After a night on the streets of Berlin, I was waiting for
the bus for fusion to arrive, watching the festival goers in their sunny gear
and crates of German ale.Here I was in
a suit with just a guitar on my back.I
hadn’t taken any luggage on the plane because it would have cost much more for the
ticket.I had a look at the ticket for
the bus I had printed off and felt a wave of worry it me as it said ‘You cannot
board this bus without your festival ticket, please respect’ I didn’t have a
ticket; Danni was going to meet me at the gate and get me in, I kept going over
the story I was going to tell them.If I
couldn’t have got on this bus I would have been screwed.No money, no energy and no way back to
England.
They started boarding the bus and didn’t even ask me for a
ticket.I thought ‘Phew!’ That’s the
chilled out vibe of the fusion though.And it made me smile to think of the previous 2 years I had been at the
festival.Never any trouble, just happy
dancing, drinking Germans.I really love
the German people and culture.The first
year I was there was a magical time.I
would find myself in stitches by how they spoke, how they happily waited in
long lines for water, never complained.I’m smiling now just thinking of them.
I settle down on the bus with a nice bit of legroom and just
fall asleep straight away.The Germans
are very quiet and respectful people, it wasn’t a bus full of rowdy loud
drunks, and they all just quietly chattered and talked between them.We arrive about 4 hours later and I try to
find someone with a phone so I can send a text message to Danni to tell her I
am here.I went to the front desk after
5 people I asked couldn’t get a signal.I chatted to the guys on the front desk, and they were so nice while I
waited giving me a bottle of water and cup of coffee, the sun was burning down
and I felt it was gonna be a great festival.
Flits, who is Danni’s son came to meet me at the entrance, I
get my ticket give a salut to the guys on the front desk, they had been so
nice.I then head to our camp to meet
Danni.She always has the best most
prepared set up and I could smell the coffee the nearer we got.Again, I was running on an energy I didn’t
know I had.But getting into the
festival and that little sleep on the bus had given me a good recharge.I was so full of life and as soon as I jumped
on the coffee bar, the charm came out and the Germans were queuing up for a cup
of the special stuff.
Like sleeping on the streets and being in Berlin again, the
fusion was reminding me so much of Nizha.Last year we had fallen in love so deeply, the fusion had really bonded
us.The familiar sites, the smells the
sounds all of it just made me more conscious that she wasn’t here and I wished
that she was.In the isolation of
Argentina, many times I would miss Amsterdam and Berlin.I would wish I was there drinking a Berliner
Pilsener or smoking a joint in De Graal.Well, here I was and without Nizha it was shit.
The reality started to hit me more and more and I would
think of Nizha alone in the desert while I am at the biggest party in
Europe.Things were feeling bad, and I
couldn’t escape the the fact I felt I was moving backwards.I had done the festival season, and in style!All over Holland, 2 months at Magnet (twice),
Ruigoord, ADM.I didn’t really feel like
dancing drinking and partying, but I did enjoy making the coffee again and
seeing Danni, Wytze and Flits.
I had been eating so good in Argentina, Niz is an amazing
cook and would always cook these great meals with veg, potato and salad.I would only have 2 coffees a day and was in
a good rhythm with everything.Since
being back in Europe I had been on coffees all day, fried food, lots of pissy
beer.After that studio job and drinking
that shitty tinny ale all day I came home and threw up.I just felt I was putting so much bad stuff
into my body and the festival was going to be more of the same.But Danni does make great food aswell, and we
eat a good meal each day, but you can’t escape what you are putting into your
body, lots of strong coffee, beer, vino, rum, cakes and all the other stuff
that tastes great but is bad for you.I
think that time in the desert had truly changed me.My body had become so used to eating good stuff
that it was struggling to go back to the old ways.
I felt fearless also.Taking a trip to the desert of South America with a 1 way ticket and no
way to get back, and then making the album we made, learning a lot of Spanish,
riding the motorbike through the mountains it had changed me. I just felt, and still feel fearless.I had a very strong energy and some lovely
German girls were really attracted to me and literally throwing themselves at
me!But none were ever as beautiful as
Nizha, and I was never tempted.Why risk
losing someone that you have been looking for all your life, for some squidgy
drunk sex in a dirty tent?
Niz was in my thoughts constantly, every train of thought I
had returned to her.And even if I was
thinking of something else, she was still there with it.I was glad I had made this journey though,
because it made me truly realise what I wanted and how I felt about
things.With Nizha, we move forward, we
move on we conquer our fears together and become stronger from it.I felt I had made a step backwards, but kept
a strong heart and persevered as you must.
