The last leg, Minneapolis to Utah to drop the gear was inevitable. A tour isn’t a real tour without a vehicle breakdown. Thank you to the good people in Lincoln, Nebraska, for getting us back on the road.

I’m having a quick five days in Utah to decompress before a few UK festivals.

I don’t know what has shifted in me with touring. It feels really beautiful, and I’ll try to describe it. There are no longer the same pressures and I’m not hard on myself anymore. I feel open to whatever the night brings, more trusting I guess. And I think somewhere in that, memories are resonating a bit deeper and so are conversations. I’m glad that the first shows in the USA were acoustic. I was ready to be a bit more vulnerable.

The highlights: so much kindness, from venues and audiences. Rescuing Arno the cat in DC. He’s neutered now and looking for a new home (best cat ever). Fireflies in Allegheny. Reconnecting with Whirring in a different way. Woodpeckers in Madison. Eight miles of walking in DC, remembering my nanny days. Mr Bear in Philly. Hugs. Lots of them.

I’m going to enjoy a few peaceful days. I’m very grateful. Thank you for making this tour beautiful and possible. You bought merch and tickets and brought the vibe. Diolch X

I have two more songs to share with you before the album arrives on June 5th.

The one I’m sharing today, Clydach, was the first I wrote for the record and
it’s where the whole science thread began.

I just loved this University of Bristol paper on pond audio, recordings made with underwater microphones, revealing this constant, intricate life beneath the surface. Creatures singing and tapping and croaking, day and night.

Around the same time, I read about the draining of Clydach Reservoir. All that vibrancy gone in a morning. That’s where the song came from.

And then yesterday, while I was putting this note together, I read about Nant y Ffrith reservoir being emptied, and the presumed loss of a thousand toads.

The same sad, upsetting story, just in a different part of Wales.

I thought about all the people who, year after year, have helped the toads across the busy A525. The way they came out because they cared. I thought that was beautiful.

I just want people to care. About each other, and about this magical home of ours, and the extraordinary life it cradles. I’m grateful for the humans I’ve met through music and on tour, who have big hearts and thoughtful minds. You very much included.

I’ll share more about the science paper and the chapter that grew from it soon.
For now, here’s Clydach.

Clydach is #4 on Hugger (book and digital tracks available now) , full album June 5th 2026

It’s funny how many of these trails and rights of way have eluded me for all these years. Maybe we’re less adventurous close to home. But this month, I’ve been wandering a little further and looking for something new.

And in this roaming, I’ve remembered a kind of long standing dream. Many of the paths I’ve taken recently have passed woodlands that are for sale with signs hanging from trees or at the edges of fields.

I’ve always loved the idea of having a TJF woodland. When I close my eyes, I can almost see it. A place where biodiversity and wildness comes first. There’d be a lot to learn, rewilding asks us to understand all the life that lives there. I also imagine it as a beautiful artistic space, a place where things can be made and shared.

I don’t know if any of you have visited the Corbenic Poetry Path in Scotland. It’s just outside Dunkeld in Perthshire. The residents and volunteers there wanted more paths through the land and with the help of poets and artists, it slowly became this 3.5km weave of sculpture, written word and surprises through woodland, moorland and riverbank. I’d love to do something similar.

In the UK, if you buy a woodland, you can’t build on it (quite rightly), but you can camp, and create simple, non-permanent spaces. I love the idea of people meeting in the woodland. Sharing skills, music, lovely quiet moments. All the things that make me happy.

I’m grateful to share the dream with you . I think the only obstacles are practical ones, money, time and knowing when to prioritise a cool project like this.

Across the valley from the Red Brick, there’s a woodland currently for sale called Coed y Mwyn. I think the name roughly translates to something like Mineral Wood. I like the vibe. What’s under the stones.

The Afon Alyn runs through it, just upstream from where we filmed Yn Rhydiau’r Afon, the video where we put a camera in the river and let it follow the course. It would have meandered past Coed Mwyn eventually.

So maybe I’ll start meandering towards it too, see if now is the time and if something wants to happen. Either way, it’s a beautiful woodland & I’m grateful to wander near it. Visit Corbenic if you can, it’s a joy.

It’s been a longer time away than we expected. We’d planned a short hiatus to share books and solo songs, but not two long years. I guess unexpected doesn’t always mean wrong. It didn’t feel calamitous. There’s been some letting go, some self reflection and then last week felt like a full circle, going back to something familiar but not as the same person. I felt like a different performer. My body felt calmer, more present. I think I had more fun than usual.

