The Technological Bubble

The Technological Bubble
I’m happy to say
Stops causing me trouble
When I blow it away
And go for a walk
On a sunny spring day.

My senses grow brighter
Sweet scents waft my way
The birds sing on high
And the clouds fly away.

Pleasures are doubled
The stress at least halved
I no longer struggle
My breathing stays calm.

But it’s not a big secret
This thing that I do.
I just press the off switch
And you could do too.

Once the bubble is blown
The bubble stays blew.

Money In The Bank

The practise done when there is no opportunity, gig, or performance on the horizon is far from pointless.

Like any practise, or exercise, or preparation it is Money In The Bank.

A gift of kindness to your future self.

It will make things easier, when the pressure is on.

Because when the pressure’s on it is not the time to be getting ready.

The Stuck

I get stuck sometimes. In my head. It can, it used to be, a precursor to much worse.

But even now, despite knowing better, the first thing I do is to try and mentally fight my way out. I look around desperately for something to get me out of The Stuck. A distraction. Something to do. Or watch. Somewhere to be. Anything to stop me thinking.

But often the harder I try, the more I want to get out of it, the less energy I have, and the more the stuck sticks.

And it’s strange, but once I accept that, once I stop the struggle to “escape”, once I look straight at whatever it is that seems to be holding me… it, The Stuck, immediately starts to lose its power.

Being stuck usually has its own shelf life. It will usually lose its grip. But that shelf life will decrease far more rapidly when the stuckness is looked at directly, acknowledged, and then waved goodbye.

What A Ride!

“What’s wrong with U?”
”I can’t come out to play till after T?”


It’s true. Everything is in its place.

But at the same time those places are constantly changing. Things move. A constant movie stream in our consciousness with never a single sequence repeated in exactly the same way.

We don’t have to do a thing to “create” that experience.

We simply learn to dance with it all. And dance with the experience of dancing with it.

We are each a whirling dervish, spinning along with, and within, the universe. Inside and out. A part of everything, and yet everything uniquely ours to enjoy.

What A Ride!

*’s OK! No mushrooms were imbibed for breakfast. Just getting amazed without any outside “assistance” whatsoever. Yeah, baby!

Pulling At The Heart Strings

Pulling At The Heart Strings.

A magical happening, which Art in all its various forms can achieve. What a wonderful thing to be able to do. What a gift that is. What a privilege.

Just a song, a film, a picture, a documentary, a sculpture, a mime … reaching out to the heart of someone who may well be a complete stranger. Perhaps even helping them to heal. Or to grieve. Or to process. I’m thinking of sadder songs now.

Simply to help us feel something, when those feelings have been pushed down while we try to get on with the job of living. Of getting by.

And those feelings don’t have to be a massively advertised event, shouted, or cried out for everybody to notice. Even if we’re in an age where thankfully we aren’t hiding them away as much.

A feeling can simply be a quiet harmony to the song that you just sang.

If you’re feeling it, somebody else is.

Even if you never hear the tune that their heart is playing.

Our Choice

Some big event could occur.

“First man walks on the moon”

”President declares war”

”Earthquake raises city”

”Man and Woman have silly hats placed on their heads and millions of people get excited”

It’s possible for all these things to happen, and to pay no attention whatsoever. We are not owned by information. There is no obligation. We are generally, thankfully, not forced to pay attention to anything.

Maybe some of these events are worth paying attention to. Maybe not. But it’s almost always Our Choice.

Anyway, I had a quiet Saturday. And a quiet Saturday night.

What Is Wrong With Now?

What Is Wrong With Now?

I’m walking along “in the moment”, but my mind wants to jump to some point in time, the past, or the future….anywhere that isn’t now.

Is there something wrong with now? Something I need to escape from?

Not really. This phenomenon can happen when I’m in the very places where I love to be. While wandering alone along the forest paths on the side of Beinn Ghuilean this morning, for instance.

It’s probably a survival instinct you would think. From the days when my ancestors were needing to rehash the past in order to learn from mistakes, and plan the future. All in order to survive.

