For the love of it
Location: The Bridal suite

Some of you are probably aware that we operate entirely on a hand-to-mouth basis, regularly throwing our meagre away on worthwhile trips and projects, and breaking even where possible. Our foreign excursions are organised in the main as 'cultural exchanges', and we reciprocate hospitality to our non-UK based comrades as a matter of principle (or expect the something like the same in return for ours). We have no booking agency, financial backing, advertising, pluggers, management, roadies, record company or funds to utilise; our equipment is in a perpetual state of disrepair; yours truly (mis)manages all such affairs as best as one can. A walk in the park, it rarely is; a labour of love it surely has to be.

The latest episode in our ongoing international arts development programme involved our good friends from Eire, the ever-beautiful Noland Folk, who we invited over for a long weekend of shows and associated frolics. Having already had them over last year (and having already played in their backyard - see previous entries), it was a real pleasure to have them back. Last Friday the 19th, and we safely installed the band and their companions, six in total, into our tiny one-bedroom flat here on Stamford Hill. (It's a long story, but it worked out. Thanks Ian for the loan of your flat as a temporary Bridal Suite).

Come evening, and we found ourselves in the familiar and friendly environs of The Plough in Walthamstow, a few miles east of our little urban village, and in the company of the ever affable and welcoming Russ, our promoter host for the evening. A leisurely soundcheck and a few drinks later and we were into our first Noland Folk show of the weekend; predictably gorgeous and appreciated to the full by an appeared-out-of-nowhere-with-seconds-to-spare audience. We ambled on a little while later, enjoying the freedom of playing for as long as we wished, after a few tightly-timed shows of late. New material, a good sound, and a lovely crowd ensured TBC

Hail, Mary's
Location: The Bridal Suite

Readers who are unfortunate enough to dwell on the very same collection of East Atlantic rocks as ourselves will empathise with a certain vitamin D-prived undercurrent pervading our little world presently, mourning the absence of another english summer and hoping for an planetary axis tilt to save us from ourselves. But at least we've played some fine shows lately.

After the fun we had in May and June playing festivals both local and far-flung, it was our pleasure to decamp (literally) to the Gloucestershire countryside last month, for the 2000 Trees Festival. With a full entourage convoying west, once again enjoying the Red Kite counting game in the process, we decided to spend the whole weekend there; hey, even megalomaniacs like Morning Bride like to 'connect with their audience' and 'get down with the kids' occasionally (and nothing to do with the fact we all fancied a bucolic booze-up far, far away from screaming sirens and kevlar vests).

So, Friday, and the storms came; and kept coming, again and again and again. Realising we'd once again under-estimated the season's ability to piss all over the proverbial bonfire (real ones would've been pointless without a petrol tanker on hand), we avoided cabin fever in our little tented community only by chance, singalongs and alcohol. Finally, come the late evening, wet and cold, our six-year-old comrade Frankie initiated a sun-spell in the gazebo, and miraculously, it worked. (Less good news for the gazebo, which flew away overnight).

Friday evening allowed several damp, cold, temporary ventures into the festival proper, and congregations of friends and acquaintances gathered around the bar-tent to lift the communal spirit; it worked, and much fun was had before a late crawl back through an ever-expanding sea of mud, and a distinctly cold night under canvas. Saturday, despite odd showers, was dominated by the sun, and Team Bride (or the Bridesmaids, of whatever other crass nickname we chose for our good people) made up for lost time, with the now molasses-like mudbath a minimal deterrent.

Somewhere in there, we played a show, and a full-on, celebratory knees-up it turned out to be; we performed in the Leaf Lounge, a large glorified tent with bails of hay along each side and a couple of yukka plants wilting in a corner (thus, 'Leaf Lounge'). After seeing various other acts during the day, we already knew it was the far superior stage of the two to be playing on - The main stage, almost unreachable through the mud, lacked The Leaf Lounge's atmosphere, intimacy and sense of occasion.

So, come early evening, and our 35 minutes flew by in a haze of audience singalongs and very, very lovely vibes. Sometimes playing before a few hundred people hell-bent on enjoying every second in a tent in the middle of nowhere can be the only place you want to be. Beyond that, well, it got progressively messier, in an awfully good-natured sense, of course; Saturday night turned into Sunday morning, the convoy fractured and drove on in finally unbroken sunshine. (We had the pleasure of a picnic at the Rollright Stones, a wonderful stone circle not too far out of the way, and a fine way to round off the trip).

Fast forward a few weeks, and the now annual N16 Fringe festival (oddly-named, as it's a fringe to nothing), our neighbourhood live music festival held over a long weekend in various local venues, this year in mid-August. We had the pleasure of not one, but two shows in truly beautiful, very appropriate surroundings; the two churches, positioned opposite each other, on the imaginatively-named hub of local activity, Stoke Newington Church Street.

Friday the 15th saw us play a fully-electric set in the 12th century, slightly crumbling, beautifully-decorated and musty-smelling St. Mary's Old Church; Saturday the 16th, and we played a semi-acoustic show (with no repetition in the set-lists) over in St. Mary's New Church, a cavernous, intimidating, cathedral-like building which could probably house every denomination in the borough with room to spare. Another pleasure for us, on the one hand because of the spine-tingling acoustics, and on the other because we were opening for the legendary Martin Carthy (who was good enough to watch our set, swap albums and spend some time with us afterwards).

So, despite the lack of sunshine, we've enjoyed a run of special shows this summer, and there are plenty more on the cards for the autumn and beyond; and the second album is taking shape, at least regarding which songs to record and how they'll flow together. More anon.

hot fun in the summertime
Location: The Bridal Suite

A comparatively warm, enjoyable month is behind us, dominated musically by five shows on home ground and abroad, of greatly differing natures. Two shows at Bardens Boudoir, a now well-known, flavour-of-the-month basement venue on the Dalston / Stoke Newington border (and five minutes walk from our soon-to-be-vacated abode), beginning with a headline slot at a showcase of local bands entitled 'Stokey Rocks' on the 5th. We played and sounded great, aided by a decent sound-system, a decent engineer and our warm and lovely audience.

Three days later and we found ourselves back in Clissold Park, our local open green space and summer home of breeding Common Pochards, fishing Common Terns and occasional hunting Hobbies, for Stokefest 2008. Another very hot, sunny day, and another inflatable stage (somewhat smaller and greener this year) positioned in what was perhaps ambitiously billed as the 'Stoke Newington Village Green Area'. In reality, every square inch of manicured grass was occupied and fought over by the incoming masses, which - depending on your sensibility towards the festival experience - either equalled an unqualified success or a claustrophobic Hades, and by mid-afternoon the boys and girls in blue had closed the gates, struggling pathetically to maintain any order within a writhing mass of 30,000.

So we played, thankfully, at the slightly more serene (but still heavily-populated) hour of 2 p.m., and suffered various problems with the sound - speaker stacks and monitors not working, engineers turning up the wrong levels (e.g. Alexa's cello did 0-60 in a millisecond and back again, several times, amongst other rib-ticklers), substandard equipment..... but we battled on, enjoyed ourselves, sold a lot of records and withdrew to shady corners to recouperate. Back to Bardens on the 19th, for a 'Tripping In The Country' club-night; in line with the previous show there, again we played great, had an almost perfect sound and had a warm and sweet-smelling experience together.

And then came the cherry on the cake, a predictably great long weekend and an overdue return to Denmark over the 27th - 30th. Two shows, in the custody of our dear friends and all-round superstars Homesick Hank, God's own americana band of choice. Beginning - as ever on our continental excursions - with an early hours drive to Stansted, followed by a comedy wrangle with either a cheap n' uncheerful airline or customs / security, and then a warm welcome from European comrades.

Friday was spent taking it easy and enjoying the centre of town, before arriving at the venue - a smart, low-ceilinged, atmospheric place with a great sound called Huset Musikafeen (apparently famous in this neck of the woods) - and exploiting the amply-stocked green room refridgerators to the full, before eventually sound-checking for as long as we required. (London-based musicians may want to play spot the difference about here).

A few more drinks on the canal side in the evening sunshine, dinner in the old town, and back to the venue for the show - another excellent set, with a great sound and the band on form; followed by our hosts Homesick Hank, previewing new material from their upcoming third album (recommended by us). A fine evening, with fine people, in a fine city.

Saturday began with a long breakfast in our apartment (actually Jespers, loaned to us for the duration), and a couple of hour's convoy journey to Fyn, an island reachable by the longest bridge outside of Phillip Pullman's imagination. En route, it was decided that, if the festival was as much fun as anticipated, we should stay overnight, the fact we'd no tents, blankets or extra clothes a minor detail. And so onto the site we rolled, welcomed by a thick smog of weed smoke drifting between the tents, outdoor cafes and bars, free strawberries, and enough drinks vouchers to wallpaper a small mansion.

Straight to the outdoor bar then, positioned immediately in front of the stage, to sample the award-winning organic ale brewed on site at the famous micro-brewery; nectar indeed, and all the sustenance required for the following 24 hours. A vision of the ideal festival was quickly revealed before us - several hundred people in a field surrounded by beautiful rolling countryside, a menagerie of ornate tents, classic cars, ancient campers, potatoes roasting on campfires, children, friendly dogs, old hippies, spanish crusties, music lovers and a perfect, relaxed atmosphere. Brief showers were barely a deterrent, especially with most of the area in front of the stage undercover; the stage itself was set between a conifer wood and a silver birch copse, with green fields and woodland all around.

Our comrades Homesick Hank played mid-afternoon (their last with founder member Ulrik), and with a reassuring lax attitude towards stage times, we went on around 8.30 pm, with the sun still shining and most of the festival-goers gathered before us. Whether it was the contstant flow of refreshment, the idyllic setting, the fact that we're playing better than ever before, the supremely lovely crowd, or a combination of all the above is open to question, but our set was a joy from beginning to end.

The rest of the night, and following morning, offered hospitality in the form of the tray after tray of the aforementioned uber-ale, homemade soup, sweet n' mild homegrown weed, and friendly-fires to stare deeply into as the sky came light again. HH members dropped like flies and crawled into the nearest vehicles to sleep, which represented a memorable moral victory for the Bride - our first outlasting of our ox-like Danish brothers, who make Keith Richards look like his satanic namesake Cliff - as we comfortably swaggered on until the following day's lunchtime approached (with the exception of Pete, who has Bed-dar like no-one else alive, having found a deserted touring caravan complete with bedding somewhere backstage).

What an enormous drag, and oh how we missed the hallowed streets of Hackney. Another couple of days was spent enjoying the city and the company of our comrades, before the EasyJet reaper appeared once more to escort us back home. A busy and satisfying month, with much upcoming, including our next festival appearance in mid-July at 2000 Trees in Gloucestershire, of which more next time. Hold onto your hats.

Natural disasters
Location: The Bridal suite

Back at the suite, dazed, sleep-deprived and yet full of the joys of the season, on account of just returning from an all-night recording session, which began at 9ish last night and ended in pleasant delirium sometime after the sun came up this morning. An offer of free studio time - especially now we're down to our last $14 million, and what with Jim recently having to sell the smaller Primrose Hill pile - was too good to pass up; and so to Ealing (what else is Ealing for, if not studios?), a deserted and somewhat hospital-like Thames Valley University building in a leafy, alien west London setting, and a small but perfectly formed studio deep in its confines.

We chose two songs to record, both of which require our full attentions during the above, and a follow-up eight-hour session next Sunday. The first, 'Death Rattle', already appears on our recent semi-acoustic mini-album 'Greetings from Abney Park, N16' in a rough, live form; but, as a fairly new edition to our live set, it's developed and blossomed beautifully since we recorded it in the Beaucatcher basement, and the opportunity to capture the song in all its long-winded, climactic glory is very welcome.

