The rain drips and dances, obscuring the sunlight. January dribbles along into February as we wonder what the year will hold. Pete stretches from hibernation like a grumpy bear clutching first drafts of winter songs...we sit with tea and begin to let the songs take form. Letting them lead us back into the enjoyment of making music.
The 'Stolen Black Rose' Pete tells us, arrived on a bus, travelling back home from Swansea, damp, slightly drunk.....
....And we are begging you please, whilst down on your knees, whispering words that you think might apeas, inform your Gods of the passionate pleas, of a weary humanity eager for peace.
The song lingers as the kettle boils, and scary jane reaches for her offering of winter scribbles... And reworked songs. Night Dance is evolving...
Dim the lights, give back the dark, Let the foxes and the night dogs bark, come dance with no street lights, set free the creatures of the night...
This is our time of reflection and creation... These are the moments that the songs begin to push towards the light.
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