It is the strangest thing. - The whole room is smoke and darkness; nothing but silhouettes. And, yet, to my right - in the corner - is my good friend Jim. It is a stroke of luck that his is the only face I can see because this is the face I like to see most of all at gigs. He is smiling; willing me on. And seeing how much he is enjoying the songs makes me enjoy myself even more. Knowing that there's at least one happy face out there gives me new energy and I lose myself in the music.

It is the strangest thing. - I am dancing to the same song I just couldn't shake in high school. I am singing the words like it was yesterday. I am seventeen and in the park with friends; sunshine and a boombox. - 'If she wanna rock, she rock. If she wanna roll, she roll...' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bm5TZX5hz3g) I am moved by the power of music to evoke strong, sweet memories; to transport me to another place, another time.

It is the strangest thing, being part of a one night tour family. We're just one stop but, the rest, they will carry on together and do it all over again. In this sense, it is bittersweet but we are so glad to have been a part of it.

Thank you to Benjamin and the Mash House for giving us the chance to support Stephen Kellogg and Eric Hutchinson on the Edinburgh date of their joint tour, which was a whole load of fun. - All the more so because Stephen warmly welcomed us as one of his extended tour family. But, also because I listened to Eric Hutchinson on repeat in high school!

We really enjoy support slots. - People are there to listen and engage with music in a way that doesn't often happen at pub slots. It's also far more atmospheric and professional. All our monitor mix worries were put at ease in an instant as soon as we saw Greg's face behind the desk. Greg had been on the sound desk at one of our previous gigs and did a marvellous job! As we'd expected, he made us sound great. You can find him here.

Afterwards, you get a buzz from the energy and anticipation leading to the headlining band, and it feels great to let loose and enjoy other people's music after sharing your own. Stephen and Eric are true show-gentlemen in their stage presence as it was a pleasure to be on the same bill as them. Oh, and check out the talented Hugh Kelly who was supporting alongside us!

Thank you ever so much to the Mash House for having us!

In other news, we may have done a little bit of recording with our good friend Stewart recently. - Our very talented friend Tim accompanied on fiddle. That's all I'll say for now!

Here's a poster of some of our upcoming gigs:

Collectively, we love stories. More and more, I feel that stories have become deeply embedded in our songs.

The best stories come from a deep, deep place; they are a remedy for our soul. We love a good story in the same way that we love spending time with people who interest and stimulate us. We look for the captivating and the enchanting; for anything that offers an escape from the mundane. Through our songs, we hope to tell stories. We both love a good story and, over time, we've found that the storytelling nature of our songs has become a huge element in our music. Our songs are stories; our stories are songs. We've found that this makes gigs really atmospheric for us and that, if people are listening to the words, they are able to really engage with the experience. Also, as a singer, it is really interesting to continually revisit the songs, to explore the characters, imagine what they are feeling and attempt to convey that. I feel so utterly connected to the songs and the stories. It is definitely a more challenging form of music and lyricism but an altogether more enriching one. I have found that I can really engage with the Piers and the chorus in particular is a cry of sorrow:

'All the years by the Piers,

All the years without fear.

Oh, my dear one,

How must I carry on.'

I have so many memories of this song and they stand to be the most vivid of my time as a musician. In particular, I remember performing it at the Danny Kyle stage at Celtic Connections to an eerily silent audience. I think that it is definitely my favourite song to perform, particularly because of the strong story element to it. Our songs definitely have a dark, mysterious nature about them, which I am really enjoying.

Speaking of stories, I'm currently reading Steinbeck's East of Eden. It is a very large book with very small words; perhaps the most threatening of books to an infrequent reader. I am so enamoured with Steinbeck's way with words and his incredible characters.  Nearing the end of the book, I really feel that Steinbeck is the KING of storytellers. - I am so lost in the story. Steinbeck definitely inspires me to keep on sharing our stories. 

I just thought I'd share just how much I've enjoyed how big a part of our music the stories have become, and also how exciting the prospect of developing the story and character element is. Although I, personally, write a small portion of the songs, it definitely inspires me to write more in this way. It's a very freeing, limitless prospect; a means of escapism. - My imagination can run wild where my personal experience has its boundaries.

