the second record..

is on it's way.

it's too late to be this hungry. corn thins just aren't cutting it.

i've been in studio, having good days in the booth, having bad days in the booth (today - hence the impulse blog). the worst part of this recording process is, well, no there are 2 shit things about it.

1. it's currently my job, which isn't a paying job, which means i'm not exactly rolling in it at the moment - which always makes any situation a difficult one. huff.

and

2. the trains. public transport is rude. i waited 20mins for my train, in the bitter cold. caught it to the city, got off in some weird narnia exit of parliament station, then sprinted for my tram, taunting me from a distance, and just as i reached it it took off. it could have splashed a puddle in my face i was that close, and it was that inconsiderate. double huff. so i sat, in the bitter cold, for another 20mins. did i mention i got a fine for having my foot on the plastic bit between the seats?

inspector: 'have you got a ticket?'
me: 'yes' *retrieves ticket*
inspector: *hands back ticket* 'well i'm reporting you for having your feet on the seat'
me: :O

am i painting a clear picture? when peeps ask me what i do and i say i'm a musician, they always respond with 'what an interesting life, how exciting' etc. i think they think you just sleep in, or all day, and eat overpriced baguettes for lunch in rustic cafes, until it's stage time. perhaps they picture the 'tortured artist' scenario, where you drink cheap coffee, have artfully messy hair, own one pair of shoes and chase your dreams down the rabbit hole... giving up to the world light, even though you find yourself immersed in darkness and depression. buckley? drake? either way, people generally romanticise it.

its not romantic.

for the most part, it's laborious. there's always heavy shit to carry, stairs, asshole security, bands with ego's bigger than their hairdos that you have to share space with, or even worse, talk to. perhaps its a cold night, perhaps im particularly bitter because theres no chocolate in my house. or maybe im legitimately jaded. sometimes i wish for another life.. sometimes. but then there are reminders. speaking of which, pluto just sent me one. how on point is this dude



in other breaking news, im back on the tour bus briefly with blue king brown. off to the other side of the world to escape melbourne winter and embrace northern hemisphere summer. this also sounds glamorous. don't be fooled, i'll have my fair share of sleeping upright overnight in a van, traipsing the european country side. oh no, you're right, it does sound pretty romantic. aside from the sore ass thing.

bye for now

xx

ps. relax. im just whinging, so you can save the 'keep trudging on' comments. it's dosh i want. not inspiration. i have plenty of that. that's what got me into this mess in the first place.

inspiration = practice = writing songs = recording = no job = momentarily broke (= bitter)