Retreat. Reflect. Reset. Repeat...
Redefining my why
For at least six months now I haven’t posted anything on either of my Substack channels, here’s why…1
A quick note before we get started: You can read this post on my substack website (instead of in email) by clicking here. On my website you can also access all my other posts via the archive.
Retreat
(A very quick heads up. This post is about a 30-minute read. I decided not to post it in parts, in smaller more bite-sized chunks. It seemed to me important to keep my account here whole. So, please maybe consider reading it all in more than one session.)
I doubt that I — or for that matter, anyone else — will ever find any meaningful sign or significant trace of any authentic contemporary music counterculture on any monetised streaming platform online.
My hunch is that any current music-related cultural kickback — against the mind-numbing sameness of the stagnant un-innovative global online tech-bro-billionaire dominated streaming AI manipulated subscriber-revenue-focussed self-destructive music industry, whose touchscreen portal billions constantly swipe whilst these platforms track, gather, and devour their precious time and data — well, at least for now, that musical countercultural kickback most likely happens locally and offline. Privately and remotely in the far reaches. Unfunded and organically. Face-to-face, in real-life creative live underground musical exchanges. And mostly by invitation only… like Fight Club for musicians… where ‘quality’ and ‘appreciation’ are not plummed in the shallows over time, in terms of accumulated likes, streams, downloads, and subscriptions… These are fathomed much more profoundly, directly in real-time, in terms of smiles, applause, sweat, cheers, tears, heart rate fluctuations, and visceral gut-wrenching.
The word ‘connect’ comes to mind, but in the old-fashioned sense.
Money, most likely cash money, may indeed change hands and play its part, however, financial profit has never been and will never be what fuels authentic creativity.
Authentic creatives have always, and will always be pursued by the inevitable feeding frenzy of charming managers, agents, A&R, publishers and the like — toons with dollar signs glistening in their eyes, promises of guidance on their tongues, slippery contracts in their hands, and lips ready to leach the industry’s lifeblood…
So, if today you try to Google this counterculture, you’ll never find it. You can look, however you’ll never find a curated Spotify counterculture playlist. At best, you may hear a vague rumour about some rare vinyl, or a bootlegged cassette mixtape, or a pirated live recording on MiniDisc. But actually getting your hands on any of these, is totally another story. To get anywhere close, you’d have to first untether from your screen, forget about superficial validation (via likes, views, subscriptions…), then venture out of your front door on foot, and physically go look for it locally… scratch around in the dirt, turn over much more than a few stones, let them roll, and see what lays beneath. Most likely you’ll have to dig deeper, drill down through a lot of shitty sediment. And, if and when you find this live countercultural antidote to the banal mainstream, the first rule? Don’t tell anyone! Especially don’t tell anyone about it online! People need to find this for themselves. They have to go through the process themselves. First, they have to want to find it. Unfortunately, most don’t. Most seem satisfied with, and safe in the similarity of the incessant bile and AI bilge Nordic streaming algorithms spew forth…
Anyway, that’s just one conclusion that I came to during these last six months, during a self-imposed retreat away from, well, just about everything. Away from most people, apart from my nearest and dearest. No mainstream media news. No social media (including Substack). No watching posts on YouTube (and the like). A glance or two a day at my mobile, for emails and texts. No reading online, just physical books or listening to audiobooks. No deep draining discussions with people about current affairs or politics. You get the picture. Time with my close friends and family. And time, at home, or out in the world, alone, yes, some solitude.
I did allow myself maybe one long-form podcast or so a month, maybe something from Joe Rogan, or Dr. Jordan B. Peterson, or Lex Fridman.
And due to this, I was still aware of some developments in cultural/political landscapes. I picked up snippets. For example, I knew about Trump, and about Starmer, and about Tommy Robinson.
But apart from that, for at least six months, I’ve been kinda media cold turkey. And it’s been great! I’m still here. Everyone else (mostly) is still here. The world kept turning. Democracy still exists in a few places. Wars raged, yet still no armageddon for now. Nope, the sky didn’t fall in, and aliens (allegedly) still haven’t invaded (or have they). Everything’s ok!… ish!
If anything, the free speech-crushing DeathStar mainstream media all but died during this time. And, Rebel Alliance independent citizen journalism seems to be thriving and, courtesy of recent POTUS executive orders, is about to gain access to an almost infinite stockpile of declassified US intelligence material, enough to fuel it for years. So, yep, everything’s more or less ok.
