I live a life of routine these times. I find routine suits me. A daily regime driven by certain hardened principles. Positivity. Choice. Opportunity. Experience. COPE if you prefer a daft acronym. You can't beat those.
I'm up early. I blink at the sunlight. What day is it? Do I have any lessons I need to get up for. Is there anything pressing I need to focus on. Once I establish there's no immediate need to panic I rise. Throw my dressing gown around me and descend the staircase of my mezzanine flat and make myself a cuppa and take it across to my desk. It's generally between five and six.
I don't have any online lessons with German business people today. I prefer it when I do generally. Good for my bank balance but also for my head. I wouldn't mind lessons at the weekend actually. I like teaching. Particularly now I'm working online and I'm not obliged to spend time in staffrooms. But it's good to keep my bank account ticking over now I'm freelance.
Given that I don't have any lessons today my routine today is completely devoid of pressing concerns. So I can concentrate on the records I have lined up to play and write brief reviews for before I start my day in earnest.
Today I've got Amelia Coburn, The Fall, John Fahey and Roddy Frame. It's a cool mix. I'm particularly excited about Amelia Coburn, a fantastic new discovery I chanced upon the night before. One of the best albums I've heard this year. And I've heard a lot of great records, When people say music isn't what it was they're not really listening.
I live with a certain inner intensity these days. I've jut left a job and lifestyle that I despised and threatened to do me in. But while my daily routine is much more settled and in my own control now I still have to keep an eye on my health, my diet, my lifestyle and finances. I like this discipline but need to keep a watch on it constantly. Just so we keep steering in the right direction.
I won't bother you with a blow by blow account of everything I do today. I go to the fitness centre and alternate between the sauna and the plunge pool and pool. I listen to High Land, Hard Rain and think about when I bought it when I was 17. I walk down Northumberland Street and toy with going for a slice of pizza in the cafe of the organisation I used to work in but decide against it. I go to Marks & Sparks and do some food shopping and clothes browsing.
By half six I'm in The Central , having spurned The Bridge Hotel my constant stand by watering hole. Instead I cross the High Level Bridge in brilliant sunshine. I'm excited about the prospect of seeing Richard Thompson tonight. It feels like a moment to savour. He's a genuine hero if it's worth having heroes in music. I think it is.
The man's a survivor and he's still putting out fantastic product. His new album Ship To Shore is out tomorrow and it showcases an artist who can still land a considerable punch when he chooses to while retaining a wry mischievious smile on his face. He's a genuine legend even though he won't keep a straight face if you call him one. He's a man who knows music and what it's all about. Also the human cost of deciding to devote your life to it.
I find myself at The Sage and in my seat an hour later among the oldies. It's fair to say most of the audience have been round the block a few times. The pair of women next to me gabble about autism, Eastenders and going to Durham University but I'm relieved when they retreat into silence when support Jim Moray makes his way onstage.
Moray is a relative stalwart of twenty years or more but of course he still a pup by comparison with the likes of Thompson. But he knows his trade and keeps us entertained with his banter and knowledge of the Folk fretboard and eternal concerns for half an hour.
I enjoy another alcohol free in the lobby deciding I don't need anything from the merch table. No sign of Billy and Chris, who I thought I might bump into but our paths don't cross. Then I'm back in my seat just in time as Thompson and his five piece band make their way onstage and kick off their set.
I'm immediately thrilled to just be here. It's the first time I've seen Richard Thompson do his thing. The man after all who did such timeless guitar work before he reached his twenties on wondrous Fairport Convention albums like Unhalfbricking and Liege and Lief. Really we should bow before him.
He's not a man who stands on ceremony. He wants to joke and chat. Modesty and mischief itself. But when he sings and plays you have to reach for your synonym dictionary. Coruscating, Incendiary. Words that mock you and don't contain his ragged but fluent majesty and mastery. Don't do him any justice at all frankly. Both his guitar work and his voice are bettter than words.
I find the evening and experience moving and a privelidge. Even though my seat was not cheap. Probably the most expensive ticket I've ever bought for a single performance.. But my memory of watching Thompson will stay with me forever..
We get our money's worth. He comments on making sure we do. It helps being in such a state of the art modern venue as The Glasshouse Sage. 'This place has changed its name every time I come here.' He says, He apologises for playing so much from his new record but frankly it sounds very strong indeed And he and his band have every right to be very proud of it.
They play their encores, he pays his tribute to Sandy Denny and declares Trump guilty on all counts to a huge cheer. The announcement has just been made. The band make their bows and we're off into the night. Happier and enriched by the experience.
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