I wrote the first half of this blog post in Edinburgh and the second in Madeira, so it's only fair that I say hello from Madeira and send a warm 'wish you were here!'

Here's a few pictures from gigs as of late:

The above is from an event we played hosted by Yelp Glasgow at Anta. - Photo credit to Alasdair Watson. Thanks to Briony for having us! The photo below is from Record Store Day at Europa Music in Stirling. - Photo credit to Gregor Boyd. Thanks to Ewen for having us once again!

 

Finally, here we are in Madeira. We are travelling with Corry's 92 year old grandad! Madeira is a
beautiful island. 

                                            

Love,

The Humors

PS. I just added a few gigs to the sidebar at the top of the homepage. But we'll have a few more dates 
to share with you soon!

Collectively, we ought to say yes more. Good things come from yes.

We've had a bit of a thing going on lately where we don't turn down a gig or an opportunity to play, simply because our main motivation in moving to Edinburgh was to do more music, to play as much as we possibly can in live venues, and it's only right that we hold ourselves to that commitment. Also, we aren't in a place to turn down live gigs yet. - Our band calendar still has plenty of space to breathe. So, saying 'yes', combined with churning out countless emails, has got us a few gigs over the last wee while. (If you fancy seeing us at said gigs, you can find them at the top left of the blog homepage.)

Saying yes isn't always easy. It means going along to the open mic night when you're just too tired after work. It means taking the only slot at the rehearsal room even though it's 10 -11 and you want to settle. It means playing venues that make you feel apprehensive. It means carting your lovable, temperamental amp and two guitars from train station to venue, venue to train station and some times up testing hills. It also means playing for free.

We recently said yes to a gig that we weren't too sure about. As the night unfolded, it would have been easier for us to leave quietly out the back just before our set time. The sound was bad, the night was unorganised and the line up clashed. Just as it was easy to go, it was a challenge to stay. And a split-second challenge we vowed to take. It was a bad gig in the sense that everything beyond our control was going wrong. But this made us all the more determined to do our best. And then to get the heck out of there.

If you're a musician, I've no doubt you've played a gig (or several) like this one. The best thing to do is put it behind you. If the odds were against you, and you know you did your best regardless, then be proud that you held it together. Just as there are bad gigs, there are good gigs and this is a story of our last gig which is probably our favourite gig so far:

We played the Tolbooth on Saturday, one of the biggest venues we'll have played since going electric; a little nerve-inducing, of course. The Tolbooth is Stirling's leading venue and is a wonder with a fantastic sound and light team. We knew that we were in safe hands so had no anxiety about sound or the monitor mix. Oddly enough, we've played the Tolbooth three times, each time with a different band name! Does anybody know them all? (I think my parents may be the only ones.) Thank you, Tolbooth, for your support over the last few years!

Saturday was a lot of fun. And isn't that the most important thing? To enjoy it? I'm slowly attempting to adjust my post-gig mindset. I have the tendency to become anxious about lyrics, timing, staying in tune; everything. How will I manage to do all of these things at once? How will I be able to be perfect at all of them? But, Saturday, marked a change because I didn't allow myself to be consumed by nerves. Instead of thinking about all the things I should be doing and how I should be doing them and all the people looking at me...Instead of thinking all these thoughts, I'm now focusing on enjoying the experiencing, connecting to the songs and also engaging with the audience. And I'm realising that that's when I play best, and that's the gigs that we get the best responses from. 

We headed home, filled with adrenaline and a gin and tonic. On the train, a man asked us to play a song. Of course, we couldn't say no. We played Not a Dollar and then had some brilliant music chat. It had been a wonderful night with wonderful people.

The gig was on Saturday. It's now Monday afternoon and I can still feel the buzz since coming off the stage; the buzz which fuelled this blogpost. If you take anything from it, let it be: 

Say yes more

&

Just enjoy it

&

After every bad gig, a good gig is just around the corner.

'Can you send us a band shot for the poster?'

And that's when we realise that all the photos of our are from gigs. In dark, dark rooms. Many with old band line ups. Today, we changed that. Here's a selection:

Thank you to Corry's mum for taking the photos!

