Where is the best place to see Waxwings?

Where is the best place to catch sight of one of the most beautiful of winter visitors, when it comes to birds? The Bohemian Waxwing, Bombycilla garrulus.

Waxwing closeup
At one point early in 2024, there were 30+ Waxwing feeding on rowan berries next to a local railway station

You might imagine it would be some delightful hill or vale, a nature reserve, or perhaps a remote woodland. Well, that’s not the case. This distinctive species heads south to the UK when it gets too cold for it in northern parts and when the supply of berries on which it feeds dries up. As of December 2023, it seems like we are in the middle of an irruption of these birds with relatively large numbers turning up in all sorts of places right across the UK.

Best places to see them are where there are lots of trees with lots of berries, rowans and other species. They seem to like to observe their “feeding station” from on high, so if there are other taller trees, like poplar and ash overlooking the rowans, all the better, but tall lamp posts might do just as well as a perch. So, where might those places be? Well, town planners and architects like to put these attractive trees on trading estates, retail parks, next to bus stops and bus stations, science parks, road junctions, brickyards, city parks, pub beer gardens, service stations, school playing fields, supermarket car parks and the like! If you’re very lucky and have a decent feast for them, you might even get them in your garden.

Waxwing feeding on berries in a tree, Newcastle
Waxwing feeding on berries in a tree next to a bus stop near Newcastle-upon-Tyne on a grey, drizzly day. This was my first chance to photograph the species.

Just scanning the Birdguides page for recent sightings during this wonderful 23/24 winter irruption of Boho Wx, here are some of the sites:

Tram stop, Didsbury
Quarry, Flintshire
Churchyard, Aldermaston
Cemetery, Romsey
Car park, Garforth
Road junction, Wharfedale
Canal towpath, Aylstone
Road junction, Skipton
Cobbler’s Walk, Bushy Park, London
Car park, Rodborough
Road junction, Leuchars
Road junction, Colchester
Road junction, East Hunsbury
Community centre, Watford
Pub, Tonbridge
Pub, Chafford Hundred
Retail park, Middlesborough
Road bypass, Nescliffe Hill
High School, Earlston
Roundabout, Maresfield
Caravan park, Fife
Airbase, Brize Norton
Road junction, Waltham Cross
Historical building, Rodborough
Car showroom, Elgin
Cricket club, Long Hanborough
Shop, Hailsham
Station car park, Merstham
Roundabout, Thringstone
Nature reserve car park, Hesketh

A bird’s eye view

Birds have incredible visual systems. This is especially true of the birds of prey, the raptors, which includes the hawks, falcons, eagles, buzzards, harriers, owls, and others.

Red Kite staring at me from its perch atop a conifer. Bird to camera distance about 50 metres
Red Kite staring at me from its perch atop a conifer

Unlike many other types of birds, the raptors have binocular vision, their eyes face forward, like ours, which means they have a 3D view of the world ahead of them. This allows them to pinpoint prey incredibly well even from great distances as is the case with the Peregrine Falcon. That species, and others, also have two fovea, the most sensitive regions of the light-sensitive retinas at the back of their eyes. They use one for homing in on prey from a distance but switch to other for greater precision as they get closer to their prey. There are many other adaptations in raptor vision.

I was photographing a Red Kite recently when I noticed one such adaptation that I hadn’t seen before. The bird was perched atop a conifer and I approached slowly to get a relatively close view without disturbing it. It ignored me to begin with and I got a nice photo of it staring out of the surrounding farmland.

Red Kite taking flight
Red Kite takes flight

I took a burst of photos and in one when the bird had turned to stare at me on the ground I could see that half of its face was in sunlight, the other half in the shadow of its beak. If you look closely at my photo, you can see that the pupil of its right eye, the one in the sunlight, is smaller, while the one in shadow is larger. The bird is adjusting pupil size independently depending on how much light is reaching the eyes. This is not something that we humans can do. If one eye is in the light and the other the dark, both pupils will still be the same size.

