lucyjanemusic.co.uk

Hello!
We are still alive, just hibernating until next week when the first of five gigs will be happening.
For more info, go to the gigs page… lala.
xx

Pete and I went to the Tate Britain this weekend to see the Turner and to talk about what Lucy Jane (third person sicness) is going to do next.

We decided a great many things involving recording new stuff, Peeaaargh etc.

And pre-Turner prix ciggie, we turned around and saw this…

Martin Creed, 1999

He’s right, you know.

Tomorrow evening – ie, Monday, 23rd November, We’ll be playing at the Cambria which is a wonderful pub in Camberwell. They’ve just got a new upright piano too which is lovely to play.

The Cambria looks like this:

The Cambria pub, where we'll be playing

And it’s on Kemerton Road, easy to get to via Brixton, Herne Hill or Loughborough Junction.

I’ll be playing with Pete Marsh on double bass (course,) Paul May on drums, and Ralph Littlejohn on saxophones. We’ll probs be playing two one-hour sets, and while we’ll be doing many Lucy Jane songs, there’ll also be some rocking covers: listen out for a particularly sleazy-lounge version (or something) of Tainted Love. We tried it yesterday and it was so powerful it’s frightening. So many consecutive fifths…
Anyway maybe to see you tomorrow while you eat a fab dinner and we play for you. I have to go now as I think my flat may flood…

Yesterday I wrote a poem for Cheryl. I don’t really know why. Don’t bother me with your questions on my need to create. I just must, alright? Anyway, I read it out on the radio show that I co-host with Cilla on Tuesday evenings at sw1radio.co.uk and by popular demand here is the poem to read at leisure.

Ode to Cheryl

You smile over me,
Thoughout the United Kingdom
Trapped inside lit up shrines on rain sodden bus stops.

Styled with some natural hair extensions,
You show the way to prevent the shame
Of brittle, dry ends. But this is only your beginning.

A four dimensional, thousand percenter of loveliness,
You nurture and lead,
The weekly, soft-centred bush baby
Throwing into sharp relief,
Cowell’s snake charms and Minogue’s hard-nosed biting, sideline glances.

Talented too,
You took up the gauntlet, and bravely saw off your challengers,
Miming breathless, in a Mussolini black-shirted demonstration,
All fighting, fighting, fighting… for love?

But what of love, Cheryl?

Your perfect fairytale:
Less vulgar than Price,
More homely than Beckham,

The flip-side to a romance, reveals an immaculate Dianaism…
A philanderer, they say:
Overheard concerns make freshly published reports
Of your tears to Simon over Ashley,
A non-eating anxiety -
Now we understand the deeper meaning
Between the lines of your number one solo debut.

Forgotten and forgiven, the toilet in Guildford and Chuppa Chupp…

You paid the price, you moved along,
Our memories are short in this post-modern day,
Here live no meta-narratives, no universal truths,

But Cheryl Cole, for now at least, we do have you.

Tomorrow evening we have a gig at the Miller, which is close to London Bridge and Borough Stations, at 96 Snowsfields Road, behind Guys Hospital.
We’ll be on at 8pm, and “we” shall be myself, Peter on double bass, and Paul May, a fantastic drummmer who plays a snare and a ride cymbal only. But he seems to have this knack of letting the light in, throwing all the songs’ contrasts in to sharp relief. And also making them much poppier… How he does it I don’t know (I’m too busy trying not to laugh at Pete’s new skatalite bass line in Charlie) … but I’m not sure I mind.

I’m also planning a live album, to be recorded hopefully next month, in East London. This will feature new drummer Paul and Pete. Nothing confirmed yet but watch this space.

That’s what we – Emily barker and the Red Clay Halo – did on Saturday. It was intense! But very good fun and totally useful for me to bed-in as the cellist. Much looking forward to the tour, slightly amused by the fact that we’ll be staying in my hometown, Rochdale, for 6 nights. Wow. Rockerdale. It appears you cannot take the girl out after all.
Here’s a nice review from the first gig I played with them.

I’m playing with Emily Barker and the Red Clay Halo as their cellist in their UK tour this month. Their real cellist is going on tour with the Unthanks, so I’m very happy to step in. It should be a lot of fun.

