The 4 Seasons

It has now been almost a year since I sold everything I owned, gave up my BBC job and record label in Liverpool and set out for some adventure in the big wide world.  I have now spent all 4 seasons in the miniature wide and beautiful world of Amsterdam, and I find myself still drawn to stay here even longer.  But first, I need to document how I spent the Winter here.  It has been a real rewarding challenge that has made me appreciate more than you could realise, these sprinklings of Spring that are showing themselves after this dark Winter tunnel.

It was the end of November, I had just returned from a 10 day visit to Liverpool.  I stepped off the plane in Amsterdam, with nil euroes to my name and bunked the train to the centrum.  I was staying with Cato and Chiel, and needed to get to the East.  I jumped on the train at central to get to Muiderport with no ticket and just hoped I wouldn't get caught.  As I was on the train I seen 4 ticket collectors steam rolling towards me.  I thought 'Shit!' But stayed calm and hoped they wouldn't get to me in the 6 minutes I had until the train reached the station.  They got to me though, and when they asked me for my ticket I pretended to search for it in all of my 12 pockets that were full of old tickets, wrappers, backy, all kinds.  It was 2 minutes until I reached the station and I was telling him I had it somewhere.  We reached the station and I told him this was my stop, and he said you are not getting off until you show me your ticket.  I kept looking for it, and then he finally let it go and let me off the train and said you need to buy one off me next time I see you. I jumped off the train and found my bike, it still felt a little strange being back.  It was like I had to completely re-motivate myself for being here.  I felt I had lost all the momentum I had built up over the summer and Autumn, and in the cold biting wind of an approaching Winter, needed to find the drive to keep going.

I dashed from the station and rode Trigger to Cato and Chiel's and it was really great to see them again.  We had just finished recording her very special album 'Aardig Beest' before I left, and through the Autumn I was living in her garden house.  With a wood fire to cook my coffee, no electricity, just candle and firelight and my acoustic guitar.  They were very special days to me them, but come Winter the water gets turned off and it is too cold to sleep in there.  They were in the middle of decorating their bedroom, so I was sleeping on a matress next to the dinner table.   For 2 weeks, in what I call 'The Porridge Days' because their kids are up at half 5, and the day begins with a bowl of porridge around the table.  I would try and sleep right next to it, just to get a few extra hours in.  I helped them decorate and finish the room, which they now decided to turn into a studio so we could record another album. I had my matress on the floor and a studio to build and decorate.  We did a great job, and recorded 6 really great and different electronic/hip hop/dance songs.  I still needed to go out busking though, and needed to find a route that would look after me over the Winter.  I found it in 2 places.




Waterlooplein, the gypsys were still holding the spot in the day, they don't speak English and were quite aggressive towards me when I played there.  So I thought, if I beat them to it and get there at 11 am, I can make a few coins until they hold the spot for the whole day.  It was working.  Some mornings I would make 30 Euroes in an hour.  Sometimes only a few, but it was enough to see me through the day.  Some of them were a bit pissed off with me, but I held my ground and they started to be nice to me.  Asking if they could play afterwards, to which I always said 'Natuurlijk'.  I felt diplomacy had to ensue, instead of war.  But I felt I had a right to play on that spot just as much as they.  So when they started to be nice, and I was speaking in Dutch to them, it made me happy.  They never play there on Thursday or Saturday, so I had the place to myself then.  I also found the perfect night spot..

Max Eiuweplein - This is just outside the Hard Rock Cafe, and it is forbidden to busk there, but you can get away with just playing for an hour.  It is a tourist nest and has such a quiet and protected acoustic shelter from the weather and wind. It used to be a prison during the war where the Germans held the Jews, and knowing that makes you understand the sombre quietness of this spot.  Whenever I play 'Well meet again' I try to think of them.  I think if you respect your busking spot, it looks after you well.  Don't litter it, don't overwork it, don't be a noisy burden, just use the quietness of the spot to offer your heart in music to the city.  It was working indeed.  I was making between 20 and 50 euroes an hour there, and felt I had 2 life lines to get me through Winter.