The second is 'Nobody Famous', a song we never quite did justice to briefly in the live show some time ago, subsequently falling off the radar until a recent concerted re-working pleasingly breathed new life into its moribund, overlooked form. Both are, well, somewhat epic, being around eight minutes and six minutes long respectively; but both would be unnecessercarily tail-docked if edited into a more acceptably pallatable form, and such things are hardly a concern to us anyhow.

This first, main session proceeded wonderfully, with all the drums, bass, rhythm and lead guitars recorded, often in the first take. 15 hours to nail two songs, however long they may be, really should be more than enough for any artist - justifying the weeks and even months spent pussyfooting around by the majority of undisciplined bands should inherently result in either absolute, unequivocal works of genius, or slow public execution.

Should we ever be tossed the justifiably substantial crumbs required to fulfill the sonic potential of our body of work - i.e., the luxury of a few weeks to record an album, for example - then the nettle will be grasped gladly, and not a minute will be wasted; thus, nothing will change. We'll continue to maximise and milk every last minute while the tape rolls.

Otherwise, we continue to receive very lovely reviews from various sources, most recently from The Independent and Plan B magazine, for live shows over the last few weeks, which is awfully nice (See 'reviews' section); we've a run of potentially very enjoyable shows fast approaching at home and abroad, more recording forthcoming, and a nursery of new songs waiting for attention. All good.

almost spring
Location: The Bridal Suite

It's been a while since last rattling on in these here pages, but hey, we've been busy. After the trials of recording during late 2007 and the following holiday period, Amity and I gratefully disappeared for an extended trip to New England in January, a winter wonderland of snow, Pine Grosbeaks and starry skies; come February, Pete and his partner (and occasional Morning Bride guest star) Rowan had their first child, a baby girl called Zoe Electra, born at home in Mother Hackney.

Hence, a deliberately gentle beginning to 2008 for the Bride. But by mid-February, we eased back into the saddle and played a very enjoyable, semi-acoustic show at The Carpenters Arms in Whitechapel, naturally minus Pete, but a pleasure nonetheless. We were supported by the excellent Southern Tenant Folk Union, hopefully not the last time we play with them.

The beginning of March saw the full band reunited and a very entertaining weekend way out west, specifically Hereford and Cardiff. Two great shows, lots of new friends and a blast for Bride, collectively and individually, after what seemed like longer than a couple of months apart. Funny how a break really can work wonders creatively; not that it was necessarily needed, but with a tangible freshness and enthusiasm flowing through every song, perhaps it was well-timed after all.

None of us can remember playing and enjoying the songs so much, memory loss notwithstanding; although lovely, reactive audiences, friendly & professional promoters and free bars tend to help. A drive west, guided by at least 75 Red Kites along the M40, led us to the Wild Hare Club, artistic vehicle of the ex-Hackney boy turned countryside runaway Richard (envious? us?) - our first show, at The Barrels in Hereford, a lovely, packed-out show in a converted brewery, followed memorably by the staff taking us hostage and forcing us drink and sing our songs a capella until we eventually collapsed into cabs back to our temporary country abode.

Southbound the following day through beautiful countryside and via the Forest of Dean - where we managed to get lost, which transpired to be something of a pleasure - before heading for Cardiff and a headline show at Clwb Ifor Bach, for the Hot Burrito Club's 1st birthday party. Another fine night in Wales, where we always seem to have a blast, and where we'll be returning within a couple of months, having made many more new friends. A return drive to London town through the night followed, guided this time by Barn Owls and a communal desire not to leave the road in our sleep-deprived, happy hazy state.

Our first fully-electric London show of the year followed this last weekend, Easter Saturday by the random absurdity of the Christian calender, at The Plough in Walthamstow, E17. Booked as a Walthamstow Folk Special, what a truly fine evening it turned out to be. Playing two sets to a loved-up, all-singing, all-dancing crowd from across the capitol, and eventually running out of songs is a fine way to spend a saturday night; another hidden enclave of musical activity and another supremely enjoyable show this year.

We have a few weeks ahead of us before further shows, which we'll use to break in new songs; happy days indeed.

the end of our first year
Location: the bridal suite

So, 2007 draws to a close in dirty old London town, with the watery winter sun shining on the temporarily quiet streets, a lull in musical activities, and the Bride scattered across the planet until early in the new year.

December saw us play a couple of low-key shows, the first of which was in Sheffield on the 2nd, at Under The Boardwalk in the city centre; a quiet turn-out (half-expected for a Sunday night in midwinter, with driving rain and a cold north-westerly blowing in from the Peak district), but an entertaining night in the city of my earliest memories (which involve rising damp, asthma attacks and railway fumes - oh! happy days) - we met some lovely people, sold some records and kept our host Craig up most of the night with alcohol-fuelled activities.

Our last (official) show of the year was our local Christmas (nee Solstice) bash, here in Stoke Newington, Hackney on the 20th; a relaxed, semi-acoustic affair in the cosy confines of the Lion on Church Street. And a really lovely evening it turned out to be. Amity slaved in the kitchen during the day making Morning Bride gingerbread people, which - along with the free T-shirts we'd altruistically decided to give away to our local supporters - disappeared within minutes. We played two half-hour sets, with Jim playing a stripped-down percussive kit, Pete and I playing guitars, Alexa cello, and Amity playing melodica, our beloved casio MT-45 mini-keyboard and (for the first time) accordian. We had an almost perfect, rich & warm sound and all of us enjoyed playing immensely; a fine way to round off a year of activity, creativity and adventure.

We've also (as good as) finished our as-live, semi-acoustic mini-album, 'Greetings From Abney Park, N16' with our dear comrade and engineer/nurse Sam St. Leger tolerating hours grabbed here and there to mix the songs as best we can. Of the six songs on the record, four are as good as they're going to get (after all, recording them live with very minimal overdubs somewhat limits mixing and production possibilities - as we intended); we may attempt minor remixes of the final two early in the new year, depending on how they sound in a few days.

The plan is to make 'Greetings...' available exclusively through the website, and perhaps also at shows, limited to small run of only several hundred, all with individually screen-printed sleeves (courtesy once again of Neil and Anya, our fantastic U.S. design team); they should be ready for release by the beginning of February.

We're out of the public eye for a little while, until mid February, when we begin an (ever-increasing) series of dates which will see us playing throughout the spring; the summer is also shaping up very nicely, with several festival dates on the table and offers of European tours to work out. All live dates, as well as other news about relases, tours etc., will continue to appear on these pages just as soon as we get confirmation.

So, our first full year together reaches the end, and a fine year it's been. We came into it, with the settled line-up finally in place and a collective feeling of real unity and much enthusiasm, two and a half months old; a frenetic period of constant rehearsing and bonding, culminating in our first run of shows together and our debut album in the can after just a few weeks of being together.

We've been lucky enough to play in seven countries, with many continental adventures along the way; we've been all over the U.K., missing only Scotland (which we'll remedy in the new year); the reaction to 'Lea Valley Delta Blues' - our debut album, recorded, mixed and mastered in seven days last winter - exceeded all our expectations, garnering praise from all corners, including various national monthly music magazines (all of whom were extremely kind about our firstborn); the positive reviews kept coming, and indeed continue to appear some eight months after release.

A fruitful, productive, adventure-fuelled and above all enormously enjoyable year. Here's to the next, and thanks to everyone who's helped and supported us thus far - you know who you are.

recording, more shows, moomins and S.A.D.
Location: the bridal suite

It's that time of year again when adjusting is everything; the autumn has faded, the days are short and claustrophobic, and a strange but familiar melancholia pervades our dystopic and dishevelled community like a low grade virus. Personally speaking, this is indeed Babylon at it's most trying; a primal yearning to be out in the countryside, or somewhere more evocative of the season at least, is accentuated by the grim reality of street-life (and near-death) in a battered Mother Hackney that seems more and more akin to 'Blade Runner' as each rain-soaked night passes.

Such a pervading mood, however, isn't without a certain silver lining; emotions are somehow heightened, and art / creativity seem to gain in importance and influence. Whether it's playing records or reading books which seem to connect more powerfully at this point in the seasonal cycle, or making music which reflects and feeds such a mood, it's a rare and indescribable collective state of mind, and in a strange sense, a real pleasure. Hence, records that somehow come into their own at this time of year, like 'New Skin for The Old Ceremony', '69 Love Songs' , 'Low', 'Automatic For The People', 'Here Come The Warm Jets' and many others, are welcomed onto the turntable with open arms, and Tove Jansson is presently our reigning heroine here in the Bridal Suite.

I was about to revisit 'The Winter Book' the other day when Amity had the telepathic genius and inspiration to bring home a selection of Moomin books, which will keep us warm, and in a perpetual state of wonder, for a few weeks at least. For anybody unlucky enough to be unfamiliar with the late, truly great Ms. Jansson's work and her creations, seek them out and enjoy them as soon as you can. There may be no cure for S.A.D., but if you feel like you're suffering, it's better to suffer with moomins than with humans.

Oh yes, and the band. We've played five shows this month, all down here in the south-east corner of England. The first was a real blast (as were most of late), at St. Anne's Castle, in Great Leighs, Essex, on the 4th. We played an evening session (as guests of the locally infamous Mr Bob Collum) in this beautiful old pub in the Essex countryside - with legitimate claims on being the oldest hostelry in the country - with lovely, friendly people in appreciative attendance; just the kind of show we truly enjoy. Driving home with the sky over the city exploding with fireworks across our panorama gave the evening a certain Disney touch.

Last week (on the 16th) we played at The Carpenter's Arms in Whitechapel, east London, just a few miles south of our manor. A joint show with The Dublo, we successfully beat off technical difficulties to play a very enjoyable show before a loved-up, crammed-in and well-oiled audience, and a lovely evening was eventually had. A couple of nights ago, we played a show at the Cedar Rooms in Islington, north London, as part of a Red Bricks Special; forgettable for it's torrential rain on a Monday night, lousy sound and electric-shocking mics, but memorable for its good people and unrivalled cocktails.

In between those above, we also had the pleasure of playing two secret shows here in our neighbourhood, both in the Beaucatcher basement. (tbc)

But for rehearsing and playing the above shows, the last few weeks have been all about recording. Back in the summer, after playing a series of semi-acoustic shows in various towns and venues, and increasingly enjoying the songs with a more stripped-down, less blustery and sometimes warmer feel, I wanted us to record a few songs in a similar fashion - for a variety of reasons, not least, for the enjoyment and experience. However, we needed a makeshift host studio and a willing engineer to fulfil our follies, and by the beginning of this month, both were available to us.

It seems only just that we should, once again, express our deep gratitude to the wonderful Fontenoys, who, not content with consistently helping us out, agreed enthusiastically to let us invade their cosy, perfect-for-our-purposes basement beneath the Beaucatcher salon here in Stoke Newington for the recording sessions. This included our over-running of the basement with amps, guitars, glockenspiels, cellos, leads, mics, percussion, empty wine bottles and grotto-creating fairy lights, for a run of several three/four hour sessions throughout the month.

At hand and armed with the requisite enthusiasm and bucketfuls of patience, our good comrade Mr. Sam St. Leger stepped in to (amongst many other things) press flashing lights, shout "rolling" and administer Spectoresque warning shots to the more enebriated musicians. Sam has been/is a real pleasure to work with, and has been very influential in the spirit of the recording; we'd like to thank him enormously for his efforts and skills.

