So Canada we would like to thank you. You treated us wonderfully and we look forward to returning soon. We met a lot of great people, had the most amazing audiences and had a lot of fun along the way. This is the current view we have as we fly home…

Check some of the pictures taken by Charlie and follow him on Twitter for his tour diary. And if you liked what you heard, Canadian fans can get the album here.

All the best – Team CW

I have that Sunday feeling.

It’s almost 4pm and I’m still wondering around my room with the bath robe provided by the hotel. I have been for the last three hours actually, just sitting in different spots in the room, thinking about whatever comes to me. The Canadian sun is like a new born baby, crying it’s rays off the caked snow. I lie on the couch and blind myself, letting my mind meander. I don’t often get the opportunity for that kind of day dreaming so much these days, but when I do I snatch it up. I remember the days back in London, for five years I rented a crappy apartment above a shoe shop in Shoreditch from an English lady living in New York (and never put the rent up from £200 per month) and I’d spend entire afternoons happily dreaming to myself, while playing drums on my chest. The little flat was on a tiny street called Yorkton Street, so I called it ‘Yorkton Palace’. There were three of us in the apartment, although I was the only one to stay as long as 5 years, until the landlady decided to sell and kicked me out. I had people coming coming around all the time. I drank a lot of tea and spent a lot of time organising things (gigs and theatre projects) from the wired phone on the kitchen table. The lounge was the biggest room and there was often somebody/bodies sleeping on the mattress and anything else which was soft.

After a year of living in that apartment, we found a drawer at the bottom of the enormous old cupboard, which was full of junk and inside the drawer, there were about 250 pictures of tourists posing with the Madame Tussauds wax work of Arnold Schwarzenegger. So, I decided to cover all the walls of the living room with the pictures and have an Arnie party! I remember the guests being quite alarmed, not to mention, intrigued by the unusual soirée. We liked the pictures so much, however, that we chose to leave them all up on the walls. I use the word ‘chose’ lightly, as it was probably more out of laziness that we didn’t bother to remover them. During the following summer months, pic by pic, they fell to the floor and gradually got destroyed, which is a shame – I would have liked to keep them as a memento of my obscure days in Yorkton Palace. In my second, or third year there, I had a Henry living with me who was my teenage next door neighbour and played in Baxter, the keyboards in band I had with my brother. Henry was good at handy man jobs and taught me how to build things like shelves, most importantly. This was a big revelation for me, having been living with so much stuff all over the place (don’t ask what), finally I could create new spaces to put them. I became quite the do-it-yourself handy man and made our shit hole into a home, constantly tidying up after everyone’s mess and trying to kick the asses of my house mates to do there bit as good, honest citizens, usually to no avail. I did a lot of cooking in that house too. Most of my time was spent in the kitchen in fact. I used to have little dinner parties and invite people that didn’t know each other, including me. Sometimes, I’d invite people, having only just met them. Age wasn’t important. In fact, the more dramatic the age differences were around the table, the more interesting it often was. It played host, getting the conversations started and once people relaxed and open up I’d just keeping serving the food. Much like playing a concert, I suppose.

I remember one old guy that I loved. I’m struggling to remember his name but he was an inspirational old American in his mid to late seventies, still riding a bike around London and always doing something, or going somewhere. He carried pieces of paper around with him of exhibitions, or films that he wanted to see. I met him because for a year and a half I worked as a ticket usher in the Prince Charles Cinema – possibly the quirkiest and cheapest cinema in the heart of London, playing a mixture of art house, European and Hollywood blockbusters (fortunately, at that time it was less Hollywood). It’s most famous for doing weekly Friday night showings of ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ and Sunday matinées of ‘The Sing-Along Sound Of Music’. I must have watched that film about 75 times – I can still say it’s an incredible movie though.

I loved that job. It was in that job that I discovered so much great cinema that I had never previously been exposed to like Ingmar Bergman, Lars von Trier, Wong Ka-wai, Wim Wenders, Nanni Moretti, Jim Jarmesch, Alexander Sokurov, David Lynch – he even came and did a Question & Answer with the people who’d just watched his new film ‘Lost Highway’. A lot of interesting and unusual characters came to see movies at the Prince Charles. I’d regularly get into beard-stroking chin wags with the clientele about the director’s vision. ‘Hmm.. yes… interesting… hmm’. It was often dangerous getting caught in conversation with that type film goer, but occasionally stimulating too; not every scholar is a geek and I can’t decided which I prefer.

