Happy Birthday to "The Grown Ups": Ringing like a Bell

As a way of celebrating the first birthday of my debut album, The Grown Ups, I thought I would write a little "behind the scenes" feature about each of the songs on the LP. You can listen, download or buy the album over at www.mickterry.co.uk

RINGING LIKE A BELL

Sometimes you are lucky enough to get in on the ground floor with an artist. By luck or chance you stumble across them playing a small dive venue or sneaking onto the bottom of an established artist’s support bill. I first saw Danny George Wilson perform, alongside his brother Julian, in their band Grand Drive. From the get-go they oozed class. Julian had the soulful Hammond Organ chops and when he and Danny sang in harmony it was like the spirit of the Everly Brothers had entered the 12 Bar Club. I would bump into Danny at gigs and we soon struck up a friendship, bonding over our love of North Carolina Power-Poppers, Dillon Fence . I kind of lost touch with Danny when my first son was born, but, it was clear to see that the wheels on the Grand Drive camper van were beginning to grind to a halt.

Our paths crossed again in March 2008, when he played a show at the splendid What’s Cookin’ venue. I watched as Danny, now all grown up, held the room spellbound and I knew at once that his star was in the ascendance. I returned home, drunk on a heady brew of Guinness and inspiration, and began to write what would become “Ringing like a Bell”. Having endured more songwriting salad days than any man, vegan or otherwise, should have to bear, I knew deep down that this had the makings of a classic song. When the time came to commit it to tape, I knew that I wanted to have a “Faces/Ronnie Lane” feel to the track and, in the end, I don’t think we were too wide of the mark. If I had to pick a favourite from The Grown Ups I think that this would just shave it.

In July 2011, the song became my first ever radio airplay, courtesy of the great Ralph McLean and his sublime “Classic Album Show” on BBC Radio Ulster. The icing on the cake, however, was hearing my old friend Danny’s new band “Danny and the Champions of the World” being played on the same show. As well as Dillon Fence, Terry Reid and Chocolate Milk Shakes, Danny George Wilson and I are also rather fond of the word Serendipity....

Happy Birthday to "The Grown Ups": The Usher's Tale

As a way of celebrating the first birthday of my debut album, The Grown Ups, I thought I would write a little "behind the scenes" feature about each of the songs on the LP. You can listen, download or buy the album over at www.mickterry.co.uk

THE USHER’S TALE

Two of my close friends met and, subsequently, fell in love at university. There was, however, one small problem. He lived in Belfast and she in London. When college was over, they headed back to their respective parents homes and so began their long distance love affair. He took a job as a cinema usher and, in the slow periods, he began to write her a series of fantastic, long letters. When the letters arrived in London, she would read them and tell the family how great they were. As time went on, the rest of the family began to read the letters too. So much so, that, when the letters dropped through the letterbox, it was commonplace for them to be opened by whoever got to the front door first.

On hearing this tale of the letters, I immediately thought it would make a great storyline for a song. As I worked on the song, it became clear that there were similarities between their relationship and that of my wife and I. They too had traveled across Australia and even stayed in the same towns as we did. I’m not sure at what point the song actually began to incorporate elements from our relationship as well, but, I quite like the idea of the line between the two stories becoming blurred. The lyrics in the second verse were meant to be like postcards or snapshots capturing the lovers as they make their way across the landscape. The dance of love can be like a shooting star; bright, beautiful, but, gone too soon. If we are really lucky, it holds us forever in its sway.

Happy Birthday to "The Grown Ups": T.E.D.

As a way of celebrating the first birthday of my debut album, The Grown Ups, I thought I would write a little "behind the scenes" feature about each of the songs on the LP. You can listen, download or buy the album over at www.mickterry.co.uk

T.E.D.

In 1982 I kept a personal diary. It is the only diary I have ever kept and I wrote in it every day. With hindsight, 1982 was a perfect choice as it captured the period between my last year at school and my first year at work. It was a year of great change in my life. Leaving school and heading out into the big, wide world had left me feeling like I was on the bottom rung of the ladder all over again, rather than becoming the adult I was so desperate to be. I had always envisaged being magically transformed from boy to man overnight when I hit my 16^th year, but, pre-conceived notions, more often than not, have a way of slapping you right in the kisser.

