I won an award!

Hi folks

It has been just shy of an exact year since I published anything on this blog. I think this is down to a) 2015 being the busiest of my life, and b) ... look, it doesn’t matter. Point is, I’m here now. 

And the reason is I won an award! I actually sort of won two. The Telegraph put Songs About Other People at the very top of their Best Folk Albums of 2015 list (perhaps because I put mine out first...), and then FATEA Magazine chose The Ballad of Ronnie Radford as Track of the Year. Both of these things are very exciting and heartening. I’ve sat with the album a lot this year, played the songs countless times, wondered why it didn’t get a lot of radio play, questioned and re-questioned my writing and my performing and my ability. I’m at a stage now where I think: yeah, it’s a good record. It’s good. It’s nice. It’s not perfect, it could be better, but I’m happy with it. 

The fact that other people like my music, people who don’t even know me personally, is still incredibly strange and funny to me, but I’m getting more used to that too. Things like these awards help push me into more people’s faces, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful. Baby steps, y’know. 

Anyway, I’m doing exactly one tour this year, because I did 3 last year and it was difficult, and because I want to spend some time in the studio. I’ll be touring in June, the first two weeks, with some dates pencilled in already. Want me to play in your town? Let me know, I’ll try my best. 

Also, I’ll be doing a lot more around London with Greyhounds Greyhounds Greyhounds. All fun. 

Much love

Harry

I'm going on tour...like, today.

Morning all I'm writing this while coffee is boiling, enjoying the unseasonable warmth that's coming through my window in South London. It's probably still pretty brisk outside, but I'll take advantage of this pocket of sun while I can.

Just a quick one to remind you that my UK tour begins today - it's pretty scattergun, kind of in 3 rounds of 4. Here are all the dates, including tonight's show.

13.1 - Malt Cross, Nottingham16.1 - The Globe at Hay, Hay on Wye 17.1 -  Kilderkin, Edinburgh 18.1 - House Concert, West Lothian 21.1 - The Zanzibar, Liverpool 22.1 - The Frog & Fiddle, Cheltenham 23.1 - Love's Cafe, Weston Super Mare 24.1 - CARAD, Rhayader 27.1 - The Prince Albert, Brighton 28.1 - Green Note, London *ALBUM LAUNCH* 30.1 - Squeeze Cafe, Leigh on Sea 31.1 - Union Music Store, Lewes

Phew. Lots of places there, lots I haven't been to before, a few that will feel like homecomings. I can't wait, recordings albums is great and sending emails is part of the job, but playing live is what it's all about really. I hope you come to a show, and bring a friend, or tell a friend to go if you can't. If you do come, tweet about it, instagram it, buy a record, buy two! Burn them, share them. I'm doing more shows in February & March, want to see as much of the country as possible, maybe some new ones too.

Lots of love

Harry

For Auld Lang Syne...

Happy new year, y'all. I rang in 2015 drinking Lemsip and watching Broadchurch - it wasn't ideal but them's the breaks. Thankfully it was blackcurrant lemsip, which is practically Prosecco compared to lemon, and Broadchurch is really good (he says a million years late).

2014 was a hard year, for many people I know. Nothing major, no huge obstacles, just a feeling of the world working on you a bit. Talking to friends and seeing chat on Twitter, it seemed there were times this year when everyone had to grit their teeth and slog through.

That said, professional it was the most enriching, galvanising and inspiring I've ever had. I met wonderful musicians and became good friends with them, bands and artists I think will make beautiful things for a long time, in no particular order: Oh Sister, Jess Morgan, Josienne Clarke & Ben Walker, Luke & Charlotte Ritchie, Andrew Butler, Ned Roberts, Lucy Cait, Blue Rose Code, The Lake Poets, Winterfalle, Tom Hyatt, the list goes on. London is alive right now with genuinely incredible songwriters playing these beautiful shows, often at lovely hidden venues with cheap booze and no cover charge - your new year's resolution should be to go out and see them all. The city is in a fantastic place musically right now, I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

I also finished my own record, with the help of all of you - the crowdfunding campaign was terrifying but I'm so glad I did it, it really gave me a boost and spurred me on to not only make the album a beautiful thing (which I think it is) but to work on my performances and generally get better. That's what we're all striving for right? Whether we're writers or comedians or painters or butchers or chefs or bloggers or whatever - we all want to get better.