The only way you can deal with 70% people drinking, dancing
and popping is to join them.I did, and
I am sometimes cursed with a vision.The
rain had came from the second day and lasted till Sunday.And on one morning when I returned to set up
the coffee bar, this grey wet drizzly morning had made everything soggy and
sluggy, grey light made things seem grey.Peoples eyes were all crooked, their jaws chewing and I just felt a real
sense of not belonging.Of thinking that
I am done with this.Chep phony chemical
highs were people are your best friend for a few hours was just not attractive
to me.
The festival passed and we packed up and made our way to
Groningen in the East of Holland.I
stayed there a night and then took a train to Amsterdam.The place that had been most in my thoughts
while I was in the desert.I thought I
would feel good there, OK maybe the festival wasn’t right for my frame of mind,
but Amsterdam and my bike and Degraal would be, wouldn’t it?
I got through the door after my four day journey and wondered how I had got here. It had seemed like another world away less than a week ago. I had made it back to Blighty after being in another world in the mountains. I was running on some kind of energy I didn't know I had. When you know you have a big journey you put yourself into a different mindset and put your engine into overdrive. When I got home at 6am in the morning I was still on this energy. I spent a couple of hours taking a shaower, eating something and trying to adjust to being back in this familiar world. By 12 I was heading out to go busking.
With no money and a debt for the ticket hanging over my head, I set off to Chester and tried to get used to busking again. For the last 3 months Niz and I had not really played live, all energies were on mixing and recording. It took a while to try and get back in the mindset. It was slow going, but steady and I made a few quid but I was shaking as I was playing. I was empty. For nearly a week I hadn't slept lying down, hadn't slept at all really. But there I was, trying to 'sing my heart out' on the streets. After a few hours I headed back home.
The weather was so beautiful, a crisp, bright and green June day. The sun here felt so fresh. In the desert it was a hard dry sun, that sucked the life and energy out of everything. Here, it brought out the life. The birds were singing and darting from bush to bush, the green was glowing emerald and I could hear English being spoken all around me. I breathed it all in and it felt good to be back and just wished Niz was with me to see England warm and sunny.
I was out busking each day for a week that I was back in England. Trying to get enough money to pay back this ticket that my beautiful friend Dani had helped me buy. I spoke to her on Skype and she tells me that a ticket has turned up for the legendary fusion festival with my name on it, as I am part of the crew. I couldn't argue with fate and prepared myself to head to Berlin. I had a studio job the next day and that would pay my flight over to Berlin and my lovely friend Anja said I could stay at hers the night I got there, so still without a good rest I take the plane to Berlin.
I get there and I always love the atmosphere you feel when you get there. No troubles, just happy people about carrying a beer most of the time! I take the train to Anjas in the South West arriving a bit late and ring the door bell. No answer, I try again a couple of times and still nothing. I sigh, and think about what to do. I took the train to a place I thought I knew that had an internet cafe, I get there and it is a different place. I walk up and down the ancient empty streets with no internet cafe's in sight. Being now on the other side of town, with no more trams running I buy a couple of beers from the all night shop, put on all my shirts and an extra vest and curl up in a doorway trying to get some sleep.
The night before it had hail stoned, and the night was still bitter cold. I had not bought a coat, just a jacket and lay there until 4 am shivering with my eyes closed and curled up. Feeling groggy and so tired I walk to the metro station and see a train waiting. I press the button on the door and it opens! I walk into a warmth, find a seat, use my guitar as a pillow and sleep. It was a circular line train, so it was just going round a circle round the centre of Berlin. I stayed on it for 2 hours dozing, being woken by the people getting on and off as the city starts to come to life. At 6.30 am I get off, I have about 8 euroes to my name and find a cheap grande coffee for 1.50. I start to get myself in motion and find the place where the bus leaves at 10.10am for the fusion festival.
I get there and again sit, walk, eat a little and just kill 3 hours. It's hard to kill time sometimes, but I am getting so used to it now. My heart and mind were constantly on Nizha. Our first night in Berlin together, we had slept on a park bench. I felt so lost and lonely without her. The energy I had been running on to get back to Europe was starting to ware off, and the heartache of being without my wife was eating away at me rapidly.