 It was colder than I had ever experienced whilst playing.  My fingers would burn, sting and tear with each chord. The cold bites through however many layers you wrap up in.  When it snows, and you are standing on ice for two hours playing steel strings with no gloves, it starts to make your feet feel like blocks of ice. Within half an hour it has risen to your empty belly. The cold from your fingers crawls up to your chest, like slow biting mites working their way through your whole body.  It would break out in random snow and hail storms.  Sometimes wind would come from nowhere and almost knock you off the bridge.  I did it though.  Never complained, I felt like it was making me a stronger person.  I set out on these travels to become an acoustic songsmith and find myself musically.  What I have found, is that it is not just music a travelling street musician experiences, but life itself.  You feel every single day.  You feel the seasons.  You wake up each day and look out your window, and hope with all your heart for a bit of blue sky and a shine in the air. I am eating food I would never have eaten before I left.  Appreciating a good cup of coffee each morning like it is my first and last.  Toughening myself up and becoming a stronger man, physically and mentally.  You humble yourself completely when you have no job, no home, no money and just a guitar on your back and a positive heart.  You come to appreciate and feel the warmth of those that help you through.  I had help from the most special and beautiful of people.



Amsterdam is a very international city.  That's why I love it here!  It's a mini world, with people from all corners of the earth attracted to the magic that's always in the air here.  In each social group there are usually at least 3 continents present.  And when you are standing in the streets singing and playing music, you meet all kinds.  Random people just come up and speak to you, offer you a place to stay, give you a beer, a joint, a hug, a few euroes, sometimes a lot of euroes, tell you how that song your singing means this or that to them.  It is truly an amazing way to experience the city.  Making enough to get some food and warm yourself up for an hour, then heading back out to it.  I have found a place that does Turkish Pizzas for 1 euro!  And they are one of the best I have tasted.  I am more conscious now of what I am eating.  Understanding protein and fibre and carbs and all that.  You can live well here, for not much money.  But you find the city always takes your money somehow.  But it is a great ride.  You make a bit of money in the city, just to give it back to the city.  Ride the wave of the Amsterdam experience.

But away from the pot and prozzys and the glitz of Amsterdam, lies a very beautiful Dutch culture that I was immersed in whilst living with Cato and Chiel and their kids. For two months I really felt a part of their family.  It was a warm home, and I feel we were a helping hand to eachother.  I was eating great Dutch meals, and learning to speak and understand it more and more. I came back from Liverpool demotivated and scared by the winter.  They helped me through it with a love and helping hand that I will always appreciate.  In just over a month this beautiful girl I had met here returned from her travels, and we had promised to spend Christmas together at her place.  I was so excited for it, I used all my busking money just buying her presents.  I would play for an hour; make some money, then go round the shops looking for things that would bring a smile to her face on Christmas day.  I had the best Christmas that I have ever had.  It was like a magical warm bubble of a world that as I write these words I am smiling at the thought.  I stayed at her place from Christmas, all through January and fell completely in love with her.

I was doing good with my busking all through the build up to Christmas.  Getting by ok.  January was the hardest month I have ever felt though.  It took a lot of strength to head out into a snow snowstorm and play.  I am not good with money 'It comes and goes, it rolls and flows, through the holes in the pockets of my clothes'.  I only own one pair of pants, and they do have holes in both front pockets.  But I use my back two pockets.  Left for Euroes, right for lucky coins.  One day while out busking, there was a layer of ice and snow all around.  I started off down Waterlooplein, I was playing for about ten minutes and made 1.50 in small coins.  Then the gypsys came, and just started playing right over me, about fifteen meters down the road.  I tried to compete with the saxophone but couldn't.  I felt damn, and headed to Max Eiweplein,  It is hard to play in the day here,  The guy who lives above always comes down angrilly.  Like the guy on the train in the film 'Ghost' Get out of here, never play here again!  I thought I had to risk it and went there to play.  There was a thin ice on the marble walkway and I started playing.  Within 20 minutes I had made 5 euroes and then the guy came down.  I tried to reason with him and say I am so hungry and have nowhere else to play.  But he wouldn't listen so on I had to go.  I had enough for something to eat though.

 I bought a salad from Heijn and some chocolate and saved enough for a coffee at De Graal. I was sitting outside in a doorway eating my salad, when a homeless guy came up and asked me 'how are the streets treating you?.  It was the fact he instantly talked to me as a fellow street earner, without asking me for money.  We talked for ten minutes as he told me of his hardships.  My feet like blocks of ice, my belly now at least full a bit, I headed to De Graal.  A failed day of busking, but a success in terms of getting something to eat.  I felt so low at this point.