Much of 2014, particularly the latter half, felt like getting everything ready for what was to come. I'm putting out a record in a couple of weeks, and I have nearly 30 shows booked up until April, including some not in this country (watch this space). This'll be my busiest 'being a musician' year ever, which is exciting and galvanising, but the work hasn't even begun - the work is playing the shows, playing them good, and then getting more, building momentum. I feel like a small rock and the top of a snowy hill waiting to be pushed down. Don't know how snowy, don't know how big the hill is, don't really know what the surface of the rock is like, and therefore how adept it is at rolling, still bad with metaphors.

So here's a hand, my trusted friend.Take a cup of kindness and all that. I hope to see lots of you as the months tick away, either at gigs or in the pub or just around the place. I think it'll be a good one.

Lots of love, H.

I covered A Thousand Trees

When I was home over the Summer to play Festival Number 6 I thought I'd take advantage of making a video in my nice green lounge with my old nylon string - on the way to the festival I listened to Word Gets Around, a truly brilliant album that I have talk about at length here

A Thousand Trees is obviously a highlight, and I've had a go at doing it justice. Hope you dig.

Songs About Other People - An Update

I'm posting late. I have a week off and it's fucked with my body clock, so forgive me. I wanted to update you on Songs About Other People. All good news.

So, I've sent the album to press and got the proofs back today - other than a slight design issue with the lyric booklet, which I'll fix Monday, it's looking lovely. Once again, my pal Miranda Foxx needs immense credit for all her hard work on the design, I think it looks really special and is in keeping with the tone of the album. All being well, I should have copies in...2-3 weeks?

Then I'll start giving them to you! If you don't live in London I'll send out packages, if you do then I'll likely just try and meet you in a pub, or even better, get you ALL in a room together, play some songs for you and give you your CDs and gifts and stuff. Haven't thought that bit through yet, but in my mind it'll be much much easier, and would save me spending hella money on stamps. Did nooo factor stamps into the crowdfunding campaign. Hey-ho.

I'm also booking gigs, with a few nice London ones coming up - 7th October opening for my pal Jess Morgan at Servant Jazz Quarters in Stokey, 23rd October opening for French For Rabbits at The Harrison and 20th November at my old haunt The Pelton Arms in Greenwich. More still to be announced. Do come along. I got new tunes.

Thanks for your patience and support, this year has been great, busy and fulfilling and rewarding, and for the first time in the 10 or so years I've been writing songs and playing shows, I think there may be a time in the not too distant future where it could be all I day. Something to shoot for, certainly.

OH, and if you're in Gloucester this Saturday I'll be playing Folk In A Box at Strike A Light Festival, I cannot wait.

Safe travels,

H

What I Write About When I Write About Music

I don't think I'd make a very good music journalist. It used to be a career I coveted - going to gigs, interviewing my heroes, discovering someone and championing them until they got the chance to do music and nothing else. It's a pretty romantic notion.

And I have written about music before, mostly at Sabotage Times, but I never feel comfortable doing it. I think because, when I love a band, or an album, I don't want to write about it, I want to bend your ears and just say "listen to this". Three words, that's all I ever want to say. "Listen to this", sometimes with a plea at the start. Any more always comes out of me sounding extraneous. 

That said, I want to tell you to listen to some people. I'm going to try and use more words than those three, but really those are still the most important ones.

Up until a few weeks ago I had never heard of Hiss Golden Messenger, but thanks to Spotify he was suggested to me, and I'm *so* glad he was - Spotify gets ragged on a lot but its algorithm is pretty incredible, and as a musician with soon to be two records on the platform, it encourages me that some clever bit of code might be pushing my music out to some bloke in Canada whose path I otherwise would not cross.

I'll stick to the new record, Lateness Of Dancers, because that's what I'm listening to right now, the gorgeous single Mahogany Dread. The record seems to be about getting older, and this song especially. Usually 'getting older' songs are ruminations on mortality, reflections on a life not lived well enough, seldom are they like this - warm, tender eulogies to having a a family and settling down. Lyrically it's really quite simple, just short, succinct sentences, but the tone of it knocks you out.