I loved travelling on my own previously, you are your own island, you are your own direction. But as soon as I met Niz, I found my partner in everything. Everything was better and more exciting with her. The music, the travels, the people we meet. We are such a great combo, and now feeling like I am back on my own was killing me. It was like a giant step backwards. With Niz, we move forward and push eachother to be stronger in everything. Here I am on my own, after a night on the streets killing time and feeling like shit without her.
Download our album ‘Where The Days Have No Name’ full of harmony and love in every way.
Follow us on Soundcloud
Like us on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/deadseacaravan
And visit our digital HQ at www.deadseacaravan.com
The last 4 weeks have been a constant movement all over the place. I always feel movement is life, when you are in motion you feel alive, but this last month has taken the life out of me. The last couple of blog entries just turned out to be heartbroken rants about missing Nizha, so now I will try and piece together the chain of events that has led me once again back to Liverpool....
From the moment my friend called and said she would help with my ticket, it was a mad rush to pack everything and leave that very instant. It started with a 5 hour drive from San Carlos to Salta with Niz and her father. He was leaving for Tilcara that day, so we could get to Salta with him and stay at the place where we first stayed together when I first got there. The lovely house of Miguel. England were playing that night, and I got all proud hoping they would show some lions pride, then to see them beaten was saddening. The drive to Salta through the mountains is always spectacular. They have changed shape through millions of years of Sun and Rain. They look like giant man made sculptures. Truly natures gallery.
We spend our final night in Salta, with the reality still not hitting me fully yet. I had loved everything of the desert with Niz, I missed home sometimes and could feel the European summer ticking away and the chance to make some good money and busk in some beautiful cities. Niz was hoping to get her ticket for not long after me, but I needed to be on a good energy for this trip. Not leave with a sad broken heart but get ready for 4 days of buses, planes, trains and killing time. The next morning we walked through Salta, past all the hungry dogs, bought my favourite chocolate bar and cigarettes and then I left for a 24 hour bus ride from the mountains to Buenos Aires. It was strange saying goodbye to Niz, not breaking up but seperating for a while is a mixed emotion. I knew she wouldnt be far behind me though. Argentina had been an incredible life changing experience, but I needed to digest it all and take it in.
The bus started its journey and a guy came round giving us all a sandwhich, galletitas and coca cola, I thought 'oooh this is nice'. Then a TV screen came down and they started playing a film, I thought 'Oooh, what could this be?' It turns out it was a film called 'Seal Team Six' and it was about the 'killing' of Osama Bin Laden. It really reminded me of one of those Nazi propaganda films that were written to stir up military support and patriotism of the great imaginary militant victories. I thought this was a strange choice, as it made sleeping impossible. Every few minutes, loud gun fire and screaming would be booming through the speakers, waking the child asleep on her mothers breast opposite me. It got about 2 thirds the way through and then started to skip and the disk failed. I only caught the last few minutes of it, but it was a strange film, truly.
The next was a Spanish dubbed version of A Will Smith Thriller involving aliens and a dog. And yes, the soundtrack of screams and gunshots were continued. This only lasted 20 or so minutes before the disk failed, and for an hour it slowly skipped along, playing mili seconds of flickering guns and screams and then they switched it off. It was starting to get dark, maybe about 6 hours in and we still hadn't stopped for a break to smoke. I was getting wound up a little bit, because then the next film was this Sylvester Stallone film, called 'Bullet Through The Head' again, it was dubbed in Spanish, but the familiar soundtrack of guns and screams still ever prevalent. It was after this film had finished, (the only one so far to play completely from start to finish) that the DVD menu was on a loop for about half an hour. You know when it loops a music and it cuts and loops constantly. This was sending me loco, and I thought 'Fuck this, I'm gonna smoke a ciggie in the toilet' I went to the toilet and seen a window and some ash and thought 'Ahhhhhhhhh'. I lit up the most delicous cigarette I could probably ever have tasted and get a bang on the door. I flick the ciggie out the window and say 'Ola?' No response so I spark up another, that never tastes as good as that first interupted ciggie, but still did the job of de-stressing me. I walk up the stairs to my seat and find the DVD loop off, and a cozier atmosphere. I sit down, close my eyes and the bus stops for a break.