The relaxed, DIY nature of the sessions were somewhat coloured by both the immediate environment of the basement itself and the external environment of the onset of winter, and a certain warmly melancholic atmosphere pervaded the sessions, hopefully reflected in the end results. Originally intended to consist (at least mainly) of alternative versions of tracks from 'Lea Valley Delta Blues', we've ended up recording just two from the album, and three new songs, which we're very excited about.

The process itself has, once again, relied heavily (and almost entirely) on playing live; overdubs have been added where necessary, but the basics were all recorded live and simultaneously. We work best together that way, and in the absence (so far) of the luxury of many hours of studio time and the facilities required to make an epic, well, we aim to capture our sound as naturally as possible, including screw-ups and fluffs. I'm a believer in standing by the best performance, which is not necessarily the same as the 'tightest' or most robotically played. As I've said before, given the time, resources and brass to make a 'Rumours' or 'The Soft Bulletin' and we surely will, with pleasure; until then, there seems little point in settling for something inbetween; hence, the mini-album is basically a live album capturing the spirit of our stripped-down performances of late.

an autumn almanac, and our first birthday passes
Location: the (new) bridal suite

Even here, in the blackened, diseased heart of Babylon, with the nights drawing in fast, the temperatures plummeting overnight and the leaves fading into the most beautiful seasonally adjusted colours, autumn is still a real pleasure. In our particular corner of central North London, we at least have easy access to several green spaces nearby, including the over-manicured but peaceful and expansive Clissold Park, and the beautiful, gothic, overgrown haven of Abney Park Cemetery. Both are especially valuable at this time of year, with the cold, clear days of late keeping most urbanites indoors and a rare peace pervades.

The latter location is of particular importance to Morning Bride, of which, more later. But the last few weeks, indeed couple of months, has seen us purposely stay away from the London 'scene' (if such a thing exists, or ever existed), playing selected, random shows elsewhere around the UK instead. In addition to those described in the last journal entry, the beginning of this month saw us head up north for a sojourn in God's Country (ie Yorkshire), and two shows of equal enjoyment and contrasting circumstance.

Having been offered a show at The Faversham in Leeds, supporting The Broken Family Band, we needed another to make the weekend, and the journey up the spine of England, more worthwhile. Leeds is less than a two hour drive from Yorkshire's east coast, and more specifically, a chalk cape extending seven kilometres into the North Sea called Flamborough Head (from the Viking 'Flaneburg') - a beautiful peninsula of roughly chiseled bays, caves, inlets and beaches, and as it happens, my home village.

So, with the help of a certain Liz & John Allison, a willing local hostelry became a sort of homecoming on the first Saturday of October. We travelled up the M1 and arrived in the vllage, via a minor detour to Rudston Monolith (the tallest standing stone in England, unspoiled even by the deliberately overshadowing christian church and cemetery surrounding it), by mid-afternoon, enough time spare to take the band up onto the headland and show them the Selwicks Bay area. The clear, blue, freezing water proved too much of a temptation for Alexa, who promptly stripped off, dived in and caused near cardiac arrests among many nearby birdwatchers on the cliffs above.

And so, the show; two half-hour sets before a pleasingly busy and receptive audience, made up of vaguely-familiar, very familiar and new faces. With a very complimentary (and surprisingly entirely accurate) spread in the local press, many had made the journey from the nearest town, Bridlington, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely; what was a potentially surreal and uncomfortable experience for me personally turned out to be a blast, in no small part thanks to the attendance of good friends and family who would otherwise not have the opportunity to see us. Free bar tabs, courtesy of our nearest and dearest, were exploited to full late into the night, and we staggered back to base in the early hours beneath a silver-studded black sky with the lighthouse shining every few seconds.

Sunday, with no rush to make it to Leeds before the evening and the sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky, there was plenty of time to show the band more of my geographical DNA; more beautiful local bays, North Landing (where the band took a boat trip in a local cobble into smuggler's caves) and Thornwick (with it's views of the mighty Bempton Cliffs, and Filey and Scarborough beyond) were enjoyed, before huge lunches and family socialising before reluctantly heading west to the industrial heart of the county.

Endless traffic snarl-ups prevented our arrival at the venue before 7.30, half an hour before our scheduled stage time; a lightning soundcheck, caffeine and a change of clothes later, and we were on. Such an early hour hardly raised our expectations of playing to a decent audience, but we were wrong; the doors opened at 8, and floods of people came through the doors, assembled before us in good numbers, and duly listened, swayed, applauded and generally received us warmly. Thoughts of performing in front of four or five old friends and a couple of bar staff were pleasingly forgotten, and by the time we were offstage, finding those old friends in the crowd was more of a pressing issue.

More catching up with old faces followed, as well as watching and sharing a few drinks with the very lovely Broken Family Band, before it was time to hit the road once again, this time in driving rain and darkness. With Alexa and Jim sleeping like babies in the back, Pete (who could probably drive across the States without blinking), Amity & I kept ourselves entertained through the long drive back to Hackney, finally getting home at 6 a.m. A fine weekend had by all, the latest of many we've shared over the past twelve months; to be making such great music with such an enthusiastic, close and positive band is truly a pleasure these days. And after getting together for the first time in mid-October 2006 - we are one!

late summer adventures
Location: the bridal suite

Back home after a whirlwind assault on beautiful south Wales, of which more later; the last three weeks have seen the Bride play a handful of shows, all very enjoyable and varied in nature.

Late August saw us welcome our very lovely, excitable and cherubic friends/label mates Penny Century to these hallowed shores, for their first trip the UK; a whistlestop tour of random towns brought them to London first, and - in exchange for them showing us a great time in their native Ostersund, Sweden earlier in the year - we extended our hospitality over a five day period of frolics here on home territory.

The release of their fine debut album coincided with their visit, and once the sightseeing, drinking, late nights and integrating them into our uniquely flavoured neighbourhood were done, we organised a show together at Ryan's on Stoke Newington Church Street (Saturday 25th Aug). And a fine night we all had - our crowd showed up in force, overflowing the venue in time to catch our labelmates on top form. It's always a pleasure when our audience really enjoy a visiting band we play with, and PC were warmly appreciated.

Our set was the most enjoyable for some time on our own patch, with a fine atmosphere, much dancing and singing along, and a suitably love-in vibe to the entire evening; especially pleasing on account of us taking a break from playing local shows for the foreseeable future.

After an all-nighter and the safe dispatching of Penny into cars and onto trains early on Sunday, Amity and I took a trip up north to my home village of Flamborough, on the East coast of Yorkshire, and amid long clifftop walks and charity shop raids on nearby towns, ended up playing a show of sorts in the village on Thursday; after several drinks in a local boozer, we were 'encouraged' to play a few acoustic songs by the mighty fine band of local folk-sessioners, themselves entertaining the clientele with a colourful mix of traditional folk songs, local sea shanties and singalongs.

And so we did, and much fun was had; alongside mandolin, guitar, washboard, mouth-harp, spoons and tambourine, it was harder not to; to say we had a good time would be an understatement.

And the following week involved more travelling into the countryside, this time westwards to Wales and with the full Bride compliment ensconsed in the van, rattling along the M4 in the late summer sunshine. Once again we'd the priviledge of having Rowan along, our accordian-playing guest star in the absence of Alexa.

Our first stop on Wednesday 5th was Le Pub in Newport, a lovely venue in the centre of town, all dark wood and wild west fittings (how appropriate), and then hooked up with the upstanding chaps who promote this monthly americana night (Hot Burrito, highly recommended). After soundchecking, a quick dinner and then watching our excellent local support Ghost Of A Dog, we played a very enjoyable show to an enthusiastic and warm audience; a pleasure indeed, especially when people know the words and the songs. We felt very appreciated, and as a result had a really good time playing.

Teams Bride and Hot Burrito joined forces for an assault on the clubs of Newport and their hoards of effervescent youth, cheap, 2 for 1 spirits and late opening hours..... but we were looked after very well, and safely put to bed before too much damaged was accrued. An early rise on Thursday in beautiful warm sunshine encouraged us into the town centre for a greasy spoon breakfast, a combined hit on all the charity shops, and a call on Diverse Music, run by the very same chaps who organise Hot Burrito (what's welsh for Mafia?). To our great pleasure, this fiercely independent, vinyl-dominated oasis contained a fine Lea Valley Delta Blues main display, and guess what happened to be playing as we walked through the door. We felt loved.

Leaving Newport with happy hangovers and memories, we drove north into the stunning, picturesque and idyllic setting of the Black Mountains, bound for Llanthony, a remote hamlet in a beautiful valley. Less a hamlet, more of an axis created by a ruined Abbey in the care of the National Trust, an adjoining traditional farm and a public house - the latter being our musical port of call that evening. Inevitable thoughts of 'American Werewolf..' and 'The Wicker Man' were put aside as we pitched our tents in a field next to the Priory, with the slopes of the lush green valley and mature woodland to each side; Buzzards screaming and omnipresent overhead, and hirundines swarming around the farm in noisy, cheerful constellations.

Tired, fried but suitably relaxed by our environs, a drive along the narrow, hedge-lined single lane track north up the valley (with stunning views, and Wheatears hopping indignantly off the road along the higher stretches) to Hay-on-Wye for supplies followed. More relaxing back at the tents, with an open-air acoustic rehearsal in the evening sunshine, followed before we walked over to the pub for our evening session.

And a blast was had by all - singing for our dinner and a free bar tab is sometimes all the inspiration we need, and by the fourth pint of ultra-strong local real ale we'd have played 'Wired For Sound' if requested. The obligatory drunken nightcap within the moonlit ruined Priory followed, before stumbling back to our tents and inspiring a 'Nuts In May' style atmosphere in the camping area.

Now in mid-September, after a short break from activities we have a busy few weeks ahead, with recording new material taking priority (more of which soon), as well as a couple of dates in the north to prepare for - including a show at the Faversham in Leeds with The Broken Family Band on October 7th.

East End tales (of London and Oslo)
Location: the bridal suite

What the summer has so far lacked in vitamin D has at least been brightened by an ongoing and pleasingly varied run of performances of late, another two of which have passed since the last journal entry.

The latest of our cultural exchanges ended successfully a little more than a week ago, with Gothenburg-based Swedish six-piece Abraham & the Ditsy Blondes exiting our care after five days, two shows, and a taste of our own inimitable hospitality here in London town. Under the Hackney Gazelle / Smartrocker co-production umbrella, we organised two evenings of uniquely varied live music.

A night at Stage B here in Stoke Newington on Friday the 13th - also featuring Wales' David Mysterious and the mighty Dublo - was successfully navigated before venturing just a little way out of the neighbourhood for Saturday's event.

With the blessing of the (slightly bemused, but helpful) management, we took over the Seabright Arms, an expansive, atmospheric, glamour-faded, east-end boozer/venue just off the Hackney Road; an ideal venue for our purposes, with it's off-Broadway style Music Hall act tradition and gold lame-curtained stage. The fact that technical problems plagued us is hardly breathtaking news - the main house fuses blowing, an unreliable p.a., amps blowing, the tills going down, etcetera - and, after such trials conspired to lessen the odds of a killer evening occurring, all concerned were more than inspired to contradict the likely outcome.

Our Swedish guests played a fine set, followed by local comrades and purveyors of dramatic, cabaret-soaked, dark showtunes The Cesarians - our first real show with them (excluding the forgettable test run in Dalston last month); exemplary and entertaining, as ever.

By 11ish and with most of our energies sapped, we began what turned into a hugely enjoyable and intense show, before a very lovely and interactive audience. It was one of those shows that defies explanation of exactly why it was so celebratory and enjoyable; we've certainly played 'better' (albeit usually with enough light to see our instruments), and preparations & technical problems have rarely been quite so draining. But with an uncommonly strong umbilical between band and audience, an unforgettable evening it turned out to be. It's always worth it, in the end.