Those instincts aren’t necessarily helpful to me today though. Because NOW is the only place that I can actually count on, and my survival doesn’t need me to leave it too often. And it definitely doesn’t need me to do it when I’m in the middle of doing something I love.

Not that imagination is redundant. But it would be nice to go into that world as a deliberate choice.

Because, I’m lucky. Most of the time, everything I need and want is here, right now.

A Song About Love

So yeah, I wrote A Song About Love.

It was definitely me wot wrote it. I’m not going to have anybody say otherwise.

Sue me if you want. I’ll see you in court!

The Love Song
Verse 1: Love is a feeling that we can't ignore
It's like a wave that crashes to the shore
It makes our hearts beat faster than before
And it's a feeling that we can't explore

Chorus: Love, love, love
It's a feeling that we can't get enough
It's the reason why we laugh and cry
And it's the reason why we give it a try

Verse 2: Love is a language that we all speak
It's the melody that makes us weak
It's the answer to the questions we seek
And it's the light that guides us when we're bleak

Chorus: Love, love, love
It's a feeling that we can't get enough
It's the reason why we laugh and cry
And it's the reason why we give it a try

Bridge: Love is a mystery we can't solve
It's the passion that we can't control
It's the flame that burns in our souls
And it's the story that we all unfold

Chorus: Love, love, love
It's a feeling that we can't get enough
It's the reason why we laugh and cry
And it's the reason why we give it a try

Outro: Love is the one thing we all need
It's the glue that makes us all succeed
So let's hold on to it tight and never let it leave
Love, love, love, it's all we need.

by D.Fee - Songwriter

The Only Cup Of Coffee

I’m drinking a cup of coffee.

It has been pointed out to me that this is The Only Cup Of Coffee I’ve got.

I might like to have a coffee made by an experienced barista in Venice, served to me in a little plaza, on a beautiful springtime day, with nothing more to worry about than to idly watch the gondoliers glide by.

But this cup of coffee is the one I’ve actually got. And this chilly windy day in Campbeltown, just after 9am on the fourth of May, is the place and time I’m drinking it.

It tastes fine. And it tastes even better when I don’t start wishing it was something else.

*And here is my Fee Comes Fourth song for this month - The Other Way Round. Who knows what it’s about, but it’s the only cup of coffee on offer today. ;)

ChatGPT

In the interests of science, blah, blah, blah, I dived (that’s dived America, NOT “Dove”!!! ) into the wonderful, brave new world of Open AI ChatGPT. Below is the question I asked, followed by the response.

It’s very good.

But I’m still, ahem, around if you need me… and even if you don’t, I’ll be here tomorrow.

Or will I?

Q. Tell me what you know about Home concerts - music gigs in people’s homes.

Home concerts are music gigs that take place in private homes rather than in traditional concert venues. They are typically organized by music fans who want to host an intimate and unique experience for themselves and their friends, family, or community.

Home concerts have become increasingly popular in recent years, in part due to the rise of social media and online platforms that make it easier for hosts and musicians to connect and promote their events. They offer a more personal and interactive experience for both the performers and the audience, as the setting is typically smaller and more relaxed than a traditional concert venue.

Home concerts can take many forms, from acoustic singer-songwriter performances to full-band shows. The musicians are typically paid through donations or a portion of the ticket sales, and the hosts often provide food and drinks for their guests.

Some potential benefits of home concerts include the opportunity for musicians to connect more deeply with their fans and build their audience, as well as the chance for hosts to create a memorable and unique experience for themselves and their guests. However, there are also potential risks and challenges associated with hosting and performing in a private home, such as limited space, noise complaints, and safety concerns.

Overall, home concerts can be a fun and rewarding way to enjoy live music in a more intimate and personalized setting.

Small Circles Of People

An interesting blog here on an end to pop.

"The end of pop and the rise of the long tail and AI brings us back a century. Just like it used to be–small circles of people, not mass markets. But this time with endless choice”

I do think this summarises where we’re at quite plainly.

