And so the year begins... as does my tour. 

I must say, it's the biggest start of a year that I have ever had, knowing that 40,000 people have tickets to see me play. Before the rehearsal began, I had just a tiny bit too much time to think about it and, after my neck injury, I was a bit anxious about getting back on stage, knowing how physical I can be when I'm up letting the energy sweep me up. However, as soon as I got into the rehearsal studio, all that useless fear vanished into the distance and my head was back in it, excited to be working with all the gang again and seeing the show come together. Having the string players join us (Oli Langford on violin and Danny Keane on Cello) is making a massive difference and lifting the entire sound. Plus, being old friends of mine from England, with whom I have had many tours, I am loving their input and reminiscing on a lot of funny memories and other people I haven't seen for a long time now.

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And I'm back at it. In Germany. It's great to play again. I think that having had the three weeks off has given the myself and the band a new lease of life. We're doing smaller clubs of around 400 and it feels like the old days again when we would just get enough money to cover our travel costs, if we were lucky.

 
There's something about the atmosphere of these more intimate clubs that encourages us to explore the music again and play with sounds and the arrangements of the songs. That's a relief because when you don't have any time to sit back and look at what you're doing it begins to feel like work, rather than doing something you love. It's interesting that if you don't figure that out for yourself and do something about it, the body will speak for you in the end. The body is always the last to speak - that's why it's so hard to make the connection between mind and body (and soul); they're so intrinsically linked, it takes a lot of effort to look at where problems begin and deal with the root of the matter.

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On a train, going to Strasbourg for a festival called the La Foire Aux Vins Colmar, that I will be playing with the band. It'll be good to see all the team again. So, yes, as you may have guessed from the name of the festival, I am back in the land of cheese and baguettes - have been for the last few days, in fact.

Thursday morning I woke up in Köln and the morning was occupied with the final stint of radio and interviews. It was a very big radio station that I went to that morning with an incredible view overlooking the river Rhine, with a foot bridge that reminded me a lot of the Millennium Bridge in London (which I once played on at 8.30 in the morning, with my brass band for a bridge tour). Ben and I played two songs yet again and it sounded good. Following that I had some interviews which fluctuated in quality, from one person who hadn't even listened to my music (asking questions like 'do you need to be sad to write a song?) to a detailed look into my lyrics and writing process. A good interview can make all the difference to my energy levels. The best kind of interviews are when I walk out feeling like I've just had a good conversation, as opposed to question, answer, question, answer. I have found that the really good interviewers (the ones who get asked to interview all the big, and sometimes challenging, stars) are good because they have no agenda when conducting the interview - they just follow the natural line of conversation and respond accordingly. It's like acting; the best actors are listening to the behavior and delivery of the other actors, rather than preparing their next line. The very nature of a conversation is question and answer, just like a drum beat: the kick drum asks, the snare answers and the hi-hats (or Charley, as they are known in France) gives the explanation - that's not all music, but definitely for the majority of the typical back beat - reggae and high-life, for example, is another story.

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In the car, being driven from Frankfurt to Cologne. The last three days have ben ram packed with radio promotion. Yesterday, Ben and I got up at stupid o' clock and flew from Hamburg to a place called Baden Baden, which is next to the Black Forest in South Germany, not far from the French border. It's small but pretty and has a lot of rich people living there, especially Russians, I'm told. We were met by our driver, Danny and another lovely label rep, Claudia, with her funky little dog, Carlos; he was very a cool and happy little thing, with a hanker chief tied around his neck to show it. Ben was especially pleased to have a dog around. The company of animals can be so much wiser, at times.

From there on everything else gets very blurry. We basically drove around from radio station to radio station, for an interview and to play the same three songs, Like A Hobo, Kick The Bucket and In Your Hands for the benefit of the single releases. Apart from that, the only thing that I remember now is lunch, where Ben and I got an education in what it's like to attend heavy/hardcore metal concerts. For example, I learnt about the wall of death, which is when the audience gets divided in half, making a corridor down the middle and when the singer gives a certain agreed signal each side charge toward the other head first. I said 'I guess it's just guys that do this' and Claudia said, 'no, I've done it many times. Nice. I think I might try that my next gig. Get ready ladies; My recent crowd surfing is just the beginning to get you all in the mood. Then there is this other thing they do at metal gigs, which I've forgotten the name of, but will call it a human whirlpool to help you get the idea; basically the centre of the audience starts spinning around and gaining momentum and speed, picking up bodies as they go, until it's like one big vortex of bodies. Sometimes, as well as pulling people in, it's spits ones out who have either fallen over or aren't moving fast enough. 