Closeup of Red Kite showing pupils differently dilated
Closeup of Red Kite showing pupils dilated to a different degree

This is a remarkable adaptation – independent pupil control or pupil asymmetry, also known as anisocoria. It allows many birds to finely adjust the size and shape of each pupil. Anisocoria is a general term for having pupils of different size. Famously, musician David Bowie had a fully dilated left eye pupil having sustained an injury to that eye as a youth. My late mother had a viral infection when she was middle-aged that also left her with an unresponsive, and almost fully dilated pupil in one eye. Apparently, one in five people have anisocoria, but in raptors its a positive trait rather than a problem.

This independent pupil control serves various purposes. One key advantage is the regulation of light entering each eye independently, optimizing vision in different lighting conditions. The ability to control each pupil independently aids in maintaining a stable image on the retina, crucial during activities like flying or hunting, where motion is involved.

Red Kite ruffling its feathers
Red Kite ruffling its feathers

From an optics point of view, photographers know that a larger aperture on their camera, which is equivalent to the pupil being more dilated in the eye means more light can reach the sensor or film, analogously to reaching the retina. But, this comes at the cost of a shorter depth of field. So, if the camera or eye is focused on a subject, then much of what is closer or further from this focus point will be out of focus or blurred. Make the aperture smaller and there is less light entering camera or eye, but the depth of field is greater.

Another adaptation that many more bird species have is a third eyelid. This is known technically as a nictitating membrane, it lies beneath the upper and lower eyelid and can sweep across the eye independently of the outer two lids. It has usually transparenty or semi-transparent. It has various purposes, fundamentally it acts as a protective layer that closes over the eye when a bird is feeding chicks or killing prey. It can also protect the eye from glare or allow a diving bird to enter the water without being temporarily blind but without the risk of damage from the impact or, again, impact with its prey or objects hidden from view under the water.

One of my Red Kites (there were a dozen around the patch on the day) obliged with a quick view of its nictitating membranes among the burst of photos I took.

Nictitating membranes, Red Kite
In this rather “painterly” zoom and crop you can hopefully discern the Red Kite’s nictitating membranes

I have previously talked about the pupils of another type of bird, the Wood Pigeon, Columba palumbus. In this species, the shape of the pupil seems unusually asymmetric, but this is an illusion due to the presence of a portion of pigment in the eye adjacent to the bird’s pupils.

Wood Pigeon
The illusory unusual shape of a Wood Pigeon’s pupil

Peter Panto poetry

I’ve written a short poem to use with my video montage of a few of my photos from the 2023 Cottenham Theatre Workshop production – Peter Panto!

Tickets on sale here.

Peter Panto

It’s panto season once more
Oh no it isn’t! I hear the crowd roar
We’ve tuned the ba-dum tsch, We’ve settled the score
And stitched curtain calls for the walk-down encore

The principals’ principles are sometimes ad lib
The chorus-line parts are tight like a jib
Cute kids play their part, There will be no damp squib
And the drums they may crack your spare rib

We’ve got Wendy and Peter, Hook, Mick, and Tinker
The Darlings are darlings it makes you just thinker
Tik Tok Crok, with a K? It’s a bit of a stinker
It’s all quite enough to turn you to drinker

The baddy is bad and he gets a Booooo!
The goodies are as good as goody-two-shoe
The lights are alight, There’s no dame, that one’s new
And come Saturday, once again…it’s behind you!

Written and Directed by Kerry O’Connell
Musical Director Barbara Duckworth

Peter Panto 2023 – Cottenham Theatre Workshop

My annual view from the pit as guitarist with the band and as “assistant musical director” alongside our proper Musical Director Barbara Duckworth on piano. What a show it’s going to be. We’ll also have Adam out of off of C5 the band on drums, Christian on cello, and Tanara on clarinet.

Anyway, these are my photos of the grownup actors in no particular order. Cottenham Theatre Workshop (CTW) will share my photos of the youngsters in character on their website and socials.

Sleeping Pan

Still some tickets available for the Saturday matinee and early evening show, but those are almost sold out. Reasonable numbers on sale for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday evenings – buy them here.

