Dave
`Fingers` Carver, veteran of more bands than you could shake
a magic stick at, was inevitably the butt of all the jokes. All bass guitarists
seem to have the ability to absorb even the cruellest of ego-damaging
quips. He was never seen without his jaws working overtime on a mess of
gum. He would hum constantly -- even during a take, seemingly oblivious
to the job in hand -- but focused and head down whilst the red light was
on. He snored at night, rattling the shingles and chasing away the sheep
that the other guys were counting.
With
the writing duties falling to Damien and Peter,
the pair found themselves locked away for two days easing out the compositions
a chord change at a time, a line at a time, until the song felt right
and ready to be slapped on the backside by the rest of the band. The songs
gasped their first breath of life as the red light blinked like a mono-eyed
mother. `Cry, baby, cry... Yer Daddies are here.
Back in Berkshire, England, Faye Lowe added her vocal touches to the musical concoctions.
In
just three weeks the lid was nailed down. The can was polished. The band
went their -- for now -- separate ways. The Morning Set:
five guys back from the coal-face, where songs and melody rule the day.
Where the taut strings of a guitar are like bird song. Where the fug of
a locked studio is fresh air to them. Where being in a band is like being
in the best gang in town.
Listen up! Yer going to be singing these songs forever!
