Last week – stay a couple of days with Captain Hughes on his green and red narrow boat moored at Oxford. See photo, taken near Folly Bridge. Capt H would like to point out the actual mooring work here was carried out by himself, and that this photograph is more of my attempt to strike a manly pose while holding onto one of the boat’s rope.
He takes it down the Thames to Abingdon, and I get the chance to rope the vessel to the bank while it waits at the locks for the water level to change. It’s my gentle nautical debut. Iffley Lock has two lock keepers (one wears a blue lettered jumper reading ‘Assistant Lock Keeper’) and a small lock keeping dog who stands on the towpath staring out the boats. When I get back to Highgate, I re-read Three Men In A Boat, mainly for the bits about Iffley and Abingdon. The Hampton Court Maze scene inspires me to write ‘Narcissus In The Maze’ for Scarlet’s Well, with Martin White’s music.
Saturday – catch The Would-Be-Goods and Scarlet’s Well at the Water Rats. I’ve seen both bands a few times now, but can never take for granted a concert by these two previously studio-bound artistes I’ve adored for years. For me, the concert is a celebration of Ms Griffin and Mr Bid’s musical existence. I am paying homage, even if I don’t pay to get in. Both should be winning awards for songwriting and fearless dedication to original British pop music. Ms G is backed with other cult legends – Andy Warren (Monochrome Set / Adam and the Ants), Peter Momtchiloff (Talulah Gosh / Heavenly), Bongo Debbie (Mr Childish’s Headcoatees). Ms Griffin herself looks like no amount of stifling July heat could begin to affect her delicate-yet-invulnerable BBC announcer’s poise and singing voice. She does a couple of late 80s Would-Be-Goods crowd pleasers: The Camera Loves Me and Velazquez and I; but it’s the achingly desolate solo rendition of Too Old, from her most recent album The Morning After, that steals the show.
Scarlet’s Well are as giddy and colourful as ever, and air a new song about mermaids by Mr White, which has a particularly fantastic melody. Ms Dornan takes lead vocal on Pirate, and is rather superb at it too. Mr Bid still swears too much. Night of the Macaw is pure El Records. Bid tells me he likes the new song I’ve written, so I’m obviously biased.
Sunday – to brother Tom’s new home studio in Radlett to record demos for the new Fosca album. Well, I say “demos” but with unlimited studio time one may as well keep polishing, mixing, re-doing takes, trying out ideas and working on the tracks till you can’t hear anything that could be improved. And if you do that, you may as well release the track properly on the album, I say. It’s nice to not have the stress of being up against the studio clock, a factor which must affect the way many records turn out.
That said, if Fosca can afford to use a studio and producer with a history of making proper records, we should do, even if it’s just for a few “stand out tracks” (if not singles). Regardless, I do hope Tom can work with me more regularly now he’s living closer to London. Not least because we get on, which is something one can never underestimate with producers, related or not.
He’s managed to salvage a piece of our childhood from the Suffolk garage and mount it on the wall of his new home. It’s a present from our artist sci-fi-loving father from when we were both small – a huge piece of hardboard, painted and cut to resemble one side of a silver Flash Gordon-like spaceship, complete with portholes and “D & T” in Roy Lichtenstein-esque lettering. We would spend many endless afternoons with it propped up in our bedroom (by our bunk beds), and pretend we were in a spaceship by sitting behind it. Tom points out today that although we couldn’t see any of the painted side of the hardboard ourselves, and there was no one else in the room to watch us behind it, this didn’t seem to matter. We knew we were in a spaceship together, that was enough
I can’t help equating this example of unfettered, uncynical childhood faith in imagination – and the fact Tom now displays the hardboard ship over his new staircase – with our work in his studio. We go in and have creative adventures that please us both. Except this time, I want people to watch us from the painted side.