So why did I do it? Why did I disconnect for a while? Why the retreat?
The simple answer is that in mid-2024, for no apparent reason, my already not-so-great health nose-dived, badly.
I’m now sixty-two years old. For the vast majority of my life, I have enjoyed good robust health. Like anyone, I’ve had a few ups and downs, a few accidents, with broken bones and stitches, but never anything life-threatening or super serious. I don’t take and have never taken any pharmaceuticals. I did some (actually quite a lot) drugs when I was a younger man — I was a musician for fuck’s sake. I adore a good single malt Whisky, something Speyside, but I’m not a drinker. If I’m out somewhere, especially if it involves live music, and I see someone smoking a rollup, I’ll enviously covet, until I break and ask if I can bum one, but I’ve never been a smoker. I’ve never been really overweight, or underweight. Since my twenties, I’ve always hovered around the 190-pound mark, thirteen and a half stone, or so (86 kilos). I’ve always eaten relatively healthily. I’ve never really habitually over or under-eaten. I’ve always done regular exercise and kept relatively fit.
So, yes, for the most part, I’ve always been healthy, with a few blips here and there, but nothing major.
One such blip happened early in 2021, during a Covid lockdown. I ruptured my right Achilles tendon whilst running uphill, on a mountain in Spain. Within twenty-four hours I was under the knife, having emergency surgery to reattach an almost completely detached tendon.
Post-operation, maybe a week or two later, still in Spain, it appeared that I had an infection in the operation wound. Because of my post-Brexit non-EU citizen status in Spain, getting any kind of state health care, apart from emergency treatment was just about impossible, so I needed to get back to the UK ASAP, to get myself checked out there, and get this possible infection dealt with.
And here’s where things got, well, seriously fucked up.
At that time, in mid-2021, I could not get on a flight from Spain to the UK without having a Covid vaccination. I could not enter the UK without a Covid vaccination. And if somehow I did manage to get on a plane without a vaccination, and somehow manage to get to the UK, then, on entry, I would be forced to stay in a hotel, for many weeks, in mandatory quarantine, at my expense.
I needed to get vaccinated… I felt like I had no choice.
To be clear… I did NOT want to have the Covid vaccination. I was totally against this idea. Full-stop. However, I found myself at the hospital locally in Spain, at a pop-up vaccination centre, in a carpark, queuing sheep-like to get the mono-dose version (Johnson & Johnson, I think) of the Covid-19 vaccine, and subsequently getting the electronic certificate that allowed me to travel to the UK — where I could go home and place myself into a short self-imposed semi-quarantine for two or three days, whilst awaiting results of a mandatory Covid test that I had to purchase direct from the UK government in order to be able to come home… Yep, I succumbed to forced-compliance.
I mean, seriously, looking back now, WTAF!
Anyway, I got the infection treated in the UK, and a few weeks later everything seemed to be on track again, with the wound healing nicely.
I was now in an angled splint and using crutches, but at least I was mobile again.
I noticed that my hands and wrists felt pretty numb, and I mentioned it at a hospital appointment, where they were checking the operation wound. Immediately, without examining me, the doctor told me I had carpal tunnel syndrome, and that it was really common for people using crutches, especially big guys like me, where I was putting most of my body weight onto both my wrists on a continual basis. I was told not to worry, and that, when I stopped using crutches, the carpal tunnel syndrome would disappear within a month or two.
A while later I stopped using crutches, and eventually stopped using a splint, and started to walk more-or-less normally again.
Weeks turned into months, however, my wrists and hands still felt numb. I told my doctor and was given all sorts of exercises to do… I did them, regularly, more months passed, but still, my hands and wrists felt numb.
Maybe a year after I first ruptured my Achilles tendon, I had a consultation with an orthopaedic surgeon and finally got properly checked for carpal tunnel syndrome. I had a series of nerve conduction tests, which revealed that I did NOT have carpal tunnel syndrome. By this time my feet and ankles also began to feel quite numb.
The orthopaedic surgeon told me I had non-specific peripheral neuropathy, and that she was referring me to see a consultant neurologist, to investigate this further.
I asked what non-specific peripheral neuropathy was, and basically was told that it means that “your hands and feet are numb, however, we don’t know why.”
Meanwhile, I had every blood test known to mankind, in order to eliminate possible causes — diabetes, vitamin B12 deficiency, Lyme disease, liver dysfunction, to name but a few. Nothing came up. My blood work was always totally ok.
