Long time no see...
I suppose you'll be wondering "Just where have you been!?", "What have you been doing!?" & "Why do people keep on comparing you to *insert fascist dictator here*!?".
The answers are simple, yet the destination isn't important (or so I've been told). The adventure itself is too long and tenuously set to supply you with the desired finished product. But, I will try my hardest to deliver. Having spent the weekend camping in the rain with four other negatively charged writers, I'm feeling somewhat inspired.
Here goes.
Last year, along with a small group of friends & associates, I set about planning the final stages of a project that had taken me nearly a decade to realise. The basic idea was to create a fair & independent career step for musical artists, away from the cabaret & function band markets. Truth be told, not a thing exists nor is likely to exist in my lifetime. As I see it, you can be a poor workless artist, full of integrity & passion. Or, you can be a tired-out pop-star with a long line of credit & a lot of sins to answer for.
I can hear the argument now; "But what about the underground music scene?". Well, unfortunately, having worked there a while I can tell you straight, it's called the underground for a reason. It's cramped and it's noisy. Unless you get on a mad hype with a strong network to boot, you're pissing in the wind.
Which brings me neatly back.
The one thing I have always lacked is the network. The impenetrable web of contacts & correspondents to link me up to the what's & when's. The final stages of planning were to create a network of contacts within our local area as well as creating a public face for promotion & profiteering. Simple, right?
Wrong.
Long story short, in true historical fashion, a separatist group emerged within the network. After only six months of meetings, I found myself being lined-up for exile or worse. So, some time around May, I sacked off the traitors & switched up the plan. Snatching the company branding as I dived onto my dozing steed. Or something like that...
My reputation is still very much in recovery.
Lesson learned.
In June I joined forces with the Poet Tree Alliance, helping them plan their own projects, all the while keeping an eye out for rebel forces. They invited me to help them with a festival in Runnymede which seemed like a great idea at the time. Little did I know I'd be spending three days guarding speakers from hippies while surrounded by armed police.
During the three days I met some incredible people who had been living entirely independently from society for almost five years. Minus a bit of skip diving of course. They had free, clean running water, electricity & even toilets (the compost kind). Most of all, they were extremely positive about the whole thing. You'd expect seeing four winters with nothing but a few bits of re-purposed wood to keep you warm would wind you up a bit. Apparently it didn't.
On the Saturday night, I took over the running of the main stage along with the PTA, seeing as the organisers had scampered away at the first sign of ravers. The timings were all over the place and the sound was atrocious but a good time was had by all. Especially the acts themselves who all appeared to have taken one thing or another. One such highlight was a comedy threesome, two of which were on LSD & the other on shrooms. How's that for dynamics?
On the Sunday, without a wink, we tore it all down. We packed it all up. We negotiated our release with the police and we were off. There was a weird feeling amongst the group when we said our goodbyes. Almost defeated. Almost.
When I first arrived in Runnymede I declared it "Heaven on Earth". At first its humanity is overwhelming & awesome. Its ability to exist & thrive in the way it does seems nothing short of a miracle. After a couple days of starting again I got the point and I saw the cracks. When the glaze wore off I realised that what I saw wasn't a miracle, it was an opportunity. The people of Runnymede have a long way to go and a hell of a challenge. To start the world again in the image of community & sharing is not a popular thought in the eyes of politicians but on the 800th anniversary of the Magna Carta, the law decreed Runnymede free to try. I'll be back again to visit soon. I'm hoping for a Waitrose BLT when I get there.
Even if it is only one day out-of-date.
Later in the month I headed out to Budapest, fleeting slightly to Bratislava somewhere in the middle. Taking in the sights & doing the done things was mostly on the agenda, aside from getting away from the nanny-state for a stint. We saw many things including one of the only Catholic churches to not have Jesus Christ at the alter (they'd opted for Saint Steven instead. Apparently they really like him there. Not that they don't like Jesus, he's all over the place. Its just that Steven is a really cool guy, you know?).
On top of the usual, we took a free walking tour of both towns, escaping our tour of Budapest because of rain & too many silly questions unanswered. We followed through with our tour of Bratislava and were treated to the location of a bar crawl later in the evening. After a quick bite to eat with a few other likely sorts we'd picked up a long the way, we argued bitterly about which direction the bar was in. I was so sure I was right. We drank, we danced & we somehow got back to our apartment in one piece.
By the time we got back to Budapest, I was adamant that I would play a gig while on the continent, having turned down a 2am slot at the local Irish pub a few nights before. Unfortunately, unless you're a huge La Roux fan, it's pretty hard to find the local music scene in Budapest. A bit like Milton Keynes. So, we opted for karaoke at a Janis Joplin themed pub instead, where I was coaxed into singing a song from The Little Mermaid OST.
On our last night we toyed with the idea of making our way out of town to an enormous cruise ship, converted into a plethora of nightclubs. After six hours of procrastinating and a quick visit to the famous baths, we made ourselves content that we wouldn't go. Instead, we headed deep into town to a place that people had been nagging us to see since we arrived. Not literally nagging but it helps with the story. So, after giving up on the cruise ship, we made our way to Szimpla.
In Hungary there's no pesky health & safety surrounding the laws on what you can do with a building. After World War Two, many of the constructs in Budapest were left to rot, only to be taken on by hostels & bars. If Szimpla was anything to go on, repairs & maintenance were low on the agenda. Unlike having a good time.
After a few drinks I happened upon a space in the vast cavernous venue with a stage. More than that, on the stage was a band. So, in I popped to have a listen. The band played out and everyone clapped and I found myself having a word with the singer. "Oh, no." he said. "It's not our gig. It's an open stage. Anyone can play!". "Right!" I said. "I'll do that."
Through some course of logistical drunkenness I stumbled onto the stage at Szimpla & did my best to entertain the crowd for a whole hour. We sang, we talked, we danced & fell over (a couple of times); the stage manager blocking my exit every time I made for the finale. He even threw me up for another one after I came back to collect my capo a couple of hours later, even more drunk. The band didn't seemed to mind or struggle too much to keep up with my astounding sense of rhythm. It was hilarious.
Other than that, I've been planning, painting & procrastinating as usual. Although I did differ from the norm & threw a Donald Trump(esque) beauty pageant at Properflop last week.
I think I might be losing my mind.
Have you seen it?