With our guests safely dispatched back to Scandinavia, Amity and I (accompanied by brother Neil and sister Anya) chose to do the same a day or so later - a few days break in Oslo to engage with a different culture for a while, wash away the Dickensian grime in clear forest lakes, pick blueberries in the woods, and enjoy the trappings of one of our favourite european cities. Predictably, we found ourselves back at the idealism-sometimes-actually-works cultural hub that is Sound of Mu, in Grunerlokka, east Oslo (see Scandinavian tour journal).

At the request of our good friend Barry and the rest of our Mu comrades, we accepted an invitation to play the SoM closing down party on Saturday night (Closing down for a little less than a fortnight for repairs as it happens - in Norway, any excuse will do); unrehearsed, gear-less and in holiday mode, we were happy to oblige, and with an acoustic commandeered from lord knows where, a plectrum fashioned half an hour previously from the cap of a can of shaving cream and a warm audience of attentive, clap-along partgoers, Amity and I played unamplified, campfire versions of 'The Good Seed', 'KX', 'Eleanora' and 'Mother Hackney'. A pleasure indeed, and good to play the songs in their most naked, skeletal state.

Which brings us up to the end of July, and a couple of weeks rehearsals and manouvres before more shows in August, sadly without our not-so-secret weapon Alexa, who has disappeared to Guatemala until the autumn. We'll miss you Axel.

late June / early July - here comes the flood
Location: the bridal suite

Arguably, it's midsummer; in reality, an apocalyptic hailstorm is presently pummelling the weakened glass of our skylight, and but a couple of hours ago dampened my oxfam-purchased pinstripe suit just prior to this evening's photo session at Karma Studios, ten minutes west of the Bridal Suite on Stoke Newington Church Street.

And so, the (long) weekend before last, we played four shows here in southeast England, as contrasting as the very elements which raged above us. With Brother Jim temporarily absent, we procured the services of Mr. Sam St. Leger, drummer for NE London comrades garage-rock three-piece The Venom Seeds, and duly threw him in at the deep end. A single rehearsal and 48 hours of constant 'Lea Valley Delta Blues' on rotation later, and our fresh-faced percussionist/drummer super-sub was deemed fighting fit for battle at The Gypsy Hotel club night, down the road in Dalston, east London.

Friday 29th june was, by some accounts, not a particularly memorable evening in the Bride's autobiography - plagued by a pitifully poor sound (acoustic guitar as plastic ukelele, dalek vocals, no cello, etcetera), we nonetheless fought through, and our semi-acoustic set at this essentially subtlety-free night really could have been much worse, had we would have succumbed to demoralisation. Sam was truly a trooper (as frankly were all of us) and we came through it with nothing more than a few grazed knees. Some even said it was our best show ever; proof that there is never any harmony of opinion for such things.

Saturday night was spent winding down in our local hostelry (answers on a postcard please), to which we returned approximately seven hours later to convene for breakfast. From there, to Romford - where else? - for three sets at the Liberty Mall Music Festival. A music festival, in a mall, in Romford; this really happened. Nothing if not surreal, memorable and in fact for the most part enjoyable.....

Two halfhour sets on little stages, semi-acoustically, which sounded surprisingly good; although those old enough to remember Tiffany's 15 minutes many years ago will be pleased to know Sam kicked off a spontaneous reinactment of the 'I Think We're Alone Now' at one point. And then the headline slot on the main stage, in the middle of the concourse, around 4pm.

A huge, gorgeous sound, akin to playing in a cathredral - which in a sense we were, caught in the crossfire of the consumerist ritual amongst a congregation of several thousand true believers. With the support of promoter Ian, friends from east and west of this metropolitan outpost, and new comrades and fellow mall rats The Southern Tenant Folk Union, we looked up through the giant skylights for salvation, and kept our eyes away from the temples of sin for fear of turning to stone (or worse) mid-song.

And so, back to Essex on the Fourth of July, for a return to our favourite Americana club night in south-east England, Alter States. A couple of days after the above shows, and with Jim back in (almost) one piece for a semi-acoustic Independence Day celebration, and another lovely night there; indeed, our most enjoyable yet. An almost perfect sound (so good, it brought out the very best in us, and we wished we could've recorded the show), an appreciative, attentive audience, and a perfect way to end our long and truly surreal weekend of shows.

a long, sunny weekend to remember
Location: the bridal suite

The sun continues to shine, the detritus has been duly recycled, and heads are slowly clearing after a chaotic, uber-satisfying and very wonderful few days here in London town. After a lay-off of many weeks (but for the Stokefest fundraiser at the end of May), we launched ourselves headlong back into live performance with four shows on the spin, all in the north and east of our adopted babylon.

Hardly a tour - nobody had to translate our funny accents, and most of us slept in our own beds each night - but in several (positive) ways, it felt a lot like one. The summer sun graced us throughout, as did the indefinable collective feeling of being very much on our game, and wholly synchronised while playing together. When it happens, it's a beautiful thing, and unlike any other feeling.

We began at Biddle Brothers, last Thursday (seems so long ago) - a pleasant little cafe-bar set amongst the vile-smelling takeaway joints, betting shops and pound stores of Lower Clapton Road, otherwise known as The Murder Mile (for good reason, and some of us know it only too well; but gentrification is coming, for better or worse). We played a semi-acoustic set in support of our good friends at Falcone Records, a local indie label in the truest sense of the much-abused 'I' word, sharing a fine bill with The Bed and Mary Epworth & The Jubilee Band.

The Bed (aka Mark Miller, an unassuming lancastrian singer-songwriter) was playing his first London show to celebrate the release of his debut e.p. It was one of those all too rare occasions when a musician quietly takes a seat and begins to play amongst the chatter of a small, busy place, and almost everybody stops speaking to allow for their jaws to drop. Beautiful, fragile songs that had everbody, including us, utterly rapt.

It was the first time we'd played with Mary Epworth &TJB too, but surely not the last; while not necessarily ploughing the same furrow, the two bands complimented each other perfectly, and their country/folk/blues-tinged songs presumably confuse many journalists regarding pigeonholes as much as ours seem to.

www.myspace.com/falconerecords
www.myspace.com/thegreatbed
www.myspace.com/maryepworth

Friday, and it was time to welcome our Danish comrades, the six-headed country viking beast that is the wonderful Homesick Hank. Honouring part two of an exchange which began in Copenhagen back in March, HH were our highly entertaining, hard-drinking, indefatigable guests for the weekend, and Friday night saw the first of two shows we were to play together.

What's Cookin', the now semi-legendary americana/country-tinged rock and roll night in Leytonstone, is one of those clubs which effectively waves a V sign at the conventional wisdom of promoting music that you love far away from fashionable areas. Leytonstone, for all its hidden charms, is hardly a borough that springs to mind for its hotbed of creativity or liberal, bohemian air..... nor is it exactly on the beaten track for live music (excluding pub covers bands, naturally).

But we know better, as do many others, as a result of the endeavours of Stephen, promoter and founder of What's Cookin. His philosophy is simple - find a suitable venue, make it look like a Lynchian take on Las Vegas super-kitsch, book consistently excellent bands, look after them well and ensure a quality live sound, promote the hell out of it, and, voila, great things can happen.

And so a fine night was had by all, HH playing a blinding debut UK show amidst giant plastic flowers and gold lame, and celebrations continued through the night back at Alexa's in Dalston, around a campfire fed by Ikea beds that lit up the neighbourhood beyond sunrise.

Come Saturday, and we were back on home turf, and the danes were treated/subjected to a little happy-hangover sightseeing in our neighbourhood, before the evening came around and the party descended into the basement of Ryan's Bar on Stoke Newington Church Street. It's a venue we know well, one of only a few in perhaps the most musically fertile area of London, and recently refurbished; refurbished is sadly not a euphemism for technically reliable however, and with the clock ticking ever closer to opening time, it was only through the tenacity and imagination of those present (and especially Steve, our ever-dependable soundman) that we had a price of playing a note.

It seems all the most memorable shows are those which involve an unhealthy degree of stress and chaos, and so it came to pass once again. Another beautiful set from the Bed opened the evening, and then as the light faded outside, Homesick Hank played their second show of their trip. Their spirited, lush, energetic, Burrito Brothers-inspired country rock was a real hit with our faithful, and judging by the reactions, the feeling was entirely mutual.

An over-capacity audience and a tangibly warm feeling throughout the venue gave us the requisite last burst of energy we needed, and at the risk of glowing self-review, we played perhaps our finest, most representative, and most inspired show yet. Everything came together - the sound, the audience, the band - and something barely short of magical occurred. We've played bigger places, to more people, with better sound systems, smoother preparations, etc. etc., but those factors don't necessarily combine to create the indefinable something which fills the air on a night like Saturday.

Inevitably, more celebrations were required, and impromptu after-shows spilled out over several local hostels and houses, with another balmy night encouraging al fresco festivities. A late breakfast in the sunshine in the garden here at the bridal suite followed after a few hours sleep, preceding the Bride's fourth and final show of the weekend, at Stokefest 2007.

Held (almost) annually in Clissold Park here in Stoke Newington, Stokefest is a free all day festival which increases in popularity every year, and ten of thousands now attend; the weather seemed to bring out even more this year, and the hazy, hungover walk to the park took us longer than we can remember. But by midday-ish we convened at the Global Hoedown stage, an hour before our scheduled show.

Co-organised by the Magpie's Nest and Cut-a-Shine, a kind-of-folk club and 'anarchist barn-dance' respectively, we were looking forward to playing on the Global Hoedown stage, amongst a bill made up of various musical persuasions from traditional folk to full-on 15-piece gypsy dance bands, in front of something like our home crowd.

Pleasantly fazed and burnt-out by the preceding few days activities, playing on a huge stage that resembled a giant's bouncy castle in warm sunshine in front of hundreds of people seemed like the most natural thing in the world, and we played sunny, somewhat relaxed versions of most of the songs from Lea Valley Delta Blues, plus several others.

As might be expected, 'Mother Hackney' was especially enjoyable, and our accidental campaign to have a song about (amongst other things) council corruption, dead junkies and street crime adopted as the borough's anthem seems to be gathering pace.

A special mention must surely go to the kids of Betty Layward Primary School, who, to our delight, showed up in home-made t-shirts, waving home-made banners, amongst the assembled festival-goers; truly the perfect hangover cure. As was the rest of the day in general; a relaxed, grinning comedown from a truly wonderful, four-day travelling circus. Thanks to everyone who helped make it all happen, and helped make it so memorable - you know who you are.

reasons to be cheerful, May 2007
Location: the bridal suite

Early hours, mid-May, London town, and what may superficially appear to have been a quiet few weeks, has in fact been steadily productive. For our collective pleasure, Swifts have been screaming over our urban Babylon for some weeks, vixens have been frequenting our overgrown, wildflower-rich garden with increasing, cub-feeding regularity, and the city - rain, wind and battleship-greyness notwithstanding - is once again alive.

Our present enforced break aside (two of us are in academic meltdown), plans have been concieved and delivered for the coming weeks and months - with the often deliciously random, die-rolling power of the internet, and the calling-in of various approaches over the last few months, the Bride schedule is pleasingly fertile.

It's funny how hindsight contextualises development. This time last year, the Bride nucleus of Amity, Jim and I - while never (for a second) losing faith - were uncomfortably aware of momentum loss and water-treading. Able only to fulfil a live schedule that was irregular (and exclusively local) at best, unable to rehearse together enough to make any real creative progress, and wasting time and energy on diplomacy and pussyfooting around, we knew a change for the better was long, long overdue.