Eventually, after a VERY long wait, I first met with the consultant neurologist.
The waiting time, the lag between appointments etc, on let’s say this conventional state healthcare route, had been so long that I had already started to delve quite deep into what I would call the independent unconventional healthcare route. Establishing a firm foothold on both these routes eventually became very revealing and instructive.
The conventional doctors, seemed glued to their computer screens, ticking boxes which brought even more pages of boxes to tick, until eventually, their state-funded computer network told them what they could, should, and, indeed, legally must do. Mostly that meant prescribing some pharmaceutical or another… they seemed fixated on symptoms, and relieving them, NOT on the underlying causes, and eliminating those.
I don’t think any of these conventional doctors ever once asked me anything about, well, me! General stuff, about the basics, like — generally how I was feeling? How did I feel my mental health was? Was I stressed or worried about anything? What did I do for a living? How was that going? What was my diet like? What did I do for exercise? Did I take any vitamins or supplements? What was my sleep pattern like? Was I in a relationship? How was it, all ok? Did I have a good social life, with good friends? Did I feel lonely or isolated?
I began to do my own research on the possible causes of peripheral neuropathy, and, believe me, that’s quite some rabbit hole, seemingly with more fake deadends than authentic information.
Despite this, much of this information seemed to point in very similar directions, like for example, toxicity from heavy metals, fungi, pesticides, and pharmaceuticals. And there was a lot about vaccines and their side effects, and that, of course, included the Covid-19 vaccines, and the topics of spike proteins and shedding. Which of course led towards information about dozens and dozens of detox protocols, all with their own side-order of conspiracy and counter-conspiracy theory information (disinformation).
So, a key part of my research focused on how to know what is fake and what is real. Just do some due diligence research into, just for example, both sides of the Ivermectin story, and you’ll see what I mean. Is it simply a veterinary drug, too dangerous for human consumption? Or is it a totally safe natural wonder therapy, for humans and animals? Or worse, is it a deep-state psyop-backed Trojan horse, an insidious poison posing as a natural wonder therapy?
Contemplating partaking in some of these Covid-19 detox protocols, well, it seemed more like playing Russian roulette than anything else.
Yet, still, I dug deeper down these rabbit holes. I tried to trust my gut. I began to rely on my instincts. This is no silver bullet, but in the absence of any more reliable means, it seemed like the best approach.
And my instincts told me that there was probably something more behind all of this. This numbness in my hands (and now wrists) and feet (and now ankles and shins) could well be linked with this fucking mono dose Covid-19 vaccine that I dutifully had in the hospital carpark in Spain in 2021…
How can I prove this? Well, of course, I cannot. However, it should at least be viewed as a viable cause, in the light of conventional doctors not being able to find any other cause for this ‘non-specific peripheral neuropathy’. It should at least be investigated.
How to have that conversation, especially with a conventional doctor, and with family and friends? Well, mostly, I can’t. I did try, on at least three occasions, with doctors, and they all shut me down within seconds, saying there was no evidence and that it was all just hearsay and disinformation…
I contemplated suggesting to these doctors — and most of my friends, and nearly all of my family — that they should at least read RFK Jr’s book, ‘The Real Anthony Fauci’ before they dismissed so glibly what I proposed. However, to be very honest, I never did this. What would be the point? It is almost impossible to get through to people who are so brainwashed. So for the most part I just stayed quiet and avoided that conversation.
Anyway, in early 2024 (so just under three years after I first noticed the numbness in my hands) I met with the consultant neurologist, who asked me to repeat ALL of the blood tests I’d already had and also to have all of the nerve conduction tests redone, just to be 100% sure nothing had been missed.
Then, after all of this, he and I finally met for a follow-up and talked it all through. Here’s more or less what he told me.
The nerve conduction tests showed that I had up to a 75% reduction in sensation in my hands, wrists, feet, ankles and shins. My reflexes — my reaction time — did not seem to have been affected.
The neurologist told me, that given this amount of reduction in sensation, he was actually surprised that I could still walk!
He then told me that he could find no underlying cause and that his hunch was that I had an as-yet unidentified (so undetectable) hereditary genetic condition, that I had been unwittingly adapting to for years without noticing. Now, aged sixty-one (at that time), this underlying condition was becoming noticeable (the numbness etc).