"Girl I don't mind the silver in your hair / oh and I still want you / it's getting hard to be easy now / a couple of kids / mahogany dread / but happy days are still ahead"

That first line. I adore that first line. I unashamedly and without irony love the idea that a middle aged musician is singing about the woman he loves. Also, "I still want you", not "I want you" - that still, how much weight is in that word, it changes the whole tone of the line.

It's a perfect album for me, and his others - Haw, Poor Moon and Bad Debt - all are too. But it's tracks 7,8 and 9 that really take the record to the next level. Black Dog Wind (Rose of Roses) is taken straight out of a Houston songwriters circle in the 60s and 70s, Townes Van Zandt stuff.

"I lost myself in the jackknife daylight / I sang rock of ages 'til I was cross eyed"

A really different lyric to the previous one. "Jackknife daylight" is dripping with Americana, and the loose, lazy rhyme, coupled with that pleasingly familiar 'rock of ages' reference, is just gorgeous. It feels like a prayer.

The fact that this then swings into Southern Grammar is remarkable. Southern Grammar should be on Music From Big Pink. It has that carnival-esque gulchy swing that The Band did so well on tracks like Ophelia or King Harvest, that snarling wah-wah guitar, those Gospel tinted lyrics - short phrases, strung  out, like a preacher being lifted by his congregation. I didn't think songs like this were written these days. And it doesn't sound like a parody or a rehash, it sounds fresh and thick and gutsy, it sounds real.

So to track 9, Chapter & Verse (Ione's Song), which slows down again - another southern hymnal. Three piano chords draw you in, like a curtain being opened. Pianos can be devastating and totally heartbreaking - John Hiatt's Have A Little Faith In Me, Randy Newman's Dixie Flyer - and here it's the star too, with hammond organ giving that texture that this music just cries out for. It actually reminds me of my friend Eric Taylor's version of Delia, from his Scuffletown record.

"Quick to lose / and hard to gain / all I got to give you are these songs I sing / so tell me true / ain't that enough?"

Again, simple, but it's in the delivery. Good singers aren't the ones with the best ranges or the most interesting tones, they're the ones who know what the song wants, and how the song should be sung, and also, why the song should be sung. There is reason and thought and clarity behind every note sung on this record.

I genuinely can't remember the last time I was this blown away by someone, I feel like a teenager listening to August & Everything After. Sometimes music comes along at a time where you think it was made just for you. When I write about music I want to write music, and do nothing else. I'm about to print up my 2nd album, and all being well go on tour to promote it, and all being really well get to make another one. It's records like this that spur me on.

If you read to the end, thanks. See you soon.

H. xx

Crowdfunding Is Frightening

In 22 hours time the crowdfunding campaign on my 2nd album, "Songs About Other People", will come to a close. Currently I am at £1270, 63% of the hugely ambitious target of £2000. When I set that target I thought to myself "If I get a grand, I'll be thrilled", so genuinely, this money is amazing and will help so much. To the 55 funders and the countless others who've shared or retweeted, thank you. You're all fucking brilliant.

Crowdfunding is frightening. Not when you're Zach Braff and you have millions of fans who want a piece of you and will pay for the privilege, then it's the easiest thing in the world. But for folks like me - no fans, no cred, just songs - then it's a real leap. I've been reluctant to do it for so long, because I've been scared - what if I make nothing? What if nobody gives a shit? etc. etc. etc.

What I have had as armour throughout this whole thing though is belief. Belief that this record is a good record, is better than my last record. That these songs are good songs, that people will enjoy listening to. That the production is warm and well suited, that the players knew what they were doing, that the stories are funny and sad and will make you listen. I believe that. I believe this is a record that might get a review, that there's a couple of songs that might get spun. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't know, I've been having a better time musically this year than I think I've had before - more gigs and more encouragement I guess - so I guess the iron is hotter than it's ever been, which is still fairly tepid, but still.