Jim.

That was his name… the old American dude on the bicycle. So, that’s where I met Jim. I wonder what he’s doing now. Something tells me he’s still up and at it. There was no getting rid of him in a flash. Such a great guy, he was. He had that second world war American way to be friendly, always hitting me on the arm and saying things like ‘Good on ya Chuck!’. Once, we were having one of our usual chats and I said something that made him burst out laughing, swinging his arm up and smacking me hard in the left ear. Man, did that hurt and left it ringing for the rest of the day, but the whole thing made me laugh and, subsequently, I never forgot it, or him.

That’s enough nostalgia for one blog entry I think.

Back to present day.

The last two gigs in Montreal were our best so far. I mean, at this point, being early days that it is, we can only get better and better. The audiences went insane. Not just for us but also Current Swell, who have been doing an incredible job of warming them up for us (I love that band – great band and really great dudes – every one).  I don’t know what drug it is in the local water but lets just say that the public are not backward in coming forward. Or, perhaps it’s too much fresh winter air. Oxygen makes you high after all, that’s why they give it to us on plane gas masks, according to Tyler Durden. After a killer 2nd show last night, we all went to a great club called JelloBar (I think that’s the spelling). I’d been there once before in November and both times there was a live band with top class musicians playing all the classics, ranging in style. I think it was last year that it was taken over by the drummer who played with me on the Canadian TV show Belle et Bum, which explains a lot; he’s a very cool guy and great musician too. Rarely, have I been into a club on a Saturday night which, not only has a great live band to whom everyone is dancing and singing to, but the mixture of black and white people is completely equal. There was no feeling of separation between anyone, each smiling and chatting, or dancing with one another. In fact, I think it’s a Canadian thing; Although I’m sure there are places where it is more prevalent in Europe there’ still definitely a feeling of separation in the bars/clubs themselves. Here, the mix seems to be a lot more casual.

However, I’m not talking so much about the relationship between English and French speaking Canadians. I’m quite aware there is a long standing friction going on between Quebec (wanting to be it’s own country) and the rest of Canada, although I am told it’s a lot less these days, compared to 15 years ago, when there was a referendum, concluding with Quebec continuing to remain under Canadian government at a close loss of 49.5 votes. My own little personal theory of why the feeling for Quebec to be separated today is less, (as I am told – I make no claim to have any political voice of authority on this) is because of the internet. I know it sounds cliché to blame the web for any shift in consciousness but it plays a part, I’m sure of it. The fact is, when kids go online, whatever language they speak, in order to surf the web they constantly have to switch from their native tongue into English. But more than that, the majority of the the entertainment industry is focused in English, and the most likely thing for someone to do on the internet to is watch, hear or learn about any of their favourite icons and idols. Subsequently, they’ll find themselves watching interviews or reading Twitter/Facebook posts in predominantly English. Let’s take me as an example. I mean, I wonder what the first language is of most people who read this.

My record is distributed by the same Canadian record label as Lana Del Ray, so this week I was given a copy of her album to listen. While writing some of this blog I had it playing in the background… For those of you who are sick of anything reminiscent of the 80′s, well, the 90′s is well and truly back. It’s kinda like listening to a funky Enya, with the same intoxicating, little girl, jilted heartbreak lyrical content as Amy Winehouse. Both singers sold boat loads of albums world wide so I’m sure she’ll be alright, despite the media who are loving to hate her at the moment. I have to say though, the lyrics are not bad and she has written some good melodies which will be her strongest asset (one song has already stuck in my head, since a quick listen 2 days ago). Clearly, the main thing holding her back are the stage performances which did her no favours on Saturday Night Live, in particularly. Who knows, these days? It’ll be interesting to see what people really care about. I met her on Taratata as we waved goodbye to camera. She seemed like a nice enough girl. I asked her how her appearance went. She told me, “horrible, I hate these things”. I asked if she thought she was in the right profession, to which she answered, “I’m still trying to work that out”. Let’s hope she does before the world eats her alive.

