Wednesday 22 July 2009

I'm reworking our 20 August concert again for the n-th time - Alasdair Roberts is magically free once more, so now we have the wonderful luxury of both him and Martin Carthy singing. What I'd love to do is just wait until we're all in the same room and then put the show together, but unfortunately the Edinburgh Festival has print deadlines that have to be met more urgently than that.  So I've spent the morning juggling running orders and tunes in my head, and writing grumpy programme notes that don't really explain anything. I hate writing programme notes, and usually refuse. I still hold to Jimmy McGovern's maxim that 'I'd rather be confused for 10 minutes than bored for 5 seconds'. As an audience member I'd rather leave a concert thinking 'What the hell was that?' and determined to find out, than clutching a programme containing an essay that answers all my questions, so that I can put my mind at rest and then just forget about the whole experience.

My digestion's just about recovered from Monday when Matthew Gelbart came to visit, and he had such an appetite that we had three set lunches at the Wee Curry Shop between the two of us, an unheard-of indulgence. So my lungs haven't been up to the serious melodica practice which needs to be done before Sunday's gig with McFalls and Michael Marra at the Big Tent.

One happy side-effect of shopping in real greengrocers whenever possible rather than going to the supermarket is that you hear more interesting music in real shops: some of the shops even have a PRS licence for it. Things I wouldn't have heard if it wasn't for local food emporia include The Dub Side of the Moon, and Rachel Unthank's remarkable cover of Robert Wyatt's Sea Song, which I've just heard again ...