Going to try and get back into this Tumblr business. Part of my self-promotion campaign. Expect all sorts….

A beautiful music video shot for Halls, an artist I work with at Two Tap Digital. Co-incidentally the video was shot by my housemate and best friend… 

Here’s a couple of my own mixes…Their pretty chilled, deep and full of melody.

Enjoy x

Now its commonly known that at points trying to navigate your way across London Teyn is notoriously difficult. I can now fully clarify that this is very much the case, as I had one of the longest and most and irritating experiences of my life.

This was going to be a small piece about the observations I have recently made whilst journeying from place to place, however I think this well may become another anecdote and a way to vent my frustration of last nights events.

So I set out from trendy East London heading for a bed and a cup of tea at a friends in Kilburn. I don’t currently have a fixed abode so I take my chances and move around a number of very good friends willing to put me up and put up with me. Now this normally isn’t a quandary one worries about, its a simple journey really that can be made in a manner of ways. I simply choose the wrong one.

I made it to the overground station, bag on back feeling rather sorry for myself following a long night of partying and socialising, I spose causing my own downfall. However I did not expect that the next two and half hours of my life would be lost to rail replacement services, a rather emotional loud women and all manner of questions regarding bus stops. In no way was I feeling social, I no way was I feeling particular helpful and in no way was I ready for a backlash from a really drunk women about some ex that had cheated on her from Doncaster. 

I happily made it to Dalston and trotted on up to Dalston Junction to embark on the next phase of my journey with a sneaky double cheese burger in hand, only to find that Dalston Junction and the entire overground service from that point onward had been closed - Nobody had told me this. Despite having passed through two stations and read the standard Sunday closures board, this massive point had failed to be mentioned.

I was kindly guided to the replacement bus, found a seat and pondered almost happily about that cup of tea that I thought was just around the corner. It wasn’t. The bus wound its away across London, down streets I failed to realise existed, dropping people off, whilst I sat with an increasing glum out look. After asking the driver how much further it was and his response being that I still had to get another bus from West Hamstead, I considered getting off and curling up on the doorstep of one of London’s fine Georgian properties. I simply wanted comfort and sympathy from close friends, instead I got that homogenized bus seat and a knackered copy of the Mail on Sunday.

Once I finally got to the place at which I was to transfer to the second people wagon, I then had to wait for nearly 40 minutes on a rather brisk evening, with a really irate women that would not stop shouting, telling the entire bus stop about her cheating ex-boyfriend and offending at least half of its populous. She was offensive in a manner you genuinely do not see very often. During her 40 minute onslaught she managed to bring up the death of a young lad that had been hit by a bus at the same stop only two weeks ago, called an old lady ‘a cunt’ after she asked if she could please stop shouting, threaten to run out in front of a bus, call some poor tourist ‘a dirty foreigner’ and all manner of other heinous things. I actually couldn’t believe what I was hearing, it was so embarrasing and unnecessary. It made a long wait so very much longer.

However, the old lady that was earlier abused got the final word in though by standing up, moving towards the bus the nutjob was about to embark upon and scream ‘cunt’ back at her. Never have I heard an over 70 use that word. I probably never will again. A first and last I suppose. 

Eventually the next bus turned up and off we went towards Brondesbury station. People hoped on and off for seemingly an age. I waited, growing yet more impatient and unhappy. Then I noticed the bus had turned a corner and so had my fortunes. We had hit Kilburn High Road, my destination. The neon lights of the busy street seemed like a mirage, now all I had to was press the bell, jump off and find the flat I was looking for. My luck definitely took a turn for the better after we hit that street, I leaped off the bus, peered down at the map on my phone, but then realised I had actually stopped directly in front of my lodging for the evening. I knocked frantically, burst through the door, ran up the stairs to the friendly faces I was so eager to see.

I threw my bag down, moaned about my journey and was plied with tea and pizza by my most hospitable hosts. Everything I was hoping for when I got there came to fruition, even Match Of The Day 2.

But yeah when a short journey takes that long in the mind state I was in, I thought I had to share it. I really hope that the women at the bus stop woke up this morning and felt terrible. Her performance at the bus stop was genuinely awful, I’m actually surprised nobody called the Police…       

“Only by letting go of what you think you want and where you are, can you find where you truly need to be.”

We all grow up, we all move on, we all endeavour to achieve specific challenges. Now I’m a great believer in these things and the fact you need to consistently push yourself to gain pleasure in what you do. Apathy simply leads to discontent, so even does finding yourself in somewhat of a rut. I most certainly learnt this lesson before I left for South America nearly a year ago. Despite the fact I saw my best friends nearly every day, did most things I wanted, partied like it was 1999 and visited some amazing places, working a pretty remedial job as a chef and manager of BoxPizza soon got tiring and I realised things had to begin to change. It offered me little in the way of personal challenge and I soon found myself becoming distracted. My decision to go away had been one I had made a long time ago, it was always coming it was just a matter of time I spose. I’m not going to bang on about my 7 months in South America but it definitely flicked a switch in my brain that left me a lot more motivated to do something and get to a place where I was challenged and consistently learning in something I enjoy.

This realisation has come to fruition since seeing one of my closest friends leave the country and try his luck in Argentina. Having seen nothing go his way in the work arena since returning from Mexico, he made a bold decision to go it alone again, but this time in Buenos Aires. It takes some courage to move to a foriegn climate with the intention of starting a life there. New job, flat, friends, everything right from the beginning once more. It was sad to see Mr Donohoe leave, but really quite exciting, he’s going to come back with loads of stories, experiences and who knows what else? Its weird to think I won’t Andrew Dondahole, Pinkle, Snoz or any other of the many euphemisms i choose to call him by for at least 6 months. But its a period that we’re both certainly going to learn a lot more about the world and hopefully take strides towards somewhere we both want to get to.

I think its amazing what he has done, I’d like to think I’d do the same, but whether I would I actually don’t know. Therefore I wanted to document this little quandry I’ve been having since saying the final goodbyes for a while. In fact, not good bye, good journey.

Andy have an amazing 6 months…

Teyn x

Perfect for a rainy day, visual delight. Also once met the Director Pfadfinderei and he’s a nice guy, explained a lot to me abou this work.

When I’m not trying to get a real job in London in the Music Industry, I work in a pub in my home town called The Workhouse. It takes its place on one of the town’s busier roads and attracts all manner of clientele. From the lunch time drinkers, one pint wonders right through to your token smack head, I get to observe a large proportion of Northampton’s diverse demographic. Sometimes we do get the odd nut job, including one that decided to drag me across the bar at proceed to headbutt me at 6.20pm on Friday afternoon for no apparent reason.  However despite this rather untimely incident I love the place; the people that simply walk through the pub as a thoroughfare, the multitude of regulars, the stories that get shared, it really is amazing. For instance, just now I have been told of a great anecdote in which one of the regulars old drinking mates threatened to set light to a woman’s freshly permed bee-hive after she requested that the fellow turn down his television as she had a ‘child in the house’. I spose it was all in the delivery as now that I come to document it, it seems pretty callous, I don’t it was…..he is a big bloke though?

Topics that are touched on are so diverse I don’t really think I could offer a fair representation of it, so I won’t even try. But when we do have customers (not now, hence this piece) I’m rarely seen without a smile on my face due to being consistently  emerged in a conversation with someone about something no doubt outrageous, irrelevant or down right stupid. I spose the best example to date was a rather short debate that was struck up right through the pub. Regulars, Saturday football lads and two couples eating all involved deciding if monkeys had lips….needless to say they do and as a result of this fact there were a few disappointed people.

There’s plenty to tell about this watering hole. Its where to begin…