It was more or less at this point in the conversation that I asked the neurologist about the possibility of the condition being caused by spike proteins in the Covid-19 vaccine, either directly or via shedding. He brushed me off, looked at his watch, explained he was really behind schedule that day, and very matter-of-factly diverted to asking me if I would consent to him being put in contact with my two siblings, and him telling them about his unidentified hereditary genetic condition theory. If so, if I agreed, he asked me to ask them both to contact their doctors and arrange an appointment with him. Why? He wanted us all to give blood samples, and to voluntarily take part in a genetic screening study, using the whole genome sequencing technique, specifically focusing on rare hereditary neurological disorders. The specific genome sequence they were interested in was R78.4.
I agreed. They took a sample from me that day. My siblings followed during the coming weeks. The neurologist explained that it could be a year or more before any results were available to him, and made it clear that these results would almost definitely NOT help find a treatment or cure for my condition. However, the results may help others in the future. Further to this, he said that there was not much else he could do and that he was not sure about anything that would help me in the meantime. For example, he said that exercise and/or physiotherapy may or may not help me…
And with that, he signed me off his consultation list… and somewhat bewildered and demoralised I wandered out of the hospital…
That was mid-2024.
And to be very honest, I didn’t buy into the neurologist’s theory at all. It just seemed like a very elaborate way of saying “I have absolutely no idea what is wrong with you!”
And just as I was getting my head around all of this, I began to notice that many of my clothes didn’t fit so well anymore. They seemed very loose.
My partner and I had recently decided to go kind of semi-keto and cut down on the amount of carbs we were eating, but apart from that, I had not made any significant change in my diet or general routine. I checked my weight (and I’m guessing this would have been early August 2024) and I’d gone from around 85 kilos, down to about 75 kilos — that’s a loss of about 22 pounds (or just over a stone and a half).
At first, I didn’t really think too much about it, things were pretty hectic during August. But then, maybe a month later, I noticed the very loose skin on my stomach and my butt cheeks and realised my legs and arms looked almost matchstick-like. I weighed myself again, this was maybe mid-September, and I was somewhere around 65 kilos — that’s a total loss, in about two or three months, of about 20 kilos, which is about 44 pounds (or just over three stone), without attempting to lose weight — it was like it almost just spontaneously dropped off of me…
Now, I began to worry. People started to comment. People started to ask me if I was ok. I looked terrible. I felt terrible too — weak, low-energy, tired most of the time, irritable, and unfocused. I had constant mind fog.
I think the politest way one of my close friends described my appearance was ‘gaunt’. Six months before I was perhaps even a little plump, leaning towards man-boobs. Now I could easily be an extra in a World War Two Nazi concentration camp movie. I’d lost at least 20%, perhaps even 25%, of my body weight.
Anyway, between early October 2024 and now (late January 2025), I’ve had all my bloodwork done again, at least twice. I’ve been physically examined for lumps, bumps, pain etc. (and there’s none). I’ve had chest X-rays, more tests for various infectious diseases, a prostate exam (yay), etc etc… and, well, I seem to be perpetually awaiting some result or another from some test or another.
To be very honest I feel a bit schizophrenic about all of this. Truth be known I now have very little confidence in conventional doctors with all their state-of-the-art equipment, and pharmaceuticals. I’d quite happily never go to a conventional doctor ever again. However, there is always that nagging ‘what if’ somewhere not so far in the background of my thoughts…
‘What if’ I have a potentially life-threatening condition, that if discovered early enough can be easily treated, but if left unchecked can lead to that dread exchange with a doctor, where you find yourself asking “So, Doc, how long have I got left?”
I want to just brazenly ditch the conventional route, go off-piste and find my own way along the less-trodden unconventional, let’s say more down-to-earth natural path… And ultimately, healthy once more, drive off into the sunset.
However, the truth is, I’ve been afraid to do this, at least not until I am certain that I haven’t got something sinister yet treatable…
So that’s where I am today, in the final part, hopefully, of getting the all-clear, from the conventional guys. I am awaiting some more results (this week hopefully). So far every test I’ve had shows I’m in ‘good health’. No concrete explanation for my almost spontaneous 20% to 25% bodyweight weight loss has as yet been arrived at. My doctor has told me that if this next set of results all come back clear (they are for infectious diseases, and things like Lyme Disease etc), then the next step is a full-body CT scan.
