It seems that having all of this time in the middle of nowhere should lead to something productive. So, here it goes. A music blog.

I've been a long time music lover, performer, music venue programmer, music marketer, agent, name it in the industry, I've done it in some form or another. As I sit and type, my cat Kevin wipes his way past me. Funny that he should arrive at the moment I start to write about music. Kevin is a music lover himself. When I took him home with me for the first time, he was only 5 weeks old and far too young to have been abandoned by his mother. On the long car ride home, he was starting to freak out, so I put on a mix of Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan and he curled up and went to sleep. He's loved them ever since. On a cold night, Willie Nelson will sing through the old record player, and you'll see Kevin curled up on a chair, ears perked until the record ends.

Music does that to people. I've always been deeply moved by music. A good song gets me in a way I've never quite felt understood. The deepest feelings I've ever had in this life have been in moments where a lyric speaks to me so personally that I could have written myself, or a cello melody makes me feel like someone has reached inside of my chest and still holds my beating heart in their hand. Music is a massive part of my life and why I've always worked shitty paying jobs so long as I had the ability to work in this industry.

A world without music isn't a world. And didn't we learn that the hard and fast way during Covid? Artists were thrown overnight into online performances with virtual tip jars, which fizzled out after a few months. Tours were cancelled. Releases postponed until it had been so long after the reasons the songs were written in the first place, that they had been forgotten and artists were forced to release records that they no longer resonated with. A lot of us lost our voice or stopped writing. It wasn't like we didn't have the time. We had ALL the time. Maybe that was the reason. It's hard to get inspired sitting in a house alone and not encountering the people, the love, the momentary glance that leads to an entire song, the community, all of the reasons for writing.

Some artists thrived. Some artists gave up. Vinyl sales went way up but musicians were stuck and live music was lost. And nothing has been the same since.

During covid, I stopped being able to take in lyrics. I spent many months listening to Olafur Arnalds (an Icelandic composer), and it was the melodies that started to speak to me. Have you ever had a couple of hoots, sat down at a piano and played the same 4 notes over and over again and been completely lost for an hour? There's a feeling. Some sort of other worldly moment. That's how Olafur Arnalds feels to me. Repetitive in a way that calms you down. That's the addiction. That's my weakness, being pulled out of this world for even a moment, to a place where my anxious and impatient mind doesn't rule.

Someone recently said to me 'Just because you work in the music industry doesn't mean that you have good taste in music.' I know. And I've never walked around proclaiming that I do. BUT, I DO know when something speaks to me. I can recognize if someone is good at their craft, even if it's not my cup of tea. I know what could sell and who I might sell it too. I know the steps.

Music is my lifeline. And it's something that I love to talk about, so let's get this conversation started.

And…in the meantime. Do yourself a favour and watch some Olafur Arnalds; best paired with a glass of red and a good hoot.