Summer 2006, I was away for almost three months, far away from musical concerns, London and the distractions and pressures of both. Far enough away to gather some real perspective, uncluttered by the responsibilities of trying to manage the differing priorities within the band, and temporarily free from the responsibilities of having, almost constantly, to temper such concerns (always to the grave detriment of my/our art and soul).

Returning to London with a collection of new songs (including 'Time Delay' and 'Eleanora', both soon to appear on 'Lea Valley Delta Blues') and a clearer vision of the very minimum required to elevate the band beyond entertaining hobby status, it took a couple of weeks at the most to realise changes had to come, and soon.

And within a few weeks, we were (literally) a new band. With the baptising of our new blood (in hindsight, so obviously fated, in every respect), intensive rehearsing resulted in the reinterpreting (and re-energising) of the existing songs, the introduction and blossoming of new material, some seriously joyful bonding, and an entirely new, fresh vision of the future of the Bride.

It really was as simple as that, and if it sounds like a happy ending, well that's because it was; or rather, a happy beginning. To state the obvious, the pre-autumn 2006 Morning Bride was effectively embryonic; an (essential) exercise in experience, song-writing, artistic development and positioning, but never nearly enough to impact upon the world beyond our suffocating little patch of the planet, or indeed our own aspirations.

Almost overnight, we'd become a creative family quintet, with a love of performing and delivering our unique art, and a united dedication to the cause. X -times more creative and productive, with a renewed vigour and passion, and a realisation that the collective were all pulling gleefully in the same, in-it-for-the-love-of-it direction. (Not to mention, a fine debut album under our belts within weeks of exchanging vows).

Since then, we've been a band, in the the purest sense of the word - more than the sum of our parts, and a unique creative entity. Not that our situation is perfect - far from it, and there are aspects of day-to-day life which inevitably continue to plague the ideal. Not least, we all work hard to get by, and balancing time to sate our creative thirsts with the mundanities of paying the bills and getting by is never as easy as it could or should be - especially in an environment as anti-bohemian and treadmill-obsessed as London.

But such hurdles are nothing new, and nothing we can't deal with; since the 'rebirth' of the band last autumn, we're far, far closer to the collective vision, in every sense, and it's really a joy to be moving so much faster. And with fifteen shows in six countries already this year, and plenty more on the table for the weeks and months ahead, playing live is less an irregular novelty, more a real means of expression and channeling of emotion.

spring update 2007
Location: the garden of the bridal suite

So, we returned from our Scandinavian escapade unscathed, lean, closer than ever and with our collective wanderlust temporarily sated. 'Lea Valley Delta Blues' was already out in the big bad world, and with an enforced break to briefly reflect, we waited to see how (and indeed if) the national press chose to judge our newborn.

We needn't have worried unduly, and indeed the very presence of reviews in the mainstream press (a 'new' band on a very small indie label, with no publicity or plugging as yet, except this laptop and the phone over there) was no mean achievement in itself. Three reviews in high-falutin', established magazines was frankly way more than we anticipated, and all - so far - have been very complimetary. Believing your own press is of course creative and moral suicide, but it's healthy to bathe in a little admiration sometimes, wherever it comes from.

So the timing of our enforced break, while for important reasons, could have been better, but we're not standing still. We're presently in the process of booking many shows for June and July, which will constitute a rolling 'tour' of London and the south-east of England - dates and venues will appear on the shows page as and when confirmed (the first few are already up).

Last Friday (April 27th) saw three of us - Amity, Pete & I - play one of our most surreal, and yet truly enjoyable, shows so far. As part of World Music Week, the Betty Layward Primary School here in our native Stoke Newington asked us to provide the grand finale, for 400+ local kids, aged 5 to 11. With support provided by two classes dancing salsa (unforgettable), we played in the main hall for the kids and teachers: a short acoustic show, climaxing with (what else under the circumstances?) 'Mother Hackney'.....

While not the most child-friendly of lyrics, we figured they were probably all just as streetwise as us concerning the threats and dangers of our adopted neighbourhood, and so most of the words stayed as intended. Except, that is, for the second verse; spontaneous self-censorship dictated the word 'mousey' replaced 'junkie', much to the continuing amusement of Amity (who missed the next verse due to exessive giggling).

Four hundred kids clapping fervently and hollering

'And now I'm back in the bosom of Mother Hackney,
scene of all my crimes
But Mother Hackney, you've witnessed all the crimes against me,
God knows I've served my time'

was almost too wonderful to describe (and raised the question of a special 'Another Brick in the Wall' style version sometime in the future).

We also have several shoots coming up this month with our new-found filmmaker Crissi, who will lead us into the alien world of short films / videos, accompanying several songs from LVDB. More on these developments anon. Meantime, we're preoccupied with other aspects of real life, and basking in the repercussions of the greenhouse effect here in Babylon itself. See you at the shows.

Scandinavian tour journal
Location: the bridal suite

Back in England after our third European sojourn of the year, this time incorporating three Scandinavian countries, five shows, eight days, and many new friends. Organised with the contemporary blessings of the internet and borrowed time, we hit the road again after a busy March preparing for the release (and launch party) of ‘Lea Valley Delta Blues’.

We left London in the early hours of Saturday the 24th (several of us minus any sleep since early Friday a.m.) and arrived in Copenhagen late morning to be greeted by the good folk of Homesick Hank – our Danish hosts for the first show of the trip. Bathed in early spring sunshine, we had a good few blurred and lazy hours to spare in Copenhagen before the show, at Krudttonden.

Competing against the local hero boxing in the national stadium opposite - and the Danish football team playing a World Cup qualifier against Spain on the same night - perhaps wasn’t the most fortuitous scheduling, and the audience was somewhat 'selective' as a consequence – however, the venue itself was excellent, with a fine p.a. and sound engineer, and even in our sleepless, zombie-like state, we played two sets well into the early hours.

Sometime after we grabbed a couple of hours sleep, and then back on the road – five hours or so under the sea, into Sweden and up along the west coast to Gothenburg, our second destination. With an evening to relax before the next show, we met up with our local connections – Abraham & the Ditsy Blondes singer Jonas, Amanda, and our good friends Houman, Suzanne and Xander, in the heart of the city (a favourite of ours) before retiring to the comfort of soft mattresses and swedish hospitality.

Another fine, sunny morning on Monday the 26th, and a rendezous in the city before getting a tram to the HQ of Radio Gothenburg, for a live session and interview on the Hasse & Frida show. Asked to play a couple of live acoustic songs, we scrambled two guitars the night before, and Pete, Amity & I played 'KX' and 'Isabelline', interspersed with album tracks and Amity & I talking about the record & the tour.

The live songs went beautifully, with acoustic, slide and vocals sounding clear and sweet in the tiny studio (that is, excluding the first bridge on 'Isabelline', a result of Xander - almost two now and possessing a fine anarchic streak - banging on the window, causing laughter and screwed-up chords).

Suitably relaxed and warmed by the sun, we spent the day together in the city, before playing our second show at Jord, a venue in the centre of town, with our host Abraham & the Ditsy Blondes. In contrast to the previous night's show, we streamlined the set to around 35 minutes to accomadate a curfew, and the show raced by, and before an appreciative assembly of young swedish hipsters & various locals, we'd hit our stride.

Our hosts played a blinder also, and the rest of the night was spent at the bar, with talk of a return leg back in London in the summertime on the cards. Early Tuesday morning, and breakfast in the sunshine at Central station before the four-hour journey through the countryside and further up the east coast, over the border in to Norway, and into Oslo for early afternoon.

Armed with Vodka and wine purchased in the those odd, government-owned Swedish liquor stores and saving the equivalent of a three-bedroom Islington flat as a consequence, we made our way to Grünerløkka, an instantly loveable bohemian district fifteen minutes east of the city centre and home to our operations over the next few days.

The burden of our wants and needs fell on Barry, an old musician friend from London, leader of the mighty fine Dacianos(www.myspace.com/dacianos) and co-runner of Sound Of Mu, the co-operative arts & media space that would be the venue of our first show in the city later that night.

A model of how it can and should be done in any city, Sound Of Mu is the venue for exhibitions, indie films, multi-media installations, and live music, encouraging the great and good of Oslo with membership reductions and a real community feel that puts the typically soulless, 21st century small venue to shame.

Variously housed in different apartments of the elegantly faded, yellow 19th century apartment block which includes the venue on its ground floor, we enjoyed hospitality from the Mu team which included our commandeering of bedrooms, computers and equipment, all offered and accepted as if we'd known each other for decades.

Playing SoM was an intimate and very enjoyable show, with Dacianos providing a beautiful and haunting support, and by then we'd acclimatised entirely to the tour, making rolling, subtle alterations to the songs that can only be done in the midst of a run of back-to-back shows.

Another day, and another lungful of crystal-fresh scandinavian oxygen, and unbroken sunshine set in clear blue skies - and a day to kill in a beautiful city. Hence, a Bride activity day, incorporating a substantial picnic, a self-guided tour of the old town, and an afternoon relaxing in and admiring the seen-to-be-believed environs of the Sculpture Park.

Back at Grünerløkka for late afternoon, and preparations for our second show in the neighbourhood, at Mir. Yet another wonderful small venue with a great P.A and sound (oh how we yearned for London), and another fine band for ego-free support in the shape of That Lonesome Sound (www.myspace.com/thatlonesomesound), an embarrasingly talented bluegrass/americana/dark blues duo based in Oslo.

Another great show, and another great reaction from an audience who cared enough to wait around until we'd had the chance to talk to practically everybody who'd come to see us. Drinks flowed, friends were made and the Bride glowed.

And so the festivities continued back at the Mu ranch into the morning, despite a 5.30.a.m call approaching fast; a couple of us managed almost two hours sleep, the remainder about an hour, and a pre-dawn Oslo was woken by the sound of mobiles chirping, stones thrown at windows and fists continually hammering on doors to wake the remaining dead.

A full 30 minutes of increasing panic and hammering/stoning later, and five still fully enebriated musicians surrounded by heaps of luggage and instruments waited for a cab that never came. Somehow, at 7a.m. we were on the Stockholm train, and nervous laughter replaced nervous exhaustion.

All the better when embarking on a 12-hour train ride, six hours across Norway and central Sweden south-east to the capital, a change of trains, and six hours north to Ostersund. For the first eight hours or so, a journey of fertile, rolling green countryside interspersed with unblemished lakes and vast tracts of birch and pine forest, gradually phasing into the snow-coated, chocolate-box, frozen beauty of the north.

Ensconsed in an old style private carriage of our own, with bunk beds accomodating guitars, rucksacks and the cello and a view to calm the brain of any serial killer, if it didn't seem worth the organisational hassles of the previous weeks and months before, it surely did by now.

The light was fading by the time we reached Ostersund, a small city/large town set on the breathtaking frozen lake Storsjon. We were welcomed by our hosts, labelmates and soon-to-be good friends Penny Century, local hipsters and purveyors of the kind of sunny, life-affirming pop music that reminds you why 'indie' doesn't have to be a euphemism for dull, fey tedium.

A giant dinner, beer and wine were consumed before collapsing into warm comas, with the prospect of a full day and night ahead to relax and loosen up before the final show. Another sunny day, this time involving cross-country skiing, getting intimate with snow-drifts and getting to know the heart of the town (the latter taking a little over half an hour, excluding the wonderful independent record store Skivhornan), and then out on the tiles with our hosts in the couple of bars where the entire under-50 population descend on a Friday night.

