I’ll try to be brief otherwise I’ll write too much and perhaps dilute what I need to say.
Which is.
From the first rehearsals prior to recording Dry and High, to the last sessions at Viva Recorders making Jetgirl and The Boy in the Doorway, I believed that Hightown Pirates, in whatever form it took, had songs big enough and beautiful enough to make some sort of impact, by which I mean generate an audience beyond family and friends.
I believed that the songs would carry whoever was on stage under the HP flag, to venues large enough to allow the band to continue as a financially self-sufficient collective.
There were no fortunes to be made of course, that’s not what happens after a certain age, but I genuinely believed Hightown Pirates would play at Brixton Academy one day.
I believed the second album, in all its ragged glory, made entirely by musicians in recovery in a studio owned by people in recovery, would catch the attention of that particular tribe and that perhaps, the story would lead people back to the songs and that the songs would then capture their hearts.
I believed in ‘it’ like I’d never believed in anything else before.
I was wrong.
I was wrong about a few things that probably are not important now and yes, I would do things a bit differently if I had the time again. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but true passion can be as blinding as it can be intoxicating and therefore for those left feeling disgruntled, I can only apologize.
There are 26 songs available either on vinyl or streaming services that I am immensely proud of, some I think are truly remarkable and none of which would exist without huge contributions from other musicians. There are currently another 20 or so, still to be recorded but I don’t think there will be any more as far as Hightown Pirates goes anyway.
There will be something else, soon, I hope.
I want to thank everyone else who believed, everyone who did make it to the handful of gigs we managed to get together, everyone who paid for the vinyl, t-shirts, badges, stickers, created art, supported the crowdfunding, donated money to make recording possible, shared the music with their friends and shouted about the songs. The hustle is endless, unrelenting, and ultimately not for the faint hearted. There have been a handful of people who have been involved with all that almost since day one. You know who you are, you have very little but have given immensely, thus it ever was.
“Without people, you are nothing.” Joe Strummer.
Despite my very best efforts, and hardly a day passing over the past 5/6 years when I did not in some way attempt to support the cause’, it eventually became impossible, for me to keep believing. It just started to hurt too much, the constant rejection, the lack of opportunities, the contempt prior to investigation, the financial black hole £50,000 deep that I cannot climb out of.
Logistics, kids, jobs, Covid and of course the fact that in life we don’t get what we ‘deserve’ we just get what we get, have finally combined to bring this particular voyage to an end.
Thank you for being part of it if you were, and if you weren’t? Maybe next time, eh?
And what does ‘next time’ look like?
Well, I had an idea recently, possibly one of my most ridiculous, definitely one of my most audacious and certainly one of my most exciting.
As previously mentioned, I’ve always wanted to play a gig at Brixton Academy.
I’m sure a lot of musicians also do and obviously those with a modicum of success actually get to do so.
You don’t need to be particularly talented to have success, that’s not how it works.
It’s never been exclusively about ‘talent’ although having a bit of it might be useful.
What you really need is the ability to convince other people that you have talent, or indeed that the ‘work’ you offer up is deserving of their time, energy, and money when it comes down to performing the ‘work’ and asking people to pay for the privilege of experiencing that.
You also need some luck, it’s helpful if you’re young and beautiful and willing to do almost anything that is asked of you by the folks that stand to make the most financial gain from that willingness to do so.
They’ll still be counting their money when your gravy-train has come off the rails and you’re reduced to being on some Z-list celebrity television show etc.
If you’re lucky you might end up teaching at one of those awful ‘Brit-school’ things, the kinda environment that has made music by people like Ed Sheeran more popular than McDonalds.
McDonalds is obviously for people who don’t like ‘real’ food, and sedates the appetite of millions every day, in much the same was as Ed, ‘satisfies’ 3.5 billion people on Spotify etc.
Not that I’m bitter obvs.
He sold out Wembley, 3 nights in a row, just him and a guitar and his beatbox thingy and his talent.
That’s Wembley STADIUM btw, not The Wembley Tavern.
Look, I fucking despise that kind of wallpaper muzac but clearly millions and millions and millionzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
of other people ‘like’ it.
Millionzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Anyway, Brixton Academy.
So, here’s the plan.
I’ve got a new crew of musicians together, all of whom are based in Margate, which means we can actually hang out together, share ideas and rehearse stuff.
That’s useful and not a situation I’ve been in for a long time.
‘We’ might call ourselves Death Vally Yacht Club
Or Death Valley Job Club
Or Wilderness Hill
Or Hightown Pirates.
The thing is, we all met up for the first time a couple of days ago and I asked them if they thought that between us, over the next two years, we could convince 4921 people to buy a ticket to Brixton Academy to see whatever it is we’ve decided to call ourselves, play a gig.
They did.
At least they applauded the audacity of the idea and are willing to buy into it.
None of them were drunk or otherwise adulterated, none were completely sober either, aside from myself, Sunny Mark, and Sophie.
I’ve done the ‘sober’ album. It’s called All of the Above and you can buy it on Vinyl or Bandcamp and help us out or stream it on Spotify and make a billionaire a bit wealthier.
Choices, it’s all about choices people.
Let’s move on.
This is going to be something different.
Now, let’s not forget that I tried to put a tour together last autumn with Hightown Pirates and couldn’t sell 100 tickets, which was one of the various final nails in that particular coffin.
And also.
Any song released under that name has struggled to get more than a couple of thousand streams.
In nearly six years of constant hustling, rarely missing a day from that particular task, despite brilliant reviews written in well-respected publications, for ridiculously joyous and uplifting music, nobody bar a few clued-up Scousers and a handful of others, spread out over the UK, gave much of a fuck.
By which I mean, unlike my mate Ed Sheeran, nobody knew the songs actually existed.
Either that, or the song writing isn’t as great as I consider it to be.
I think you’ll find the first of those two sentences is correct by the fucking way. (In case you didn’t notice already, I don’t believe in false modesty)
Trying to get people to listen however, has proven impossible.
Facebook etc. HATE me because I won’t spend money with them.
They HATE me more than I hate the kinda music that can fill Wembley fucking stadium for three nights, and by the fucking way, I also have no time for other artists who can/could/do fill that stadium, like the Foo Fucking Fighters, Muse, Coldplay and Liam Fucking Gallagher either, so I don’t just reserve my contempt for ‘modern’ shit music. I’m sure they’re all really nice people, Dave Gruel is a legendary nice person and LG, despite now having a voice more annoying than a Yacht full of Priti Patels, and not having offered up a decent song this millennium, is probably quite fun to go jogging with.
So, me posting links on Facebook to my songs, is a complete waste of time.
Spotify can fuck off too.
Imagine the hysteria last night when Spotify crashed for a few hours, as MILLIONS of people tried to stream Shape of You while they were reading the Daily Mail, arranging some flowers, drinking cheap wine secretly at home alone and desperately trying to hide the fact they’re possibly a borderline alcoholic or, pretending to give a fuck about Ukraine etc.
Millionzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Anyway.
So, after I’d relayed my idea to those beautiful people who’s inquisitive nature had persuaded them to join us at Bar Nothing on a cold Monday night in March, here in Margate, there was a collective show of hands to see who was or wasn’t ‘in’ on the caper.
There was also a quick show of hands after that to see who had a ‘proper’ job and therefore what days would be best to try to get a rehearsal together.
This is when I had a ‘moment’ that strongly suggested this crazy idea might work.
Everybody was ‘in’ on the idea, and nobody has a ‘proper’ job.
We’re all cut from a similar shabby cloth of devotional creativity that thus far, has perhaps not been woven into our own
multi-coloured Dryrobe of dreams.
Not yet anyway.
We have time though, like I just said, we’re all currently metaphorically in the Margate Dole Office.
Sort of.
We have some songs that are new, some that are older than that but have thus far never been played onstage.
We have all experienced creative rejection as well as success.
We are, (possibly) Death Valley Yacht Club.
Are you?
We’ve got some great merch coming soon too.
Defo - When's Brixton preorder?
BYOS….⭐️💥✊🏼