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It been great coming to Germany. Only Hamburg, so far, but so far so good.

Ben and I got a little confused when arriving at the airport, due to bad sign posting and lack of sleep. We stepped off the plane into the plane in what seemed like a departure lounge area, chatting away and walked down a very long (typical airport style) high street-like corridor. After about five minutes of walking we it occurred to us that neither sleepy idiot had question where the hell we were heading. Baggage reclaim! That's what we needed. We asked a helpful German lady, who was running late for something, but helped us nonetheless, and told us it was in the floor downstairs. We went down, only to discover that needed to walk the same long distance back, but one floor lower. Those are the kinds of things that really test the patience. i don't know about you but when I get off a plane I just want to get the hell out of there as soon as possible! However, the good side of this mini story is that when we eventually found the correct conveyer belt, our baggage appeared at the perfect moment. At least it got the blood circulating round the body. Our patience paid off.

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Blimey! Keeping up with these blogs on a regular basis is a task and a half! But I likes it.

I think today is Saturday. I can't be sure though. I would only imagine a Belgian cycling festival, in the middle of the countryside to be held on a Saturday though. Yep! That's where I am today. Somewhere in the Belgium, surrounded by corn fields and people in helmets. It's very odd. There's a radio station which is broadcasting live from the site and playing over speakers dotted around the field. I think I've heard them mention my name about 20 times since arriving, one hour ago. I think they are happy to have us.

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It's almost nine in the evening and I am sitting here listening to a recording of the iTunes festival concert that we played last night. So far I have heard I Love Your Smile and I'm now on the Kick The Bucket  and I have to say that it's sounding better than I expected. The purpose of me listening to these recordings is because as soon as I have approved which ones I want to be released, iTunes are going to make it available as an EP, for people to buy. So if I do this tonight, it should be available tomorrow. That's the beauty of digital - it's so immediate.

It was a good gig. Everybody that saw us play seemed to have really enjoyed it. We played well, but I felt that it could've been a better set list; there are certain things which have been working with the French audiences which, perhaps, need to be readdressed each time we move to different and new public. I had forgotten the ways in which the British audiences are so different in their way to attend gigs - and particularly London. It's much more about listening than having a party. In France, I think that it's more cultural for the public to want to sing, clap and make noise at shows; Music is an event. Getting people to sing, or clap in the UK can be tough. But when they do clap, at least they clap in time. I've been amazed, sometimes in French gigs, how out of time the clapping can be and have to really concentrate to keep us all together on the same beat. I've talked to other artists and discovered that it's not just me to have noticed this phenomenon. But you can't knock their enthusiasm though - and I'm not. French and English audiences are both great; You just got to get into the appropriate mentality and then it's all peachy.

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I'm sitting in the sound check at the Rough Trade showcase in East London. It's another hectic day of checking out of the hotel in Bristol, driving to London, meetings, interviews, photo's and films. As I am writing, on stage, the shop is beginning to fill up with those who have come to see us play. I just took a little moment to see if I should leave the stage but I can't be bothered, and I know that I am going to be needed in a second.

So, I wanted to tell you about the gig that we played in Nimes on Saturday. It was another great gig and a really nice one to finish of the French festival tour with. The venue was a 2,000 year old Roman arena. I was told a few stories about what they use to do to entertain the crowds there, and how the public would chose the fate of whoever was fighting in the arena by, either giving thumbs up or thumbs down. Also, apparently they used fill the centre area with water and have small battle ship fights. That sounds crazy and a lot of fun. You wouldn't be able to get away with that kind with the health and safety authorities these days.

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And I'm back. No longer in the airport, but the hotel. I am pretty damn tired, it must be said, but determined to not let these days go forgotten. If I leave it any longer I'll lose all motivation.

So, where was I?

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I'm starting this blog whilst sitting at the check in point of Montpellier airport. There's no way that I'll finish it here. There's too much to tell. I hope that I remember it all. Where to begin? I would start at the very beginning, it's a very good place to start, according to Maria in The Sound Of Music (which I watched about 100 times when I worked in the Prince Charles Cinema, in Leicester Square - it's a genius film - the cinema used to do something on Sunday's called Sing Along 'Sound Of Music', which lots of people would dress up for and get drunk to) but the beginning is all a bit blurry since I wrote my last blog.

For the time being, I'll explain why I am at this airport.

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