¦ dialling in from Sky Bunker ¦
04:45 hrs. Tuesday 13th March 2012. My first early start in a few days. Supping a mug of tea and enjoying the silence and solitude up here in the eaves of the house; deep red glow from my lava lamp. Ignoring the ever-creeping crack in the roof. Bloody thing. Builder’s coming round soon to give quote to fix.
I’ve been ignoring the early mornings in preference of a lie-in – enforcing a policy of taking a little time out to relax. Trying to, anyway. Currently working on a storm of new ideas, one murder mystery game and three novel plots. It means I’m missing out on running any kind of marketing campaign for the recent release of Yellow Dawn (2.5) and Living in Flames but I’d rather grab the muse whilst she’s in the mood for giving: I can run marketing campaigns any other time.
I’ve also just launched a collection of short stories called Songs of Spheres, 15 of my favourite tales with a brief intro for each one.
This weekend was all about taking time out.
I walked 12 miles and ate some great meals and drank some of my favourite tipple: the Cornish ale Doombar and the divine (malt loaf in a glass) Milk Stout, plus the usual selection of strong coffee and tasty nibbles from the Arnolfini Cafe. The sun was out adding colour and a vast uplifting ambience to the cool breeze, creating perfect Spring days.
Saturday – sitting outside the Arnolfini, four musicians rocked up wearing the kind of period clothing that made them look like something from the era of the Great Depression: a huge double bass, trumpet, acoustic guitar and clarinet (or oboe). The flicked on a small amp and began strumming, blowing and singing and within moments there was an enthusiastic crowd, grinning and tapping their feet (unheard of for English folk). It was magical, listening and observing them playing. The sounds were a seamless blend of 1920s, 30s and 40s. Folky and heart-warming. I thought Creole but apparently not. I bought one of their CDs and Jo and I spent the next couple of hours driving around in her convertible v-dub with the roof down, smiling in the sunlight and the CD on repeat. Brilliant
Called Jazz Disaster, you should DEFINITELY check out their website and catch a sample of their music.
Jazz Disaster in action. Image © Rebecca Lee-anne Prior
ABOUT JAZZ DISASTER
What we got? What aint we got?
We got some real sweet old-time, good-time hits of the 20′s, 30′s and 40′s. Them’s was the days when hits were good, I mean real, real good. Not like all this newfangled ‘boom boom, shake the room’ stuff you got these days. Nah, we got somethin’ that’ll make you go weak at the knee, it’s so sweet. And then we’ll just whip you up into a frenzy with a bit of somethin’ special, the beat, bass and geetar swingin’, clarinet screamin’, and the sweetest trumpet you ever did hear… It jus’ don’t get better than this.
See, we’ve been passed down this gift from the greats, and it’s pure gold, see. It’s like the clouds are partin’ and the suns shinin’ thru’ and you just gotta smile or dance or whoop or somethin’. And so we just stumbled on this little treasure, and we wanna share it with the world, make people smile, forget their troubles, dance, laugh, love… all that stuff, y’ know?
So that’s just what we’re doin’.
They’re available for bookings in the UK and maybe elsewhere? For booking contact Myles on
Zero, Seven, Eight, Zero, Seven, Nine, Two, Zero, Zero, Zero, Two.
Or email: jazzdisaster (AT) gmail (D0T) com
Go to the Jazz Disaster website to listen to samples of their tunes or buy album.
Meanwhile, the Mood has returned. Or one of them. This one has a very light touch and is one of my favourites. The Mood, if you’re not familiar with my postings is something I get every few months. A smell that isn’t actually there begins to pervade my senses, it draws out an “emotional” chord with it… often making me think about a particular period in my early life. They typically grow stronger over a few days and then fade again. This one is Bergen and me spending time with my cousin Kenn-Ole there, and the period of late 1989 when I first began writing at the age of 19. Very blissful and uplifting. They’re like little “gifts” from some other place. Strange, I guess, but I like them when the randomly appear.
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David J Rodger – DATA