Wendy and Hook

Pirates tricia and Natalie

Tik Tok Crok

Starkey compere

The Darlings

Pirates

Pirate Tom

Wendy Tink loathing

Pirate Paul

Pirate Amanda

Pan scowling

Pan Wendy Tink2

Love Islanders

Rocking out

Hook in his boat

Homepride

Hook upset

Camp Tinkerbell

Added a few phone snaps from the dress rehearsal

Guitar

Capt Hook

pirates

Tink2 Wendy Peter

Love Island Liz

Pirates Megan and Debs

Lost Child, archery

Shocked Tinkerbell

Mermaid

Pirate Code

Mary, Narrator

Hook and Tootles

Mermaid

Director Kerry

Panto cast backstage

Panto cast backstage

Auntie Babs, MS

Spectacles and bowler hat

Do you need a hand?

Like a flame to a moth – a song

Having collaborated with two of my very good, musical friends this month on two distinct songs, I assumed that would be the end of my musical inspiration, at least until 2024. But, then I was on Threads, and happened upon the account of singer-songwriter janapochop.

Cut to the chase, here’s my new song – Like a flame to a moth. It’s NOT about moths…

In the spirit of finding new music, I checked out her Spotify and there are some wondrous songs to be heard. In particular one called Pretty Please. Jana describes this, her latest song, as having been “produced by me in my bedroom in Brooklyn…but I tried to make it sound like the New Mexico desert night sky.” It is wonderfully evocative and having visited New York and New Mexico a long time ago it struck a chord.

It also struck something else and made me think that I hadn’t tried to write that kind of imagery in a song for a long time. So, I sat down and let the lyrics flow. I then thought about grabbing a guitar and doing my usual singer-songwriter type approach to coming up with the chords and a melody, but nothing felt right. So, I turned to my music software and grabbed a few built-in loops, some harp, some strings, a few beats, and pulled a song structure together with the intention if ad libbing the lyrics over the top of it and then recording live instruments to fit after the fact.

Well, the loops were nice enough and the lyrics evolved, a melody came forth. I pulled a weird middle section together with live guitar and bass. Somehow, this spilled into the following loop section and nudged me to restructure the lyrics and to create something of a refrain. Fun AND games.

Needless to say once I had a demo, I re-recorded the vocals, added some harmonies, pulled together a proper guitar track, added a solo, did a fairly heavy and funky bassline to fit and then mixed it down. A couple of days later I was extending the refrain, adding a little more vocal and mixing it down to the song that’s on my BandCamp page right now. As with most of my songs, it’s genre fluid, starts off a little proggie, builds to a power ballad thing, breaks to some funk rock and then goes full-on crossover for the finale. I suppose bottom line, it’s like Peter Gabriel was doing Big Time while he was still with Genesis in 1973…ish…

Anyway, Jana had a listen, which pleased me no end, and had this to say:

“HOLY this is AWESOME!! This is a whole journey and it’s already stuck in my head – glad to have maybe sparked this but you created a whole world here!!”

…which pleased me no end again.

Long-time collaborator Andrea T had this to say about the song:

“It sounds fantastic – I especially like the chorus, with that driving rhythm and the way it all builds around the swirling arpeggios. The kind of ‘spare’ quality of your voice is quite Peter Gabriel adjacent, and the timbre of some specific words in this one, especially ‘firedoor’, ‘heartbeat’, and ‘blame’… quite uncanny. Actually, think it’s one of the best things you’ve done!”