We’re playing all over the UK, so check Emily’s myspace for more details.

http://www.myspace.com/emilybarker

Sometimes, and I know this is hard to believe, Pete and I agree to do a gig not because it will further the future career of Lucy Jane (I love saying that in the third person, like Mariah on the piste), but because we think it will further our life experience. We get to go to things we would not normally be invited to.

Plus of course, we love playing which is the main drag. Hence we recently played at a street party in Brixton where little boys were constantly crawling underneath the stage from the back to the front, and random balloons were spontaneously popping around lamp-posts (this was very good for me – I have a balloon popping phobia which is inconvenient at parties). I was blissfully unaware of the crawling boys, though our friend Jared who was doing the sound did have to grab one of them and drag him out (health and safety measures, not wilful abuse).

There wasn’t a huge amount of time between sound checking and gigging on that one, but generally we do have to find things to do between turning up and playing. Especially since the later you’re on, the earlier you’re supposed to turn up.

I used to fill the time with a steady and copious consumption of prosecco, but an out of body experience during a very seasick sounding Wish You Were Here put paid to that habit.

Sometimes we do watch the other bands play! But sometimes we just see what else is going on and tend to amuse ourselves. Last night was no exception. We played the Bridge Afghanistan benefit and on the way there I found a book. The area where I live is full of middle class people who just leave their unwanted books and DVDs on the pavements for you to pick up for free.

I am now the proud owner of How to Talk To Anybody about Anything…

Written by a New York based city consultant, it literally lists professions and tell you things to ask those who do such professions.

I think the idea is that if you’re a shy person you may not know what to ask people when you meet at first.

No more! You have to read the book and then memorise the questions…(well this is what it says in the how to read this book section – you’re not supposed to put it in your very big coat pocket and refer to it in front of people)

So potential awkward silences (punctuated by cords rubbing together maybe) can now be niftily averted when confronted by, say, a surprise bungee jumper (question 1: What do you jump from?) , Firefighters (what kind of turnout gear do you wear?), computer geeks (Do you use Windows? – seriously!!) and dentists (How are you coping with the OSHA and EPA regulations?) So we asked each other questions from this book, usually me asking the questions and Pete pretending to have many different jobs for hours, and came to the conclusion that once someone had actually answered the question, either shortly (yes, I do have a lap top) or at length, there is a flaw in the book: there is no catch-all follow up question to ask. So as a shy person, you’d just end up going, Oh, right. And then going to the bar.

Other things happened too like Pete walking on stage at the Caribbean Carnival Conference, thinking it was the exit upstairs at the Tab, where someone was paying tribute to a recently deceased organizer, but I’ll write about that another time.

We’re in a concert tomorrow evening at the Tabernacle in aid of Bridge Afghanistan. It starts at 7.30pm.
Go here for more details…

www.bridgeafghanistan.blogspot.com

I haven’t done any recording for a little while. This is partly because after moving house my piano is in a different room to the computer, but also it’s because I’m unsure about how to record the next lot of songs.

We have Jules, fab northern percussionist offering to record, and then there’s Paul the excellent drummer whom we did a gig with the other day who made everything sound like it could bother the radio and listeners wouldn’t have to have a sit down with a cup of tea after one of the sadder songs.

I’ve got a number of new ones that do really do deserve recording and I’m just putting it off because of the dreaded inevitable imperfections etc.

SO…what do I do to kick off this feeling of ambivalence? I have to record a cover, of course. And what kind of cover?

Well, I thought it might be nice to record the most embarrassing song. Step forward Feargal. I thank you and that weird confused chidlhood memory I have of going to see Aladdin in panto with the Brownies, wondering why I didn’t enjoy it when everyone else did. And realising years later, it’s because pantomimes are shit and I found shit entertainment very bewildering at the time…

And at the end, one of the characters, not Aladdin, Aladdin’s dad or someone, sang A Good Heart. Wow. The awfulness of this pantomime was clearly something that has stayed with me forever.

So now I’m going to record this song. I’ve just listened to it on Spotify and have been laughing so hard my kidneys hurt. Or perhaps it’s the combination of hilarity and personal embarrassment I somehow feel. Even the introduction is just the greatest thing in the world. Is it a guitar, or is it Feargal’s sad and lonely voice? Or is it, quite possibly, both?

Maybe no-one will hear my cover, but it will still happen. Next up, Foreigner’s I wanna know what love is…

new gigs! see the gig page…