Seb Palmer

It’s 5.30 am, and I’ve woken up. At least I got off to sleep last night, and without the help of pills (zopiclone).

My mind is active. And no surprise, really. As, sans car, I’m also without income. And as I’m already heavily in debt, that creates anxiety, bordering on panic.

The main thrust of this post is a realisation, or admission: I’m going to have to give up on my musical dreams. At least for the time being. It’s a matter of survival.

I’m going to have try and sell near enough everything and anything that I own, musically speaking, to raise money, so we don’t lose our home.

And since I’m awake now, I’m going to start by doing something very unusual for me; instead of laying in, and sleeping till late – I’m always exhausted – I’m going to get up, and – I hope? – start selling all (or most) of my music gear.

I’m hoping this will help on multiple fronts and levels: bringing in money, de-cluttering, simplifying my life, and reducing stress. I hope I’m doing the right thing?

This new madness starts with getting up now – it’s just coming up to 6am – and going to the Tesco Metro, for bacon and bread rolls. Being up and dressed, with a freshly made bacon butty inside me, might enable me to make a start on this new course…

Oh, and a dose of one of Joe Wicks’ senior workouts is also called for. But that can wait till after breakfast.

Some time later…

Well, as the bacon butty pics attest to, I did get up, and make breakfast. Teresa and I then played three rounds of rummy. Then I fell asleep. It’d now 9.45 am. And I’ve just spoken to Copart, about the collection/retention, etc, of Ruby.

I’ll get up now. For the second time. And make a start on a few of the planned things I need to get busy doing. First a trip to local charity shops with a load of stuff, to start the de-cluttering. I’ll also pick up a few prints I’ve had done at March Stationary & Print.

Then I’ll start advertising various bit of music gear, and tidying various parts of our home. Whilst I await further news re the car and my insurance payout.

With the time approaching 11 am, after a second trip to the High Street, I’ve now got rid of just shy of 40 CDs. Mostly modern pop stuff, that I’d gotten via Freecycle (with a view to potential use in drum lessons).

I’ve kept just two or three discs from this collection. Teresa took about ten, to take to her workplace. So that’s me shot of about 50 CDs that have really just been cluttering up the place. I gave them to the Cancer Research shop, next door to March Stationary & Print.

I hope they sell, and raise a few bob for a worthy cause…

* I love my cue-cards. It might be tragic of me, but I really don’t care anymore. Whatever works. I’m planning to double the pack size, with a load more helpful affirmations and admonitions, etc. Plus I have a couple of other folk wanting sets. Recently I’ve been picking a card, semi-randomly, as my ‘card for the day’; something to meditate upon. ‘Trust Yourself’ is todays…

Even later…

Well, it’s just gone 8 pm. Today has not been an easy day, psychologically. I think the car crash finally hit me, so to speak, emotionally. I got a bit tearful around dinner time. Teresa cooked a fab pasta dish. Which helped.

And finally, just before sitting down to type this ‘end of the day’ addition, we did our 10 minute workout. It’s amazing how effectively it combats depression. I pretty much always feel a noticeable degree of benefit, in terms of a mood upturn.

Thankyou, Joe Wicks, and thanks to my body for the endorphins. I really need to learn to put this connection to more/better use. Maybe substitute my mooning daydreams for a bit of P.E.?

Went back to the car today. To check we’d got all our personal stuff out, and take some photos for the insurers. Po’ Ruby! Only had her a little shy of a year. I was expecting we’d run her for 5-10 years.

The driver’s airbag deployed full in my face. It was all so quick, it was over in an instant. After which I at stunned for a while.

The front of the car had, as I guess it’s designed to – thank goodness – absorbed the impact. I say thank goodness. It killed the car. The engine wouldn’t start, when I tried it, today. But mayhap it saved me?

The plastic grill with the Ford logo has been punched in, behind the radiator! The lights are shattered, and all over the shop.

Whatever they make the body of, some cheap brittle plastic, by the looks of it, it shatters very easily and readily.

We pass St Peter’s, in March, all the time. But we’ve never stopped to look inside. Until today. It’s not as prettily interesting as St Wendreda’s, which is down the road a piece.