We step out into this truck stop and I immedietely get a Quillmes cerveza and pour it down my neck. Smoking another 3 cigarettes, I walk to a stall nearby and buy some chocolates and crisps and another cerveza, Argentina are playing their match and the religous atmosphere attached to football was thick as ever. They scored a goal, we all cheered, I bought one more cerveza for the road and got back on the bus. They insisted on putting another film on, I sighed but then it actually looked quite good. Some time travel bull shit propaganda, but a cut above the ones previous, and in English. They had even lowered the volume, I could just about make it out, and then these 3 muchachos sitting right behind decided it was time for their party. They slept and snored through the whole journey up to now, and just as I was about to get some shut eye, they bring out the beers and start talking loud, right down my ear. I was cursing them in English, using my guitar as a pillow I sat through the next 6 hours with my eyes closed, not sleeping but just on standby mode. You are always awoken by a bump or a voice, usually just as you are drifting off.
Morning light was rising, and we were approaching Buenos Aires, I hurried to get off the bus as it stopped. My knees ache because I'm so tall and the seats are so small. Still groggy and sleepy I stretch my legs, light a cigarette and just pick a direction to walk. I had 14 hours until my flight to Madrid, first thing first...Un Cafe, por favor. A nice coffee for a bit of energy at a lovely little cafe. Seeing Buenos Aires like this was incredible. Such a huge city, and after being in the North, were the towns are tiny and underdeveloped, to come to this city was a taste of what Europe is, the busy bees, the traffic, the fast flow of city life, from the slow paced beauty of the rhythm of the desert.
I found a metro and headed towards where I needed to get to for the bus. But first I had a Lomita, a steak sandwhich with egg and cheese, one of my favourite meals in Argentina, and this one was huge and delicous. I took a walk to 'El Torres De Inglais' (The Tower of the English) Which was quite fitting for me, I smoked yet another cigarette, it was a beautiful day and the city looked so wonderful. When I arrived in Buenos Aires in January, it was heavy grey and wet. The bus took a route going through all kinds of ugly buildings, and sad hanging trees. But seeing her like this was so beautiful.
My Spanish was coming along good aswell, it was a necessity in Argentina for me. Niz speaks perfect English, and would translate everything, and give me lessons (She loved being the teacher :) And I was quiet confident with conversations and ordering things. I found the bus service that takes you to the airport and got a ticket. I went to the airport and got ready to 'kill' 9 hours. It was slow, making an expensive beer last an hour until its warm and flat and tastes terrible, watching Germany destroy Portugal in the world cup, wondering around, trying to find coins to phone Niz, just killing time. I think that is the most tiring thing about travelling, is waiting for time to pass. Willing hours to wash away, and they always do. Time never stops, and when you are at the beginining of your journey, you think 'Will I ever get to the finish line?' And you always do. Time is one continually moving moment, that never stops.
The time for check in came, and I did the usual routine of baggage checks and security pass points. Stepping on the plane for Madrid I could feel that one step closer to Europa. I would get these twinges in my heart and stomach, just wishing Niz was with me. We thought we would do this journey together and come back married, but it was not meant to be at that moment so you have to keep strong and focused, but the twinges of missing her were hurting. But I knew I would be in a better position financially to make money in Europe. All the money had gone in the desert house, and it was tough times, I felt like I couldn't bring home the bread. The winds were howling, the little vino town of Cafayate, empty. I felt I was doing the right thing, but it hurt to be on my own.
I get to my seat on the plane, sigh that the waiting is over and find right in front of me one of those wild children, screaming and making horrible noises, crawling over people and pulling things from the seats. I look at the little brat with a stare that says 'Sit down and shut the fuck up, I am not in the mood for you' The creature retreated to its mothers arms and would be quiet for while then pop his head round for another stare out. It's horrible, that just as you are dropping off to sleep the noise of a scream wakes you up again. You get irritated after 36 hours of that. The flight lady came round with headphones and I put them straight in and loud, watched some Lord of The Rings and a sailing documentary and slept maybe a couple of hours before the morning cries of the 2 demon children woke me up.
We were nearly in Madrid, where it was 5 hours ahead. So setting off at 9pm at night and arriving at 2pm the next day, wasn't so bad. The long haul flights are quite comfortable (apart from the kids). We touch down at Madrid, and the next step for me was to try and have a ciggie before we changed for London. I went through this maze of Escalators only to be faced with a one way Que for immigration. I was supposed to be changing over, so I didn't need to do this, I gave up on the cigarette, went through immigration then just made it to the platform as the plane was boarding for London.