In the meantime, I’m gonna read my book.

Gotta get up at 6am for a TV show.

Winston

So far the tour is good. Great in fact! I’m so happy to back on the road with the band and working the music. It does feel like early days so far, in terms of the life of this album on stage, but we’re all enjoying having new music to play and the audiences seems ecstatic so far.

Honestly speaking, it was a little rocky at the start of this tour for me. The night before I left for Canada, I sang ‘My Way’ in Sex Pistols style (already a contradiction). As much as I enjoyed attempting to wear the shoes of Sid Vicious (“I’m not vicious really. I consider myself to be kindhearted. I love my mum”) I woke up on Friday to get the plane to Toronto without a voice. Perfect; 8 hours of harsh air conditioning 30,000 high in a big metal tube and I forgot to wear a scarf when I fell asleep, so I arrived with really bad neck pains – all connected to the vocal area. Great way to start a tour. But if there’s anything that I have learnt about the voice it’s that worrying only makes it worse. It’s incredible how closely linked the voice is to the mind and the mind being so powerful; more than we give credit to.

So when I arrived at the hotel, I did all I could to chill, which is quite easy in Canada, when it’s minus 20 degrees, but also when you have one night in the luxury suit of the Germain Hotel. I take luxuries like this not for granted and with a pinch of salt as it’s not what I live for. After all, there is no luxury without love. That said, I certainly appreciated the enormous bath tub. I’m quite a tall fella and there are few bath tubs that I can lie in and be submersed by the water. I recently bought an album by Jono McCleery, There Is , which I put on during my soak and that was good medicine. I love the album and it has features with two artists I also like a lot: Fink – I became obsessed with his record ‘A Sort Of Revolution’ when I had a herniated vertebrae in my neck for two months, in November 2010. And Vashti Bunyan, whom my sister is named after and my parents were friends with and played some gigs with back in the 60′s. After that, I ordered food to the room, followed by a massage, for which I played a musician who’s music relaxes and inspires me more than anything: an indian flutist named Hariprasad Chaurasia playing traditional Indian Raga. The recording I am fixed on currently is the rag Bhimplasi (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oU4Jr5H7uA8). It is a rag that is most associated and supposed to be played in the hot Indian afternoons. Unfortunately, I couldn’t order that to my room. The Germain is good, but not that good. Nonetheless, the massage helped and I slept like a demon with angels watching over me.

In the morning I had a Skype call with my saviour voice coach, James, who, frankly, can work bloody miracles; he hears all the mechanics of the voice, what’s working and what’s not. We met twice online that day and within 7 hours he brought my voice back from 10% to 70%. For me, I was taking a big chance by doing the gig – every note on the edge of epilepsy. But the show must go on! I figured that when people come to see me/us play they come because we’ve made the effort to be there in real life, and all that investment in energy on our part and their part is what makes live concerts so special. As an artist, it’s deceptively easy to put high expectations on oneself without realising. I’m learning to use what I have and do the best I can. I think Winston Churchill summed it up when he said,

“How little we should worry about anything except doing our best.”

He may have been a drunk but he had some good quotes.

Consequently, I did the show and, as much as it was a rocky mountain to climb, I certainly broke on through to the other side. It was a good test; to see what the body is really capable of when you just trust it. The next day (Sunday) I spoke again to James and he declared just how concerned he really was for me doing the show, playing my record in his car during my stage time for good will. He said he was really impressed with me for going for it and said there are few people he teaches who could pull it off like I did. It means a lot to hear those things understands my voice because at the time I was not measuring myself against anyone. I just had to do it.

Sunday night, we played in Sherbrooke at the Granada – what beautiful old venue that was. Vocally, it was still a challenge but less so this time. I had definitely crossed the most treacherous terrain. That day I misread my tour schedule and thought we had a day off on Monday (yesterday) and after the show we were all invited to a nearby bar, where we stayed until 5am, drinking, talking and laughing with folk who watched the show as well as the other band supporting us on this tour, called Current Swell. (Subsequently, they are really good guys with a similar outlook on life, and they’ve been doing a great job warming up the crowd each night. I haven’t seen their entire set yet but it’s sounding great from back stage). Our night in the bar felt much like Alice In Wonderland, with several of us ending up down the rabbit hole, but my god we had some funny moments. My favourite was walking back to the bus and tackling my tour manager, Cez, to the white ground, filling his hair with snow. It was like being 7 years old again, laughing our heads off. And don’t worry, he got his own back.

