Hello World! (Go fuck yourself Wordpress)
“We really ought to get some gigs”.
Naturally as the four of us discussed the nature of securing live gigs to share the music we work so hard on, we decided to start a blog, in yet another creative endeavour that will have little to no bearing on our success as a band.
So, here we are, embarking on our latest outlet of creativity that serves as a fantastic reminder as to what we can do when we put our minds to it. Unless the task includes sending emails out to venues and promoters.
But, while gigs are still few and far between, spirits are relatively high. Our first album is coming along nicely and expected to release this Autumn, musical productivity is running at full capacity and individually we have all found ways to make a living that aren’t totally soul destroying. Well, except Tiago, but he’ll live.
In more important news, an Orca pod operating off the coasts of Gibraltar and Portugal have been attacking boats since 2020, with more than 20 incidents occurring in 2025 alone. We can only hope they hunt us for our meat and not for sport. Since hearing of the news I’ve been plagued with visions of my untimely death.
Orca’s find me in every dream I have, perverting the brief moments of sleep I am able to steal as they threaten to topple me off whatever structure I find myself atop of.
Skyscrapers, trees, monasteries, my flat, on stage, Thatcher’s grave. They are relentless in their stalking of prey. There’s no doubt about it and I fear my time is short. I sense them waiting at the end of every street corner, standing prostrate behind streetlights or disguised as my dad when I visit him to discuss famous people who go by ‘Jimmy’.
In these dreams they never kill me, they just nip off what they can without me bleeding out. You’d think they’d have less precision with their gaping maws that cackle indiscriminately as they hunt, but they can strip appendages with unairing accuracy, often closing off the wound, mocking me with laughter as they tourniquet my flailing nubs.
They improv on the spot a House M.D style roleplay, pretending they’re stemming the bleeding in a desperate attempt to keep me alive, only to rip me from their captivating performance, shattering my suspension of disbelief by stripping the flesh from my left leg.
I'm not permitted a single moment of engagement with the media, as the very instance I become lost in the work I'm so involved in, they pull me back to my reality as merely an unwilling spectator. The very apotheosis of Brechtian theatre. Clearly a talented pod, held back commercially by their commitment to abstract expressionism.
The four of us really feel we’re developing a genuinely unique sound as a band, which is a pretty nice feeling. I think we all feel our respective influences are being honoured without them clashing, and for me the upcoming album gives a really well balanced example of what we aim to embody musically. So do look out for a post on our Instagram about it (or here if you wound up on the blog before the ‘gram’).