Aching and tired, smelling and feeling so hungry I got on the seat and just collapsed to sleep. It was 3 hours to London and it went by in a flash. I had a window seat, but couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to see the view. The plane touches down in London, and I step onto English soil. From the plane I seen how green she was as we were landing. I had gotten so used to sand and stones and cactus that seeing good fertile old blighty made me smile. Though we may hate the rain, but it has been a major reason for Northern Europe developing so quickly into massive countries. When you can grow good crops and flowers and plants, you will expand. When food is hard to grow, expansion is slow. The sky was smeared with jet trails though, almost filling up all the blue with grey. Always sad to see this, in Argentina the skies were clear blue every single day, with a few fluffy clouds. Never overcast, and never filled with smears from jets.
I am waiting for customs in a big line, and as I approach the front I see one woman with a really bad face, I think to myself 'God, I hope I don't get her' as this thought was leaving my head, her eyes called me over... 'Ola' I say with as much niceness I can muster after 48 hours of travelling. 'Where have you been?' she asks, her hand holding a pen, and her eyes searching for something she thinks I may be hiding. 'Argentina' I say politley back 'With my girlfriend' 'How long where you there?' 5 months I say, and she asks me to take a seat over there, while she takes my passport in another room.
I sit for maybe 4 minutes on this chair, smiling to myself. I am still running on an energy from somewhere just to get me home. She comes towards me and says 'Ok, thank you, here is your passport' And watches me go to collect my luggage. I wait for the luggage with the same old thoughts running through my head. What if its gone, what have I lost, and so on' But there it came. My good old Carlton International case. I pick it up and head for the exit when I hear 'Can you come with us please, sir?' The woman at the customs had told them to wait till I pick up my bag to then search me. I say sure thing.....
We head over to the room and they start going through my case, asking me what have I been doing in Argentina. I suddenly felt this proud energy come over me, and I tell them that I have been making the best album of my life, with the love of my life. They probe more, and the more they probe the more impassioned I become. They ask me about my life, my music, everything and I tell thim with such an enthusiasm about making music and understanding life that I have a small crowd gathered round me. My voice booming as I tell them that the atmosphere in airports is so sad as it is filled with people wishing time away, that you become grey if you stay there too long. They try and get little jibes at my life, going through my notebooks full of lyrics reading them, me telling them what that song meant and such. I was truly shining, and at the end they said 'We should be doing what your doing' I smiled, said Adios and found the nearest door to light a much needed cigarette.
I found a train that was heading to the underground, and I jumped on with no ticket. A guard came up after 2 stops and asked for ticket. I told him how my card had gone through the washing machine and it only works with swipe. He said no problem, he can swipe. Then when he said 26 quid, I nearly vomited in his face. I said 'What! Mate, I only have 20 quid in my account, and thats to get some food and get to Liverpool, I was expecting 4 quid!' I told him of my journey, and he said 'Don't worry mate, it's all good and just walked on. I sighed and got ready to get to the underground and to the coach station. Arriving at Kings Gate, I tried my card to no avail, then noticed an open ticket booth, I just walked straight in and got on the subway. Getting out I just jumped behind some guy with a suitcase like it was the most natural thing in the world.
London Victoria. This is always the place I am in in London. Where the coaches go, I had a few hours to kill before my bus to Liverpool and went to a sainsburys. I told them about my card, that it needs to swipe, I had picked up some nice egg and bacon buttys, crisps chocolate and fruit drink. Card Error Card Error, please swipe. I swiped, and it worked! Phew, I was so hungry. I sat in the middle of the street, gutzed my buttys and drank my Cerveza (San Miguel) Next up was a 6 hour bus ride to Liverpool. I got on, found the back seat and just collapsed. The megabus sleeps are hard. Virtually impossible to get comfy with my legs. I rested then got to Liverpool at 4 in the morning. How I love to see it so tranquil and empty about to awake. I walk to the docks and look at my home town of the Wirral from accross the river. Always looks so beautiful, it was a lovely warm morning, I played my guitar for an hour and waited till the trains started running.
The guy at the station lets me on for free, didn't even attempt to listen to my story about my card and journey, I jump on the train and take that ever so familiar ride home, under the Mersey to the Wirral Peninsula. I touch the ground that seemed another world away less than a week away. I had made it, even though without Niz, I had fucking made it. I put the key in the front door, put the kettle on, sit in our beautiful green garden and smoke a cigarette. My step father was up at militant hours as always, and with a mildly affectionate groan welcomed me back home. There were a set of multi coloured socks on my bed, and a towel and a flat bed to sleep in. I had made it. 4 days of motion had got me to the point that seemed another world away when I started the journey.
Download our album ‘Where The Days Have No Name’ full of harmony and love in every way.