What didn’t quite add up, was my ability to put that into words. At the Royal Albert Hall, The Red, The Depot, I felt verbally overwhelmed. Like there was too much to say, too many feelings. Really strange, to feel less shy and less uptight but somehow be less gobby. Maybe that’s why I’m trying to write it down now.

I’ll always remember playing the Royal Albert Hall. Just for the shape of it and the way your vocals sound from the stage. I wore my Zappa T shirt for soundcheck, a cheeky nod to him getting cancelled in 1971 for “filth for filth’s sake”. He never did get that apology from the Queen.

About an hour before going onstage, I realised my IEM’s had an old injury I’d never fixed. Don’t put things back in the box if they don’t work! I think I’ll have to retire them before June, there’s so much gaffa tape holding the earbuds together, it looks like I’ve got two small cocoons on the sides of my ears.

My favourite moment was playing Wolf’s Law. Felt like that song was made for a venue like RAH. “Don’t wait, let’s go go goooo”. Echoes for days.

And Byron Owens joining us on the musical saw. I wonder how many saw players have vibrato’d the Albert Hall.

I drove home after, back to North Wales along the M40, the A5 - I think its the A5. That last stretch was sad, there was so much roadkill & I felt upset that we don’t make enough provision for wildlife moving around, especially in Spring. I crawled along at 40 mph. Saw a lone deer trying to climb a fence, but it was gone by the time I turned the car around.

The A5 is also ridiculous because there’s nowhere to stop for a wee at that hour. I tried twice before giving up and climbing through a thicket in my velvet dress, full moon above me. I was thinking, this is a funny way to end the night.

It was kind of beautiful though. A small relief in the dark.

A bigger relief to play again, to still feel connected and moved by the work you do. I couldn’t have asked for better shows to come back to. I’m grateful to Rhydian and to Dafydd for how we’ve pulled together this month. And for the people around me, for how we’ve found our way back into it.

Everything ahead feels exciting & warm. Opening not closing. And….. we’re playing a running festival!

I got the news that he’d declined very rapidly just as I was boarding the plane from Chicago to Manchester, UK. What a horrible sinking feeling. I was about to be stuck on a plane for thirteen hours, unable to help or be with him. I prayed on the plane, closed my eyes and tried to tell him I’d be home soon. I kept thinking about the science paper about the dogs who knew when their owners were coming home. I tried to channel that to him, I’m coming, I’m coming, please hold on. I want to be with you.

Somehow he waited for me. I got to hold him again and kiss his big sweet nose.

He was a wonderful dog. Extremely sassy and stubborn! Tony stop going through the bin, Tony don’t climb up there, Tony why are you running away from me ! For all his mischief, he was also very sweet and vulnerable. He was a lot of things, all wrapped up in a tiny body.

At the end he didn’t give up easily. They had to sedate him and give him two doses of medicine before he finally slipped away. It was quite traumatic in the moment, but now I find myself smiling a little sadly about it. He was so fucking tenacious. His body had completely collapsed and he was still fighting. I always loved how brave he was.

That’s probably why he survived for three months in the desert on his own, between Tuba City and Page, Arizona. How I’d love to know what happened there. When he came to me in 2013, he had one trigger that made him completely freak out - the sound of coyotes yipping. I could never take him camping because any smell or sign of them would send him into a panic. It was a relief to bring him back to North Wales where the only thing he really didn’t like was the rain.

I buried him in the garden at the Red Brick, under the hawthorn hedge, wrapped in his favourite blanket with the giraffe head that he’d proudly ripped off and cherished for a decade or so. I’ve bought some plants to grow there, bluebells and campion and great mullein to remind him of his desert home.

I have the most beautiful memories of him. So, so many. At home and on the road. He was definitely my little tour dog.

This week, I’ve been taking it easy. I started a course on grief by David Kessler. I’ve been looking after beautiful Wicket and adjusting to this new, quieter routine.

I feel like my love for Tony has gone somewhere, it’s changed from the external to the internal, like my heart feels wider somehow. More aware. I don’t know… maybe it’s the sleep deprivation talking.

Your messages have meant a lot. Thank you. I’m very grateful for the time we had together, even though I’m so sad it’s come to an end. I really hope we get to see each other again.

The great unknown ❤️

Love you all, Ritzy

Sadly, we weren’t able to find a new date in Toronto, so that show has been cancelled. Toronto ticket holders will be contacted directly with refund information.

