I dragged myself into the kitchen some time in the middle of the afternoon and began to make myself some breakfast. “What time did you guys start yesterday?” asked my wife. “Around 3.” “What time did you finish?” “Oh, around 4.” She briefly looked surprised, as if to say, that was an extremely quick recording session! Then she did the math and realised we were at it for 13 hours straight.

When I was twenty-one I could pull off a 15 to 20 hour session and bound right back the next day. Nowadays 13 hours is quite draining. However, a lot depends on how much you get done, and the quality of it. In this case I’m very happy. We got four backing tracks down—three with bass, drums, guitar, guide piano and vocal; and one with just two guitars, Neill MacColl joining Kevin Armstrong on a couple of nylon string acoustics.

When the band are learning the song as you go along, it makes things quite exciting. You get a rough sound for each instrument, which doesn’t need to be the final sound, just in the ballpark. You need a good headphone mix so everyone can hear themselves and each other. Plus sightlines that allow you to see each other, even though you’re in different spaces. I’d routined the songs with Matthew and Kevin, but drummer Liam Genockey was playing them for the first time. The first few run-throughs are usually stop-start affairs, working out feels for different sections, where to put fills and ‘punctuation’, and so on. I kind of mumble the vocals because I’m listening to everything else. Then there comes a point where it’s feeling ready to record. There’s a magical window where the ‘tape is rolling’ (an obselete term in this day of digital everything) and any take you play could turn out to be THE take.

On a couple of the songs I opted not to use a click track. When you do, it makes it easy to add sequenced keyboard parts later in a program like Logic. It also puts all takes at the same tempo and makes it very easy to overlay takes and intercut between them—so for example, if Take 2 was generally great but you messed up the first chorus, you can cut it in from Take 3 instead. However, the disadvantage of playing to a click is that everyone has one ear open for it and that can lead to a slightly stiff and restrained feel, less natural. Recording without one is living a bit dangerously. But with the latest technology and a bit of elbow grease, you can generally find a way to add a tempo track later, cut and paste between takes and so on.

You can’t go on recording take after take. The energy and freshness start to drop off, yielding diminishing returns. Plus, the more takes there are, the more sifting though I’ll inevitably have to do, given that I like to leave no stone unturned. There might be one drum fill in Take 12, or a bit of guitar in Take 8 that has just that little bit of an edge. I don’t like ending up with so many options. If I’ve got two takes that I’m very happy with, I prefer to stop there, knowing I can always move notes around, fix timings and tunings later. So you need to have the courage to say ‘ok let’s move on!’

The main thing I’m looking for with a ‘tracking date’ (several musicians all playing together) is that intangible magic that you can never achieve when you build songs up a bit at a time. For example, one of the new songs is over seven minutes long, and has 12 verses that tell a story about a prison break, almost like a folk lament. One approach to that would have been to create a long sequence in the computer, then look for different textures and sounds for each section, perhaps adding real instruments along the way. That’s the way I recorded ‘I Love You Goodbye.’ But on this one, I decided to keep it looser. We worked on the song for most of the second day, breaking it down into different verses and joining the dots. Then we finally took a crack at playing it straight through. The first take was so-so, we were glad to get through it to the end. We went into the control room, poured ourselves a glass of wine and gave it a listen. Everything was in place, but it was somehow lacking the narrative quality that was in the lyric. Back out there—second take–bingo! The song had taken on a shape and a life of its own.

I deliberately chose to play real piano and sing a rough guide on the backing track. This means that the piano tracks will have some vocal spill on them, and vice versa, rendering them both unusable—unless, of course, I happened to play and sing absolutely perfectly. But I know from history there’s a zero percent chance of that happening! I’m just not that adept in either department. What the rough vocal hopefully does do, though, is inspire the other musicians to play at their best, while defocusing them from their own part, so they become part of the accompaniment for the vocal, rather than an instrumentalist. It also sets me a yardstick for the phrasing and tone of the final vocal. My vocals evolve as I learn to sing my own song, and as the feel and character of the track develops. When I go in to do the final vocals I often find I’m listening back to the guide vocal to remind myself of how I sang that night when I had the whole band.

