The poor fellas were trying really hard to draw out some conversation from me. I drank more Spanish liquor with the hope that it would inspire words. Nothing. I gurgled something at one point though. And missed my mouth when I took a sip trying to practice nonchalance. They slowly gave up. And I got (more) drunk and slipped away semi-consciously into my sisters villa to find a place to fall asleep.
Breathe in for 4 seconds
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Breathe out for 4 seconds
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My sister had paid for me to come to Spain in her new home. I was still working shitty jobs and couldn’t afford to fly out there myself. Once there, I drank a lot of wine. I ate a lot of cheese. But I didn’t talk much. My brother in law’s younger brother was there with his best friend, having a right laugh. I didn’t know how to do this at that time. It intimidated me. So I hid inside.
The band had been over for months. Me and Sarb had committed to continue making music. But we hadn’t started yet. I had stopped writing. Frankly, I think I had stopped speaking too. I didn’t have any thing to say. I didn’t know what to say. When I spoke it was mostly incoherent gibberish. Defiance had been replaced by a real lack of direction and something more like mud.
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Breathe out for 4 seconds
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Desperate for something to do, whilst hiding inside the villa, I practiced meditation. My older sister was a teacher and she had taught me a practice before I left for Spain. I had resisted meditation for years. In Spain, and aimless, I needed something to drag me out of the mud… So I gave it a go. Multiple goes.
On my third attempt, I kept at it for 10 mins before my body started to feel like an engine, the breathing was becoming its own animal and I could feel a relentless, purring, driving, vibration. My breathing became a soothing sound. It felt unusual, and I felt lifted outside of myself. It’s what i needed. It felt good. I feared it wouldn’t last so I held on.
Breathe in for 4 seconds
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Breathe out for 4 seconds
Hold
And then it was done.
…
When I got back, me and Sarb got working on Chasing Dragons and Bomb for months. It was nice to work on something without any pressure. No pressure to write or wear the costume of a singer in a band. We took our time, and we enjoyed the process.
Sarb had written songs, the arrangement was mostly there. We could take our time. Fucking hell, we took our time.
We learnt about how to record and I learnt about how to mix. I was learning about frequencies, and compression and panning and reading about how George Martin mixed the Beatles. We listened to Radiohead and analysed the crap out of it.
Then one morning, I woke up and the first line and that melody must have dreamt about me. It was just alive in the room. I wrestled with my guitar and leaned in on the alternative tuning I found the guitar in – remnants from the song I was trying to learn the night before.
I can’t tell you what Woven is about. I know what it looks like it’s about. It’s not what it looks like.
After not putting pen to paper for months, maybe over a year… the words weren’t getting on to the page fast enough and all sorts of colours and movement found their way there to influence the song.
I had figured the song was finished. But then I heard the phrase ‘pregnant pause’ on an advert on a late night/early morning radio talk show during an episode of insomnia whilst seeking Sinatra and smoking out the window.
The song left me feeling naked. So I clothed it with layers of vocals.
Sarb heard it the next day and on hearing it on the Zoom 8 track said ‘I can’t add anything to this, it’s done’. But add to it he did.
First came the bass. An ever evolving, relentless groove that added that swagger that Sarb brings so effortlessly. His guitar licks, harmonised with the vocals. And Sarb, our drummer, said we didn’t need drums on this. He was at a loss. I was at a loss.
And then there was silence.
Breathe in for 4 seconds
Hold
Breathe out for 4 seconds
Hold
And then it was done.
You can listen to Woven on Spotify now.