We know changes like this are inconvenient, thank you for your understanding and support. We truly hope to return to Toronto soon and can’t wait to see you this spring.

I’m talking about Hidden Lake in Utah, where I shot some of the video for Water Baby, (track #3 on the album). It opens the Water chapter of the record and in a similar way to Kaibab Summer, it celebrates the elements themselves. It’s a song about wild swimming, paired in the book with a science paper that explores the benefits of dunking yourself in lovely, cold water.

The irony with this music video, is that the body of water in the aforementioned Hidden Lake is about as unswimmable a lake as you could find.

It’s in a cavern, tucked in a canyon. No bats live there. I made absolutely sure because I couldn’t forgive myself if I disturbed any fluttermice. What it does have is brown water, thick with… ?!? Cave slime? I genuinely don’t know.

I thought it’d make a cool shot, climbing into a dinghy in an underwater cave and paddling around in the dark with some cheap disco lights.

What I wasn’t expecting was that about 12ft from shore, the lake floor dropped away into something far more abyss like than the length of the big stick I’d brought along. Hence my constant off camera pleas of “ Don’t drop the rope”.

I had visions of drifting off slowly into the cavern , never to be seen again.

I ended up cutting the video to just the last instrumental. I didn’t think the world needed a full three minutes of floating dinghy! But I like what I’ve captured. Thank you Byron ❤️

One more fun fact, the track Water Baby, wouldn’t play in the cave at all, even though it was downloaded. The only track we could get to play was The Vandals’ Anarchy Burger, which is a banger.

If you’ve bought a copy of the book, the QR code at the back now lets you download the track. It’s also up Backstage in the Music Club, along with some other new offerings.

Pre tour, I’ve been kind of hoping to sell one book a day, maybe today could be your day? Each copy comes with a digital version, and there’s now a CD option too.

https://www.thejoyformidable.com/pages/shy-western-merchandise

Thanks for being here, and for all your support so far.

Have a great week. Paddle somewhere beautiful X

I’m aware that I’ve been quiet and that I haven’t shared much music. I’m grateful for your patience & starting to feel ready again. Because of your support, the 1st edition has sold out & I’ve been able to print more books. Thank you so much. 🙏

If you have a copy of the book, you can use the QR code to go to Hugger’s official site. You’ll find more songs living there now too, so you can read the word and listen at the same time. The CD will be shipping next week if all runs on time.

Thank you again & love to you all. See you soon Seattle ❤️

Subscribe now

Books & CDS 👇

https://www.thejoyformidable.com/pages/shy-western-merchandise

There’s been a bit of a gap between finishing the album and actually sitting down and listening to the final masters. Some of that has been intentional, I prefer working that way. It gives the old ears a rest so that you can go into the final stage a bit brighter, less buzzy.

Some of the space wasn’t planned - between Tony’s illness, the holidays and maybe running out of steam after the UK tour. But then I am very careful these days about not burning out. There’s a lot to juggle sometimes - you guys seem to understand.

The good news is - I’ve been listening properly again, sequencing for CD first (vinyl later if I decide to press) And.. I still like my record! Phew. The gap didn’t bring on the usual creative rejection of everything I’ve just made.

The other thing that occurred to me with fresh ears, is that I might’ve actually done what I hoped I’d do at the start of the musical side of the book. I’m quite a sound-led musician. Sometimes the only way I can explain what I mean is abstractly, like describing what I want things to feel & sound like, then experimenting and building sections with that as my guide. It’s a pretty impressionistic approach. If a song is about trees, I want you to feel like you’re in a forest with me. Or in the air chapter, that you’re up there with the pelicans, or for the clip I’m about to share , that you’re tumbling in wild water.

And I didn’t want to use literal sounds, drips and leaves and all that. I wanted to see if I could paint those worlds using guitars, ambiences, and other strange noises.

I’m going to share a bit of Track #3, Water Baby, with you. See if you feel like you’re in the cascade. I’ve got some video for it that I still need to edit. I was re-watching it today and remembering the night we filmed it, and it made me giggle. “DON’T DROP THE ROPE!” I’ll tell you the story in the next post.

First edition running very low in UK 🙏

A bigger box in the Americas 🙏

https://www.thejoyformidable.com/pages/shy-western-merchandise

I wanted to share something I sent yesterday to everyone who’s supported my book, just in case you’re here on Substack but not on that mailing list.

