This was the band I gave my life for, between June 2006 and November 2007, for 88 live shows, for one released EP, a single and a half released EP. For all the broken fingers, cuts, bruises, broken hearts, and failed relationships.
I gave my heart, my soul, everything. I bled for this band.
We called it a day after battling through recording what should have been our second EP, the songs tell stories of falling apart, bad relationships and loss. We knew it was coming, but we still fought. Ultimately things came to a stop and we just gave it all up, left the 2nd EP to gather dust and moved on.
I told anyone who'd listen that i'd never go back.
I'd never go back.
Back.
This brings us to 2009, two whole fucking years since the last gig, the last chord of The Morning After echoing out, drenching the place in feedback, packing up the gear for the last time.
There are still stories to tell, we're still very angry, though in some respects we've mellowed with age. That fucking fire still burns though, and it eats me up inside til I think i'm going to be sick.
That's why we're dusting it off for another show, because of that desire, that burning inside the three of us.
Now more than ever it matters.
Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Davies and Mr. Holmes, like a moth to the flame, baby.
The Firebrand.
Tuesday 4 August 2009
Monday 3 August 2009
How 'It' Is
I am aching now, falling asleep but still thinking, still wandering and meandering through whatever path i've created.
I wrote a song about how I feel, i called it 'Lover'. 'Simple', I said. No joke titles. It's about a girl, some would say a love song - if you can believe that a Clay Statue can write one of those.
'I prefer the luxury of holding my hands up above the flames...'
I sang that with all my passion, about this girl, memories in my head of being underneath a swelling sky, black turning to blue, that feeling of dew upon your clothes from the night before, she feels like a part of you now, wrapped in an embrace they used to write poetry about, smiling, not saying anything but deep in conversation, noticing how the increasing light plays tricks on your mind, convincing you that you've noticed something you've never noticed before.
After you've felt that, waking up in a bed just isn't enough.
'Wake up with my lover (calm now), almost managed to forget myself...'
An aching in my bones now, lonely after only 3 hours alone, I can't think straight.
'If i'm lost then stay with me...'
Just say what you wanted to say....
I wrote a song about how I feel, i called it 'Lover'. 'Simple', I said. No joke titles. It's about a girl, some would say a love song - if you can believe that a Clay Statue can write one of those.
'I prefer the luxury of holding my hands up above the flames...'
I sang that with all my passion, about this girl, memories in my head of being underneath a swelling sky, black turning to blue, that feeling of dew upon your clothes from the night before, she feels like a part of you now, wrapped in an embrace they used to write poetry about, smiling, not saying anything but deep in conversation, noticing how the increasing light plays tricks on your mind, convincing you that you've noticed something you've never noticed before.
After you've felt that, waking up in a bed just isn't enough.
'Wake up with my lover (calm now), almost managed to forget myself...'
An aching in my bones now, lonely after only 3 hours alone, I can't think straight.
'If i'm lost then stay with me...'
Just say what you wanted to say....
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