More of the same (snow, sun, clean air) on Saturday, before our last night of the tour and our final show. And what a place to play; a silver and white, glass-sided, medium sized, two-floored venue, with an ideal stage and set-up, all overlooking the twinkling, frozen expanse of the lake.

Our hosts had obviously done a formidable publicity sweep, and by 10ish, the venue was filling up steadily; by 11, after drinks on the upper level while watching the sunset, we played a 50 minute set to a receptive and lovely audience. PC, local heroes for very good reason, were excellent; so many killer tunes, and still so young..... obviously celebrations extended a few hours longer, and mutual appreciation blossomed further.

A long day and night's travelling home did little to rain on the scandinavian parade, and next time, we'll probably never leave.

mid March update
Location: the bridal suite

It seems extraordinary that almost a month has passed since we returned from the irish mini-tour, battered and bruised but all the better for it; in the intervening weeks, much of the activity has been behind the scenes, with the logistics of the launch night, the scandinavian tour, and especially the release of the album taking up more than a few waking hours and god only knows how much space in various inboxes.

But, while the road is never smooth, we're substantially further along it, and all is generally ticking over well. The launch party is well prepared for, the scandinavian tour is all finalised, and the album is now physically among us - and a very beautiful thing it is too. Neil and Anya's cover art is truly timeless and stunning, and we're glad we stuck to our guns and insisted upon the infinitely more attractive and art-friendly cardboard digipak (as opposed to the unspeakably ugly and pointless regulation format, the jewel case).

One of many advantages of working with an indie record label that appreciates the important elements in a release is the total control we have over all our artwork and presentation, with the full support of the label. It's of the utmost importance to us to take great care in every aspect of our art, from Amity's hair grips to the size of a bar code.

Reviews for the album are trickling in, and are, thus far, all very kind. If and when any future reviews are less kind, we will naturally put our fingers in our ears, close our eyes and lalalalala very loudly until it goes away. The chances of reproducing such reviews on this website, in the name of balance and honesty, are less than zero, but you never know.

the anglo-irish exchange, part two
Location: the bridal suite

Back in the bosom of, arriving home around 24 hours ago after a whirlwind three-show mini-tour of Ireland's (beautiful) southwest. For a while there - especially immediately before our scheduled departure on Thursday evening - it seemed pretty unlikely we'd make it out there at all.

Firstly, Jim broke a finger (courtesy of that most refined of human subspecies, the black cab driver), prompting little more in the end than the booking of an extra plane ticket home, a day early, to make it to a specialist appointment; luckily for us, Jim wanted to play the first two shows regardless, and the third (Sunday eve in Cork) was semi-acoustic, and so coverable. But without his unstinting commitment, the mini-tour would have been called off at the last.

And then the first (and probably last) real snowstorm to affect London and the south-east this winter practically brought the capitol to a standstill on Thursday morning, in the process forcing the closure of all airports and inspiring the at-least-annual tragicomedy headlines and news reports. Several hours of furiously checking crash-prone websites later, and we were on our way at last, courtesy of Pete's VW van.

Arriving at Shannon in the early hours of Friday morning, and then on to Limerick immediately after, we bedded down together (a la Monkees) in Noland Folk's rehearsal space, and spent the following day exploring Limerick and rehearsing for the evening's show at Baker's Bar in the city centre. A pleasure to play with our hosts, and Andy & Yvonne again, as well as acoustic troubadour and assisting angel Smiley.

By 5 a.m Saturday morning, three of us (Amity, Alexa & I) were dispatched into the Clare countryside and the horizontal comforts of Sue's cottage, while Jim and Pete braved the all-nighter back at the Limerick house. Rising slowly Saturday lunchtime, we reconvened - also with the Falcon (Karim) having appeared to show support and hang out - in Lahinch, a pretty seaside village on the coast of Clare, and location of our second show of the trip.

A little time to relax, feast, drink and wave-dodge, and the evening was upon us; a warm and memorable show in the venue upstairs at Mrs O'Brien's Kitchen, again with Smiley, Andy & Yvonne, and Noland Folk. By now we were all singing along to each other's songs and enjoying the communal thing to the full, and the evening was a pleasure from first to last.

Unable to find a late drinking den and desperate to continue celebrations, the Falcon came good again by somehow getting the whole party (about twenty of us) into the bar of his fancy hotel just a couple of minutes up the street, and there we stayed until politely ejected at some point in the early hours of Sunday.

Another day, another journey and show, and with Jim safely on his way to the airport, the four of us eventually made it to Cork (three hours coach journey southeast) for around 8.30 in the evening. Ably looked after by Andy and the ever-helpful Smiley, we arrived at the venue - the Tiki Lounge, a lovely, converted railway arch in the city centre - to play our third and final show of the trip.

Sadly bereft of Noland Folk, who had been fighting illness all weekend and had finally succumbed, we played again with Andy & Yvonne and Smiley. After a few pints of stout to substitute our lack of food, we played a semi-acoustic show with a revised set & line-up, which (despite not having had any opportunity to rehearse this way) was a pleasure - for me, the first time I'd played some of the songs on acoustic guitar since, well, since writing them.

Further refreshment was sought elsewhere in the city before retreating back to Andy's place at some point in the hours of darkness. Monday, and it became evident that new friends wasn't all we'd picked up during the trip; Pete was reduced to a shivering, hallucinating wreck, and I was recieving the first waves of the same thing.

However, a few of us made it out into the Cork daylight to appreciate the city; a fine city indeed, and one we'll surely be returning to before long. And so, the evening journey home. Somehow Pete managed not only to stagger onto the plane, negotiate the flight and make it out into the english wind and rain at the other end, but also - and believe us, this now seems implausible at best - to drive the van back into London town and to our respective houses. It was an adventure.....

And so the wreckage of the Bride - Pete and I still bedbound, Alexa suffering too, Brokenfinger Jim & a miraculously unscathed Amity - live to fight another day, but not before another few days of recouperation.....

the anglo-irish exchange, part one
Location: the bridal suite

So we said goodbye today to our new friends and special guests over the previous few days, the very beautiful Noland Folk, who arrived fresh off the plane on Thursday and vacated the bridal suite a few hours ago. It was a pleasure to have them around, whether playing music, drinking into the early hours, or wandering around our neighbourhood shaking off nocturnal excesses.

We organised two shows for them over here, both in Stoke Newington; the first entailed our taking over our favourite underground venue/batcave at Barracuda on Friday night, and a fine evening it turned out to be. A little over-stuffed and bereft of oxygen perhaps (hey, the smoking ban is only a few months away), but the atmosphere was better than ever down there. We played late, after sets from Andy & Yvonne (infectious acoustic folk-pop from Co. Cork) and Noland Folk, who were justifiably very appreciated by N16's great and good.

Saturday night, with the memories of the previous nights' post-show escapades fresh in our minds, and a collective mother of all hangovers, we decamped to Stage B for round 2. No Bride show that night, but Andy & Yvonne opening, Noland Folk sounding even more spine-tingling, and a truly killer debut show from The Dublo.

It's the first of what we hope will be many such exchanges between adventurous, like-minded musicians. The idea is this: with the obvious benefits of the 'net and a thirst for playing pretty much anywhere where we'll have a blast, we're building up a loose network of band & artist friends around Europe, and organising exchanges between our patch of the planet and theirs.

Free from the cynical, often poisonous clutches of promoters and booking agents, we organise shows for our guests (much as we would anyway for ourselves), share the bill with them, hand over all the brass to cover their travel costs, put them up on our houses, loan them all the required gear etc. and generally look after everything.

In return, well, the same. We're bound for southwest Ireland in a couple of days, where Noland Folk and Andy & Yvonne have booked us three shows with them, in Limerick, Lahinch and Cork city, which can't fail to be memorable long weekend; playing music together, making new friends, enjoying the countryside and atlantic beaches...

Our attitude is really one of seizing the day, while we have the time, impetus and fire in our bellies to do such things. The Bride is much healthier and happier than ever before, and full of adventurous wanderlust. And if we can do these things, while breaking even on expenses and playing the music we love, well it beats another depressing weekend trapped in London town at the very least.

Beyond that, we've managed to patch together a five or six date tour of Scandinavia (incorporating Denmark, Sweden & Norway) with the same tactics, for the last week of March; for the spring and summer, there'll be more such endeavours, including a tour of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland.

It's easy to do, and restores some faith in the original reasons why we all started making music in the first place; and it's pretty much all based on reciprocal hospitality and trust - words rarely heard in mainstream music industry.

you're only supposed to blow the bloody doors off.... Italy welcomes the Bride
Location: the bridal suite

24 hours have now passed since we reluctantly stepped back onto english soil, and if anything the culture-shocking is still increasing in impact..... Three or four days in the custody of a vibrant, politicised, creative, musical, community-based scene in beautiful Ancona, and London seems less and less like the centre of the universe (if it indeed ever did).

Thanks to the activities of Hot Virus Organisation (IT) and Smartrocker (UK) - responsible for already legendary cultural exchanges between East London and Eastern Italy - we were invited into the very bosom of this enviable and all-welcoming Anconian scene, and from the minute we made it through customs to the minute we loped back through, we were treated like family, and more.

Federico (Hot Virus #1 and general master of ceremonies) and Michele (Lush Rimbaud and future mad professor) shepherded us into the waiting vehicles and towards Ancona, via a stop-off to pick up the gear from LB's rehearsal space - an isolated, ancient country farmhouse, overlooking the valley to the west and the Adriatic to the east. enough said.

With more help and vehicles arriving on the dot, most of LR's equipment (amps, leads, drums, guitars, mic's...) became MB's for the next few days, dispatched with military precision while most of us stood around in the sunshine, admiring the view. This kind of treatment, so alien to embittered, mistreated London musicians, was soon to become the norm during our entire stay.

Bedrooms were given up and prepared for us, pasta, coffee, wine, salads, cigarettes and whatever else we needed appeared before us whenever required, various friends & partners showed up to welcome us or give us a ride somewhere, and by the time the sun had gone down on Friday, we were already beyond acclimatised.

The first show was on Friday night at Circolo del Jazz, Ancona's premier Jazz club, recently opened. Surprise, Lush Rimbaud and our team of magical Italian elves took care of everything, and we began the soundcheck wondering if we'd be allowed to carry our plectrums offstage at the end of the show without them already being back at the apartment by the time we'd entertained the thought.

Dinner for the band and our squadron - as well as free drinks (which included the sampling of various local wines, liquers and spirits, a tradition we enjoyed immensely) - was taken around 10pm, and by 11.30 we were onstage. A loungey, relaxed show that suited the surroundings, and further proof that we can adapt to a variety of different venues; we played for over an hour, with a short interlude for almost the entire audience to step out into the night for a cigarette break (smoking in public places is of course banned in IT).

Although tested by tuning difficulties (flights are not kind to guitars and especially cellos) early on, playing a long set (thirteen songs) was a real pleasure, and evidently appreciated by a lovely crowd. More alcoholic hospitality and making of new friends later - our gear characteristically disappearing away in various cars and VW vans - and time to immerse ourselves in a long Ancona Friday night. Suffice to say, it was a blast; the welcome we recieved everywhere we went, and the genuine enthusiasm for what we do, was hard to believe.

Saturday, in stark contrast to Friday's warm sunshine, was shrouded in dense fog; in finest english tradition, the perfect time for a trip to the seaside. A few miles north up the coast from Ancona, and the rugged countryside and chalk beach meeting a calm and clear Adriatic was just what we needed to clear our heads before the night ahead.

