Flip flops

My entire body is coated in a very fine, misty film of salt water! PK and I have been slaving away all day in his loft, which may well be the hottest place on earth at the moment. 

This Pepys Motet is officially a monster! We've spent the entire day fine-tuning the rhythmic aspect of the piece, which is a pretty hefty undertaking when dealing with 20 singers, each singing a unique vocal line. The movement is painstakingly slow, which means there's plenty of scope for people singing just slightly out of time with one another, particularly when interpreting triplets!

At one point in the mid-afternoon, when we realised we'd spent 4 hours working through the first minute of music, I went into a mini-meltdown. I genuinely felt like I'd finally met my musical Waterloo (cue song.) It's such an intricate and complicated piece of music and each note recorded seems to require some form of detailed attention. 

Pep-talks followed from PK, Nathan and latterly Julie Clare, and I left the studio feeling a lot happier, realising that we've been listening to everything in its rawest form. No reverb. No after-effects. No equalising. When this stage is complete, PK can go away with his sonic chamois leather and give everything a nice polish! Everything sounds better with reverb! 

So, I find myself returning to Fiona's house tonight, Siegfried Sassoon diary in hand, contemplating a fourth day on the motet, focussing on the other movement. I hardly dare to imagine what it will sound like. I'm not sure how much work we did on it last week, but it was considerably less than we did on the movement we've recently been pulling apart!

Still, there are worse places to be during a heatwave than Hove, Actually. The air is clean, the light is syrupy, and the people in these parts go about life at a very different pace. Cars take longer to turn out of junctions, shoppers take hours at supermarket tills finding the exact change in their wallets, people amble through the streets looking both cool and cool! Flip flops are even cool... Mobile phone receptions come and go, and no one cares. The Co-op has run out of milk and bread. Ditto.

I had breakfast on the beach. A plate of beans on toast and a lovely cup of tea. The air was warm. There was a light breeze. The early morning sun was glinting majestically on the mirrored surface of the calm sea. I was forced to squint whilst looking at it. People around me chatted about stuff that didn't matter, the sorts of conversations you have when you're not worrying about a list of things which needed to be done yesterday. 

I could certainly imagine myself living here, although I'd feel a little disloyal to Hampstead Heath! 

We're told the heat-wave is only going to intensify next week, with temperatures destined to break the records set in 2003 (which incidentally is mentioned in the oratorio which is being performed by the Fleet Singers on Saturday night!)

Songs About The Weather. 7pm. St Anne's Church, Highgate!

#effortlesssegueintoplug

#saynomore

#howmanyofmyreadersunderstandhashtagging?

This train to Hove literally stops everywhere. I mean, where or what is Fishergate other than a road in the City of London? And what the hell is Aldringdon? Did it even exist before I got on this train? Will it ever exist again? Am I dreaming? Do you think I could get the driver to take me straight to Fiona's flat?