The truth is that during the last few weeks, I have begun to feel better. Stronger. Clearer. Happier. Not so tired all the time. More stamina. More appetite. I think maybe I even gained a few pounds in weight.
As I already just mentioned, I felt somewhat schizophrenic about this, because all the while I have been pacing back and forth on the conventional medical route, I’ve also been finding my footing on the alternative unconventional therapies path — and that has been super interesting.
The very short version of my unconventional alternative quest so far is that, unlike conventional medicine, it has offered me three very concrete possible diagnoses (or perhaps a combination of two, or all of these).
I’ll list them briefly.
The first I already mentioned — a side effect of the Covid-19 vaccine, that whole nanotech, transhumanism, spike protein, shedding rabbit hole…
The second is a massive myotoxic Candida infection in my blood.
The third is stress, from being almost constantly in flight or fright mode (consciously or subconsciously) for the past two or three years, basically since around the time I ruptured my Achilles tendon in 2021.
The fact is that since then, since mid-2021, well, my health has slowly seemed to get worse and worse… and it’s been worrying. Sure, I’m over sixty, however I’ve been robustly healthy most of my life. My health hasn’t slowly diminished, bit by bit, it nose-dived almost overnight. And it seemed to start about a month after I got the Covid-19 vaccine — which may or may not be a coincidence.
I haven’t mentioned this yet, but just for starters, I’m a musician, a guitarist, and I now have as much as a 75% reduction in sensation in both my hands. Try to imagine that for a minute. I can still play guitar, but nowhere near the level that I used to be able to. And that’s had a huge impact on my life and my plans (I’ll come back to this presently). To say that I have been worried is an understatement. For at least this last year or so it’s almost constantly been in my mind. Someone recently explained to me that the consequences of this almost constant looping state of ‘hypervigilant’ fight or flight, this elevated level of stress, can eventually play havoc with your health — and it can take us about as far away from homeostasis, the natural calm balance we all require and dream of.
I’m aware that here, in this post, I have not dedicated so many words to the unconventional therapy path as I have to the conventional medicine path. The reason why is very simple — I think to write much more about this particular ‘unconventional’ part of my journey back to good health in the future.
For now, I just want to say a little more about the first two diagnoses I just mentioned, about the possible impact on my health from the Covid-19 vaccine and/or a Candida infection in my blood.
How do I know this?
Well, the very short answer is that I had a blood test done by an alternative therapist in Málaga, using dark field microscopy.
The test results, which were actually short video clips of my blood, showed that a high percentage of my blood cells were damaged, and the cell walls were ruptured. These damaged cells were also clustered together. There was also debris in between these clusters. There were very few healthy-looking blood cells on their own. It seemed like the majority were clustered together.
All of this, I was told, was a very strong indication of damage by components of the Covid-19 vaccine and also of heavy metal contamination.
In addition to this, there were very clearly visible microbe-like entities moving around in my blood. I was told this was an indication of a large, quite out-of-control Candida infection, and that these microbes do naturally live in the body but mostly are only found in, and supposed to be in the gut, where they do good work. However, I was told having so many in my bloodstream was not good.
Here, in this post, I won’t say too much more about this alternative therapist or his unconventional methods, apart from saying that he works with electromagnetic energy fields to rebalance a person. At some point, I hope to interview him and give him the opportunity to explain the principles behind his therapy approach in his own words.
The last thing I’ll mention about this, for now, is that, although it is still early days for me with this therapist, I already had several treatments, and they did have a very positive effect. However, in my case, at least for now, the results only seemed to be temporary. For example, I noticed a significant reduction in the numbness in both my hands and both my wrists after a few treatment sessions. This improvement lasted for maybe a week or so — perhaps after five or six days, I noticed the numbness increasing again.
Reflect.
Redefining my why. Or, at least, attempting to…
Yep, this sudden avalanche of health issues has had a huge impact on my life and my plans.
During 2024 especially, life kind of went a bit sideways, resulting in me having to totally reevaluate my priorities. And that process has not necessarily been logical and practical, it’s been more intuitive and instinctive.
I felt I needed a bit of time out, some time to evaluate a few things, and, well, I’m glad I did, as my perspective seems to now be self-adjusting, somehow naturally realigning, and I begin to feel clearer again about where I want to focus my energy and my time.
The simplest way I can explain this is that prior to this health nose-dive, so many things that I was spending time and energy on, that somehow I really thought — no, believed — were important, just don’t seem important anymore.