And so it was, at 2pm the following afternoon (yesterday), having arrived in Chicouimi, I had Cez waking me to say that I had interviews (one on TV) in on hour before my sound check started!! So up I got, away we went and you know what? I felt pretty good for most of the day, with a few rocky patches – nothing a little cat nap before the gig couldn’t cure. The good thing was all the band were in the same boat, some worse than others, but all with the good attitude of “right! Back to work lads!”. My voice was in better shape yet again and I couldn’t be readier to play another gig. It went well. Very well. And last night we all slept like babies. Today is the day off. I’ve chosen to make it a day of silence. It’s something worth doing every now and then but especially now. As much as I am enjoying my voice with these huskier tones, it’s not at full capacity yet, making me feel a little restrained dying the shows. Ironically though, my band tell me that they prefer my voice like that because I let the music do the talking. There’s something I be said for it I guess. I suppose that’s the lesson to learn: I put a lot of energy into writing my compositions, so sometimes it’s better I shut up and let them do the talking.

And on that note, I think I’ve probably said quite enough for one morning. I enjoyed writing this blog. I’m sure my mum will read it and worry about me looking after myself. Don’t worry mum. Everything’s in great shape. I gotto live my life fully, albeit, with a little bit o’ balance and be happy: the cure to most maladies.

“Everything in moderation, even moderation”.

I don’t remember who said that.

Perhaps it was me.

Unkle Chunkle

What do you think?

Watch this video on YouTube.

Before I go on any further about my own thoughts and meanderings, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has been here for my return, as well as any new people who have only just come to discover my music. Its been a great thing to be able make a new a record and have so many people receiving it with so much interest. I don’t take it for granted, and hope I never will, that you people are there to have this dialogue with me. I say dialogue because, although I write my music primarily for me, I consider that as long there is people listening, it is’nt just one way. That’s exactly what I am talking about in ‘The Great Conversation’; even though Beethoven no longer lives (and any great artist for that matter), when I play his music I feel as though he is talking to me and it stirs responses in me that make it feel I am in a conversation.

There is no book without the reader.

On another point…

Hello Alone seemed to be the most obvious and appropriate first single, but I was secretly hoping I could release ‘Where can I buy happiness’ around this time of year. It would have given me a good opportunity talk about my words in that song, which refer to the mad house, shopping rush of christmas.

So, seeing as I didn’t get that opportunity, I wanna talk about it now. You see, depending on what’s going on in someone’s  life around this time of year and who’s around, it can either be a fun celebration with the ones you love, or it can be the saddest and loneliest time of year. Unfortunately, I suspect the latter is in the majority. However, I think if there wasn’t such a big thing made about it everywhere we looked,  it might not be so sad and lonely for a lot of people. It seems that  Christmas has become such an enormous commercial venture that it is not possible to leave the house or turn on a TV without having the pressure of being a part of the circus parade. Don’t get me wrong – the circus is a beautiful spectacle… when you have a ticket and have been invited to the show.

My parents divorced when I was ten. Since then, Christmas has always been a bit tricky to organise. Some years have been easier, some harder. It really depends on what is happening in everyone’s lives at the time and who is present, depending on current girlfriends or boyfriends. And now, as we are getting older and starting to settle into our own lives each year, with new children being made, it’s changing the dynamic of the family. Especially because of the children. I think most people will agree that Christmas can be a lot of fun when there are kids around. It just puts that bit of magic into it that we all remember from our own childhood. And to see that wonder and excitement in their eyes. For me, it was really important to see kids this year. Not because I am feeling particularly broody, but more because children bring us out of the adult world, which I spend most my time in. And, more importantly, out of my own world of ambition and self importance. I mean, let’s face it, my nieces and god children couldn’t care less how many records I’ve sold, or if my album reviews are any good. They just care about having fun and if Santa will come.