I’ll preface this by saying that 2025 was a year of contrasts for me. Every day we wake up to something negative and troubling, greedy bloody humans, cruelty, systems under strain. I’ve signed more petitions than ever, tried to donate when I can and watched the world (and the music industry) change in ways that don’t always feel just or sustainable. In my own work touring doesn’t pay any more, AI is lurking in complicated ways and I feel like I’m going to have to adapt - again!

Somwhere in the middle of all that, I’ve felt something else too. For every awful human, or vile deed, there are so many more people trying to do good. I’ve really felt that this year, and taken refuge in it.
Writing Hugger, came from that place. It made me happy to write and I hope it carries some of that hopefulness when you read it. 2025 brought people, animals, care and love into my life too, and those things feel more precious than ever.

Thank you for being part of that.

Mailer:

The books have been making their way to you over the past couple of weeks with a few bumps along the way. One box went all the way from the West Coast to the East coast for no reason 😂 and then the printer ran out of recycled paper, but I’m glad to say, we got these things fixed and I’m really grateful for your patience and that it’s all settled.

A small but important note, because I don’t want anyone to worry - if you’re wondering about the CD - don’t worry, I didn’t forget to pack them! I know it’s possible! They will come separately when the album is released and I’ll have an update on that very soon.

For now, I hope the book has arrived. The Hugger site will have new music on it this week and I wish you all a gentle New Year.

Cariad

Ritzy X

The car is very full, I’ve eaten a lot of bananas and our journey soundtrack has been an uplifting mix of Vic Chesnutt and CCFX. I’ve made a note to revisit Clevedon Pier, swim at Lumb Falls and hug the 800 year old yew in Heptonstall.

We’ve played two shows so far, Weston Super Mare and last night in Hebden Bridge. My heart feels mighty full right now and I’ve been grinning a lot. Reconnecting with the thing I love to do and having it lead me to lovely humans again, is a gift I didn’t realise I’d missed quite this much.

Aside from gushing happy, what I also want to write about today are the venues themselves. I’m so glad they were recommended to us (thank you Music Club ❤️) These places are such hopeful anchors of art and creativity in their communities.

Loves in Weston Super Mare is a vegan cafe, a meeting place and a music venue. They run a scheme that supports refugees and asylum seekers, offering workshops and meals. Playing there felt like stepping into someone’s values, not just their business.

And Hebden Bridge’s Trades Club is a member-run, independent venue. Built by its community for the community. It’s been putting on gigs since 1982. Some seriously iconic shows too, like Patti Smith in 2012.

Both venues welcomed us with home-cooked food, good cups of tea and a sense of kindness. The Green Room at Trades might be one of the cosiest spaces I’ve ever warmed up in.

Our little travel party is just the four of us : Rhydian, me, Dafydd Cartwright on percussion and Teige at Front of House. We’ve bonded quickly with a shared sense of humour. There’s been a lot of laugher, which, for me, is an important part of any tour.

Last night was even more special by a surprise appearance from Pete Marsh, a friend for over twenty years- he’s such a gifted musician. He joined us for A Heavy Abacus and Silent Treatment and nearly made me cry. Pete plays with Paul Heaton these days and he’s in the middle of making a new album.

Driving back across the moors to North Wales I felt incredibly grateful, that this new chapter exists and we get to share it with you.

Today I’m back in North Wales, cuddling my doggies and trying not to nap all day. Tomorrow we roll on to Norwich for a gig in a bookshop, because of course, this tour should include a gig in a bookshop.

See you somewhere along the way. Bring your hugs, I’m collecting them.

Next week, I’ll be going on my first tour as Shy Western and The Joy Formidable’s first run of shows in two years. Lots of firsts.

Those two years have raced away, but it’s been spent in lots of happy ways. I’ve had an abundance of time with loved ones, and my dogs have needed me. I’ve made a record, written a book, decorated a house and re-wilded a garden. I’ve worn overalls more that vintage dresses, and I’ve dug some massive holes. It’s been a sort of novelty, enjoying other things that bring me joy, not always immediately or easily, but I’ve learnt quite a bit about myself along the way.

These past months have brought more solitude and contemplation than I think I’ve ever had. And now I’m opening the doors to heading back out, albeit for a quick 10 days. I keep wondering whether I’ll remember how to be a frontwoman.. how to interact with other humans, not just dogs and hoverflies. I guess we’ll see. There’s no nerves, just a playful curiosity about how these days will go and how it’ll feel.