I was a shy kid and often marveled at how interesting other people’s lives appeared to be. They always seemed to be doing the things I wanted to do: going to clubs, playing in bands, taking drugs and having sex. In short, I wanted their lives. Instead, I lived, vicariously, through the pages of the NME, Melody Maker and Smash Hits. I looked upon music as a religion. I worshipped The Jam and The Small Faces. Paul Weller could have told me to eat my shoes and I would have done it without missing a beat. Stevie Marriot, however, was the perfect role model. He was a Mod (like me), he was short (like me) and had a blue-eyed soul voice that could tear the roof of off the joint (unlike me). Around this time I joined my first band and tried to emulate little Stevie and his Faces. It was a short lived affair and probably lasted less than 18 months, but, I knew that this was what I wanted to do. I began to set targets for myself. If I didn’t get signed by a record company by the time I was 18, I would give up. This deadline was extended to 21, then 25, then 30, after which point we never mentioned the deadline again.

Back in my year zero of 1982, a friend of mine had an imaginary friend. She would refer to him all the time, without a hint of irony: “He did this”, “He said that” or “We went there”. I was deeply envious. Although I had the friends I had grown up with, I could already feel myself drifting away from them. I wanted more than the work/pub/marriage/work/pub merry-go-round that seemed to be on offer and yearned for a like-minded soul. The imaginary friend seemed like the perfect answer, but, try as I might, I could never, quite, pull it off. I was much too self conscious and, coupled with the crunching right hook of low self esteem that hit me on a daily basis, was always left feeling like a fraud. To carry it off successfully, you’ve got to believe your own press. On my 16^th birthday, my friend sent me a card and signed it from both of them. It was a great pimp move. I still have that card somewhere……

Happy Birthday to "The Grown Ups": Comets

As a way of celebrating the first birthday of my debut album, The Grown Ups, I thought I would write a little "behind the scenes" feature about each of the songs on the LP. You can listen, download or buy the album over at www.mickterry.co.uk

COMETS

Our lives are shaped by the choices we make. They wrap around us like a blanket, woven deep into the fabric. What would the 16 year old version of yourself make of the path you have chosen? Time has the power to distort your dreams beyond recognition, to blur the line between sacrifice and compromise and leave you, ultimately, feeling cheated. The struggle to hold true to your beliefs gets harder with each passing year and the pressure to conform almost unbearable. Some days, that little voice inside of you is barely audible and it can leave you wondering if it was ever, truly there at all. Those are the days when compromise sneaks up on you, whispering sweet nothings and false praise in your ear. The temptation to put the car into drive and head for the “easier road” suckers most of us in the end and renders us powerless to ignore the siren’s beautiful lament.

Fast forward and we are knee deep in mortgages, offspring and reality TV shows. Having convinced ourselves that we are happier, we lose sight of what really mattered, what still matters. The kick you got from playing a Clash 45 at full volume, from reading Steinbeck or the thrill of a warm kiss. There are a thousand reasons why you can’t do something, but, only one reason why you can: because you should! Nostalgia is just regret viewed through prettier spectacles.

Driving back home through Islington on a summer’s night, I saw the moon almost perched upon the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was breathtaking. A moment of staggering beauty in the greatest city in the world, my city, my London. I pulled the car over, parked and sat outside the Betsy Trotwood pub in Clerkenwell. I watched as the planes twinkled above the London skyline, the modern world intertwined with the old, and realised that this was exactly the kind of choice we very rarely make. We never stop the car, we never gaze at the moon and we never see the wonder that surrounds us. I wrote "Comets" the next day, believing it to be a comment on the lives of people around me. Looking back, I think it was more like a "note to self" from the 16 year old me.