Like a flame to a moth

Someone’s running up the stair
Brushing metal, stepping hard
The trembling painted banister
The firedoor, insanely barred

There’s no smoking in the kitchen
But, the fire’s out of control
The flames they flickered with your heartbeat
The smoke it lingered in your soul

Like a moth to a flame
Like a flame to a moth
You’re finding its caress
Feeds the burning of the cloth

Like a flame to a moth
Like a moth to a flame
You’re hiding your distress
in the playing of the game

Like a moth to a flame
Like a flame to a moth
It’s knowing your success
Is someone else’s loss

Like a flame to a moth
Like a moth to a flame
It’s the ticking of the clock
The acceptance of blame

There’s a light on in the hallway
Its wires they go deep underground
It’s pulsing to the time of your heartbeat
Yet it didn’t make a sound


Here’s the link to the song again – Like a flame to a moth

Genre Fluid

Just packaging up six of my most recent songs and musical collaborations that cross over some diverse styles. I’m releasing them as a maxi-EP or a mini-LP, depending on whether you’re glass half-full or half-empty, under the title Genre Fluid for the bargain-bin price of $5 or a dollar each if you want each song separately.

AI generated album cover. Surrreal desert scene with what looks like a long-haired man in a suit standing on a rock starting at an enormous shiny vinyl album in front of which are various contraptions and devices that resemble some kind of radio-punk, as opposed to steam-punk drumkit. In the foreground is a silver and black orb with wires and to the right of that a silvery blob that could almost be a discus of solid mercury. Perhaps if it were liquid that would fit with the genre fluid idea...
AI generated album art – surreal desert scene

It’s Not Our Time for the Sea is the most recent of the collection with lyrics by Andrea Thomson (from C5 the band) and me. It’s about the abusive relationship between man and Mother Earth, a mish-mash of prog, pop, funk, rock and dare I say it hip-hop and gospel.

My Light, My Sky is about displaced friendships with lyrics by yours truly and Simon Oliver, whom you may know from Clive-upon-Sea’s Fragments album, which was produced by yours truly. This song is a largely percussion-free acoustic singer-songwriter tune, a bit of a Floydian slip if you ask me with some pedal steel guitar suggested by long-time Sciencebase online friend Steelfolk, aka Dr Keith Walker.

Ticking Clocks kicks off like a prog rock song but flips into lounge lizard jazz with Adam Stewart from C5 the Band on drums and synth. It’s lyrically a kind of sequel to She’s Leaving Home.

Take the Waters was inspired by a conversation with Rachel another member of our choir The TyrannoChorus. The track is another singer-songwriter thing with pseudo-choral harmonies, maybe next time I’ll bring the choir together for my songs.

Old Nick is Quick is an uptempo punky little number about getting away with it, or not, as the case may be.

Festival Friends are Cool as Folk is a fingerstyle guitar instrumental improvised after I took part in a guitar workshop with Nigel Wearne.

Here’s that link again – Genre Fluid, the max-EP, or mini-LP.

Alternative album cover for Genre Fluid. AI generated shows an acoustic guitar floating downstream in a ravine towards the sun
Alternative album cover – guitar floating on a river in a rocky gorge

It’s not our time for the sea – a song

Andrea T from C5 the band, mentioned in passing that she’d had a dream where she wrote a song, but she could only remember the following line – “She said, it’s not my time for the sea”.

AI generative artwork based on a prompt asking for forest fires and the sea in the style of Hipgnosis
Hipgnosis-style generative art cover

Well, having worked with co-founder and erstwhile member of our Arts Night collective Simon Oliver on a song last week (My Light, My Sky), I felt like I was on a roll and came up with some lyrics to hang around Andrea’s phrase. The words evolved over the course of a couple of days with input from Andrea as well as a beautiful additional verse from her.

I then set about pulling together some music using various loops and adding my own bass playing, lead guitar, acoustic intro, and vocals. You can think of the final song as being about an abusive relationship, where humanity is the abuser and Mother Earth is the victim.

It’s definitely a genre fluid song – starts with a pseudoclassical figure on my Taylor acoustic guitar, goes into a proggie-folk section, which builds to me playing some heavy Lifesonesque guitar on an Ibanez electric, then breaks down into a sort of Radiohead meet The Lotus Eaters mid-section before heading into funk-rock with a splash of gospel, leaning into a bit of hip-hop with a nod to Adamski and Seal via Chic and George Benson. My bass part nods knowingly to The Temptations’ song My Girl. Did I already say it was genre fluid?