Which entailed our show at CSA Kontatto, a few miles out of town in a huge, old, sandstone former school, now an anarcho-communist social centre hosting live music, media facilities, activism and cultural events. A wonderful place - various old school rooms artistically converted into a bar, chillout areas, a kitchen (with an traditional stone oven), multi-media space, rehearsal rooms and more.

At the centre of it all, a huge, high-ceiling former assembly hall is the place for live shows, now a black, red and white cavern with a large stage adorned with beautifully painted communist murals. Soundcheck, complete with several cats and a puppy chewing at the cables, preceded a banquet (that we have yet to recover from) in our honour.

Oh, how we missed the Dublin Castle and and it's entirely demoralising siblings scattered throughout London's circuit. Hours of free drinks and linguistically clumsy conversations with new friends followed, before the place suddenly became jammed full of good-natured italians, from seemingly every sub-culture and persuasion in existence. Shortly after 1 am and we were onstage.

Reviewing your own show seems a little unbecoming, so in the interests of good taste, let's just say is was far and away our best, most appreciated and enjoyable show so far. A crowd of hundreds, simultaneously attentive, excitable, full of voice (but only in the right places), and truly inspiring; the cycle of us-feeding-off-them-feeding-off-us grew more intense as the show went on, and all five of us were shivering with the feeling of being a part of something truly special.

Too many highlights to list - Amity and Alexa'a first real taste of pedestal occupation, with an ever-expanding group of pretty italian boys magnetised and open-mouthed below them throughout the show; Pete's superstar status strengthened by his own private fan club below him, responding to every townsend windmill like sugared-up five year olds; and Jim's stadium-rock posturing, with large portions of the crowd responding in swathes as he waved his sticks above his head......

Personally, the most memorable band-crowd interplay came during 'Replica'. Anyone who knows the song will realise that the verses are subtle, 'Dock of the Bay'esque passages before the choruses kick in. Imagine how hard it was to concentrate on delivering a gentle baritone when, out of nowhere, the section of the crowd nearest the stage suddenly broke out in a perfectly timed 'We Will Rock You' clap-clap-salute; this is where Jim and I, at least, blew our cool, and couldn't hold in a surge of appreciative laughter.

more than an hour later and, begrudgingly, we left the stage; the rest of the night spiralled into another haze of free alcohol, good people, everything getting taken care of so we could relax, and by 6 a.m we'd somehow regrouped and were driven home, grinning inanely and shouting our appreciation in our dreadful italian.

Ancona, we love you, and we'll be back.....

November spawned a monster, she's a beauty queen by January
Location: the bridal suite

Early January 2007, and the almost self-pitifully expected anti-climax of another new year in the poorest borough in dirty old london town somehow lacks it's traditional battleship-grey overcasting, for this year at least.

The last weekend - specifically three days, ending Sunday evening - saw the Lea Valley Delta Blues sessions culminate in an intensive and ultimately self-satisfying period of mixing and mastering, before the 16-track art-installation of a desk that temporarily controlled and channelled the lifeblood of Morning Bride.

Intensive indeed; how many times can you listen back to a song, written in blissful innocence in a Bed & Breakfast somewhere in the Outer Hebrides, brought to fruition by a band of dedicated artists gunning for the same cause, played and shot through with soul onstage by all involved multiple times, recorded as good as live and in the spirit intended, and then listened back to x-times in a row, before you just don't care if there's too much reverb on the ride cymbal?

As many times as it takes, but only if you rely on your judgement and each other to recognise the chequered flag when it appears around the next bend. The mixing sessions for the nine songs that comprise LVDB were, in truth, rarely fraught with burnt-out nerves or even differences of opinion; but to say the last couple of days weren't a test of endurance, concentration and dedication to the cause would be selling all of those involved short.

With our limited recording budget, cobbled together with depleted overdrafts, contributions from altruistic benefactors, show takings, and loose change from guilty passers-by, our timescale was pre-destined; one week to record, mix, and master an album that would define us for, at the very least, the next year out there in the real world.

Which is not to say that that we worked purely against the clock; a sub-standard, rushed anti-climax of an album would (of course) never be allowed to see the light of day. But being conscious of our imposed limitations hopefully brought out the best in our performances. With another couple of grand, it would've been a walk in the park to replicate the technical perfection (and anodyne production values) of the average million-selling MOR CD which occupies the unstained coffee tables of the mainstream record-buying public.

And with the backing of a major label and all the obese comforts it entails, we could've taken three weeks to perfect the bass drum sound. But, for the forseeable future at least, we're with a small, passionate, enthusiastic indie label, and we work entirely within our slender means. Which corresponds with our attitude towards the recording process; there are, of course, parts which are imperfect or flawed - a chord timing out here, or a dead note there - but even as an obsessive perfectioinst, such trivialities are drowned by the tide of pride and satisfaction.

There were times during the recording process when we instinctively knew when a take was the one - despite, or indeed partially because of, it being 'imperfect'. Vocal takes across the album are living, breathing testimony to our principle of feeling first, robotic accuracy last. Within our inner circle, everybody knows Amity can deliver a ridiculously perfect rendition of any of the songs on LVDB, given a short timeframe. And yet almost without exception, the versions with the most fragility and raw emotion (often the second or third takes) were favoured over the Mariah-and-Whitney shaming perfect tens that followed.

So we had limitations, as described above. But how many times does one have the opportunity to immortalise the songs, and the unique sound of a band of disperate yet united souls, in thirty-nine minutes of collective intensity, destined for the shelves of a record store? Once is better than never, and it's a rare pleasure to sit back with a full glass, listen, and appreciate the sound of a band who really adore what they do and made the most of such an opportunity.

Lea Valley Delta Blues in the can, and our last show of 2006
Location: the Bridal Suite

Recovering slowly from our double-set show at the Birdcage here in Hackney, London yesterday; thanks to all our local comrades who showed up in the wind and the rain to see us in this new local venue.

While not an ideal layout for live music, the efforts of those involved to breathe much-needed life into the Stoke Newington scene by splashing out on a decent p.a. system and establishing a weekly Sunday live show free of charge is easily worthy of our support, and to have a local promoter who pays, feeds and looks after the band is an absurdly rare novelty.

As our last show of the year (after a run of shows with our wonderful new members) it was a pleasant challenge to play our songs (and a few covers) in both styles, and good preparation for our continental adventures in the new year, when we'll be adapting to different venues and environments as we travel around.

Last Friday (the 8th) saw our final day of recording 'Lea Valley Delta Blues', meaning we've comfortably delivered our nine-song debut album in five days. A much-needed and very productive day - the time lapse between previous sessions and this final burst allowed us to see the wood and the trees, which brought out the best in our final additions to the songs.

Mixing and mastering will happen in early January, just before our Italian trip. Before then, we've a couple of rehearsals to perfect a longer, more varied set for the new year, and then we'll take a couple of weeks off to successfully ignore the seasonal consumerist hell by locking the doors and enjoying a little peace on earth. Happy holidays.

five go mad in an analogue tardis - the Lea Valley Delta Blues sessions
Location: the bridal suite

the day after an intense, mentally draining, wholly enjoyable and ultra-productive four days in the studio, recording our debut album, Lea Valley Delta Blues, with an atlantic storm raging over a leaf-carpetted north London outside.

Recording an album of (what we consider to be) beautiful, often delicate songs, using only 'traditional', non-digital equipment, in a neighbourhood about as pastoral and countryfied as the opening scenes of 28 Days Later is not as contradictory as it might at first appear.

Many of the tracks of LVDB are underpinned by the culture shocks and clashes between the mania and intensity of urban living, and the space and isolation of the countryside. While it's hardly the most original of creative concepts, it's been undeniably appropriate and influential upon the conception and delivery of this collection of songs.

And so the recording sessions - four days cocooned in Ed's all-analogue, meticulously refined studio, trapped between a six-lane underpass, a scary evangelical christian church, a half-demolished factory, ugly warehouses and dimly-lit graffiti-coated tunnels in Bow, east London - were hopefully flavoured by their surroundings. The title of the album itself (a subject for another journal entry in all likelihood) never seemed so appropriate.

Our ideal target was to record nine songs in the four days, a target now all but achieved. Day one began as all mornings were to begin; a late morning rendezvous at the bridal suite (living within 15 minutes of each other is very convenient) and into Pete's already legendary ex-Dutch army VW van, and then the stuttered journey through the East End and its worsening gridlock.

Because of the nature of the music, the style of the band when playing together and the studio itself, we decided well in advance to record as much of the music 'live' as possible. It's in our collective make-up to play off each other, ebbing and flowing together, and to not be concerned with occasional mistakes or split-second flaws - the holistic feeling of the recording is the most important aspect for us.

The four of us (minus Alexa, who couldn't make all sessions) played in a circle, with Jim, Pete and I helped along by Amity's live guide vocals. One day it may be for the best, but for now it's hard to imagine recording any other way. Hence, before the end of the first day, we'd nailed the rhythm tracks to eight songs - bass, drums and guitar - and the basic sounds were suitably live, warm and lush.

Ed's style of engineering suits us perfectly, in that he likes to get the individual and overall sounds as close to perfect from the beginning, leaving as little as possible to the mixing; spending enough time getting, for example, the perfect bass sound before recording, saves time, energy and burned-out eardrums post-recording.

Day two, and much of the time was dedicated to Pete's guitar tracks; his attention to the subleties of his sounds and the individual songs, and his spontaneous ideas for new parts, kept everybody's enthusiasm high, even when inevitable fatigue crept in after hearing the same song a dozen or more times in a row.

While the full band gear was still set up and the levels were unchanged, we decided to go for another rhythm track - giving ourselves three attempts (and no more) to get it right before moving on. Hence, 'Blue-eyed boy' was nailed, and may just appear somewhere as an extra recording over the next few months.

Four days isn't a whole lot of time to record a debut album, at least not by modern standards. There are, however, classic debuts recorded in similar, and even smaller, timeframes; the luxuries and extravagances of modern studios and recording practices, and their multiple weeks and months of fiddling around, are at best overrated, and at worst, creatively suicidal.

On the other hand, we'd no intention of rushing the recording or insisting on total completion in four days, regardless of the consequences and flaws of the recording; the results of such an attitude would doubtless speak for themselves, in that the album would sound like an oddly soulless, skeletal demo and, even more painfully, a big chance blown.

Nor had we the intention or resources to be too pedestrian; such an approach invariably drains the life from the songs, and engenders an over-analytical, unconnected attitude to each instrument or phrase.
Hence, we rolled on at just the right speed, knowing when to take a break and freshen up our aural capabilities, but never losing the concentration and focus needed to stay on track.

Jim, the most musically-minded drummer any of us have ever known, waltzed through various percussion tracks - a deceptively essential element of each recording - with consumate ease and professionalism, before the remainder of the day was spent adding bits and pieces.

Which is how day three also began - short flourishes of Vox Continental, or piano, or our beloved Casiotone, or maybe an acoustic guitar here and there. But the main part of the third day belonged to Alexa; sounding overwhelmingly beautiful from the start, the cello parts to all eight songs were played with the now-expected emotion and skill of our very own highly-rated classical musician turned bohemian defector.

With plenty of time left on day three to carry out our intention of recording a song entirely live together, we gathered round in a circle, with Pete on finger-picking guitar, Alexa on cello-as-double-bass, Amity on June C backing vocals, Jim on percussion and I on lead vocals and acoustic guitar to record the song most suited to a loose, rough, as-it-comes arrangement, 'Mother Hackney'.

The first take was pretty good, but the second take was suitably spirited, and into the can it went. With Alexa chaperoned up the road to Hackney Wick station and onto the train into the West End, the remainder of the day was spent on unarguably our most important element. With a throat still not 100% from the season's first round of colds, passed between us like a bottle of wine at a rehearsal, Amity began her lead vocals.