Follow us on Soundcloud
Like us on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/deadseacaravan
And visit our digital HQ at www.deadseacaravan.com
I am still unsure of what to write and in what order, so instead I just need to start and see where it goes. The age old mantra of the writer 'I need to write more' always going through my head lately. So here we are, I am in Amsterdam with just one thing on my mind. How to get Nizha back.
To be so quickly parted was a delayed shock for me, I was running on an energy from somewhere to get to Liverpool after an incredible 5 months in the desert with my true love. We planned to get married, but since the beauracratic system can often take its time, especially in Argentina, where things naturally take longer. It didn't happen. We didn't marry by paper, but our souls became married and bonded in a very special way. 'Our baby' which is the fantastic and beautiful album we made, so full of love and both of us is something that will live forever.
I miss Argentina so much, and Nizha. It was hard there at times, I would miss the things I was so used to. I thought I would enjoy a little dose of Europe to fill me up, but it is just torture without Nizha. I know we can build a great musical life together and do wonderful things and have incredible adventures and live in love and excitement. She is my girl, my partner in everything, and now we need to get her here, so if you are reading this you have to download the album just below for a fiver and help a mate and a dreamer be with his true love and happy. Whats a fiver for a good karma investment. Do it now please.
Download our album ‘Where The Days Have No Name’ full of harmony and love in every way.
Follow us on Soundcloud
Like us on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/deadseacaravan
And visit our digital HQ at www.deadseacaravan.com
My body and mind are all in different places and what makes it worse is that all of them are aching to be with Nizha. It was so fast how it happened, me leaving. For weeks we were trying and planning to get back to Europe, then I get a phone call on skype from my friend and she says she will help with my ticket. From that moment we had to rush and pack my stuff and then I started a 4 day journey to get back to Europe. From San Carlos to Salta to Buenos Aires to Madrid to London to Liverpool to Berlin to Amsterdam. All this movement has been constant, and tiring. But you find the energy from somwhere to keep going. But when that fades, the reality hits you. You question wether you made the right choice when your true love is again, far far away.
There were times in the desert when I would dream of Amsterdam, riding my bike, drawing in De Graal. I missed the music of Liverpool, English and my friends. And now I am here, it is all shit. Nothing is good without Nizha, the music is empty, the bike ride lonely and my heart constantly aches. But I believe it was the right thing to do to come here. The economy is so hard in Argentina it was impossible to make 2000 for us both to get here, but me being here I have a way to make money and bring her here. And right now, that is my only mission. I also think a little time away is a good thing, it allows you to see what you truly want. And alls I want is Nizha..
We are like 2 bodies living as a single entity. Inspereable and telepathic. I swear there were times when she read my mind. She knows me better than I know myself. My partner in every way. My true love, I know this because I have still not seen a girl as beautiful and never will. My best friend, my writing partner, my drawing partner, my wife, my travelling partner and my bandmate. She is everything to me, and without her I rot. Truly. But now I am focused, a few more days in Amsterdam then back to Liverpool to work and busk hard so that in a few weeks she can be here.
When I first got to the desert I felt so much inspiration to write songs, the mountains in the window and perfect isolation. I came up with lots of ideas and when fused with Nizha they would become so special. A Desert Prayer is the 'big song'on the album that goes on a journey to many different sections. They started off as different songs but we put them together to make something grand. Every idea I would have would be driven by wanting to make Nizha smile and say 'Oooh that's a good one' and then when she would write melodies and string arrangements that would make me go 'WOW'. We are a great writing team, she would inspire me to push myself further and do something even better than I ever had and could before. No song on that album is weighted towards one of us. Each one is a stereo mix of both of us. Half of me, half of Nizha. Like our baby. She would help me with melodies, and I would help her with lyrics, she would give me the guidance for direction and I would come up with some nice chord changes. Everything was written and inspired and made by both of us, my true writing partner.
I would also draw these pictures, these strange mazes of black and white which were very interesting. One time I messed one up by trying to put colour into it. I asked her if she could rescue it by colouring it in, and then I watched as she breathed life and colour and harmony to these drawings. Again, I smiled knowing that we were bonded again creatively. I draw the lines and she brings them to life. She is the colour of my world.
I don't have energy to write anymore. My stomach is empty and heart is heavy. Miss my girl like crazy and need to head out into the rain to make some coins.
Download our album ‘Where The Days Have No Name’ full of harmony and love in every way.
Follow us on Soundcloud
Like us on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/deadseacaravan
And visit our digital HQ at www.deadseacaravan.com
