Although I feel as if it is taking me a while to get back into the idea of work, the truth is that I am back at the grindstone already, even if it is taking a little time to catch up with all the leftover paraphernalia of the break.  Emails, lecture notes, those kinds of things are only slowly getting to where they should be.

There are exciting things afoot in 2018, however, one of them being this saxophone project to which I have alluded several times in previous posts.  We spent another day working together on Tuesday, an eight hour session of writing, arranging, correcting, transcribing, editing, and with a bit of laughter thrown in as well for good measure.

Where we spent the latter quarter of last year arranging and scoring existing material, this year the focus has changed to writing new songs from the ground up, and my colleague, wonderfully generous and positive about the whole process, has been keen for me to polish my chops and write something.  If truth be told, it has been over twenty years since I wrote anything approaching a song for a band, having fallen out of the whole thing since leaving The Electric Druids in ’95, and then finding a far better songwriter already in situ in JEBO.

I also ran out of things to say as I grew older.  Moaning about how unfair things are is all well and good for the bright young things on their way up, but who wants to listen to a grizzly manchild sing about mortgage interest rates?

My saxophonist colleague, despite my protestations, was sure that there was something in me to say about my father, and while I was anything but certain of this, I was happy to go along a little, to say that maybe there was an inkling of a line or two that could be forced out.  In the end, driving to London late last Saturday night, out it came, the first half song for over twenty years, a torso rather than a complete unit, but there nonetheless, now swiftly and effectively recast as something to go onto the proposed album.

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