There are still some songwriters out there who are living in The Loop Of Eternal Promise in which they imagine a future with a hit song (s), a record contract, loadsofmoney!!!, and an interview on The Graham Norton Show.

For the rest of us I truly believe that “Small Circles Of People” are where our music is destined to be played, if we choose to embrace the challenge and find our own small circle.

And this is a good thing not a bad thing.

Firstly it presents us with musical goals that are realistic and achievable.

Secondly, we can be part of something that helps to build community and real life personal connections at a time when that is becoming something which is desperately needed.

The Plumber

We’re waiting for The Plumber
(The “Heating Engineer”)
We’re still waiting for the plumber
(I think he’ll soon be here)
I hope he’ll do some plumbing
(Coz one thing is quite clear)
The boiler isn’t working
(And I hope he’ll soon be here)

We’ve been waiting quite a while
(Since the beginning of the year)
But we haven’t frosted over
(I don’t want you to fear)
For our safety or our comfort
(Coz we’re full of warming cheer)
And by that I don’t mean whisky
(Though feel free to send some here ;-).

And I promise not to give some to the “Heating Engineer”.

The Best Of All Worlds

Last week I watched a live stream of a performance from Nashville. Happens that the fella performing, Aaron English, after a brief email exchange a few years ago, travelled all the way to Kintyre to play at Homesongs here in Campbeltown. He talked about his journey and his experiences in Kintyre during his live online set, and it was great to listen to his incredible music and to reconnect (though we’ve never actually disconnected!)

Here’s Aaron performing in another wonderful cross-continental connection with Ali Gul Pir from Pakistan on a wake-up call collaboration, Sound The Alarm.

These connections are the odd happenings which have become kind of normal now for many people, but which only 30 years ago would have seemed like science fiction (or, as with Live Aid, something that happened only in the lives of “superstars”).

And these are the little images of how local, personal, and intimate experiences can interact with the global, digital, and online world, in a positive way. For all of us.

I’m very much a “have your cake and eat it” kind of person. Even now, though things look dark at times, we can still strive to achieve The Best Of All Worlds. Let’s work, as far as we can, to make that happen. Let’s support each other in doing it.

Because it only takes small steps on our part to help move things in a good direction, even in this crazy, mad world. Just that email. Or that decision. Or that invitation. Or that commitment.

We have choices.

And, no, we can’t do it all. But we can take this one step.

We can do this next bit.

Good luck!

Carlos

I was back at The Gather in Tarbert last night. I even got a cheer when I walked through the door. They were worried that, although there were a few poets and story tellers, there was not going to be any music, until I turned up.

Hey, I’ll take desperate cheers any day of the week!

Anyway, it turns out that I wasn’t the only musician there. Carlos from Chile was in the house. He borrowed my guitar and blew us away with his fantastic playing and passionate singing.

I joked at the start of my final set that my guitar would be dreaming of Carlos that night.

Turns out it was worse than I thought. I woke up this morning to find that the familiar warm curves of Taylor were not lying there beside as would be normal on a Saturday morning.

After a little bit of research I discovered that the little devil has run away with that silver fingered Latin American troubadour!

Honestly, I was really trying to play her better.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to love again.

ps. (Just for the record, no, Carlos didn’t steal my guitar. Parts of this story are made up).

Waking Grok

This black coffee tastes good.

It warms my hands on the outside and my stomach on the inside.

Though it is almost May, the weather here is still un-seasonally cold, and today, instead of the recent blue skies, a translucent grey is hanging over Campbeltown. A short while ago I walked through that veiling mist to the bus stop. My wife is on her way to visit relatives in the Netherlands.

Walking home, I see Grok, the giant who lies across the plateau summit of Beinn Ghuilean. He is shrouded in that same light. Like a bride in waiting, who doesn’t quite feel confident enough to be seen clearly.

I will always love Grok though. I hope someday to wake him from his slumber. In fact, I call my exercise routines Waking Grok. He symbolises to me the primal man inside, who is fighting to get out of my modern 21st Century skin.

There is no desperate reason today for me to move away from my computer, apart from the Siren Light Lure behind the open door of The Refrigerator. No impending need to hunt. Everything to hand.