She chose 'Zero one zero one' to sing first, a suitably melacholy, cello-led, urban-trapped ballad as the rain swirled outside the window in the streetlights, and within the last hour or so of the day, we'd finished our first song; a very good feeling, and as with the close of each day's sessions, a few rounds of drinks (back in the bosom of the Rochester Castle) were required to unwind, reflect, and generally loosen up.

Day four, and an hour or two adding more bits and pieces, including keyboards, another acoustic guitar, etc., before Amity again took the spotlight, and proceeded to take each song somewhere special and beautiful. With a couple of hours to go, we realised to rush the final performances - a couple of Amity's lead vocals, all of mine, and several harmonies - would be unforgivable; to have come this far in four days, only to hasten the completion of vocal tracks for the sake of the clock, wasn't an option.

And so, with more than 90% of the album down, we left the studio in a collective state of pride and mild delirium; having used all our time on the important things, we came back to Stoke Newington with no roughly-mixed evidence of our endeavours over the last four days. Slightly bizarre, and also very healthy, in that a break from the songs and a refreshed perspective are a good thing right now.

A day in the second week of december is booked, which we'll use to complete the remaining vocals, perhaps add (or remove) odd musical parts, and ideally begin the process of mixing the album. A couple of days are booked at the beginning of January - enough clear blue water between the sessions to approach the record anew - to finish the mixing and mastering, and then, well, we'll have to let it go.

ARCHIVE - summer 2005 to november 2006
Location: east London

update from the bridal suite, 19th November 2006

thanks to everyone who came to see us at the Orchid Lounge on Friday night, the place pleasingly rammed and we appreciate the effort in the driving rain....

apologies for the rather crappy sound - this was on account of being promised a PA system (by Simon at the Others, as minor compensation for his venue mess-up), only for us to find this consisted of a selection of car-stereo type speakers along the walls. We live and learn.

Thanks also to those who came to see us at Alter States (at the Bassment) in Chelmsford, Essex on Wednesday night; as our debut electric show, it couldn't have been better.

We heartily recommend this wonderful night, only 35 mins out of Liverpool St - check out www.alterstates.co.uk for upcoming events.

CHANGE OF DATE & VENUE FOR N16 SHOW!

Posted: 12 Nov 2006

due to circumstances beyond our control, the date and venue have changed for this weekend's show in Stoke Newington. we're NOT now playing at the Others on Saturday, but we ARE playing at Yum Yum on Friday.....

please see the 'upcoming shows' section for details.


update from the bridal suite, 23rd october 2006

a weekend to remember.....

So, less than a fortnight of hard-working, hard-drinking, hugely enjoyable and productive rehearsals with our new members Pete & Alexa culminated in the baptism of a born-again Morning Bride this weekend.

The good people at Pogo Cafe in Hackney (www.pogocafe.co.uk) provided us with a gentle re-entry into the public eye on Friday evening, which saw us play acoustically for various old and new friends; an ideal manner in which to break ourselves in for a frenetic autumn and winter ahead.

Saturday night, and our first 'real' show, in our favourite underground basement below Barracuda on Stoke Newington Church Street. Despite the heavens remaining open for much of the evening, we were happy to play before a packed house..... and quite how a first show together could sound and feel so good is still presently beyond us.

an ideal (semi-acoustic) sound, a suitably glowing atmosphere and the enthusiasm of a distinctly lovely crowd resulted in more than an hour of old and new songs (and even singalongs... the postmodern Chas and Dave indeed) and - for the three 'old' members of the band - the curious shock of our best show to date.

For those of you who came, thanks a lot, the pleasure really was all ours; for those who didn't - you missed a killer, but there wasn't room for you anyway. We're now concentrating on our upcoming LP recording sessions, as well as preparing for at least two shows, all next month; hence, for the next while at least, we're reverting to a fully electrified Bride...

update from the bridal suite, 6th october 2006

ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.......

After several bottles of red and a couple of wonderful rehearsals, we're very excited to announce some revelatory changes in the band......

We'd like to welcome the formidable talents of Pete and Alexa to the fold. Pete is our new guitar player who we've been a fan of for many years, and Alexa is a spine-tingling cellist who was thrown into our path by a very considerate universe.....

A new focus, commitment and overall sound are already evident and we're looking forward to stepping up activities by many times over the coming weeks and months.

At the same time, we're sorry to lose the wonderful talents of founder member Fabio due to other commitments, who was a pleasure to work with and shall be sadly missed; we wish him all the best with his other projects.

The all-new, rejuvenated Morning Bride will debut at Barracuda on Stoke Newington Church Street, London N16, on Saturday 21st October - it'll be a night to remember.

Our LP deal with indie label Letterbox Records is now as good as finalised, and we're very excited to be working with them.

We go into the studio in November to record this, our debut long player, with a new line up and new songs (as well as old favourites....).

We're in the process of booking many more shows for the near future - if anybody has any bright ideas regarding where Morning Bride should play, do email us via the contact page.

looking forward to a very productive winter......

Mark (for Morning Bride) x

update from the bridal suite, 11th september 2006

Back in the bosom of Mother Hackney, after a fine three-month sabbatical out of England; and looking forward to an autumn of rich and varied musical activities.

We're in the process of booking shows for Sep, Oct and Nov, we've a clutch of new songs to breathe life into, and by the end of the week, we should have some very good news to report. Check back anon....


New single sold out - but now free to download

Posted: 26 Jun 2006

Our second self-released single, 'This place is no place for harbouring angels' / 'Blue eyed boy', has now fully sold out; launched in April, we figure it's about time we altruistically offered it for your listening pleasure......

both songs, as well as the debut single, are available to download free on the music page.

update from the bridal suite, 25th may 2006

Glowing from another extremely enjoyable show, this time within the intimate and atmospheric batcave below Barracuda in our native Stoke Newington. Fairylights, candles, a clear & warm sound and a mighty fine audience all added to the pleasure.....

Big thanks to everyone who came, especially on a weeknight complete with driving heavy rain. It was in many ways the ideal circumstances for us to do our semi-acoustic thing; the subtleties of piano, glockenspiel, organ, violin, guitars and voices often suffer in lesser environs, but last night was as good as it gets.

It may be our last show for a while on account of extended travels in the summer; if so, what a perfect way to temporarily bow out......


update from the bridal suite, 18th May 2006

Thanks to those who came to see us at the Grey Horse in Kingston last night, and to the lovely Threewheeler for inviting us (and playing beautifully, despite whiplash...)

It was the first of two intimate semi-acoustic shows we're playing this month, the second of which is at Barracuda, Stoke Newington Church St., next Wednesday (24th - see above); hope to see you there.

update from the bridal suite, 9th May 2005

two shows are now finalised for later this month, in Kingston-upon-Thames & Stoke Newington (see above).

Our first single, originally released in November and now sold out, is available to download free from the music page.... our new single can be ordered from the very same place.

Recording sessions are presently being arranged for next month, when we hope to commit 5 or 6 new songs to tape with a view to a special autumn release. Watch this space......

update from the bridal suite, 2nd april 2006

in recovery from a truly memorable launch party last night, at the Others here in Stoke Newington, London town;
a fine evening by any standards, not least on account of the (more than) full house and CD sales - it's now temporarily out of stock, but a second run will happen later this month......

thankyou to everyone who made it such a success, and especially to those who helped altruistically in making it all happen - you know who you are. we'll be back later in the month with news of forthcoming shows, and - hopefully - with some pretty good news as a result of last night.....

we also would like to thank everybody who showed up to our show at (the wonderful) Alter States club in Chelmsford, Essex last month - another fine show indeed. Pictures of the show are online at www.fragga.co.uk/ragmop/?s=18

if you waste your time with such things, we're also now on the blessing/curse that is myspace - come join us if so.
www.myspace.com/morningbride

NEW SINGLE LAUNCH PARTY CONFIRMED - Saturday 1st April 2006

The launch party for Morning Bride's new double A side single - 'this place is no place for harbouring angels'/'blue eyed boy' - is to take place at The Others, 6-8 Manor Rd, London N16 on Saturday 1st April 2006....

8.30 - 1a.m. Only £3.50 on the door INCLUDING free CD. arrive early to avoid disappointment.....

special guests for the evening have now been confirmed:
Mike Gibson of city farmers fame will be playing a special acoustic set (www.myspace.com/cityfarmers www.cityfarmers.co.uk),
and Luc Owl will be transmitting his frankly genius interactive storytelling from the stage.

morning bride on totallyradio.com, friday 17th february 2006

the much-lauded, americana-themed internet radio show 'the gilded palace' features morning bride on the new programme available this friday 17th february.

It's temporarily free to download and a fantastic show generally, so tune into www.totallyradio.com, prick up your ears and enjoy....

the reviews section of our pretty site has now been revamped, with all recent live and debut single reviews available in a user-friendly format; go sniff around if you've a few minutes to kill.

update from the bridal suite, 3rd february 2006

thanks to everyone who defied gridlock and sub-zero temperatures to come to Whats Cookin at the Sheepwalk in Leytonstone on wednesday; we had a blast, and didn't expect to see so many of you out there - filling the place under the circumstances was a nice surpise indeed.

Thanks also to local comrades the Bikini Beach Band for helping us out and providing fine entertainment after our show - always a pleasure.

update from the bridal suite, 18th january 2006

fresh (and somewhat damaged) from our Brighton adventure, and all the better for it; a memorable show before a very lovely crowd, in the faded-glamour surroundings of the Hanbury Ballroom, with the beach just a kiss away.... our idea of a perfect show, in fact.

Warm respect and gratitude to our fine hosts at The Gilded Palace of Sin, who went to great lengths to make life ultra-easy for for us - we recommend anybody who is in the area to check their website (www.thegildedpalaceofsin.com), and go see whatever it is they've got coming up - it's bound to entirely worthwhile.

We're looking forward to playing another show there in the near future, but in the meantime, we've several shows closer to home coming up; the next one is back in London, this time in Leytonstone - see above for details.


STOP PRESS - MORNING BRIDE PLAY BRIGHTON, TUESDAY 17TH JANUARY 2006

we're very happy to report that next tuesday - the 17th - we've been invited to play THE GILDED PALACE OF SIN at the Hanbury Ballroom in sunny Brighton.

very short notice we know, but a great opportunity to begin the new year at perhaps the UK's most esteemed and revered americana / alt.country club.

all info at www.thegildedpalaceofsin.com

and while you're here, head over to the reviews page for direct links to a selection of recent live and single reviews......

update from the bridal suite, 1st january 2006

happy new year to all our friends and comrades in blighty and elsewhere......

little to report apart from a mighty fine festive period, and a killer new years' shindig last night in our manor - Mark and Jim would like to thank everyone who came to Club Soda at Bar Lorca in Stoke Newington and made it such an entertaining and debauched evening.

The coming weeks will see some improvements to this, our mystic portal, with opportunities to buy our music both online and otherwise, various new photos and reviews uploaded, a selection of choice links and a host of other minor tweaks to make your stay here more comfortable.

our next confirmed show is at What's Cookin' in Leytonstone, east London on february 1st (see above), but we expect to be playing with increased regularity in early 2006, so keep checking in for latest updates.

once again, a very happy new year from Morning Bride. here's to a productive and enjoyable 2006.........

new reviews now online

Posted: 15 Dec 2005

Bored at work? or just bored? there are a further two reviews on the net of our recent live shows, at:-

www.music-news.com (live reviews)
www.freq.org.uk (live reviews - scroll down)

direct links are on our 'reviews' page.

enjoy!