So thanks. Kofi Acheampong, Francis Newall, Monika Okulska, Rachael Krishna, Victoria Gowans, Will Donovan, Stylusboy, Alex Filim, Beatrix Moran, Paul Thomas, Sue Thomas, Achas Burin (who could be someone else, going by an email address), Florence Vincent, Ella Blake, Polly Paulusma, Jamie Drew, Jenny Rossdale, Laura Moody, Ian Morley, Chris Morley, Elaine Morley, Lauren Morley, Marlena Dachnowicz, Pip Eldridge, Susie Bould, Sophie Critchlow, Felix Cohen, Charlie Burness, Dave Cottrell, Toby Finley, Chris Thomas, Paul Hewlett, Joe Thomas, James Hodder, Ziggy!, Caroline O Donoghue (HOUND!), Lauren Ball, Kieran O Keeffe, Stella Birrell, Nikita Wilson, Joel Golby, Aaron Weight, Richard Standen, Bec Hampson, Richard Wallace, Sophie Mitchell, Tom McInnes, Immy Doman, Gary Smith, Steve Howlett, Amy Shearing, Matt Diegan, Matt Tindall, Duncan Vicat-Brown, Janina Matthewson, and Carlotta Eden for telling me the whole time that I shouldn't be scared. You're all fucking brilliant. I can't wait for you to hear it.

11 Albums Of The Year

In no particular order:

Autre Ne Veut - Anxiety: superbly produced, beautifully put together pop music. Highlights are Gonna Die and World War. As good a record as I can remember. 

Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires Of The City: Hannah Hunt putting Ezra Koenig firmly in the bracket of "great American writers".

Jason Isbell - Southeastern: a huge step up in terms of songwriting for this guy. Elephant the most emotionally draining song of the year, a gut punch, incredible. 

Phosphorescent - Muchacho: Those strings on Song For Zula. Gorgeous. 

Justin Timberlake - The 20/20 Experience: much of the beginning of the year was spent listening to this and dancing to Suit & Tie, often while drunk. I regret nothing. Huge. 

Night Beds - Country Sleep: same label as Phosphorescent, reminded me of early Ryan Adams, really good alt-country.

Haim - Days Are Gone: can't think of a bad word to say against this band. I don't think the term "overplayed" applies when the songs are so good. The real dead. 

Deap Vally - Sistrionix: Grungey, sexy, noisy, Joplin-esque deliciousness. Lovely ladies 'n all. 

Tegan & Sara - Heartthrob: Not a bad track on this electro-pop gem. So wonderful live. 

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Push The Sky Away: It's ok that Tom Waits doesn't put out music all the time because when he doesn't, Nick Cave usually does. 

Fall Out Boy - Save Rock & Roll: I honestly thought I'd left Fall Out Boy back in my teens, but hey, apparently not. 

Haven't listened to Trouble Will Find Me or A.M - I'm sure they're both great. 

A new song that I played at Green Note a couple weeks back, unplugged. It's called "I Wish I Knew You In Montana" - it's about girls who wear cowboy boots and ride horses and like whiskey. 

Top 5 Sailing Songs

So there’s a story in my family and it goes like this:

As a teen, my brother Jack - of being Jack Harris fame - wanted to write a song about sailing. My Father - who it should be noted doesn’t sail - said to him: 

"The thing about sailing is that from the shore, boats look calm, steady, but when you get on them, they rock"

Now, even someone with a cursory understanding of innuendo would realise that my Dad ain’t talking about boats there. But that story did get me thinking about sailing songs*. Here are my top 5, in no real order. 

Randy Newman - Sail Away - Randy's great, he also talks about sailing in one of the songs from Toy Story. Clearly a fan. 

Little Feat - Sailin' Shoes - Little Feat singer Lowell George loved sailing so much he named an entire album "Sailin' Shoes". One of my favourite bands. 

Nic Jones - The Humpback Whale - totally brilliant and brutal folk song about whaling. It's pretty detailed. 

Lyle Lovett - If I Had A Boat - I wouldn't like to hang with Lyle on his boat. It sounds like it'd be dangerous. Only other time I can think of an equine mammal on a boat is in The Ring and that didn't end well. Great song nonetheless.

Van Morrison - Into The Mystic - take us home Van. 

*A manifest lie. The brilliant owner of this blog asked me about my top 5 sailing songs. That reminded me of the story.

Stomping On Stages

A quick note to remind y'all of 2 lovely shows I'm playing this week. 

30th October - I'll be playing at the Green Note in Camden, a gem of a venue. Intimate, run by great people, always a nice atmosphere. Better still, I'll be playing with my labelmates - Stylusboy and Polly Paulusma. There are no advance tickets available, but there'll be some at the door. My Dad's coming 'n all. He's a good laugh. 

31st October - Heading south of the river for a free show at The Pelton Arms in Greenwich with The Icarus Club. Always a great lineup, and a great pub. If you've not got Halloween plans, do come along. 