We started rehearsing and building this set back in the spring, picking songs from the TJF catalogue, wondering whether Shy Western would work in a stripped-down, intimate space. And then, about a month ago, we met someone who drums. And it’s been a great connection. A new energy. Dafydd, who also happens to be from North Wales, will be joining us for many of the dates in the UK and that feels a little magical to me.

So what goes into a first tour back, well……

This week, Rhydian has been building boards like crazy. Loopers, effects and percussion and he very kindly tidied up my tangle of acoustic pedals. I’ve been messing with different sets and relearning songs from years ago. (I think I’ve mentioned my poor memory for music!)

There’s merch to order. There’s that boring point-of-sale system to set up. Gear to insure. Guestlists and videographers to co-ordinate. Audio specs galore.
And the most important question: will my new lamp even fit in the van?

So we’re a little hive again. Getting ready to fly away for a few days. And then we’ll do it again in North America, and hopefully say hello to friends in Europe next year. Here’s to hugs in every city. I’m excited for that, and good conversations. New friends. Sharing some music and happiness.

See you very soon, maybe not in this order - Weston Super Mare, Hebden Bridge, Norwich, Bristol, Manchester, Cardiff and London.

X

My new book is in its FIRST EDITION stage and almost sold out ❤️

https://www.thejoyformidable.com/collections/shy-western

https://www.thejoyformidable.com/collections/shy-western

Thank you for all your support, with Tony, my charity hike and my new book/album ❤️

The cover for my first book Hugger began with a small sea cave in North Wales. I guess that’s me, in the mouth of the cave, with all the threads of this book around me. I’m looking out towards the horizon. Katherine Clare did many of the illustrations for Hugger; she’s a lovely, talented human.

This front cover was inspired by the next song I want to share with you, Song #10 on the album, I Turned Real to Me. I’ve written a little about it before, but this sea cave has stayed with me throughout the making of the record and my journey back to being well again.

When I had to cancel shows at the beginning of 2023, it felt like a cog that had been wound too tight finally exploded, and everything it had been holding together came tumbling loose. All those feelings and fears I’d been ignoring. It was a strange feeling, coming undone like that. But finding my way back to somewhere more peaceful has been the best thing that’s happened to me.

This new song is partly about that - getting well again and coming back to yourself. I don’t like wanging on about that time too much, but if anyone’s going through something similar, I’ll always talk about it. Sharing feels more helpful than dwelling on it.

I’m very grateful to everyone who’s bought the first edition of my new book. Every copy comes with a digital version of my the album and I’m sharing music in the TJF Music Club and here as it unfolds.

So here it is, I turned real to me.

I’d love to make a music video for this song soon. Time’s gotten away from me, as it often does, but I keep reminding myself, there’s still time for what matters.

Read more

Who likes my new hat ! 😂 My best friend asked if it was from Temu, which I found outrageous.

So I arrived safe in the USA. In this picture, I’m trying to defy any jetlag by wandering up Turtlehead Peak in Nevada. And testing out my new hat haha!

The rim to river challenge starts on Saturday, we’ll be hitting the South Kaibab trail at 6am and hoping to finish 16 hours later.

We got an amazing surprise yesterday afternoon.
An anonymous donor just challenged our Rim to River team to hit $10,000 in fundraising before we leave the Grand Canyon this weekend. They’ve promised to match all donations through Sunday, so, I feel good that we can reach the goal.

The hike raises money for two great causes The Cairn Project, which helps women and girls access outdoor adventure, and the Grand Canyon Conservancy’s North Rim Recovery Fund, supporting restoration after the Dragon Fire.

If you’ve already donated, thank you so much ❤️ If you haven’t yet and would like to, your contribution (of any size) will be doubled.

Here’s the link : https://www.classy.org/fundraiser/6529466

Wish me luck, I’m excited to see the Canyon again, spot some lizards and wildflowers, and soak in that desert quiet.
See you back on the Rim Sunday morning. X

https://www.thejoyformidable.com/collections/shy-western

(Hugger is a book and an album that belong to each other — songs and stories twined around nature, science, and the small connections that make us human.
The First Edition lands October 22 (2025), with the album following January 26 (2026).
Here you’ll find the threads that tie it all together: behind-the-scenes moments, readings, music, and glimpses of the journey that shaped it.)

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Hello. Announcements are weird, but here you go, I have one that’s important to me for today.