The song with Kevin and Neill was unusual for me. I’ve never used two guitarists simultaneously on a song before. It’s a very gentle poetic song (you may have read an early version of the lyrics here on my blog a few months ago!) but the middle section is such a complete and utter surprise, the first time you hear it you’ll think someone changed the radio channel on you.

We did a few small overdubs, to fix obvious mistakes or to add cymbals, fills, more ‘out there’ approaches and so on, so that I have options. The next stage for me is to work through the four songs, getting familiar with what’s there, and knit together the ultimate version of each. But of course, that’s just the beginning. I will still be miles away from anything finished. There will be synths and keyboards to add, in some cases other instruments altogether (eg harmonica, fiddle), then vocals, backing vocals, and days and days of final mixing. And this is just four songs remember—perhaps one third of the album.

Still, I feel like the album is truly underway, and now when I go to work each day it’s with a clear idea of what I’m going to be working on. And I am delighted with the songs, which have really come along. There’s no way they will be a repeat of anything I’ve done in the past. After all, a big chunk of my life has gone by since I last recorded new songs. I’m older, wiser. The old adage is that when an artist does his first album, he’s had twenty years of real life to sing about. He does his second, he’s got six months of touring, hotel rooms and press interviews to sing about! But as Matthew pointed out, I’m back to the twenty years of real life thing.

And music has moved on too. I don’t believe making cool sounds and grooves is very interesting any more, because we’ve had a couple of decades of that and there’s very little left to do. What I come back to is that first and foremost I’m a songwriter. I can actually write interesting lyrics and great melodies. And that’s a rare thing these in days of bleeps and blips. So that’s where I’m focusing my energy.

A good motto for me right now is this: ‘Only do what only you can do.’

I’m excited to say I will officially begin recording my new album tomorrow. I am going to put down backing tracks for 3-4 songs, with musicians Matthew Seligman (bass), Kevin Armstrong (guitar), Neil MacColl (guitar), and Liam Genockey (drums.) This will not necessarily be the lineup for the whole album, and I hope to collaborate with several more musicians over the course of the album, but reuniting with good friends like Matthew and Kevin seems like a great place to start.

I have never worked with Neil directly before, but he played on a couple of Eddi Reader songs I love, ‘What You Do With What You’ve Got’ (which I mixed) and ‘Kiteflyer’s Hill.’ One of the songs I’ve written requires an arrangement of two nylons string acoustic guitars so I asked Kevin who he recommended, Neil’s name came up and it makes perfect sense.

Liam has played with both Kevin and Matthew in the past. I was familiar with his work with Robert Wyatt, one of my all-time heroes (never heard Soft Machine’s ‘The Moon In June’? You don’t know what you’re missing!) The pedigree of these two should give my album a good luck charm.

Of the dozen or so songs I have close to completion, these ones are a natural set in terms of the feel. The songs seem to fall into three distinct groups. Which gets me to thinking about novel ways to approach this album…. three EPs that appear sequentially but combine together into one body of work? Oh how I envy writers who can embark on a novel, a collection of short stories, or an entire series. And these days there’s absolutely no reason a musician needs to be constricted to the tired old single/album format. There are so many other possibilities!

So I won’t be recording this album in a single chunk. I think the years of insane hours, all-night sessions and perpetual mixing and remixing are behind me. Many artists/bands have to commit to a contiguous chunk of time to record, due to touring schedules and record label marketing windows. I’m delighted to have that burden off my shoulders, and feel very fortunate. I may take breaks for other projects, or just to step back and clear my head with a little family time or traveling. I have no clear idea of how long it will be before I release anything, or what form it may take. And I’m trying hard not to feel intimidated by the fact it’s something like 15 years since I released a new studio album; or that expectations are extremely high. But I know for sure that it’s going to be a grand adventure.

Watch this space…..

Matthew Seligman and Kevin Armstrong came to stay with me for a few days, and we routined some of my new songs.