When we went in an old fella was playing an electric organ – not the ‘real‘/old organ (that was located elsewhere – which was fed through big speakers mounted high on the wall. It wasn’t a bad simulacrum of the real thing. Had I not seen that it wasn’t the real deal, I might not have twigged.

It’s funny, three of he churches I’ve visited recently have had folk in them being musical. Which is great, I think. Two organists and a small choir. good that the buildings are being used. And the organ music really helps with the atmos’.

There’s a fair bit of stained glass. But it all looks fairly modern, ie 19th C. or newer. And isn’t particularly striking. Nonetheless, I’ve gone round snapping most of it.

There are several windows dedicated to the passing of folk one guesses were fairly well to do local parishioners. And most of the dates are late 1800s or more frequently early 1900s. Which, at an edumacated guess, puts most of this glasswork in an early twentieth century frame.

Bog standard baby Jesu scenes dominate.

These windows are all well executed, if a little dull.

It’s a big ol’ building. But rather heavy set and lumpen. Poss akin in that respect to much parochial town buildings ov Victorian vintage, which I’m guessing this is?

On the way out I spotted the four small lights pictured above. These little windows seem to be dedicated to Matt, Mark, Luke n’ Ron… we, I mean John. Or the ‘Four Evangelists’, as they’re sometimes known. Whose collected writings are sometimes referred to shorthand as The Gospels!

Anyway, there it is… St Peter’s.

I needed to finish off the smoked haddock, that I bought for the kedgeree I made when Pat was staying over, recently.

So I made another, but smaller, kedgeree. Just for Teresa and I, for lunch. More or less exactly the same as the last one. Only this time with the addition of some fried onions.

The eggs are boiled for 6 mins, which is perfect for a set white and a soft but not a runny yolk. My egg has a strange little spot, in the white!

I’d bought an alcohol free Erdinger Weissbier, the evening that Ruby met her sorry fate. Hadn’t felt like having that once we’d finally got home, on that awful evening.

So we shared it over this lunch. And it went pretty well with the grub. Very nice!

Today had been going pretty well: I’d signed some legal documents that I’d been procrastinating over for a while, and had them witnessed. I also did a delivery shift. And, best of all, I’d cooked a paella, to give Teresa a night or two off cooking chores.

Teresa and I communicated via WhatsApp to arrange that I’d collect her from the train station. But, en-route to pick her up, I was involved in a three car collision, at a pedestrian crossing. It happened so quickly – I stabbed at the brakes, and my foot slipped off the pedal – it was over in seconds.

And I immediately went into shock. The airbags had gone off in my face. That weird smell they are said to have… well, now I know what people are on about. There was also a high pitched noise, following immediately upon impact. I didn’t know if it was inside my head, or coming from the car!?

Reflecting on it all now, and the layout of the road/position of the cars, I’m assuming that the first car stopped at the pedestrian crossing, causing the second car to brake suddenly. By the time I’d spotted this and reacted – especially with my foot slipping off the pedal – it was too late.

I got a call from one of the other drivers’ insurance firms, looking for my version of events. I was in the bath, trying to come down from the shock effects. I told them it wasn’t the best time to talk!

I have to count my lucky stars I wasn’t injured. At least, I hope I’m not hurt? I don’t feel any pain anywhere? Considering the state Ruby wound up in; her front end all crunched up, engine dead, etc, I’m relieved and surprised.

The trouble with this sort of event – how it happens in a split second, and the effects of shock, etc. – is that it all becomes a blur: I know my foot slipped off the brake pedal; did it also land on the accelerator?

Who was at fault? I should’ve been able to stop in time. Had my foot not slipped, would I have? Was the force of the impact caused by my right foot thumping down, accidentally, on the accelerator? Or just due to my basic speed, when I saw the car in front braking?

I was breathalysed at the scene, by a police man. The picture above is the result. I’m glad I’m tee-total these days.

I just hope I can get the car recovered/disposed of quickly and easily, and a new car, ASAP. As my day to day livelihood with Amazon depends on having working wheels.

It’s great to see/hear that the cult following Arthur Verocai’s self-titled 1972 album garnered, over time, gave the artist a second wind, so to speak.

He released Encore, on UK label Far Out (as well as several other recordings, in his native Brazil), in 2007, and has been able to take his music live, around the world.