And speaking of Halloween plans, y'all should come to Kill The Beast Theatre's Black Market Ball on 2nd November. It'll be dark and twisted and hilarious. It's also free. Ruddy free. 

Hope you're enjoying the storm. Fuck all going on here. 

My Top 5 Guitar Players

Conversation turned to one of my favourite bands, Rilo Kiley, on Twitter the other day, and once again I was reminded what a fantastic and underrated guitarist Blake Sennett is. It got me thinking of guitar players I love, and I came up with this 5 - I've tried to attach examples of their brilliance, where possible...

Blake Sennett - Rilo Kiley / The Elected

Like Nick Zinner crossed with Nile Rodgers crossed with honey-dripping Nashville country. A great lead player and finger picker. His playing across all of RK's records is wonderful, but huge soft spot for Under The Blacklight, particularly this riff.

Rilo Kiley - Silver Lining

Tad Kubler - The Hold Steady

For my money the best out-and-out rock guitarist there is. His tone, as much as anything, is sublime. He can wail when he wants to, but knows when to hold back. This is my favourite of his solos.

The Hold Steady - Lord I'm Discouraged

Martin Simpson

Fingerstyle playing is like poetry or theatre, it's the closest a guitar can come to sounding like an entire orchestra. It has that rise and fall, that narrative to it that is absent elsewhere, and Martin Simpson's playing moves me in a way nobody else's does. This song's about a hare. It's gorgeous. 

Martin Simpson - The Granemore Hare

Jerry Douglas

Sort of doesn't count this, considering he plays exclusively lap-style slide, but hell, it's my blog, so I make the rules. If I could have one wish in my life, it would be for Jerry Douglas to play on one of my songs. Here he is being a fucking boss. 

Jerry Douglas being incredible

Last but not least...My Dad

So I played music because my Dad used to play the guitar and sing around the house. He sang me to sleep with old songs like J.J Cale's Magnolia, Pretty Saro, Raggle Taggle Gypsies, and stuff he made up. His first guitar was a Gretsch he got off a mate of his Dad's who said he could have it on a downpayment...Dad just didn't bother to pay the rest.

We had an old nylon string he used to play, but more recently he bought a vintage Harmony that he loves and that I'm awfully glad he's not selling. There's an old black Ibanez electric in the house he turns up from time to time too, and a baby Tacoma. He plays bluesy, jazzy things mostly, joining in when my brother and I sing. He plays like he's never stopped enjoying it, and he turned 63 in September. Nothing of his on YouTube mind.

Top 5 Jobs...a la High Fidelity

I re-watched High Fidelity on Saturday. It's great. I haven't read the book so don't get the "It's not in Holloway anymore boo" criticisms. As far as I can tell it's just about blokes doing blokey things. Could be set in Newport. And Newport's a shithole.

Anyway there's a bit with Rob lists his Top 5 jobs, which got me thinking about mine:

1) Folk singer - Greenwich Village, the 1960s - get to hang with Dylan, Dave Van Ronk, play every night, maybe meet DA Pennebaker. 2) Screenwriter - New York, 1970s - work with Scorsese, De Niro, John Cazale, write gangster stuff and give to much more talented directors. Win hella Oscars. 3) Journalist - London, 1990s - work on rad magazines, write about films and music, champion early days of alt-country, travel world. 4) Session guitarist - LA, 1980s - play power chords for loads of hair metal bands. Bit part character in Wayne's World. 5) Poet - New York, 1950s - get to hang with beats, Frank O'Hara, John Ashbery etc. Maybe do some painting on the side.

What are yours?

Notes From "The Day I Met The King"

My heart beats faster for American things, that's the way it's always been. I have Romantic notions of long stretching highways, of whiskey-soaked saloons, of dust bowls and dive bars and deep-bucket blues. It informs much of what I write and even more of what I think about. 

I have a song, it's called The Day I Met The King, and it will be on my next record. It's the story of a man who meets a girl, and they fall in love, and in the middle of their relationship he meets Elvis Presley, who gives him a silver dollar as a kind of good luck charm. The story doesn't end well, and the dollar remains a kind of symbol for a tiny moment on the crest of a giant wave. It's a song I'm fond of, I hope you will be too. 

