You are sitting

…in the airport lounge in Melbourne, caressing a cup of coffee. It’s 6 am on Friday and you’re on the way to Hobart to play a couple of gigs with your band Let The Cat Out. You feel a little like a victorious thief about to jump in the getaway car – having escaped the office and the world of urban water politics, climate predictions and catchment models a day early. A thief, and a fraud – the beating heart and restless pen of a song-writer hiding amidst the anonymity of office hustle – you wonder how long it will be before someone calls you out. With 3 albums recorded and a fourth on the way, you are beginning to think this song-writing caper isn’t something you are going to grow out of – quite hopefully the opposite. Perhaps there is some validity in telling people your name, getting this website together….

You are roused by the buzz of possible futures… like a circuit that’s not fully connected. You look forward to playing with your old band. It feels like coming home; to the the musicians who helped you cut some of your musical teeth, and home to the roots, blues, funk and soul. But your mind is full and busy in the background with thoughts of the next album: the possible sonic-scape, who to work with…. The unfinished chorus of your latest song is on constant rotation on the record-player of your subconscious; a lump of clay, showing hints of a shape, spinning on the wheel waiting for hands to create form and sense from the raw material.

You are tired, but happy. It’s going to be another long day…