on the train to Edinburgh(being a professional musician for a bit)
I spent a few spare moments at the weekend starting to mix the tune that I've been recording, and spent a lot more time than I'd anticipated kicking individual beats and bass notes around in Cubase to try and get it to gel. It's alarming how sloppy my playing can be when put under the microscope; it's tempting to start again and make the whole thing quantized and metronomic, but I don't think it would be as good. It's called 'feel', honest.

On Monday morning I finally had an idea about how to connect the dance band stuff with my home-made recording projects. I'm not saying what it is yet, but I've got four months to see if I can get it to work before we play again ...

Bike maintenance has been a recurring theme here, with the back wheel rim on my Dahon causing four punctures even after I figured out where the problem was.

eBay brought me an eBow, which has been fun (on fretless bass it sounds like a lorry going past), but I was outbid on some Raymond Scott sheet music, which would also have been fun if unessential. And I chanced across this from an eccentric popstar from my youth: apparently a salvaged cassette mix from an unfinished album, a self-penned song that sounds like Andrew Gold meets Kate Bush. I wonder how much of the album got made, and who owns the tapes. I'd like to hear them.

After a relaxing and enlightening lunch in Tchaiovna with John Butt yesterday, I was heading for Edinburgh and a rehearsal with the SCO and Charles Mackerras. Just as I was about to set off, my phone went and it was someone from the SCO saying 'Um, we've forgotten to get the organ tuned for today, what can we do?' So I packed the Ahlborn fake into the car and set off. Somehow having a cellar half-full of flight cases makes me feel more like a real musician. And it sounded quite convincing, even in the organ solo in the Mozart vespers K321. Working with Mackerras is always a pleasure: he's still inquisitive as well as knowledgeable, and his stick technique (not that he's using a stick) is clear and unfussy. He politely invites you to make music with him: a winning rehearsal psychology.

Later, on the train home again
Relaxing after a fine pint of Red Cuillin and some Seabrook's crisps at the Halfway House.

Time flew by with Pamela T this morning, which bodes well I think: we'll meet again and play some more some time soon. I hadn't imagined that one of Bach's violin and harpsichord sonatas could possibly work with recorder, but with Pamela, and Noel's wonderful Italian harpsichord (as heard on Mungrel Stuff) it sounds really rather good. Pamela writes a mean tune too: we found a piano backstage at the Queen's Hall and busked our way through assorted bits and pieces while Mozart was going on through the wall.