A couple weeks back me and some pals got together to make a short film inspired by the song. Francis Newall & Matt Diegan, who together make up the filmmaking duo Moral Hangover, were on directing duties, Tom McCagherty brought along a bunch of lights and the three of them worked so hard making everything look beautiful - dear friend Owen Blackhurst, head of content at Sabotage Times, allowed us use of a part of his home that was perfect for the shoot. I'm really happy with how it came out. Delighted, in fact. We've submitted it to a short film competition and are keeping everything crossed, if you could too that'd be swell.

Then there's the script. I knew it couldn't just be the story of the song, that'd just be dull. The song is just a narrative, no lyrical bells or whistle really, so the film needed to lead into that, or feed into it. I couldn't write anything. I'm too close to the song, to the idea of the character, I thought it better if I asked someone to throw their 2 cents in, hoping something more interesting would come out of it. 

So I asked a new friend, Carlotta Eden, to write something. Carlotta co-edits Synaesthesia Magazine, listens to brilliant music and is generally a pretty wonderful person. She also writes incredibly, infused with the same gritty American twang that I like so much. You can follow her on here.

This is what she sent me, which I then picked at and turned into a script. It's an absolutely beautiful piece of writing and I wanted to share it, with her permission. Video coming shortly...

---

I got this real pretty trombone, all shiny brass metal and a rusty horn, hangin’ up in my bedroom. Lasted me 60 years. She’s a sturdy girl, real beauty. Never gave me trouble, not once. Well, ‘cept this time one night on Beale Street when she coulda collapsed in my arms, but that was my fault. Worked her too hard. Almost blew her to smithereens, song after song. Prolly Marty’s fault, he’d booked us 10 sets in a row, am to pm. Nashville to Memphis. “It’s what folks do in Music City,” he said... I remember wanting to beat those words back where he came from. All that sweat and breath I’d lost singing the same damn songs over and over... those same songs we all hated but... hell, we didn’t have anything else and Marty didn’t wanna play any other songs. “Those are strangers’ songs! We got somethin’ her.” Goddamnit. S’all we used to hear – that we had somethin’. I always thought it was ‘cause he didn’t know how to play anythin’ else – though he was a great player, real good, put all the grit and dynamo and ass in that guitar – he just never knew what else he wanted to play, till he sang Kimbrough on his guitar in Sandy and I swear... I swear, I almost ate my boot.

But this trombone, my trombone... I mean, I got her hangin’ up on my wall and I got this light above her that shines on her slide real nice, like one of them famous museums – I’ll tell ya, she’s nice enough for a museum, beechwood pretty, a coupla scratches here and there but nothin someone’s mama couldn’t fix, some say it’s nicer that way. I mean I sure think so – but I got her hangin’ up on my wall with this real nice light shinin’ down on her, but it’s broke, this light’s goddamn broke. And I, Marty’s outta town so he can’t fix it and I know Junior ain’t got a clue, s’much as me, so I don’t know... I dunno what to do. I like looking at that trombone on the wall. Almost makes me sad lookin’ at her without a light, like she ain’t good enough, and I’ll tell ya, she’s good enough alright! Sung all the greats and played am to pm without breakin’ on me, ‘cept this one time of course, but I don’t even count it. And now this light’s broken, I don’t really know how to fix it. I called Marty and he said fixin’ a light’s like fixin’ a trombone but I tried ... I just don’t know where to start. S’not just the bulb. I could fix that. It’s got these screws that’d’ve come loose and it’s a soily job puttin’ ‘em back together when I don’t got the right screws or... or anythin like that.

I never figured Marty’d be one for gettin’ sick. I knew he drank too much, and he sure as hell smoked too much, but we all drank and smoked too much. And we all did it together so it never seemed that bad, and none of us ever got sick, it was like we were immune, or somethin’. [slight pause] but Marty, well, he’s as sick as a hound dog right about now. Sick, down to the bone. And y’know what he said to me? “It’s the cowboy way,” he said. Like he’s some sorta Billy Pickett. Never even rode a horse! What kind of a cowboy doesn’t ride a horse?

She used to say he talked like a train... ol’ Marty. Way he’d chime in and outta conversation. Real slow, like he got somewhere to be but he didn’t care how long it took him. “You talk like a train, Marty, you know that? Way you chug in and outta station all the time. Like a cargo train.”

