"Grrr" (Spit)

Sorry about my absence over the last couple of days. Far to much has been surrounding my mind as of late.

So I've never been what you would call butch. Most of my best friends are girls and I normally avoid sporting activities at all costs, delving into more artsy forms of entertainment. But today I decided to partake in the viewing of a rugby game with the old man. England Vs. France, Six Nations. I've always quite enjoyed rugby and used to play it but the boys in my secondary school team weren't very supportive, criticizing instead of helping. Therefore I was put off. However I am of a certain disposion of never exorcising. So I have decided to play Rugby at the University I go to next year, hopefully being Kent. Here is hoping my slightly flimsy wrist can catch a rugby ball next year.

As Tigger once said: 'T.T.F.N'

HUZZUH!

Finally, after months of doing countless covers, The majestic man beast Lewis Killick and I have finally written our own, original piece of music. The song 'Siren Call', as seen below, has had both guitar and bass finally added to it.

The next two stages are:

1 - Find a drummer.

2 - FINALLY start to gig.

Will 'Hang Your Idols' finally start somewhere? One can only hope. Until then, let us hope.

Just to say I did it.

So, for those of you who know me well enough, I am an aspiring musician. I've never thought to make it my whole world. I'm curently studying and applying to do a Sociology and Criminology degree at univeristy. So I have some back up's. But I sometime's feel I won't even get the chance to say I have tried it. As is seen in a recent blog I did start a little something with a few friends. However, due to other commitments we barely ever get time to practice. With one we hardly get together, and with the other we never get together.

Many of my friends are in bands. But also most of my friends don't have the same interest in the music I listen to, obviously making it hard to get the right sound out of whatever it is we play due to different styles of playing, tone, etc. Most of my friends listen to Heavy Metal music: not a genre I discredit, but one that I have no real interest in listening to or playing. Lewis and Rachel, who I attempted at starting a project with, unfortunately, again, don't show as keen an interest as I do when it comes to song-writing and/or finding time to even practice. Don't get me wrong, I'm having a little bass/guitar session with Lewis tomorrow. However, it's gotten to the point where I don't feel this to be an attempt at a band anymore but just two friends jamming. This is just as fun but I get a sense of dread knowing there may be no chance of trying out my own lyrics infront of people besides those who attend my college going to the annual Xmas talent show. Of course, it's of no fault of Lewis or Rachel's by any standard. I guess it's all just a matter of interest.

I'm even considering using the year after I finsish University to try and find a career in music. Today I was walking down the road, going to meet my good friend Megan, and listening to Alkaline Trio's 'This Could Be Love' from their fourth studio album 'Good Mourning'. And as they blasted out that beautifully un-holy "This could be love. Love for fire", I couldn't help but get that tight feeling in my gut that I think we all do when listening to a bloody good classic. But what also sprung to mind was both times I have seen Alkaline Trio in thier own gig. And both times when that lyric was sung by the crooning Matt Skiba, a good couple thousand people would repeat. Over and over and over and over.

So there I am. Walking down the street. Listening to Alkaline Trio. Taking a detour down memory lane. And I can't help but imagine how amazing it would be to have a couple thousand people scream out your own lyrics that you probably wrote in your living-room. And I want that. That tight feeling was probabaly jealousy. I want to be in a Punk Rock band like all my favourite bands: Alkaline Trio, Placebo, Hot Water Music, The Lawrence Arms, The Damned, The Gaslight Anthem, NOFX, Rancid.

Even If it goes nowhere. If my lyrics and songs fall flat on thier face. If I'm pelted off stage with whatever people can get thier hands on. Just to say I did when I'm 40, 50, etc. That would be bloody brilliant.

P.S.

I promise to come back to this. I always forget how fun it is ;-).

Faith

Well is it plain as day,
I don't know what to say.
Your forked tongue keeps sticking me to the floor.
I'll keep on trying my dear
If it's what you wanna hear.
Will there be a point when you don't want no more.

Well it's easy you see
To get away from me.
You just turn your back and slowly walk away.
I'd say 'fuck off' my dear.'
If it's what you wanna hear,
Why can't you just get the hell straight out of here.

