Having sent off the album to Kitty at Troy Horse for manufacture late last night with a race to the post (only one scratching in the field of 11 tracks) Grace and I attempted to clear our smushed creative minds with a first rehearsal at Tuncurry pool. The beach cafe closed up around us as we swilled coffee (great) and chai watching a mother pass a worn rugby league ball to her teenage sons on the grass between us and the water. A guy in an apron and black t-shirt pulled down the umbrella above our heads prompting a walk to the end of the nearby break wall where we continued to bounce lyrics back and forth under our breath... but just above the wind. When I sing quietly after a late night it can sound like turning dry gravel. Grace - if you read this - can you remind me to put that in our Bio?
Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Take a long walk.
February 20, 2018
Writing 'Slipstream' about life on the river... paying in blood for the perfect sunset...