My computer calendar and some mumbled voice memo recordings on my phone tell me it’s almost exactly one year ago to the day that I started writing songs after a couple of years not doing so. I don’t know whether I was thinking of making another record at the time or if I was just seeing if I could still write songs. After finishing a new album’s worth, I usually think, that’s me done. I can’t imagine there’s a single song left inside me. How many variations on the handful of chords I use can there possibly be left? And I can’t think of there ever being anything worth writing about ever again. Anyway, last August I must have got on a creative roll quite quickly because by the end of the month I had eleven new songs. In September I went for a drink with my manager and three glasses of wine later I was writing a second album. According to my calendar, I finished recording and mixing both records on 25 February. In less than two week’s time they will both be released. Me and the band will play a live radio session and two in-store gigs – we started rehearsing last weekend – and the day after the second in-store – or if I’m honest, for the past six months, I’ll wake up thinking, next? What’s next?
Write more songs?
Write a novel?
Write a musical?
Learn how to play the piano or speak French?
Take a few months off, going to art galleries, on long walks and being King of the grandfathers?
Get cancelled?
Reform one of my old bands?
This is not a poll
Next.