TomBlog - Tuesday
Tuesday, that most pointless of all days. The beige day. Neither here nor there. Apologies if you have some emotional attachment to the aforementioned day, but, as days go, it really isn't much of one.
Here we are, on the verge of our album coming out and I can feel the calm before the inevitable. I'm all aflutter with trepidation and mixed metaphors. It's always a funny one, this putting out an album palaver. It doesn't happen enough for you ever to remember what it felt like the last time, but you're soon reminded. The sleepless nights, the butterflies, the flurry of colourful expectations, good and bad. You feel like you should be able to do something, but, besides the interviews and occasional appearances, there's not much except for hit and hope. Watch your baby whistle through the air into an unforgiving outfield.
A call to arms might be in order. I suppose in a way that's what an album is. A moment where, as a band, we're forced to stop, regroup, focus and attack!!!! I'm now imagining us in loin cloths, covered in woad, running down a scottish glen, carrying long spears....no that's no good.... carrying guitars with bayonets attached. A whole army of gomites, the mezopotamians charging into battle.....but then, perhaps, let's wait til wednesday.
don't just gomez...stay mez
tommy x
Here we are, on the verge of our album coming out and I can feel the calm before the inevitable. I'm all aflutter with trepidation and mixed metaphors. It's always a funny one, this putting out an album palaver. It doesn't happen enough for you ever to remember what it felt like the last time, but you're soon reminded. The sleepless nights, the butterflies, the flurry of colourful expectations, good and bad. You feel like you should be able to do something, but, besides the interviews and occasional appearances, there's not much except for hit and hope. Watch your baby whistle through the air into an unforgiving outfield.
A call to arms might be in order. I suppose in a way that's what an album is. A moment where, as a band, we're forced to stop, regroup, focus and attack!!!! I'm now imagining us in loin cloths, covered in woad, running down a scottish glen, carrying long spears....no that's no good.... carrying guitars with bayonets attached. A whole army of gomites, the mezopotamians charging into battle.....but then, perhaps, let's wait til wednesday.
don't just gomez...stay mez
tommy x
posted by Gomez at 8:57 AM
9 Comments:
Your poor little bunny, you are in a state! Have a cup of tea and write down ten things you love about what you've done, that cannot change, no matter what happens. (If I were you, I'd start with the line, "Her body makes an S, today they made a C." I like that one.) Then affix a bayonet to your guitar and run round the house in a teatowel, shouting.
PS Vegemite makes a good substitute for woad.
PPS Everything will be fine.
F*ck yeah.
You have an army of Mezopotamians behind you, brandishing sharp percussive instruments, by the way.
Breathe deep. Albums are like children. Just tell it that it is loved, and everything will turn out fine. Trust me.
Hugs from Australia, x
I'd hate to hear what you have to say about Thursdays.
I got a new weekly tram ticket this morning, and it runs out on MAY 2. Made me smile : )
PS Now I'm listening to it and hearing 'scene' and not 'C'... Odd.
^ Weird, I was thinking he should write childrens books just a few hours ago. Something to do with how succinct and painfully articulate he is, without being irritatingly orotund. Though, I'd put money on him already having thought of doing that ; )
Tom, thanks for the dreams of flying pictures. I took some of my daughter "swimming" on the living room floor the other evening. Maybe this will cheer you up:
http://www.sfgate.com/columnists/carroll/mondegreens.shtml
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Thank you. I have it. I love it. I love you, all, for bestowing us with it.
Hamoa Beach may just change my life.
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