Music Studio Blog – Music & Life by Michael Burns

So, work was.. bearable today, mainly due to popping out for a coffee / chat for lunch with Vicky, a girl from work I’ve gotten to know pretty well over the last couple of weeks.

I didn’t really have any plans for the night, but decided on the way home that I’d record some new material for the album. In the process of re-tuning my acoustic, I manage to snap the G-string [doh!]. I consider starting a new project in Cubase, something percussive that I can write to on a later date (once I get a new string :p), but really don’t feel like sitting infront of the computer all night.. by this point I realise the only plan I had is now dead.

I feel restless, so consider cooking something for tea. I realise that due to a holiday later this week to Morocco, I haven’t placed an order with Tesco online to save throwing everything out the day I leave, and hence have no food in the house. I consider popping out and buying some salmon, but I don’t really feel like driving.

I decide I’ll go for a jog. Not a long one like, maybe 30 mins or so. I grab my stuff from my gym bag, get changed, grab my iPod, tune into ‘James Holden – The Idiots Are Winning‘, and leave the house to start warming up.

Immediately I’m hit with the smell of horse manure. Excellent.

I’m heading for the nearest canal, about 10 mins away from my house. 6-7 minutes into the jog, I cross a busy dual carriage way (Birmingham New Road), and head towards a small roundabout.

As I approach the roundabout I hear a muffled voice shouting something. I realise there’s a car approaching me, slowing down for the junction with the window down. As the car gets closer, I see a bald man, middle aged, doing the ‘wanker’ hand signal. He shouts the word “waaaaankeeeeeeeeer” and drives off.

It wasn’t until I crossed the road and the car had driven off way up the road that I realised “hey, maybe that aimed at me?”.. after all, I was on my own, and he did appear to be looking at me when he shouted the “waaaaankeeeeeeeeer” remark. I feel my blood start to boil, but I let it go. He’s in a box that has wheels powered by a motor – I’m on my legs, that have shoes powered by what little lunch I had today.

Suddenly I’m hit with that sweet smell of fresh cut grass. I feel euphoric for a moment, like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I pick up speed a little and decide I’ll take a different route today.

I approach the canal and take a left instead of the usual right. I have no idea where I’ll end up, and to be honest I couldn’t care less. Immediately off the roadside exit to the canal, I’m fighting nettles, brambles, raging trees and a muddy path. It feels like I’m taking a route that nobody has tread for years. I finally make it onto the canal side, and resume normal pace.

It’s started to rain lightly, actually, it’s been like this since I started out, but it seems to have gotten a little heavier in the last minute or so.

I see a tunnel in the distance… it looks long, but I decide I’ll take that route. As I enter the tunnel, I realise how long the tunnel is (probably about 1000 yds or so). A railing has appeared beside me, put there to stop people falling in, I think to myself “aah, that’s a good idea” and carry on.

200 yards into the tunnel the hand railing has moved in towards me about 2 feet, and it hasn’t left me much room to run. By this point I can’t see more than 1 or 2 feet infront of me. In the distance, a burning white light shines, being the other end of the tunnel. I realise that between me and that dot of light, there is nothing but black, wet, rat-infested, sewage-scented darkness. I almost loose my footing on a raised cobble and consider my chances of making it through without falling over something [a rat, or perhaps a human body], or falling into the canal [and swimming with rats, and perhaps human bodies].

I turn back, and immediately feel like there’s somebody chasing me. I sprint towards the light at what feels like a superhero speed. I reach the end [beginning] of the tunnel, I feel about 9 years old at this point and start laughing to myself. “That felt great!” I thought. I couldn’t remember the last time I was chased by someone and had to run away!

I don’t want to head back already, so I turn around to face the “scary tunnel”, and notice some old wooden steps going up and over it. “Excellent, I’ll run up those guys” I pant. As I get to the top of what feels like a mountain of steps, I can’t help but feel like Rocky.

I contemplate screaming “aaaaiidreiiiaaiaaanannnn” but figure I’d look a bit daft, so carry on running.

The rain has gotten heavier, and now I’m hit with the smell of warm tarmac that you get when it’s warm and raining. Oddly, I love that smell, so feel another lift of energy and pick up the pace. I realise I’ve pretty much done a full circle, and have ended up close to the “wanker man in car”. I suddenly feel angst. “What was his issue?” I think, my blood boils again. “What the f*ck was his issue?!” I think again, but in a more aggressive tone.

I decide I’m going to track him down. I know he was a man. I know he had a wrist, with which he actively showed me a “wanker” jesture. I’m very confident he was driving a silver 4×4 car of some sorts, and I’m fairly certain it had 4 wheels! “Right, I’m onto this bastard” I think. I’m going to hound him down and…. beat him?.

I’ve now ran half way through the little town he drove into. I’m focused, I’m angry, I’m running, and I’m tiring by the minute! At this moment I recall “silver” being quite a popular colour for a car. I approach the end of the town and feel both relieved and furious that I didn’t find him, but I feel good that I sought revenge and didn’t back down.

I’m wet, a little out of breath, and ready to head back home. The rain is still coming down, and the faint smell of manure begins to linger in the air again.