and said thank you.  I felt that was Amsterdams way of saying yes to me.  So I started to memorise more songs and go more frequently.  It was then that I seen an advert for volunteer help at this festival.  So I immediately got in touch and that will be part 2.  PHEW.  Feels like I have unloaded a few of my very special first moments of life in Amsterdam!  Doooey!

Out of the water....

I set out last summer to Paris, and my first adventure out of England had begun.  Katy, who was letting me stay at hers met me at the Station, and when I tried to greet her, I realised the charm of a scouse accent was lost, as she didn't understand a word I said.  My first thoughts of knowing that I needed to learn the language dawned on me.  I had a phrase book I had browsed on the train, but no grasp at all to how alien I would feel only being able to speak English.  We took the metro to her place and spoke on the way.  I got a safe feeling from Katy and knew I had met someone who would proudly show me the French way of life.  We arrived at her place and I ate my first French baguette and cheese, as we drunk wine she asked me about the symbol around my necklace.

For the last 7 years I had believed and tried to follow the Raelian philosophy.  It is a deep thing that I would not like to try and explain over a blog, but in short it believes in Intelligent design over mythical gods, or random chance.  I had always been proud to be wearing my necklace in England, but suddenly I felt like it may not be as easily explainable in French.  It has a star of David outside of a Swastika and can cause some people to ask me whether I am Jesish or Nazi.  I would start wearing it back to front, so as not to arise debate that I couldn't defend in the French language.  Plus, I was learning to start to let go everything I understood and believed to be right at this point in my life.  Getting out of the British culture that I had overdosed on and been suffocated with was starting to make me look at life a different way.  I think it was a combination of leaving my twenties and leaving the country.

After a few weeks and spending nearly all the money I had took with me, I set out busking.  It was hard.  Paris was noisy, wet and busy.  I needed a quiet place for just the acoustic guitar to carry, but I found it hard to find the right spots outside.  I busked in the arch at La'Louvre and made 15 euroes in an hour.  Was very pleased, so bought some food and a pint and went back.  to earn nothing in an hour.  And then to be moved on the police!  I decided to try the metro stations, you need a permit to play here, but I thought what the hell.  I aint got nothing to eat, no train fare back and any prospect of money.  I went to the metro close to Pont Neuf and made about 15 Euroes again.  I had some good responses from the Metro station and was quite pleased, I had nearly earned enough to get me West to Orleans and Bretagne, where I planned to go next.  As I was counting out my money I seen a big crowd gathering at a Brazillian guy playing guitar and singing through his amp.  I began to think an amp was much more important than I first thought.

 I  found a car that was going to Orleans, I just needed to pay 10 Euroes for petrol.  I got to Orleans and was struck by it's atmosphere.  It was where Joan of Arc was from and had a staunch militant atmosphere to the place.  Still beautiful, but not like Paris.  I sensed an aggression in the streets walked by 'Punkshwa' with big and many dogs.  I began to feel incredibly English.  The weather turned burningly hot the next day, I went to this outdoor festival to see a contemporary dance routine, it made me smile at it's strangeness.  There seemed to be festivals all over France, very small ones scattered about that all celebrate what they love.  When the summer solstice hit Paris they had a big outdoor brass band spectacular in all the streets.  Truly magical memory that was.  I only spent a few days in Orleans as I had managed to find a car that was leaving for Rennes on Monday, I dared not busk in Orleans, wasn't the right place for it.....Rennes was though.........

Zappas Vibrations

Although I speak with so much love for my studio space, it does come with its challenging sides; mainly, the noise. You can have it all cos...