My friend Annabelle was playing a gig close by that night, so I had a coffee at De Graal and did some drawing for a few hours.  I arrived at the gallery where she was playing and it was free drinks for the whole evening.  Hot mould wine, local brewery beers, wine, and all sorts.  It was so warm and there were so many beautiful Dutch women there.  It was just a beautiful environment to be in.  It was the perfect pick up I needed.  And when Annabelle and her band played, it was a joy to watch and listen to.  I was slightly a little bit drunk by the end of the night.  I headed to Max Eiweplein to try and do a last hour, but was really actually more drunk than I thought, and didn't sound good.  A woman came down and asked me how long I was gonna be playing for, cos she lives just above.  I said only half an hour, but couldn't manage 2 songs, I had lost my coordination and went home.

At the start of February, my friend Jasper said he was heading to a silent retreat for 10 days, and would I like to look after his place and record there. I said 'Hell yes, old boy!'  It was such perfect timing, and I was so excited to get recording these songs I had hanging over me.  Through all my previous years of recording songs, they had been predominantly studio creations.  Using the guitar in a different way.  But the art of writing an acoustic song is a different ability.  I had written a few I was proud of and kept, I had written a few new ones, reworked an old band one, and threw in a Dylan cover for good measure.  I got there about 11 in the mornin.  Used my last 8 euroes for a gram of smoke, got the coffees cooking and threw myself into it.

The first night I lasted 16 hours before I stopped.  I wanted to try and capture to the best standard I could the songs I had written in my songbook, and put a closure to them.  I created the Dead Sea Captain to be an acoustic identity, and wanted to set a first stone in the building of his musical library.  The album is quite good, and has some nice moments.  But more importantly it gives me a blank page for the next album.  I am already starting to piece together ideas and start the next one, that I feel will be a big step forward.




The recording lasted for nearly 2 weeks, I would go out busking, get some supplies, head back and record until sunrise.  Everything just seemed timed perfectly through the whole experience.  And when I walked in and found a grand Wersi electric piano in there, I just knew it was meant to be.  I had a great time at Jaspers.  It is full of creativity and warmth.  You watch the whole procession of the sun through the massive windows, hitting different mirror balls at different times of the day.  Even if it is cold outside, when the sun shines on a winters day, you still feel its warmth there. I lived off Muesli, yoghurt and chocolate paste.  Good Dutch coffee, and the want to drag these songs out of my head, into a quite listenable audio arrangement.  When I opened the cupboard, and found a supply of Yorkshire Tea bags that I had bought him, still there.  The stars truly aligned, haha.

It is an old office building in the industrial outskirts of Amsterdam, around it is a passing world of every different type of transport.  Jasper says he is in the centre of all this movement.  Watching the planes, trains, trams, buses, cars, bikes taking a constant flow of people in and out of Amsterdam.  Jaspers is this peaceful eye in the storm.  The next building accross a black gospel choir rerhearse, and you hear them each morning.  A family of crows live and converse on a perch outside the window.  His place is a home for friends, travellers, touring bands, and beautiful people from all over the world.  It was a great place to be, and I am quite proud of what I recorded there.

After recording the album, I headed to my old dear friend Ron's.  We went through so much together at the `Magneet Festival, and I just love the guy to bits.  A legendary artist, musician, scrap art welder, the lounge builder.  There is never a dull moment with him.  He is always making videos, rcording music, painting, riding giant wooden horses, stealing manequins from pubs, a big kid at heart really.  We made some good songs together when he came to visit me in Liverpool.  I stayed with him for about 4 days and watched around 10 legendary Vincent Price films, and loads more.  Just took it easy and enjoyed drinking a coffee and smoking a joint with him.  Watching the snow fall in this tiny little village in North Holland.  Whilst I was there, I got a phonecall from Dominik, a trumpet player I had met while busking.  He passed me onto his 'manager' and asked if I would record a reggae album down in the heart of the black ghettos on the outskirts of Amsterdam.  I said 'Hell yes, old boy!'

What followed is a crazy story and turn of events, that I need a fresh page to focus on.  A lot of crazy shit happened.  Lets call it a day there.


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