I used to know a man like that. Now he... he was a born star. When they put him to bed he didn’t need a light. His guitar didn’t need a light, but I bet it’s probably lit up somewhere, somewhere in one of them museums. He sang songs about dancin’ and prayin’ and lovin’, and all that, and you’d have heard of him, I’m sure, but when he spoke - and he didn’t speak all that much, not much, not to us anyway - he’d speak real slow, like a cargo train. He chundered and splattered and sometimes he ran outta steam mid-talk and he couldn’t find his way back ‘till someone else remind him. Guess that’s what that stuff can do to you, I don’t he think he sang about it for nothin’ – all that stuff he took. I don’t think he sang about anythin’ for nothin’.

I think she’d’a liked him though, my girl. I think she’d’a liked him a lot.

Y’know, funny thing is, is that he never really spoke to us all much, but when he did, he had this smile and this laugh you just couldn’t get enough of. They say, they sometimes say some folks got this stage thing, where you’re on stage and you gotta put on this whole act to show the world you know what’s going on, or, you drank too much whiskey so you don’t, but when he spoke to us and he smiled that awful smile it was like he was always on stage and always singin’ them songs. He had this way of makin’ music with the way that he talked and moved his hands, it was... damn, it was a privilege to watch. Watching him almost everyday, almost always in his sweats. Back then I worked on his house - and I guess y’all know I’m talking about the King - but I worked on his house for a while, back when it was getting all built up and it prolly didn’t look as great as it did now, and we barely ever caught him face to face, just always heard him jivin’ or talkin’ to his band or his girl or his mama. His studio was built up before anything else so we could always hear him workin’ and singin’, doing both -  but this one time... this one time, when I did catch him, he wasn’t workin’... and he was, it was great. Real great.

Damn, I gotta get this light fixed.

Synaesthesia

As far as Saturday's go, this hasn't been the best. That last week before payday always drags on, I'm glad to be getting away for a couple of days tomorrow to record some new songs and instrumental music with Polly. Music has never been a catharsis for me (and when it has been, it's not been good), but I do feel like a couple of days solidly playing and thinking about my guitar might be a nice break.

That's not what I want to write about though. I want to write about Synaesthesia, which is three things: firstly, it's a damn difficult word to spell; secondly, it refers to a kind of sensory crossover, a trigger effect that one sense may have upon another, for reasons unknown; thirdly, and most importantly, it's a brilliant creative writing journal that a new thing of mine is getting published in on Monday - follow @SynaesthesiaMag on Twitter for details as to where you can  get it. 

"Creative writing" is such a redundant term isn't it? I mean, writing is by definition a creative act. It's like "Investigative journalism," what journalism isn't investigative? What writing isn't creative? Answer: bad journalism and bad writing. So in fact no, Synaesthesia isn't a creative writing journal to me, it's a collection of stories, and also it's a great exercise. Each month they set a theme, most recently this was "Green," and you go off and make something up on this. I wrote a short story about a guy hungover at a football match, trying to bring out the colours of the field and show the pitch start as this beautiful carpet, before slowly getting kicked to rack and ruin and pounded with dense rain. I think it's a good idea, but the story I wrote wasn't great. Maybe I'll try again. Then, I wrote a song, called "Greenstone," which I'm much happier about. That'll be published, I might play it at my gig at The Amersham Arms next week too. 

What I love about things like this is that they force your hand. They call you out as a writer and say "Ok then, if you're a writer, then write something." They make you up your game. It's good to have challenges like this. Even when I'm not writing songs, I'm scrawling stuff down, copying out conversations I overhear or re-writing other people's songs. Just because something is creative, doesn't mean you shouldn't try and work on it, and get better at it. I've still got a lot to learn as a writer, and things like this really help. Also it's good to get advice and feedback on your stuff from people whose stuff you also like. A song is never finished until it's played to people, and you've seen their reaction. You should never be precious about what you make, you should find people you trust and beg for their advice. The other day my friend Francis was indulging me in hearing a new song, and he made a really simple but fucking fantastic suggestion of repeating one line in the 2nd verse. I wouldn't have had that idea, and the song is better for it. Find him at @Moral_Hangover, where he and our pal Matt make excellent films. 

It's nice to be writing again. I had a fallow period of about a year where nothing was really coming, or maybe I wasn't looking for anything. I've written 4 new songs in the past few weeks, different to my older stuff too, bigger, fuller, songs that I want to belt out with a band, so that's exciting. Come along to hear them. If you think they're shit, tell me.

