TO WHERE I AM NOW

Day 1 of 366, at the beginning again. I had to think for a minute before I wrote 2024, it sounds so futuristic, but last year did as well. As soon as we got to 1984 (futuristic) and then 1999 (more futuristic) and eventually to 2001 (exceptionally futuristic), then everything became futuristic. But probably not if you were born in the 21st century. Having been born in the fifties all these future years were subjects of science fiction films, books, and TV series with flying saucers, aliens, mysterious obelisks, or frightening dystopian plots, now it’s just reality and whereas I feel like I’m living in the future, younger people just think it’s the present.

In the studio today for long hours with Olivia and Sarah, having said that it was a slow start because Liverpool were beating Newcastle 4-2. We ran through songs, worked on arrangements, and tried to figure out the best way to move forward into a creative new year. It’s almost as if you don’t have to figure out how to be creative, wonder if you are creative, you just have to remember to be creative, make it a priority, whether it’s writing a song or knitting a jumper. Talking of the past, do people still knit?

By 11 PM and after playing guitar all day, my thumbs were beginning to question how much longer they would have to continue. It wasn’t just that, I was tired and we’d heard earlier that our friend Aram, one-time keeper of the In Deep Music Archive in Penzance, had died. The greatest guy you could ever meet, so tragic and leaving behind his wife and his 9-year-old son Eladio. Aram’s father was Emilio Delgado who played Luis, the owner of the fix-it shop on Sesame Street who died last year after 45 years on the show. Aram and Jenne chose to come to Cornwall for its beauty and with a desire to escape London after America and bring up their child in a safer and less busy environment. I’d just randomly called him from Porto in early November, checking in to say Hi. That’s when he told me he was ill, and to think that in a few short weeks he has gone is a terrible shock to Olivia and I. RIP Aram, we miss you.

To support Jenne and Eladio in this difficult time, you can check out this GoFundMe fundraiser set up for them.

Our sorrow deepened as we were reminded that this wasn’t the only friend we have lost in recent times. If you didn’t know Bucks Burnett, our Texan buddy, you missed a treat, I knew him for so many years that I lost count. Our whole modern-day Texas experience is because of him. He was in The Volares (with Dare and our friend here, Paul Averitt). He ran a record store, 13 Records, and he was part of a crew that always supported us when we came through Texas along with Barley, Erika, and Mati (also gone). Seeing him out of Texas in England for The Volares’ recording was a strange sight, a unique character from another planet visiting one of the moons. He was friends to the stars, Pete Townshend sent him a gold record for naming the last Who album, and he had me present it to him last year. He introduced me to Jimmy Page and was Ronnie Lane’s butler. He worked with Tiny Tim and ran the Mister Ed fan club. Last time I was in Texas I bought a whole lot of records from him, I finally got that American Black Sabbath album with the different sequencing. He was an expert on music and Dallas misses him greatly, our crew here knew him well and nobody can quite believe he has gone. RIP Bucks.

Music today has been The Volares’ The Night We Taught Ourselves To Sing (1998). I can’t find the music online anywhere, come to the In Deep Music Archive, and I’ll play it for you.

Music Of The Daze