But Grok keeps me moving. Keeps me healthy. And in truth, keeps me alive. He may be hidden by mist, and deep in slumber, but I am grateful that he exists.

In Order To Nail That Song

I have a song that I sang every morning for a number of months.

After that length of time you might have thought I’d have nailed it down.

It never felt like that.

It never felt like every single aspect of it….the delivery, the emotion, the technique, the honesty, the awareness, the in the moment-ness, the vocal, the guitar work…it really never felt like it ALL came together.

But I hear that some artists do allegedly “nail it’. I hear it even happens to them when an audience is there. I hear that the audience is aware of it too.

And I now suspect that the last thing I needed to do, In Order To Nail That Song, was to let go of the expectation of ever nailing it.

I have a feeling that is where the magic might lie.

A Challenge

So, I’ve been procrastinating.

I’d like to offer A Challenge.

I’m looking for two artists who read this blog, and either live close together, or know each other, or both, to take part in the “Two By Two” idea I mentioned here.

Work together to find two people (it could be yourselves) who would be prepared to host a music gig in their homes. It might take a while. There is no immediate rush, but a commitment would be great.

Myself and my friend Chris Annetts (I haven’t told him i’m writing this yet, but I know he’d be up for it) will travel to play our songs at those homes.

In return, we will do the same here in Kintyre. And you can come and play here.

I know some of you have already been here to play, and have been thinking along these lines anyway.

So let’s make it happen.

Perhaps we can start a trend.

How?

Here is a remarkable personal story from a series called How We Survive. It really puts a lot of things into perspective.

Or it should.

But how easily we forget. How easy to start looking at our own relatively minor issues, and feeling sorry for ourselves.

Why do we do that, in the light of other peoples much harder struggles? And does it help us get anywhere with our own battles?

Clearly not.

Like the remarkable lady in the story, we need to be able to learn to look at the bigger picture. Her summary of how she survived, is actually a good place to start to learn How? to thrive, when we can apply it in the privileged position of not having any life threatening situations to deal with.

Read the story. This advice comes backed by some serious authority.

“You get over your little self, then you get your instinct to work, then you get to connect with other people and then you achieve stuff.”

Alarming Alarm

On Saturday somebody told me that Putin has got submarines surrounding the coastline of Britain.

I was weirdly pleased that the news, whether it is fake, true, partially true, or complete and utter b’lox, didn’t disturb my equilibrium one iota, even though my informer wasn’t somebody who I thought of as being prone to bullshit.

There is nothing I can do to change the situation.

Of course terror can more easily get a hold if we have already experienced bad news that then led to bad experiences. Real life consequences undoubtedly colour our psychology. If I was Ukrainian, I might not be so blase, about what Putin was allegedly doing.

But still, even then… what if there really is nothing I can actually do about it?

Yesterday I got a more immediate shock when my mobile phone gave off an Alarming Alarm. If you’re British you may already have known that the government was going to do a practise “disaster warning” for everybody in the UK who doesn’t have their phone settings changed to prevent it. I don’t watch the news, so I didn’t know, and I hadn’t changed my settings.

I’ve changed them now.

What’s the point of letting other people dictate to us when, what and whom we should be afraid. Personally I’m quite capable of being a scaredy cat thank you very much. But I’m not getting into the habit of letting terror have a hold of me before something has actually happened to get that kind of adrenalin pumping.

And the good news is that there were no periscopes visible in Campbeltown Loch on my regular early morning Submarine Spotting amble.

More Like Ourselves

“Why didn’t they pick me?”

Well, for all sorts of reasons. Personal ones, reasonable ones, unreasonable ones, mood ones, timing ones, not yet time ones.

Maybe even lack of (enough) talent ones.

At the end of the day it simply wasn’t for them. Even though you gave it your very best shot. And it won’t be for most people who come across your “thing”.

But when we don’t get picked, when “they don’'t get me”, I don’t think that should lead us to try and become more like somebody else.

Quite the opposite. We should turn our faces to the wind.

And become More Like Ourselves.