Face your fears they're prettier than they look.
Those fallen angel's won't give back what thy took.
So get down on your damn knees and pray.
Swear to God that you won't give a fuck one day.

Your so sick and tired
Of the things they do.
Your so sick and tired
Of what it does to you.
Don't hide inside the bottle.
Don't read that sad book.
Face your fears they're prettier than they look.

Face your fears they're prettier than they look.
Those fallen angel's won't give back what the took.
So get down on your damn knees and pray.
Swear to God that you won't give a good damn fuck one day.

Siren Call

Hello again beautiful strangers.

I know I said I'd stop with the poetry and I HAVE. Promise with cherry's on top. But as you would see from earlier blogs I am also aspiring to be a musician. And obviously with this comes song-writing. SOOO every now and then I will be posting my own songs. Hope you like them.

Until then, as Voldemort once said: 'Where is my bloody nose?'

Siren Call

Hush little baby

Don't you Cry.

Don't part those lips and ask me why.

I don't need another utter in my head.

Soon you'll drop heavier than this lead.

It takes just one bullet

Takes just one bullet

To fall.

It takes just one moment

Takes just one moment

To lose it all.

So give me five more seconds

Give me five more seconds

To walk out the door,

And hear the siren call.

Quiet now daddy

Don't let them hear.

Don't kick up a fuss

And bring them near.

I don't need another reason in my brain.

Promise you won't feel such fear again.

It takes just one bullet

Takes just one bullet

To fall.

It takes just one moment

Takes just one moment

To lose it all.

So give me five more sec

onds

Give me five more seconds

To walk out the door,

And hear the siren call.

I don't know how to say why I did it.

Sometimes I wonder why I even did it at all.

I don't know how to say why it happened.

I guess it only takes one

bullet to fall.

I don't know how to say why I did it.

Sometimes I wonder

why I even did it at all.

I don't know how to say why it happened.

I guess it only takes one fucking bullet to fall.

Its Been A Long Summer

Heylo you beautiful strangers.

Its been a good couple of months since you have last heard from me but forgive me for I have much to tell.

First and fullmost since we last met my summer had just started. Well, let me tell you, it only got more interesting from there. I spent a very good day up Olde London Towne with a few friends at Gay Pride! And I can honestly say it was one of the most intriguing days of my life. Never had I seen so much...why I suppose you could say flamboyancy. Of course you can only say if it is in actualy fact a real word which I'm not too sure of at the moment.

It's nice to see a bit of pride in this world. To see people flaunt what thirty years ago would have been deemed 'sinful' and even illegal really made me feel glad that there so many people who are feeling un-ashamed of what has always been, to them, (and rightly so) thier human rights...

...Oh, and over three thousand gay men singing a drag queens rendition of Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance' and ABBA's 'Dancing Queen' ain't half a laugh.

Maybe Grant and Myself got too much into the spirit. My girlfriend understand I'm sure.

Then, my beautiful strangers, I flew off to sunny Croatia-land in search of sun, sea and alchohol. The first of this two weeks was spent in the company of the strangest of the strange. The almighty Inebriate...This Guy:

Dave Harrild. And his drinking partner, Father Hayes himself:

This was an alcohol fuelled first week, I tell you. With drinking heavily one night, vowing to take it easier the next evening, only to break said vow and continue the pattern. Until eventually, by the end of the first week, we looked like this:

(We've no idea who the italian guy is) Then Dave and the rest of the Harrilds unfortunatley left our presence. But then my sister and her delightful (used loosley) boyfriend joined us in the second week of Croatia-Land.

And this helped our second week to be a lot more tamer than the first, only drinking half of what was drunk the first...which was still too much to some people...I suppose.

Lastly at the end of this summer I went to the almighty Reading Music Festival where I spent four whole days with my friends, drinking and listening to good goddamn music. Quite literally started on a good note with Alkaline Trio and ended on a good note with Blink 182. However, I did, unfortunately, lose my camera. But I have been going through the dregs of other people's pictures and found this pretty spectacular. One which I hope sums up the weekend for those Reading hopefuls.

All in all Summer of 2010 was a pretty darn good summer.