As I look back over these past 12 months, I know that 2002 has been a curious year for me.
I converted my long-running diary to one of those "blogs", or rather a LiveJournal, and as a result have written more and been less lazy in my diary entries than before. The Comments feature has proven to be a lot of fun, and reminds me that as I type these entries, not only are people reading them, but they feel the need to respond publicly as well. Only connect, EM Forster said, and that old closeted queen would, I like to think, have approved of LiveJournal and the Internet. So, by converting my diary to this more interactive format, it's true I feel a lot less alone than I did a year ago.
With my band Fosca, we recruited the talented multi-instrumentalist Kate Dornan and made our sound a little more live, a little less programmed than before. We played one concert in London once every calendar month, plus a festival in Leeds and a club in Chelmsford, and released a new single and a 2nd album. I'm not sure that the 2nd album was received less well than the 1st or not. It depends on your criteria. John Peel didn't play it. No one reviewed it in the press apart from Simon Price in the Independent, bless him . We didn't get invited on a Swedish tour this time. Our proposed December tour of the US fell through. But then again, we've broken even on the costs and people have continued to pay to see us or buy our CDs. So the "dumper" doesn't quite beckon yet.
For my part, I remain extremely proud of the album, and nominate "Rude Esperanto" as the best song I've written to date in any of my bands. It's always a cliche when writers say their favourite own work is their latest, but it's a true cliche in my case.
2002 found me losing interest in the current pop music scene more and more, and taking more interest in the comedy and spoken word "scenes", for want of a better word. My grumblings about the NME were made entirely redundant when I realised that the publication's target market is 18-24 year-olds. And yet I still feel too young for the likes of Mojo, and I'm still not sure if I'll EVER be old enough for them.
But I'm made more aware that if you have something to say, wrapping it in music is all very well, but there's the problem that many people simply won't like the attendant musical style, or your performance. And despite my love of the song as a concise method of communication, I can't help thinking that it's about time I tried other formats. I'm not saying I'm about to write The Novel, but I do want to try something else.
As ever, I have taken more comfort in cosmetics and hair bleaching products than in music. But I'd never dare to say I'm shunning Real Life. I'm constantly excited in meeting people, old and young, old acquaintances and new, and hold true to that Quentin Crisp adage that if we find a person who is telling the truth about themselves boring, it is ourselves we are criticising.
More than ever before, I have found that the year has brought home to me the truth that the vast majority of immediate concerns and worries are worthless, and that it's important to worry less and live more, whether in real life or on the Net. It's all living.
In 2003, I have some ideas for new projects that I hope to see fruition, and will report on them as they unfold. All I want to do is contribute to the world what I can give more than anyone else, and contribute it to the best of my abilities. Whether that's writing, recording, or just standing in London nightclubs looking the way I do and imparting my broken wisdom to those who seek it, it's all good.
Dickon Edwards
Highgate, London N6
