A peek inside a busy brain forever turning things over and trying to find solutions to problems which might not even exist. Written after a conversation with my friend Mike Rawlins, so I dedicate it to him.
My first home lay on the north edge of town and it crops up frequently in my songs. The title is also a nod further northward towards Scotland where I live now. This is a jazz-infused swirl of images from my childhood and teenage years.
Explores the external and the internal; how people appear in public vs what might be going on behind the scenes.
A dark story hiding behind an upbeat tune. The contrast between things that play out on this side and that side of the door.
A very small song which is best viewed on a large screen.
In my dreams I often go back to the town where I grew up, to taste the sea air and recall the touch of the banister in the hallway of the house I left behind.
Looking at the gaps between things rather than the things themselves. The place I call Beekeeper's Corner was growing wild when I wrote this song, but since then, four new houses have appeared.
A blueprint for the way I’d like it to be.
The first Glasgow Songwriting Festival took place in Govanhill Baths. I found inspiration in the cubicle doors of the hot baths suite, beautiful in their dilapidated state and silently holding their history.
On a family holiday to St Abbs a few years ago, the ritual of stopping to open a farm gate, holding it to allow the car through, and closing it again, grew in significance by the day.
Loss is never straightforward, it is complicated and imperfect, just like we are.
The joy of walking through the woods, noticing things and being at peace.