As I may have hinted, I’ve been writing a book that’s twined around science, music, stories and the natural world. Every chapter has a song and every song has a chapter. They belong to each other.

Read more

It’s been a fascinating process, so I wanted to share a little bit about it.

I’m not sure whether I’m a fast or slow writer. These short essays usually roll out pretty quickly, probably because I don’t overthink what I want to say. The book has taken about eight months from start to finish, running parallel with the studio work for the music. I’m definitely slow in the studio, but it doesn’t bother me, I’m slow but intuitive and there’s been nothing frustrating about making this record.

I’ve really enjoyed having both parts (music and writing) living side by side. They’ve inspired each other and kept me energised during these months while TJF has been on hiatus.

To start, I just went for it, scribbled it down when it flowed and then I’ve tidied it up a little bit in the editing process. I made myself write every day, even when I didn’t want to. I thought about the Tom Robbins quote quite a bit : “Some days I may spend twelve hours on a single sentence, and it still won’t be right. But even if I only end up with one good idea at the end of the day, it’s worth it”

I found the proof reading part quite dreary, and even though I’m an English major, I stumped myself a few times with grammar and tense. All happy learning curves.

Then I reached this point and I’m holding a nearly finished manuscript in my hand, and I had no idea what the heck to do next. This much was clear:

• I wanted the book to be illustrated (thank you Rhyds & Katharine)

• I wanted to include lyrics

• I wanted to link the science papers

• And I wanted to manufacture it in the most sustainable way possible

I guess the big question was whether to self publish or try “shopping it around.” I’m not even sure what the last part of that sentence really means, I suppose it was just about getting help. With regards to books, I have no idea what that process is like. It can be miserable in music unless you have partners you love working with, so my stomach told me I’d probably prefer to self publish, even though I wasn’t sure where to start.

With all these ideas swishing around , this seedling of a book, or maybe by then it was more of a sapling - began to create connections with some truly lovely human beings. I can’t thank Hannah Loy and Adam Walton enough for their insight during this time, and a very special shout-out to Georgia Ruth. Her kindness and advice really steadied me, she went above and beyond to share her experience. Forever grateful.

So, the pages have now gone to a company that focuses on sustainability, that part was really important. I’ve read the whole thing more than ten times, hunting for typos, and it finally has its own ISBN barcode. I’ve also started recording the audiobook side of it. I’m making a first edition that will come out before the record. It’ll link to a special page - working title the portal, where I can share music and video prior to the album’s released.

If anyone’s self publishing for the first time, reach out, I’d be happy to pass on anything that I’ve learnt.

Hugger will be available from October 22nd, with early access for Music Club members.

I’ve been on both ends. The interviewer and the interviewee.

I just had my first interviews this week as Shy Western and what happy affairs they were. I learned a few things, reflected on the months I’ve just spent, and met two genuinely lovely humans at the same time.

They were slightly different interviews, both arranged through The Joy Formidable Music Club and I guess, a bit experimental to see if anyone wanted to chat with me about the new music. It was different from doing press, more like chatting with friends.

This little fling of firsts feels quite satisfying after so many years of being a musician. It was fun having my first solo interview and it made me reflect on how things have been in the past.

I watched one of those old interviews back recently, from around 2017 or sometime after Hitch, and I was surprised by how nervous I looked. That hadn’t always been the case, but there’s this chunk of time, after Hitch and before Into the Blue, where more often than not I look, hmm not sure on the word, maybe uneasy. I remember getting more nervous than usual, like some version of stage fright for conversation had kicked in. I’d look over at Rhydian for clarity, like I didn’t trust myself. I can trace what caused that dip in confidence, and I don’t need to unpack it here, I’m just glad that chapter is over and this week I got to enjoy a good natter and a reflect.
It’s heartening when you can see that shift in yourself.

Here are a few of the lovely things that came up:

1. I was reminded of two great artists — Bikini Kill and Fiona Apple (and Fiona’s home-based studio record)

2. We talked about leaving Spotify and the broader questions of sustainability in music.

3. I got to chat about one of my favourites, Robert Smith.

4. We talked about what makes humans “decent”.

5. I remembered that we’ve never played The Hurdle live and why.

6. There was a Ennio Morricone and Nick Lowe reference, that made my day.

Some highlights there, and an idea of the type of trading of ideas and swapping references. I dug out my Fiona Apple albums after the chat.

It reminds me why I’m enjoying being on Substack too: there’s room for depth here, for real conversation and for ideas to spark off each other and grow.