It’s not our time for the sea

You’ll never know what hit you
You’ll only bear the scars
You’ll never find the peace in you
just staring at the stars

Beyond the pain there’s yearning
to chase away the night
The futile hope of turning
the bending of the light

I’ll tell you what your problem is
You never can concede
Give and take will always fail
when there is wanton greed

You’ve got to find a shelter
in your happy place
It’s not about your pride
it’s not about saving face

We walked through barren fields
We saw the forest fires
We raised up all our wicker men
The silhouetted pyres

We felt the rising of the tide
Our homes we had to flee
She said “The world will always turn
but it’s not my time for the sea”

They say that water always wins
but that’s the nature of the game
The seasons are eliding
yet the land can still reclaim
She said ‘Those scars will heal with time
as dust returns to earth’
The sea remains but still
we chase the hope of our re-birth

Barefoot in the water seems a lesson out of class
Tread carefully now, there may well be a little broken glass
If the pressure’s on the rise, the change could crush our pride
And in the end, my dear, we could always say that we all tried

Birders versus Toggers

Broadly speaking, birders are avian enthusiasts, people interesting in seeing birds. Sometimes birders are twitchers, they like to see a bird so they can “tick” that species off a list, often it involves travelling far from their patch to see a species new to them. Twitchers are often not birders, they’re more akin to collectors, but aren’t necessarily interested in the birds per se. Then there are people with cameras who are also birders, twitchers, or both. Birders and twitchers often refer to these birding photographers as toggers, it’s a rather derogatory word.

Now, if a bird of interest shows up on a patch, the Short-eared Owl for instance, several of which we see out on the Cambridgeshire Fens in winter, then birders, twitchers, and toggers, and every permutation thereof, will generally hear about it and head for the patch, to get a look at the bird through their binoculars, and scopes, to tick their list, and to get that perfect photo.

Often the groups overlap, especially on a small patch, or where there’s a good vantage point. There’s often some sneering among the snobbish members of whichever group who see their particular hobby as being the more righteous.

None of these hobbies have any real claim to righteousness, all of us who indulge are impinging in some way on the wild patch that the birds have chosen to inhabit however temporarily. The presence of humans may well be disrupting the birds’ normal behaviour. So, it’s interesting to hear different people complain about the presence of members of the other groups of enthusiasts if they perceive the activity of the others as being more detrimental to the birds and the environment than their own activity. There is an argument to say that people should leave the wild to the wildlife.

One comment I read on a birding group recently was lamenting the number of people who had turned up at one of our local Cambridgeshire Fens to see and photograph the aforementioned Short-eared Owls (Shorties or SEOs). They said, apparently in all seriousness while lugging their scope up and down the Fen, that all these toggers running around were agitating the birds and making the place like a theme park. They asked the question: “How many photos of one bird do they need?”

Well, without getting into the art and craft of bird photography and why you might need to take more than one photograph, I wonder how they perceive their own position in terms of simply looking at the bird…surely the question might be asked of them “How many times do you need to look at one bird?”

Anyway, I personally feel that I’m just a bird enthusiast with a camera. I don’t think of myself as a proper birder, I don’t know enough. I’m not a twitcher, I’ve rarely “twitched” a species (successfully the European Roller that turned up not far from here, the European Bee-eaters in Norfolk when we were visiting, and the Black-browed Albatross that we failed to see at Bempton Cliffs). And, what photographer would call themselves a “togger”?

Enthusiasts and hobbyists of all creeds need to get over themselves, get over their self-righteousness. They need to not start this kind of argument on a public forum for the sake of assuaging what is probably their own guilt about their hobby and whether it is ethical to impinge on the wild in the first place.

We should all take more care to minimise any detrimental impact we have on wildlife and the environment. And, we should all take care to minimise our snarky comments, which can lead to bad feeling between different factions within a wider community that are to all intents and purposes seeking the same positive satisfaction from their interaction with nature.