Also, like most of you lot, we enjoy hearing good music. Here's a photo of us recently with our dearest friend, Jim, at a recent Rob Heron & The Tea Pad Orchestra gig:

Jim is constantly seeking out the best music and we're so grateful for his friendship and encouragement.

And, how's things with you?

We have never played a gig like this one.

We have played bars where not a soul listened. But we have never played a gig like this one.

There are roughly 630 people and they are all looking at us. 

Waiting. Attentively. Waiting.

This is the kind of gig where there is not a whisper of hushed chatter to be heard. 

Everybody in the room is here to listen to tonight's offerings. Intently. And the 20 minutes of original material we are about to dive in to will fall on every one of their ears. It will also be broadcast live on Celtic Music Radio. 

This is the 2016 Danny Kyle Stage at Celtic Connections in the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall and we are walking on to it; all 630-ish eyes falling on us. We have wondered just what this moment would feel like and - here we are - in it. This wasn't the first time that we had applied to play and, truth be told, we'd forgotten we'd applied and, perhaps, lost hope that we would be selected. Of course, we were delighted; delighted and terrified and delighted. 

We got the call on the Tuesday to ask if we could be there that Saturday 16th January which was the first performance in a run of two weeks. Five nominees play per night and the finalists are selected to play on the 31st of January. Yes, yes and yes. We would cancel any and all plans and practice every second we had free. 

The Edinburgh to Glasgow journey plunged us into a glorious white and fluffy snowstorm and, by the time we arrived, Glasgow was a beautiful winter scene. We were so very nervous; my heart pounded hard in my chest. 

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Not long before the night kicked off, overcome with nerves, we ventured out to the top of the Buchanan Street steps via the Royal Glasgow Concert Hall exit. Standing there, we looked down on one of Glasgow's busiest streets; an undeniably beautiful view of the winter wonderland below. I felt like I was in a snow-globe. - A beautiful, perfect snow-globe of my hometown and favourite city; some composure, some beauty, some calm. Some calm before the storm.

Nothing can prepare you for a feat like walking on to the Danny Kyle stage until you walk on to it, and see those eyes. We were nervous; so very nervous. But it propelled us. All that was left to do was enjoy it. Something that's so easy to forget; the reason why we do what we do. - Take a deep, deep breath and enjoy it. I'll always remember singing The Piers and so completely losing myself in the music and the moment. I hope I'll always have that vivid snapshot of the night in my mind. 

We were so delighted to have been a part of Celtic Connections 2016. Thank you, Liz Clarke and The Danny Kyle Stage for selecting us to play.

Lend us your ears. Here is the recording of our performance, courtesy of Celtic Music Radio:

http://listenagain.canstream.co.uk/celticpodcast/index.php?id=407

Set list is as follows:

Not a Dollar

The Piers

BDSM Blues

They're working late again...

So, yes...We ought to remember more often. - Take a deep, deep breath and enjoy it!

Here's Nikki with Danny Kyle on the night:

Five and a half years ago I met a boy. - 'Are you a singer?' he asked me. He was with a friend. How did he know? That night, I sang with them on the University of Stirling bridge and they lead me on my way. - That was the beginning of my adventures with music. The beginning of the year tends to lead us to think upon the past twelve months and also inspire motivation and change for the coming year. As 2016 begins, I am thinking back on not just 2015 but these years since that night on the bridge. My life has been more interesting, creative and fulfilled since that day because music has been a continuing part of it. 

Here it begins:

 With the raucous seven piece bluegrass band; sweaty, packed out nights at the Settle Inn, (see pic below!) with dancing on tables, a few too many drinks for everyone and the chanting of 'one more song!' Those days were exciting. I will always remember listening back to a recording of a jam the first night some of us had met as a prospective band. How excited we were to have created something together. - A feeling I have felt over and over again since then and one I am always chasing. The Lincoln County Regulators was a raucous, short-lived endeavour but one heck of a way to kick things off. I didn’t want things to end. And they didn’t.

