Last night I hung out in a bathroom for an hour with Andy, Kaine (sp?) and David from We Are The City. This sounds questionable. But we were finishing a song together. Strange thing is, I've never heard these guys' music, and they've never heard mine. So the song we've written doesn't sound like either of us. But that makes it cooler. It's called In A Minute (we all had to write a song based on this idea)- we'll tape it and make it a hit on youtube. Or whatever tube is going now. My lips are chapped, the air is dry up here. There are a million fun things to do, but I've barely done any of them because there's song to be written, blogs to be done, tweets to be twat. The balancing act between the creative and the business, always. I wish this were the old days where you could have someone take care of all your business, your fans, your bookings, your paperwork, your publicity, and then just spend your time being flowery and satirical, channeling the gods through your guitar pick or your vegetable garden or whatever. But this is the brave new world of music. D.I.Y. Wear 2 hats. We've had the bejesus scared out of us up here as regards record labels, that's for sure. Big labels were already evil marauding king lions who roared and protected their chunks of meat with bared teeth and jungle ferocity. Now, they are injured evil marauding king lions, bleeding out and desperate, devouring what grisly scraps they still sink their teeth into. And so we're running scared. And now we humble tunesters must learn to fend for ourselves. And learning we are. But it's overwhelming. Especially when you're a solo artist. There's hardly any time for art anymore. There's only time to learn to be a lion.

(And may I also mention again the impressive talent up here- last night Adaline was dazzling and ethereal, as always. Young Alexandra Maillot impressed everyone with her confident bubbliness and songwriting courage. Sweetheart rocked socks off. And the Painted Birds were majestic and larger than life. This shit is magical.)