Way up north

Wednesday 17 December, Gothenburg

" I'm not even fooling myself anymore" he mumbled, and I believed him. It was a cold grey afternoon. Bejewelled ladies with delicate features nursed their drinks. The creme de la creme. I had to push on with a half remember song in my head. The tune was in competition with the soul destroying department store stereos. The rumble of the downtown traffic was a welcome respite.

It took five rehearsals with The Last Souls to get the songs in shape. Andy had drafted in Rickard Yxelflod to replace Dick Tator. Andy and Daniel had some sort of disagreement when I was in the US. Andy wanted to keep the band name because of the good reviews for the album and all that goes with it. And so, long hours are spent in a dusty room at Hagabion playing very very loud. A new rehearsal space is being talked about. Less dust hopefully.

At Lucifer Rising noise is being made in front of microphones. Mick Cronin sent over the files of the sessions from Tranmission Studios in Drumlish, and I need to get started on the sessions from Sonic in Dublin.

Trying to write lyrics in the last darkest hours before dawn. The hum of computers, the ticking of the two-faced clock. The odd shuffle of the half awake rabbit. Tea pot on the heat, candles flicker nervously. Lights over the town, waning moon to welcome a spell. Started to read some of Gerald Masseys "Lectures". Might get inspired. I dreamed it all out.