 Along came the swing trio, the most successful musical venture so far. - Although I personally put this down to the vast number of emails sent and not any indication of musical talent! At this point in my life I was approaching the end of my time at university and had a ferocious determination to get live opportunities and as many as possible. So I sent hundreds of emails to promotors and festivals across the country, (and beyond!) to which only a very small handful replied and an even teenier portion said yes to us. We were grateful for every one. - To Birmingham Jazz and Blues Festival and Bannockburn Live, thanks for having us. To STV Glasgow, thank you so much for having us play live on the Riverside Show, which was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure but so very unforgettable. (You can relive our performance of Not a Dollar here!) To everybody else, thanks for evoking the determination in me to try and try again. To any musician who is about to take on the summer festival email marathon, I commend you.

 I've some really great memories of the summer we went to Birmingham, and some fantastic photos. (The picture below is from our gig in the Birmingham Art Gallery & Museum and is one of my favourites from any gig we've played!) Birmingham is a wonderfully creative and multicultural city. We didn't stop the whole time, rushing from gig to gig. But we cherished the experience, and the taste of the jazz festival; a slice of life as working musicians. This was a magnificent experience, but also a wake up call that to be a full time musician would be a whole lot of fun but also a heck of a lot of hard work. – Taking the road less travelled is no easy feat but sure is a worthy one.

 Whilst we often gigged out of Stirling, our music and lives were deeply rooted in the town, and have been for the last 5 and a bit years for myself, and nearly 7 for Corry. We remain the only two playing together from those early, early days. And that's why this is so important (and strange) for me to write. Stirling has truly been home for this time. Completely. - From hosting fortnightly open mics at the Settle to busking outside the Thistles Centre, Callander Jazz and Blues Festival and The Piers. (The Piers is a lovely wee area by Corton Vale and we wrote a song inspired by our cycles over to the fishermen's hut.) Our experiences in Stirling shaped our songs, our stories and our lives. My decision to go to uni felt very much like a flippant, misguided one at the time but I’m continually grateful for taking that leap; the first of several I’d take over the next few years.

 But now, just as we've changed over these last 5 years, change is coming again, and it is time for a leap in a whole new direction. Over the last year, our music has taken a turn to the dark Americana road, and we’re really enjoying exploring this genre, whilst still dipping into the jazz and blues waters we so love along the way. Although, this recent change has been a geographical one for the band: Our adventures in Stirling have come to an end, which is truly bittersweet. We've so many wonderful memories of our time there; ones that we will cherish for a long time to come. I was fortunate enough to get a full time job shortly after graduating; a job which I am heavily invested in and enjoy immensely. But demanding full time work leaves little room for anything else, and we’ve realised over the last few years just how much of ourselves we want to give to the music; it’s something we want to chase; to keep writing stories and melodies and to keep sharing them. If you were wondering why the last year was a quiet one for us, we were consumed by our jobs - Happy but, ultimately, unfulfilled with less creativity in our lives. So, in moving to Edinburgh, we hope that music can become a bigger part of our lives. I’m opting to go part time for the next wee while as some form of creative break from the last two years of 9-5 life. The hope is that, one day, this is a real possibility, and that music can be our focus. The eternal fear is looking back with regret and, no doubt, putting yourself out there is an undeniably scary thing but we’re committed to owning this year. – This is the year for a new city, new music, new people, new recordings: A year we can say that we gave it our best shot, and one we can proud of. It is too easy to sit back and wait on possibilities; this year we’re going to try to create them. And moving to Edinburgh was that first little leap.

 We’re starting with playing as much as we can, in the hope that we can meet new musicians and eventually record some material that we can be damn proud of. And new songs, that’s a given. Thanks to Tim and Siannie in particular for welcoming us so warmly to our first experience of the Edinburgh music scene. We popped along to The Antiquary in Stockbridge for their regular folk jam and played alongside some amazingly talented people. - We do hope this is a sign of things to come!

 Finally… Thank you to everybody who has been a part of our musical journey in Stirling, whether you’ve played with us, seen us at the Settle Inn or caught us busking and chucked coins at us. – Each and every one of you have made a positive impact on our music and we’re all the better for it. We're so grateful to have met some truly lovely folks, in particular, our very good friend Jim. Also, a huge thank you to Ewen at Europa, Lesley at the Settle Inn and also John at Mediterranea for all the support over the last few years. And thank you to Mandy for having us as the first (and last!) band to play at the Curly Coo. The future is open and exciting, and hopefully as kind to us as the past. We do hope it’s kind to you too.