by Sam Nicholas
I’ve always been told I’m a perfectionist. I’m still not sure if this is the case. This is a sentence I’ll re-write several times, this a phrase I’ll think about for a few weeks.
For me making music has always been about finding hidden lumps of pain, lighting fire to them and watching them disperse into the ether…
WEIGHTLESS/SINKING is the sonic representation of one of the most confusing periods of my life: I was simultaneously getting to grips with how much I had suffered from / attempted to forget the fact that one of my parents is a double cancer survivor, helping my family move out of my childhood home and trying to find my place in the mind-boggling metropolis that is London. I thought that the paradox of feeling like I was weightless yet at the same time sinking perfectly described the emotional soup I was in.
(I’m) a sparrow’s feather
on a lake: weightless/sinking
This project is really just the natural progression of my seemingly endless need to throw sounds together until they resemble something along the lines of a song. I’m excited to see where I can take amphibian sibling and how I can benefit people with music as I’ve benefited from others’ music.
“Are you gonna be ok speaking to him?” she says.
“Yeah sure, why?” I say.
“It’s just that some people totally freak out when they meet him,” she says.
I’m standing outside of a studio door at BBC 6 music, and the nice girl who is chaperoning me is asking if I’m gonna be ok meeting Bruce Dickinson.
October Books, the well-loved independent bookshop in Southampton, UK where I work was facing a rent increase and an uncertain future towards the end of 2017. What to do? My colleagues and I started to look at alternative premises in the local area and the city center in early 2018. We first viewed the former chemist next door, which had a smaller retail space and a lower rent, so we registered our interest. But it was not to be – someone else got in before us.