Oh bugger!

I wanted to write more but my train is coming into London and I don’t know when I will have the chance to write again. So, I guess it’s time for me to wish you, whoever you are, a very merry christmas and happy new year, in all the true senses of the words. And if you know people who are alone this year and you have the space to let them into your world during Christmas or new year, let them in. What goes around comes around.

Jusqu’à la prochaine fois,
Mister Winston

The other guests? 
Jean-Jacques Milteau – a french harmonica player who put together a great mix of musicians and singers to create a very cool sound and a nice guy too and 
ASM (A State of Mind) – a hip hop group who collaborated with Wax Tailor on the record me and released the track Say Yes, which brought them good recognition in France. With the two rappers was their DJ and horn section. They have a very cool old school hip hop sound and put a lot of thought into what they want to say. 

I was in a cheeky mood on the show and took over some of the questions which Isabelle seemed to find amusing. The conversation was funny at times and went quite deep into subjects in other parts. Then I suggested the three of us have a little improvised jam around the table.  I left my guitar and just made a little beat box while Green T (ASM) rhymed and Jean-Jacques stock a solo.

At the end of the emission I played a mini concert with The Oxymorons (as I still like to call them).  I made a mess of the set list, missing out a song that I was supposed to play. However, we got the room pumping and all the audience down from their seats onto the floor and dancing. They even came onto to the stage with me at one point, which freaked everyone out that worked for the radio, not to mention the other bands who had their their equipment on stage. 
I soon used them back in front of the stage and the band played just fine. 

This show is going to be broadcast on France Inter this Saturday at 8 – 10pm. I think it’s a show worth listening to because there are not so many shows like this anymore. Jean-Jacques made a good point of this on the show, which I had to agree with; he congratulated Isabelle for staying firm with her vision of making good radio and inviting interesting artists to play and talk. I wish that with all the radio promotion that I make, there were more shows like this one. Don’t get me wrong, I have met some good journalists doing good shows and asking good questions, but they seem to be more and more rare, as the music world becomes progressively afraid of losing the interest of their listeners. 

It’s quite a strange time that we live in at the moment. There is just so much diversity in music these days and so many artists who are making some interesting moves but the general public are not being given the opportunity to discover them, unless they are willing devote their life to searching the internet.  So many radio stations are succumbing to the pressures of playing the tedious production line of mainstream (predominantly American and UK) artists, which the major record labels are pumping thousands of dollars into making sure that they are heard by everyone, everywhere, until they have no choice but to find some way to enjoy it. It’s like food: if all you have to eat are worms, you’re gonna have to find a way to enjoy eating them.  

That reminds me, I read an article last night about how words become official, and included into the dictionary. ‘Ear worm’ is currently a contender. Each year there is around 6,000 new words and phrases put on a list of around 4,000 which get chosen! A team of researchers spend each year searching newspapers, magazines, online blogs, TV and film, etc., to monitor how much new words find their way into modern dialect. I find it fascinating, the way language works. It’s like the subconscious collective art of modern culture. It never arrives at a perfect destination, but constantly moves and shifts with the trends and moods of each generation. 
I think we are approaching a particularly interesting period of language’s evolution with the coming generations, as it is starting to become so influenced by instant messaging, internet chatting, twitter, not to mention the false identities that people assume, which must have an effect on what they write, too. I cannot say I have any idea of how this ‘techno age’ will transform the way we communicate, but what’s more interesting is that the effects are happening on a global level, so the changes will come at the same time, with words being shared between countries. I suppose, like Latin ( and I’m a little sad to say this), English is going to, and already is, in fact, have a even greater injection of words into other languages. In France alone, I hear so many English words being spoken by youth culture and used for publicity everywhere to appear fresh. 

My train is arriving now. I have to stop talking. 

I think I’m gonna play a song in the station for whoever happens to be there. I’ll try to get a video of it up online for you who won’t be there. 

Until the next time!
Mr Winston

We look forward to seeing your faces in the crowd!

Also Charlie Winston will be playing this Saturday 3rd December at the Belle et Bum. Book your tickets first to see him for free by clicking here.