Verocai is now 78. I wonder if I’ll get to experience his music live? I recently saw Marcos Valle, in London, on his ‘80th Birthday’ World Tour! So you never know…

As I type this, I’m listening to tracks from No Voo do Urubu, a 2016 release from Verocai. The first thing that struck me was how great an arranger he is. So far so good.

The second thing was that it sounds as if the drums on this recording might be programmed. Less good! But the material? The music? It’s really very good. Excellent in fact. It’s not too surprising that he’s evolved somewhat, in the intervening 45 years. But there’s a spirit or character that remains consistent, and very groovy/appealing.

I was expecting to be disappointed, to be honest. And – aside from the robot drums – I’m not. Rather the opposite. I’ll have to check out Encore as well. My worry there is compounded a little by my experience with Marcos Valle recordings on Far Out, which, whilst very, very good, don’t quite have the magic of his best ‘60s and ‘70s stuff.

I’ve been having a spate of ‘two church’ days. Which is great.

I keep passing this magnificent edifice, at Walpole St Peter’s. Most times I’m unable to stop. Today, however, I stopped and had a little wander around the back end. Where there’s this odd little underpass, or passage.

The keen eye might also spot metal rings mounted in the walls on the right hand side. No idea what they might have been for? One automatically things of tethering horses. But the discs is tiny, and quite low ceilinged.

And then, later in the day, St Edmund’s, Downham Market. Both of these are churches I’ve been to before. But in both instances I’m finding new aspects.

There was a young guy playing organ in St Edmund’s today. So the church was open. I wandered around again, enjoying the stained glass, the atmos’, and the organ.

But today I mostly snapped the environs. Starting atop the hill, and wandering off towards the cemetery areas.

The end of the pathway leading away from the church and cemeteries, towards a recreational area. Looking back towards the church.

I absolutely adore this album. And I can’t quite believe I haven’t already posted on it!?

For now, most likely, this will just be a short piece, as I listen to it on my peregrinations, over a few days. For a longer read about the album, written by a Brazilian, try this.

The first thing to note is that this is one for those who may occasionally feel less can indeed be a lot more. For me this penchant for a certain kind of spare pared down vibe may well have been started, or ‘seeded’ (?), by a cassette of country folk, with a decidedly jazzy tinge, I encountered in my childhood. Read more about that elsewhere.

Another very big influence, in a similar direction, was seeing the Bruce Weber film, Let’s Get Lost, in my late teens. This beautiful Chet Baker biopic deepened my love for certain veins of mellow melancholic minimalism.

And so it is that my favourite recordings – so far, at any rate – of, for example, Toquinho & Vinicius [de Moraes], are not their big pizazzy productions, but the rarer occasions, when it’s just the two of them. For example their 1975 album O Poeta e o Vialao. Read more about that here.

Getting back to Dez Anos Depois (Ten Years Before)… The first thing to note is that it’s a double-album, and it was recorded ‘in exile’, in France.

Disc one is the pared down minimalist stuff that absolutely slays me. And is very heavily reliant on Jobim bossas. Whilst disc two is more a ‘full on production’, with a more diverse range of composers, and an equally broader sonic palette, utilising a range of varied accompaniments, from strings and woodwinds, to bass, drums and percussion.

I’m highly tempted to give this beautiful album the six stars I occasionally award to stuff that really blows my socks off. Hmm!? I’m also tempted to get it on vinyl, for the full gatefold experience.

The first record is essentially just Nara’s vocal and guitar, with very minimal backing from Tuca, another Brazilian lady, also in exile in France.

A lesbian, prone to being overweight, Tuca’s life was tragically cut short as a result of her trying, with the ‘help’ of an unscrupulous quack, to lose weight. She was clearly also a terrific musician. How sad the world can be, sometimes. But, on the positive side, she contributes wonderfully to this sublime recording. More about Tuca below.

Tuca had a couple of albums released under her own name, in the mid to late sixties. But by ‘69 she was feeling alienated from Brazil, as it was changing under the military dictatorship of those years. So she moved to France.

In France, she wound up doing the musical arrangements and contributing guitar, not just to Nara’s beautiful album, but also for the Francois Hardy album, La Question.