Happy Birthday to "The Grown Ups": Northern Exposure

As a way of celebrating the first birthday of my debut album, The Grown Ups, I thought I would write a little "behind the scenes" feature about each of the songs on the LP. You can listen, download or buy the album over at www.mickterry.co.uk

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

I have always, and still do, suffer from a lack of self belief which manifests itself, at best, as a lack of confidence or, at worst, as a crunching, right hook from the hand of low self-esteem. You could put me in a room of 10 musicians and I would immediately relegate myself to 10th position without hearing any of them play a note. When I started playing live again back in 2009, I performed at "open mic" night where the acts went from the sublime to the ridiculous. On my arrival at the venue, I was greeted by the sight of a young boy walking around the room with his guitar strapped on, but, slung behind his back with the headstock facing the floor. I thought this kid must be seriously fucking good! Maybe this is how a young Stevie Winwood would have strutted around back in the early 60's? Nothing could be further from the truth. When the would-be Hendrix actually began to play, it was clear that he knew three chords and he played each of his cover songs with said three chords. Even if the song actually required more than those three chords or different chords altogether, he played those songs and sang a melody which bore no relation to the original song. You had to admire his bravado. He was fearless. He was stupid. Maybe equal measures of both, but, as we all know, presentation is everything.

Back in the early 90's there was TV show called Northern Exposure. In one episode, the Ed Chigiak character sees his low self esteem brought to life in the form of a sneering, sniping and vitriolic dwarf. Once Ed realises how much this self loathing is affecting his life, the scene ends with the little guy, tail between his legs, wandering off into the woods. My little guy is still around, and probably always will be, but, nowadays, when I hit the stage to perform, I look that little fucker right between the eyes and give him the middle finger....

Happy Birthday to "The Grown Ups": Hoxton Song

As a way of celebrating the first birthday of my debut album, The Grown Ups, I thought I would write a little "behind the scenes" feature about each of the songs on the LP. You can listen, download or buy the album over at www.mickterry.co.uk

HOXTON SONG

Sometime in late 2008, on a whim, I bought a piano . I hadn't really written anything substantial in over five years, other than the beginnings of a song that would eventually become "Ringing Like a Bell" , and I had begun to wonder if my writer's block had applied for permanent residence. Not being a piano player by any stretch of the imagination, I found that just by changing the bass notes over a floating chord immediately freed me from the tired guitar chord progressions I would normally veer towards. Sometimes you just need to hear the same notes in a different order. Who knew?

Around the same time I had started to use Facebook and hooked up with a few old friends I grew up with in Hoxton. On one of the groups, somebody had posted a copy of the photo which would become the front cover for The Grown Ups. Whilst discussing this with one of my old school pals, he said that he still remembered me being drunk on top of the postbox after my sister's wedding and trying to convince the police that I was merely overcome with emotion, rather than a heavily intoxicated 14 year old. That afternoon, returning to the piano, I sang the line "That's me drunk on top of the postbox. " over a descending bass line and Hoxton Song tumbled out in about 20 minutes flat. In little more than the time that it takes to cook a Vesta meal, I had finally emerged from the songwriting wilderness.

A few years previously, whilst driving through North Carolina, I spotted a Grizzly Adams type character emerging from the woods, carrying four rusty car exhaust tail pipes on his shoulder. To this day, it still puzzles me as to exactly how the donor cars ended up in the middle of a forest. In my head, I see myself with a full-on trapper's beard, emerging from the woods and dragging an old piano behind me.

Songwriting is like that....

"You're gonna die up there."

What is it about the moon that is so inspiring? Is it the fact that it seems so big that you could almost touch it, or that, unless you happen to drive around in an Apollo landing craft, you will never set foot on it. Either way, that gravitational pull has us all, at one time or another, reaching for something completely beyond our grasp.

Romantic notions aside, it is a cold, dark place where no known life form can exist. After all, "There is no Dark Side Of The Moon, it's all dark". So, why on earth would you want to visit such a god forsaken place? I think that because it is such a permanent fixture in our lives from the very beginning, it has an almost siren-like quality. On a clear night it can always be found smiling down on you, trying to tempt you with it's other worldly charms. When I was a kid, I used to picture the man in the moon as a kind of spiv-like character, opening his coat to reveal stars and moonbeams for sale, each one of them hanging perfectly from the inner lining.

Perhaps, it's a symbol of a time when we believed anything was possible, when TV fed that dream and promised us that a brave new world was just around the corner. We watched, in our millions, as man set foot on the moon and believed that we'd all be whizzing towards the thin blue line within the next 5 years.

Fast forward to 2011 and we seem to be looking back with an almost, whimsical longing to a planet inhabited by Martin Landau and his band of brothers. Perhaps, the reason we send robots deep into the far corners of the galaxy is that we now know, without uncertainty, that the Solar System is a very, very lonely place. Careful what you wish for Space Cadets....