When faced with a potentially existential health crisis, well, so much just seems to dissolve. The urgency of what I felt was important to say (or to post) dissolved.
A byproduct, let's say, of all this, is that my outlook generally now feels very different. Before — up until maybe a year ago — I was still very much interested in other people's opinions, especially ones that differed from mine, I was very open to dialogue and exploring other ways of thinking.
Now, today, not so much.
I kinda feel that, based mainly on my experience, I know what I know. And there are now so many crazy ways in which ‘progressive’ people view the world... for me, it's enough. I'm done with other people's brainwashed ideology. There are definitely mind viruses in the world today, and unfortunately, it feels that maybe 50% or more, of people generally, are infected (for want of a better way of expressing it). It seems like an absolutely futile waste of time and energy to attempt to communicate with these people anymore. On this score I 100% admit that maybe I just became a grumpy old man, however, I'm good with that.
Regarding the Covid-19 vaccine/nanotech/shedding/transhumanism etc, I have been and still am uncertain about writing about my personal situation publically. I’m almost 100% certain that my health issues are at the very least in part related to the Covid jab. However, I simply cannot substantiate this, I have no tangible proof… and I’m worried that I’ll sound like a ranting nut case, blathering on self-centredly about my private problems…
Also, I don’t think I can do anything. This is not my cause. I’m not an activist. I don’t want to spend my time taking on the establishment, losing my time, my money and my sanity. I also don’t want to set myself up as a target… I just want to live my life.
However, I am beyond furious with corrupt, greedy, brainwashed politicians, corporate executives, and faux healthcare professionals… My blood is boiling, and I know that I need to somehow vent all this pent-up angry bile. Writing about it openly, and candidly, seems to be the best way, however, as yet I simply don’t know how… like I said I don’t want to become like these ranting self-obsessed crazy people who have appeared on all social media platforms.
I mentioned my frustration about/anger towards politicians, corporates (especially BigPharma) execs, and faux-health care professionals... On this, I think two things. 1. They should all be prosecuted on criminal charges and imprisoned, with life sentences, they are murderers. 2. If they didn't already, they should also be forced to take the Covid-19 vaccine (with monthly boosters for the rest of their lives).
Finally, I think a big part of the overall Covid-19 vaccine issue is (and this is the same for so many topics) the amount of disinformation (from many sides). Some of the information regarding the vaccine, especially relating to nanotechnology and transhumanism, seems like it’s straight out of a very well-written sci-fi/horror movie, like Alien. It’s all so plausible, however, you just don’t want to believe it could be true, or growing inside of you…
And this brings me back to the topic of me playing music live again — of being a guitarist with very numb hands, caused by something as yet unknown. By ‘non-specific peripheral neuropathy’. Well, go figure. At some point last year I had to put all my plans to play live on hold. Yet despite everything, despite the numbness in my hands, I still deeply feel that I want to do this again. However, the truth is, I just didn’t know what my motivation for this was anymore.
Playing live, performing and singing songs, well there is so much that goes into this, so much time, so much preparation and dedication. Probably the lynchpin, to being involved in any successful gig or tour, is mental focus, and having your ‘why am I doing this’ crystal clear. If it’s not clear most likely the gig/tour will flop. There are so many obstacles on this path and so much sacrifice, that for sure at some point it will all seem impossible, and the urge to quit will be beyond intense. That’s when you need to remind yourself why you’re doing it. If you haven’t got that clearly sorted, then most likely it’s game over.
So…. I had to face a few home truths this past year — real difficult gut-wrenchingly honest home truths.
Firstly, almost every gig, tour, and festival I’ve ever been involved in performing in was underpinned by several key components that now no longer interest me at all, not in the slightest. Namely:
Drugs.
Alcohol.
Smoking.
Really late nights.
Unsavoury characters.
Deafeningly loud sound systems.
And…
Audiences that I have very little in common with, especially when I’m sober, and they are not. Most audiences contained a high percentage of drunk or high people.
The truth is, that over the years, I’ve had every possible variation of a drunk/off-your-head conversation with audience members and the characters you unavoidably meet ligging in live venues — basically, mostly they all talk bullshite.
I don’t want this type of conversation ever again… what would be the point?