 

My Light, My Sky – AI artwork for a song

I realise there’s a lot of ongoing debate regarding generative AI tools, especially those that have putatively been trained on copyright material without permission from the creators. It’s generally impossible to know what work has been used as source data for the likes of Dall-E, ChatGPT, and MidJourney etc, unless you work in their back office, presumably. However, I do know that some of my copyright material, books, potentially website content, photos, and perhaps even some of my music, will have been used to train various AIs over the last few years.

AI generated artwork with sullen sky, mountains, a central tree and a weird river
AI-generated artwork with sullen sky, mountains, a central tree and a weird river

I think there needs to be some kind of permission system in place and a royalty/payback system to compensate artists and creators for the use of the output as training data. I suspect that horse has bolted, as it were, and neither of those things will come to pass. Meanwhile, I feel that given that a lot of my content is likely to have been used to train AIs, I’m almost justified in clawing something back from those AIs.

In this case, I have used a couple of tools to generate an image as artwork for my latest song, My Light, My Sky, the origins of which and the development thereof I mentioned here recently.

First, I asked ChatGPT to come up with a prompt for an image AI to help me generate some Hipgnosis-type artwork for my song. My initial prompt to ChatGPT told it to “act as an expert in album artwork” and to “give me a prompt to use with a generative AI for creating images”. I added the lyrics from my song as part of the initial prompt and this is what ChatGPT came back with:

Generate an album cover in the style of Hipgnosis that captures the essence of a journey, the intertwining elements of water, dreams, and loss. Incorporate surreal and symbolic imagery such as raindrops turning into streams, rivers flowing to the sea, and scenes of introspection. Use a color palette that conveys both the beauty and melancholy of the lyrics. Ensure that the cover evokes a sense of mystery, emotion, and the passage of time. Consider including elements like shattered dreams, reflections, and a connection to the sea as central motifs.

I then used that prompt in Img2Go’s AI Creator Studio to get it to produce an appropriate image to which I could add the song title and my name. It looks rather evocative and Hipgnosis-like although that tree that looks like a Cedar of Lebanon or a chink of broccoli is reminiscent of Yes album artist Roger Dean.

I ran the AI a second time and got a similarly evocative image, but without the tree. I imagined this one as the back of the record sleeve for my putative 7-inch. I added the lyrics to the graphic:

A couple more iterations with some minor tweaks to the prompt that ChatGPT had given me generated some amusing images with silhouetted figures. In one, a woman is seen standing up to her waist in water and carrying an umbrella. This is quite a nice idea for an album cover…very Hipgnosis, very Magritte. The ludicrous notion of being soaked up to the waist but protecting one’s upper half from the rain with an umbrella! The album might have been entitled “Staying Dry” or “Underwater” or something…

Another version of the same prompt, simply adding the word umbrella to the end generated this:

 

 

Chronic collaboration – My Light, My Sky – a song

TL:DR – Latest song from David Bradley out now on BandCamp, original lyrical inspiration from Clive-upon-Sea: My Light, My Sky.


I’ve worked with Simon Oliver (Clive-upon-Sea) on various musical collaborations since April 2012. At that time, we set up what we hoped (in retrospect) would be a Bowie-style Arts Night. It was very successful with a lot of people passing through the doors over the years.

One of the concepts was to pick a discussion topic and write a song or a poem, or create an image for the next session. We wrote a lot of songs in the first few years. Eventually, we played a few gigs, I produced and played on Simon’s album, Fragments, (available on CD and from BandCamp). It was also the Arts Night that brought together the wonderful and talented people with whom I formed C5 the band.

One thing that Simon/Clive and I had never done was to write a song together. I’ve been struggling to find lyrical inspiration this year, although I did release a 4-track EP earlier in the year. I’ve been pestering Simon for years to offer me some lyrics. He having left the area and thus the Arts Night during the first year of covid, Simon felt it was time to say something lyrically about separated friends.

“I deliberately wrote you something about the sea because half your songs seem to reference it!” he told me, adding “And I wanted to do something that was yours rather than shoehorn my own lyrics into your headspace.”

If that was Simon’s intention, then the lyrics I added were kind of a riposte as a lot of his own songs are about faith and relationships and I wanted to add some of that to the mix, as it were.