My producer Polly Paulusma has recently been working on this rather fantastic looking movie, starring Nico Rogner and the stupendously marvellous Louise Brealey, of Sherlock fame. Michael Price, who wrote the score for Sherlock, is also lending his musical talents to this, and it was written by Polly's sister Tammy Riley-Smith. This is the first poster, certainly not the last.

http://deliciousthefilm.com/wp/

Delicious Teaser poster. Coming soon! Please RT

Third Reels, Wild Sounds and Other People...

...It's the Saturday before the Saturday before payday and I'm sat at home listening to Eric Taylor's "Live at The Red Shack" record, my guitar slung across my floor, caffeine swimming through my veins. I'm getting my shit together to tell you about what I've been doing, what I'm doing now, and what I'm hopefully going to be doing over the next year - with a bit of help, and a bit of luck. 

At the beginning of 2012 something very strange happened. I had the most wonderful gig of my life, something which will never be topped, and then I played a show which made me want to stop playing altogether. I won't name the place, because in truth it wasn't the fault of the place. In fact, it was, on paper, a lovely show - good crowd, attentive, perfect really, but for some reason I got off stage and felt overwhelmed and anxious and sick. I hated playing. I hated the songs I had and on stage that night, I stared into the audience and all I saw were people who weren't enjoying it. That's what I felt anyway, perhaps they were, I don't know.

So I stopped playing guitar, stopped looking for gigs, deleted my myspace (long overdue) and stopped singing. I started watching more movies, and working on a screenplay, and also writing for Sabotage Times and a few other blogs, whilst simultaneously looking for a job that didn't involve me making coffee for people. People asked me about music during this time and I didn't really know what to say to them. I stopped short of saying I'd given up, but really, I sort of had. Songs weren't coming, or when they were, they were just staying in my head and in my book. They weren't forming part of a record, or going on stages, they were just songs, and there weren't many of them.

And that was kind of it...I made a feature film last summer, which I contributed an original song too, but that was very much a one off. That was until my friend and collaborator Polly Paulusma asked if she could put out the album we made many moons ago on her new record label, Wild Sound Recordings. Now, I would trust Polly with anything. She's a fiercely intelligent woman who has a fantastic mix of artistic creativity and business-like pragmatism. She writes fantastic songs, is wonderful to work with, and she gets shit done. So, when she asked me to release the record, I didn't really have to think twice...

THEN I ran into ANOTHER old friend of mine, another great musician by the name of Sam Beer, who you may know from The Treetop Flyers. I like Sam, I've always liked him, his music as well as his person. He mentioned having a studio over in East London with old analogue gear and some nice guitars. My feet started getting itchy. 

And then I started listening to music again, which sounds weird, but it's true. Karine Polwart's new record Traces came out, and lyrically it blew me away. I started digging back through The Hold Steady, Drive By Truckers, Magnolia Electric Co. I was reading more too. Richard Yates' "Eleven Kinds of Loneliness" astonished me with its ability to turn the dull minutiae of everyday life into something universal. I started writing again, and realised I had enough songs to make a record, and maybe knew enough people who'd want to help out. 

So that's what we did. We recorded "Songs About Other People" over three days in February, knocking out 10 songs, which isn't bad going. I've started assembling a kind of rogues gallery of musicians too, people who I can call on for future gigs and recording sessions. The album will come out under "Harry Harris & The Third Reel," to reflect that. A new start, of sorts. 

Most importantly though, I'm enjoying music again - listening and playing. I'm enjoying it safe in the knowledge that hey, maybe I won't ever get to play Union Chapel, and maybe I'll never open for Springsteen, but that's fine, because sometimes a stranger will tell me how much they liked something I wrote, and to me, that's gold. 

I'm gonna try and give you more updates as and when, about things that might be happening. I'm going to try and play as many shows as I can and keep the price down too. There's two exciting things that I'll hopefully be able to announce soon, but until then, thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy the stories. 

...oh, my first record is out July 1st (the same day as Jahmene from X Factor, so, a chart war will ensue) - you can pre-order it here

...and "Songs about Other People" by Harry Harris & The Third Reel will come out in the autumn, also on Wild Sound Recordings.

...and that's about it for now.