They sound AMAZING. What a delight to play with old friends. We understand each other so well. And they’ve both kept their chops up over the years, ever since the early days of Local Heroes, Low Noise, and my first and second albums.

When they came onstage with me at the Islington Academy last October, it felt like a reunion. The reaction was so warm and positive, it took me quite by surprise. I’ve played with many backing bands over the years but these two have a unique place in Dolby folklore. We worked over 5 songs and we’re planning to record three of them in early September, with a drummer (as yet undecided.)

Here’s a couple of neat pics of them from the Academy (thanks elekgtricgypsy!) Kevin’s in the specs.

On this day in 1982, I released my fifth UK single, ‘Windpower.’ It reached #31 in the UK charts, and not long afterwards I performed it on Top Of The Pops. I think the teen audience (and Sylvian-esque DJ Kid Jensen) must have been very confused! Most of them must be in their 40’s by now. After all, it took quite a few years for renewable energy to catch on, didn’t it? You can see the video here:

C’mon, don’t be so uncharitable. I did my part! You can’t hold me responsible for the duck costume.

Actually, I loved doing this music video. I got to direct Tim Robbins, Lea Thompson, and Holly Robinson, all of whom went on to become big stars. I lived at LucasFilm for a few months and hung out with the Oscar-winning sound and special effects departments at ILM. I drove around Marin County in a convertible Morris Minor covered in surf stickers. I wrote the songs for the movie with George Clinton and Allee Willis. My original musical score was kicked out by the studio because it was ‘too weird.’ Many of the themes ended up in Ken Russell’s ‘Gothic’ instead, which was supposed to be a horror film.

And just look at the comments on YouTube! HTD has a massive fanclub all over the world. It’s an evergreen cult classic.

I scored these splendid steampunk binoculars on eBay today for £46. They are quite large, measuring over 10 inches when fully extended. According to the seller they were handed down from his grandfather, and they once belonged to one of the crew on the RMS Carpathia, the ship that saved 705 people from the sinking Titanic. Of course it’s hard to prove the provenance but it’s a nice story and I’m sticking with it.

I’m going to mount them on the ceiling of the wheelhouse control room in my lifeboat studio, using a concertina scissor mechanism. This will give me a sweeping view of the North Sea, where yachts frequently founder on the shallow sandbanks. Sweet!

Rumour has it that the residents of small villages in Cornwall and the Hebrides used to rig fake navigation and lure ships onto the rocks, then plunder their cargos. I think this would be a terrific way to fund the completion of the studio, and for that matter, my forthcoming album. Lifeboat turns pirate ship! I love it.

I was emailing back and forth with my old friend Grant Morris, a mad New Zealander. I remember when he was an alternative DJ in New Orleans and he’d play my song ‘I Love You Goodbye’ and people would call in and complain about the fact I said ‘county sheriff’ when in fact Louisiana has parishes, not counties; and they’d marvel at how I could drive all night to the Everglades (Florida) and then crash the car and stand there listening to the bayou (Louisiana!) rain. I could only reply that when you’re writing song lyrics, the historical and geographical (and even grammatical!) precision of the words is less important than how it SINGS. Grant wrote me this back today… very pertinent on the lyrical front, but ending with a classic quote about 4th July that could only have come from an elderly New Zealand mum.

“I agree with you 100%. Better that it sings well than makes any literal sense. I’m not sure that you even WANT a song to make literal sense. Even country songs that are the most literal of all aren’t really. What the hell is a “ring of fire”? When you “walk the line” how do you actually keep your “eye out for the ties that bind”? What does that even mean? It would be a pretty funny SNL sketch to sit down with some of the most famous song lyrics in a meeting with an executive and his results of a focus group test. “Do you have to WANT to hold her hand? Couldn’t it be something a little more ambitious? Could you want to hold her “bag”? It could be about shopping and everybody loves to shop don’t they?” Looking at lyrics cold without music is crazy. Hey, you know who you might like who sings some pretty good narrative songs, Rodney Crowell. Do you know his stuff? If not check out a 2001 album called The Houston Kid and listen to I Walk The Line (revisited) and you’ll be hooked from there.

