Well that was a sufficient amount of time to make sure no-ones watching

In the last month or so I’ve been trying to work out why most of us are terrified to stand front and centre as ourselves, but at the same time crave the freedom to do that very thing. Its as if you have the back wheels going full pelt but simultaneously screeching the brakes, so you just end up ass over tit, and create a whole lot of car crash with no real purpose to it at all, except drama for the scenic sake.

This theme of my roaming thoughts all came about in the lead up to my recent birthday celebrations, and a dare I had set myself to take to the stage and sing live in front of an audience again. This unleashed a whole torrent of “what the fuck have I got myself into” which I cant deny I actually relished throughout the whole god damn debacle, like some adrenalin junkie that despised my drug of choice. As a haphazard side effect of this project, facilitated by my friends who I can only say were delighted at the sight of my uneasiness, was a recording session. Now for someone who is constantly questioning whether I can actually hold a note, but can admit I don't sound that bad at the same time, hearing your voice back in full volume with a group of people in a sound studio is enough to make you burst with fright and pride all in the same completely bi-polar flurry of panicked excitement.

Needless to say, I did it, stood up in a Brooklyn bar, not drunk, sang some songs my way and it felt amazing. And I wasn't that bad. Actually I was quite good. So why the hell do I feel so guilty about being able to carry off “Feeling Good”?
Why is it that we feel more comfortable doing things when we think no one is watching because of our insecurities, but actually have enough vanity to want people to watch… its just encouraging peeping tomfoolery… I’m guilty of the same thing right now. I return to my blog… quietly… thinking that no one is here… but then why on earth do I feel the urge to write this post and public “post” it at all?!

So in the vain attempt to battle these swings and roundabouts, I’m going back into the recording studio to “put down some tracks”, god I already sound like a fraud. They’re going to be a compilation of old protest/folk songs and blues standards that I think have an echoed relevance today and try and raise some more money for UNICEF. Some of my wonderfully creative, and cruel, friends have agreed to contribute their artwork, films, musings, blog notes and so on, so we can dance to the same narcissistic showtune together. And thank god there will be no A&R flirting, viral campaign or overnight success, but you can check back soon for the updates… I know this already looks like a massive contradiction but who cares no ones looking anyway.