The untitled song struck a chord. It’s too easy to watch the years roll by and grieve for friendships, relationships, lost faith…I typed up his lyrics and added a few words of my own. Strung some chords together on guitar and recorded a very rough-and-ready demo. I gave it the title My Light.

I then set about recording it properly. One thing I often struggle with is creating a song without singing and playing guitar to lay down what they call a 1+1. This means the vocal and guitar track are all in the same sound file and cannot be manipulated individually. Thankfully, there’s an AI tool that lets you separate a vocal from other instruments, they used something similar for that “new” John Lennon song that’s been in the news. So once I had a solid demo, I used the AI to tease apart my voice from my guitar. I could then treat the guitar sound to make it brighter and if I’d wanted to, the same with the vocal. In the end, I re-recorded the vocal completely because the lyrics had matured as time went on.

I added some harmonies and did a rough mix. Then added some synth strings and piano to give it more texture. The closing section would lend itself to a full gospel choir, but I don’t have one to hand at the moment, so I just overdubbed my voice, a couple of times, added some handclaps and some finger clicks and a kick and snare.

You can probably hear some clicking in the opening of the song, computer keyboard sounds as I set up my sound-recording software, a familiar and ever-present noise in the pre-edited music files from endless recording sessions. I thought I’d leave them in at this point in the song as an aural reminiscence of our recording sessions. [UPDATE: I’ve muted those noises in the latest version of the “final” mix.]

There are a few other proggie bits in this song. A little SOS-type figure that plays over the guitar solo is something that countless songs from Bowie to Glen Campbell to The Supremes used and I’ve written about morse code in music before. It seemed apt to use it here given the theme of the sea and emotional rescue. The guitar solo itself is a little pastiche of the bass riff from the second half of Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain. Simon has always said that he wouldn’t come to see C5 the band live until we add The Chain to our repertoire. We’ve not risked it live yet. There’s also some reverse-reverb on my vocal for opening bar of one of the choruses, which music tech heads might recognise from various songs such as Rush’s Hyperspace (Part ii of Natural Science) and White Buffalo by Crown Lands.

There’s a little reminiscence of the song I do like to be beside the seaside, which is a personal feeling, having been brought up on the coast, I found myself landlocked thereafter while townie Simon has ended up living near the coast.

Once the pseudo-gospel concludes, there’s a little spoof of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here. It’s a joke between us that he was too crazy to be in C5 the band, it’s not true, but it’s an interesting allusion. At the end of that, I whisper “Hello Syd” and you then hear Simon say “Okay, let’s do this!” which was a snippet I pulled from one of the recording sessions we did earlier in the year for his new mini-LP.

The lyrics have evolved as I’ve worked on the song. I’d say Verse 1 is pretty much as he wrote it. It seems to be about friends separated by circumstances and the sea. I added Verse 2 to allude to feelings of grief and how difficult it can be to allow oneself permission to grieve, especially for anyone whose spiritual faith has been rocked. I added Verse 3 to allude to the impact of change on a relationship. Verse 4 then gives the song some kind of resolution, with acceptance and release, and the friend/brother saving the protagonist. You can think of it as saviour or simply a brotherly friend, as in Bobby Scott and Bob Russell sense of the word, He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother. I was also perhaps picturing St Christopher walking through the waves, carrying a child.

Chords

Verses: FM7/A – CM11 – E7s4 – A

Pre-chorus: Em – A – FM7/A – Em11 – A

Chorus: A – FM7/A – Em – A

Coda: Em – A

Simon’s original finale talked of a beautiful sky, a beautiful light. And brings the seemingly resolved song back down to earth, suggesting that although there is support and friendship, ultimately there are things that cannot be reconciled. Usually, a gospel ending in a pop song, think Blur’s Tender or Elbow’s One Day Like This, will be an uplifting finale. While the end of our song sounds uplifting, the lyrics do perhaps tell another tale.

Simon has also built his own version of the song and when he next visits, we will record it from scratch with him on guitar and vocals…