Team CW

Well, I just finished answering what felt like a million questions on facebook and there was one question that led me to talk about the strange creature, that is success. At the time, I had all sorts to say about that but now the feeling’s gone a little bit. I guess I should return to the question.

Oh yes! Maud was asking me what inspired me for the new album. Well, I’m not going to go into that now, because I answered the question there and I’m talking about it all week with journalists. However, in my answer, I went into explaining that in this record I was trying to express the extreme of emotions one feels when the dream of reaching out to people with one’s music is realised.

(Do you like my use of the word ‘one’? Few people really use the word ‘one’ like that anymore, because it sounds very archaic and posh, but I think that it’s a shame. Instead, we use the word ‘you’ to speak in the third party, but it can create confusion of who is being talked about. And if I use ‘one’ in the third party, it suggests I should be a professor at Oxford . I think this is a disappointing way in which the English language is changing colours. There are other disappointing developments, as there are many great new words and ways to speak which are invented. After all, that is what language does. It evolves. We have to evolve with it and I’m all for it. Except for when the simplification of the language stops ‘one’ from being able to express themselves as they wish to. This is the danger of modern technologies and their conveniences. No longer do we have to make an effort to express ourselves when there’s predictive texting! I have to make a big effort to pay attention to the spelling, when it corrects it for me, otherwise, I would never know what to do when I need to write by hand. That’s something I miss too. I never write lyrics with a computer. Always by pen. Black, if I have a choice; feel more like commitment. Writing lyrics by pen is the last bastion of hope that I have to not forgot the beauty of hand writing – not that mine is particularly beautiful.)

End of rant and very long parenthesis diversion. Although, I was enjoying talking about that, I must shimy back to the initial ting.

So, success. Yes. Well, I think I might need to talk about that another time. As you can see, the wind didn’t carry me quite like I had hoped. All I can say now is that it’s a funny old game and one can never be sure of who’s playing or what the rules are. I think, having been through it now and in hindsight, the most important rule for me is to try and stay as connected to the most inspiring vision of myself as possible. I know, it sounds like a very egocentric thing to say but, if I can stay connected to a vision of myself that inspires me, then everything else tends to fall into place, because it means I do the things that I want to do, which fall in line with the things I need to do to remain centered and cool with the world around. And when I can be cool with the world around me, I continue to treat people with respect, giving them time, rather than feeling as though I have to continue to prove something to them. When we don’t know ourselves, there’s a lot to prove, in order to keep up the lie that we do know.

The other day, after talking to a journalist about how my success had affected me, he picked me up on the fact that I had once said ‘success is an illusion’, suspecting that I might have changed my mind. I haven’t. It is an illusion when suggesting that it is a final destination that you arrive at and suddenly, all the questions are answered because you have “You’re new found success!!” In fact, it’s more like a continuation, a mile stone along a road that everyone else walks. Some people might find theirs paved with gold, but the heart’s still made of blood so it doesn’t mean you stop walking. A lot of people think the word, success, equals happiness. A lot of other people think the same word equals sadness. The irony of it is that when one does finally ‘find’ it, you get both. One thing lives and the same thing dies: the dream. You feel happiness and feel sadness. And, like when at your birthday party, everybody sings the your birthday song, you can’t help but have those mixed feelings. The experience forces you into the present, while having all the past and the future thrust in your face like a big cream pie. And  people will ask ‘how do you feel? It must be amazing!’ and the answer is ‘In fact, I don’t feel much at all’ and ‘I feel everything!’, but to say that would invite too much concern and spoil the party, so you say, ‘I feel great’. After the birthday party, you go home, climb into bed and try to remember everything that happened and all you can remember is how much everyone else appeared to be enjoying themselves. And you smile with a tear in the eye and say to yourself, ‘oh well… another new day tomorrow… I guess I’ll just carry on then’.

I think that’s probably enough rambling on that subject for one evening. I should probably have a little look for that tear and that smile and climb myself into bedlam where I can let all them dreams can run-a-muck.

Until tomorrow,

Mr Winkston (inspired by the expression ‘to take 40 winks’, meaning to sleep. Sponsored by the BFG)