I know how this sounds. It sounds arrogant and unfriendly. However, if I am harshly honest with myself, in my time, whilst passing through, I met quite literally hundreds of temporary ‘festival friends’. I hardly ever met anyone in the audience or randomly at a venue, that I really genuinely liked and authentically connected with at almost any gig I played at, worked at, or attended. This is not true about musicians (also not true about technicians and crew), I met so many great ones, although having said this, some were so much larger than life that I could only take small short doses of their company…
And, truth be known, many musicians I met seemed to get their fix of, well, love and admiration from their audience, from their fans. Many couldn’t really live life without that fix.
Honestly, I never felt like that, and it always seemed pretty sad and dysfunctional to me to see musicians needing this in order to be able to function.
However, it was not until last year that I realised all of this. I was faced with NOT being able to do gigs due to numb hands. Yet still, despite this, I still deeply wanted to be able to participate in gigs.
WHY? Why did I keep coming back to this? Why did I keep coming back to this topic? Was it just habit? Or was there more?
I certainly couldn’t lie to myself and simply say it was because of the great audiences… this was not true, for me at least, it had almost never been true! At best what I had enjoyed was being part of what fuelled and moved a great party atmosphere along, I really liked seeing people enjoy themselves, and I liked helping create that environment and that vibe. I liked being part of the event. To begin with, it was fun. However, when I thought back on it, it was all pretty shallow, helping a drug-and-booze-fuelled audience boost their high — most of which they couldn’t even remember a few days later.
This idea certainly doesn’t inspire me now. This wasn’t a good enough why.
So why? Why do I still want to do this?
The conclusion I came to, the simple answer is — for me.
From now onwards, if I’m not 100% into what I’m doing, I simply won’t do it.
I’ll be doing this for me, to express and test myself.
I want to play music that I enjoy.
I want to sing songs that mean something to me, with lyrics that express something that moves me.
Wherever possible I want to be accompanied by great musicians.
If that’s not possible I’ll perform alone to the best of my ability.
The truth is that — although I genuinely hope that at least some of the audience enjoys what I offer them and that we really connect — I actually really don’t care. I’m not going to be doing this for them. I have nothing to prove to them. I’ll be doing it for me. Literally, I’ll be doing this like there’s no tomorrow, as this may be my last shot.
Reset.
Right now I’m just focused on getting my strength back, resting, avoiding unnecessary stress, and just doing stuff that I really want to do. Attempting to switch from crisis management and damage limitation — an almost constant fight or flight hyper-vigilance — to a calmer, less preoccupied, more grounded state. A big part of this is coming to terms with unavoidable change and accepting this, whilst staying positive.
An integral piece of this will be a total reset… which will almost certainly involve psychedelics. Here, now, I’m not going to say too much more about this particular aspect, and I may (or may not) write more about this in the future. It’s a big topic, now firmly part of our culture. It’s slowly being recognised by the mainstream as something beneficial, not sinister.
And, it links directly to other aspects of my planned reset, which are:
Dedicating a huge amount of time to being creative, in whichever direction that takes me. When I was a teen, before I became immersed in the music industry, my passion was making music, both live and recorded, that’s all I wanted to do every day. I actually didn’t really give a fuck what anybody thought. Somehow I just loved what I was doing and presumed some others would too, and mostly that turned out to be true. That naive youthful confidence — not giving a fuck, not thinking about success, or making a living, just doing it because you want to — seems to me to be a fundamental component of the essential creative essence.
Massively refocusing on the spiritual strand of my life, which may (or may not) require me to redefine what that actually means to me now. Absolutely no doubt this will include daily meditation.
Cherishing myself. Giving myself and my health a chance, by focusing on regular exercise, a suitable diet, a lot of sleep, and relaxation, in particular...
Spending copious amounts of time immersed in nature.
Where at all possible, unless solitude seems paramount, to include family and friends in all of the above.
Repeat…
Another decision I’ve recently made is that I’m going to repeat, on a regular basis, this inadvertently developed process — one based on and due to my life changes during the last year or so.
I intend to do regular mini-retreats, at least a few days every month, and something longer and deeper at least once a year.
I intend to regularly set aside time to reflect and reevaluate. To check in with myself, and make sure my ‘why’ is still my ‘why’.
I intend to figure out how to do a regular reset, to calibrate my compass, something daily (e.g. meditation), weekly, monthly, every three months etc.
And I intend to keep this all on repeat — I’ll just keep on doing this…
Please note: I have another infotainment channel on substack, called The Song's the Thing! where I post podcasts, articles and content related to songwriting, guitaring, and music.🖋🎸🎵🎥🎙