* This photo shows Tuca and Airto performing at the Porta Estandarte 1966 Festival Nacional de Musica Popular (TV Excelsior), where they came first in a competition.

I’m not quite sure how I stumbled upon these guys, but Uncle Walt’s Band, are an interesting discovery. They no longer exist, chiefly because two thirds of the group are deceased. But the do now have a website!

I think I must’ve found them exploring the Omnivore record label website. Omnivore released the Yester/Henske Farewell Aldebaran album (and some other obscure Yester material). Anyhoo, having discovered Uncle Walt’s Band, I’m now a fan. And I’ll be exploring their output in due course.

For now, this is a fave:

Lyle Lovett is a massive fan of these guys. And I can totally get why. But I also discovered that they had been championed, early on, by Willis Alan Ramsey, also a new name to me. He had a star studded debut out in 1972, which I’m checking out.

Around that time he encountered Uncle Walt’s Band, persuading them to relocate to Nashville, and trying to helm an album with them. This didn’t come off, so they moved back to (?), and recorded their own debut LP, Blame It On The Bossa Nova.

This latter has been reissued on the excellent Ominvire label, remastered, with lots of bonus material. I just ordered a brand new copy off Amazon, for less than £5!

The histories of both Uncle Walt’s Band, and Willis Alan Ramsey, are rather odd and interesting. UWB never achieved they success they merited, eventually going their separate ways. Their leader, Walter (uncle?) ‘Walt’ Hyatt, was killed in a domestic US plane crash, aged just 46, in ‘91. Champ Hood died from cancer in 2001.

Only bassist David Ball remains. And his story is interesting; he had to pester his way into the group, originally a duo, just Wyatt and Hood. He was told – so I’ve heard online – to ‘come back when you can play [upright] bass’. A guitarist and singer in his own right, he nevertheless did just that. And joined the group as bassist and third voice.

His successful solo career sees him back on guitar and lead vocals, in a somewhat more ‘trad country’ line.

Something I feel compelled to add, in regard to Uncle Walt’s Band, is what a trio of beautiful men they are, or rather were. You’d have thunk this combo of great talent, fab voices, excellent songs, and good looks, would make them a shoo-in for music biz success. But, no… ‘twas not to be!

Last time I stopped to look at this church it was locked. Same again this time. But… after leaving the porch to look around outside, I heard a voice. Returning to the door, I found a lady had opened it.

There was a choir group inside who’d just finished a rehearsal, and were leaving. Could I look around? Yes. Fab!

Like most English churches that predate The Reformation, this one was vandalised at that time. With the result that the stained glass is, as is often the case, a hodge-podge of later additions/renewals. Many, here at St Andrew’s, in quite simple and basic style. Such as the above.

And, as a result of this post Refornation practice, some of the glass here is quite unusual, in places. Such as the above mix of plain grid functionality with ‘old-fashioned’ figuration.

The choir were practicing at the end of the nave, just to the right of the above partition. And they were exiting the church via a door at left, behind or through the curtain. This sort of Victorian or later addition, which you see a lot, creating extra ‘rooms’ in old churches, can look a bit clunky, aesthetically. But it’s easy to see why, from a practical point of view, it’s done so often.

The rather nice light above is hidden away somewhat in the ‘room’ created by the partitioning already referred to.

I can’t recall if the above is the altar or not. If it is, it’s remarkably plain! Almost austere.

Church roofs are usually worth a heavenwards glance. Even the plainer ones. Such is the case here.

I’m not sure when it became a normal practice, but a great many churches have screen-doors, in what look very clearly like later additions. I wonder what started this practice? Maybe church porches filling up with dead wind-blown leaves, at certain times of year?

Church windows are interesting from many points of view. One is that they reveal – by virtue of puncturing the skin of the building – the thickness of walls. Which tend, in older churches, to be be almost castle thick.

One last snap, as I return to the car. At which point it started to rain again.

There’s a sweet little ‘park’ type rest or picnic spot, adjoining the church. It’s just out of camera on the right, in the above photo. I think I might’ve even snapped it on a previous visit to this church? If so, I’ll link to it… yep, here it is.

Glad to revisit St. Andrew’s, and this time get a look around inside.