Happy 4th of July! I was talking to my mother on Skype yesterday and she asked me “Who does the United States celebrate independence from?”. I told her “The British”. She looked genuinely surprised and said, “Did they have the Poms over there as well?”.”

A lot of people have been asking me about Rachelle Garniez, who sings backups and plays the Claviola in the last two clips from the TED House Band. So here’s a lovely song of Rachelle’s, also recorded earlier this year.

I first met Rachelle circa 2002 when we shared a stage in, of all places, Las Vegas! I’d been asked as a favour to play at a CDBaby event they called ‘Tour Baby’ where several of the artists that sell CDs on their site get together regionally for a free concert. It took place in an outlying casino called (I think) The New Orleans, in a kind of restaurant/lounge bar. I had never heard of Rachelle but I was instantly taken with her music, her oddball stage presence, and her funny lyrics. She’s a brilliant solo accordianist, coming from a very musical family and with strong European, Louisiana, and Americana roots. She started up an intro on accordian and it was clear right away she’s a great technician with a lot of feeling. Then she broke into song: “I’m a sucker for a broken nose…” and it went on intriguingly from there! We exchanged contact info and it struck me some time later that she’d be great at TED. So the next year we invited her to do a solo spot at TED, and it went over very well. She stuck around for the whole four days—as most performers do—and made some friends among the explorers and novellists and venture capitalists, many of whom fell madly in love with her and bugged me for her phone number.

The following year I asked her to play with my house band. I had no evidence that she would be as good a ‘team player’ as she was a soloist, but I just had a hunch she’s an intuitive musician, the kind I like best. Sure enough, she turned out to be a delight: very quick to latch onto an arranging idea, totally fluent in every key, and always spontaneous and uplifting with her tasty accordian and Claviola elaborations.

That year (2004) she shared the vocals with me on such classics as ‘Happy Talk’, ‘By A Waterfall’ and of course ‘La Vie En Rose’ which you can see here. We stayed in touch and I asked her back in ‘08. She has a new album out, ‘Melusine Years‘, which I think is her best yet, with a maturity to the songwriting and calssic edge that some have said is reminiscent of Tom Waits or Randy Newman.

‘Hello Cruel World’ is one of a couple of Rachelle’s original songs that we played at TED. The lyric seemed especially appropriate in a year when world experts talked to us about mushrooms that could take over the planet; a fast-approaching breakthrough in the creation of synthetic lifeforms; and whether or not we can ‘domesticate’ germs.

This must be the mother of all forklifts! We used it to take the diesel engine out of my lifeboat, as it is no longer needed. If anybody wants it, it’s going on eBay tomorrow for £250! (The engine that is, not the forklift.) It’s a Perkins 99 Marine 4 in good working order, 3000 miles on the clock.

Okay, you asked for it, another song from the TED House Band: this time, a cover of a nifty Dan Hicks tune about alien abductions, which originally appeared on his album ‘Beat The Heat.’

There’s a healthy belief in life on other planets at TED. Some of this is fueled by physicists and astronomers there like Stephen Hawking and Freeman Dyson who confidently predict that it’s only a matter of time. Every now and then we get a complete nutter who claims to have been beamed up and subjected to anal probes and cruel sexual experiments. Just the evening before we’d heard of how the pyramids were actually alien pleasure palaces. So this tune seemed very appropriate, and the band is rocking! My vocal sounds like I’ve been at the Jack Daniels. Rachelle Garniez pops in as a kind of interstellar flight attendant, and provides a nice overblown claviola solo. I have an acoustic guitar patch dialed up on my Yamaha Motif 8 (as I did on ‘Tubas In The Moonlight’) which enables some good interplay with Mark Stewart’s actual acoustic.

Dan Hicks sent me a sweet postcard from California (surprise, Dan don’t do email) and seemed pleased that I’d covered another of his songs…. as you recall, he also penned ‘I Scare Myself’ which I covered on ‘The Flat Earth.’ I am so glad he’s still with us! I took a few liberties with the lyrics as I only remembered about 2/3 of them and I don’t own a copy of the original. Enjoy!