Brighton, England...27 May, 2010

I spent the morning mopping up many days of e-mail I'd left unattended and fooling around with a new tune that happily popped into my head. I cannot account for where these melodies come from, I've never been good at sitting down to specifically write. Instead, a piece of something drifts by when I'm least expecting it and my radar happens to be up. At that point I'll roll up my sleeves and begin crafting and so it was this morning. All was fueled by several cups of espresso courtesy of a machine in the room and Illy coffee.

I've had a few folks ask what guitar I use to practise with when on tour. It's a Fender Stratocaster that I play in the show. At the end of each night Tom Calcaterra my guitar tech zips it up in a gig bag and hands it to me as I walk off stage and into the waiting cars. From that point on it stays with me until I hand it back to him the following day at sound check. I don't have an amp in the room, simply play unplugged and there's enough sound comes off it to practise and write.

We left London mid-day for a drive to the seaside city of Brighton, complete with famous pier, hotels and fish and chips shops. Our usual gig, Brighton Centre was packed, the show relaxed and confident.

It was a swift drive back to London made all the better by a bottle of red wine and chicken salad sandwiches courtesy of catering. We arrived at the hotel where John, Mike and I decided to have a nightcap. We opted out of our hotel bar as a half dozen drinks was equal to a mortgage payment the previous night. Stopped in a couple of clubs up the street, all too noisy, then took a chance on the Royal Garden Hotel bar where the drinks were fine and the prices easier on the pocket book. There we bumped into a few musicians who work with John Maher who played Wembley Arena this evening, Robbie McIntosh being one. I've admired Robbie's playing for years as a studio musician and journeyman guitarist to best. Turns out the feeling was mutual and we had loads of experiences to talk about. By the time things began to wind down it was 3 in the morning and they'd shuttered the bar. A short walk back to our hotel and a bed never felt better.

So long,

Richard​