I Didn't Ask To Be Born

Well, I think it’s about time I blogged as my terribly depressing tale about the suicidal man needs something chirpy and upbeat to counter it.
Well, chirpy and upbeat it is then!

Everything is AMAZING at the moment, the sun is out, the smell of barbecue is in the air and we’re making a new album. Yippee! It’s a daunting prospect in some ways. This is our fourth record so it’s hard to find new angles, arrangements and grooves we’ve never visited before. We tried to play a song in alternate bars of 5/4 and 6/8 last week and it sounded absolutely awful. If you tried to dance to it you would possibly injure yourself. Some time signatures go together like chocolate and ham.

As I spend a lot of my time writing with other writers and with artists it’s a strange mindset to get back into writing for myself again. What do I want to say? What subjects need exploring? When it comes to the crunch I’ll probably just mine that rich seam of lingering adolescent angst and remember all the rejection and gothic suffering of my pimply teenage years, and- voila!- a song.

I then nervously play a bunch of ideas (songettes?) to the rest of the band. I always feel like I’m on American Idol facing the judges at this point. After listening to them they say things like ‘is that the chorus?’ or ‘it’s a bit meandering,’ but occasionally they’ll all agree on a tune they like and we then go and play it, rewrite it a bit and record it. We’re doing occasional video blogs (do the nerds call those vlogs?) from the studio so check out the Farrah myspace for news.

Judging by Ben and Nate’s blogs we’re not the only ones heading into the studio and trying to find a three minute masterpiece- a pocket symphony. I’d better get back to work. No one understands me, I’m 15, I’m going to my room to listen to The Cure. I didn’t ask to be born.