Once we were records and radios...
Now we are stones in a stream
(May 29, 2025)
I played my first solo show in a loud, smoke-filled front bar in Launceston in April 2004.
Twenty years later, I marked the occasion with a once-off retrospective in the quiet and smokeless Kunanyi Folk Club in Nipaluna/Hobart. We recorded it, mixed and mastered it, and then I dubbed it onto cassette.
Twenty cassettes, actually. One for each year. You can buy one, if you want.
The album is called Nothing is Enough. Seemed fair enough.
Twenty years later, I marked the occasion with a once-off retrospective in the quiet and smokeless Kunanyi Folk Club in Nipaluna/Hobart. We recorded it, mixed and mastered it, and then I dubbed it onto cassette.
Twenty cassettes, actually. One for each year. You can buy one, if you want.
The album is called Nothing is Enough. Seemed fair enough.
I went offline about the same time as we recorded Nothing is Enough. I did the tour for The Eye Begins to See, then came home, went offline and pretty much stayed there. I popped onto socials for a minute there and felt like I'd entered a sugar-fueled stock exchange-themed kid's party.
So, I'm pretty much offline these days.
I'm old enough to have seen so many versions of The New Thing and The New Normal come and go that I've just learned to tune out the noise. People will forever tell artists that you've gotta do a whole bunch of things you don't want to do to be able to do the things you're called to do. That sounds to me like self-abuse. They'll say you've got to sell yourself. Do ya, though? Do we really need to sell ourselves?
I'm no salesman. I'm not even a promoter. I move slow and make things. If you like my things, you can buy em. If you really like em, tell your friends. If you really like em, go shout it from the mountains or something. Seems fair enough.
Life offline is actually pretty great. It's what your grandparents used to call "life".
Also, I recorded an EP with an 8-piece band live on a Tuesday in Mona's Frying Pan Studios. It's called Living Light, and it's being pressed to vinyl as we speak. I think I will release a new song every full moon, or maybe just release it on vinyl.
Gotta get back into the real.
Take care,
Daniel
29 May 2025
This was first published as a newsletter on 29/5/25. Sign up if you want to receive this stuff before the rest of the world.
So, I'm pretty much offline these days.
I'm old enough to have seen so many versions of The New Thing and The New Normal come and go that I've just learned to tune out the noise. People will forever tell artists that you've gotta do a whole bunch of things you don't want to do to be able to do the things you're called to do. That sounds to me like self-abuse. They'll say you've got to sell yourself. Do ya, though? Do we really need to sell ourselves?
I'm no salesman. I'm not even a promoter. I move slow and make things. If you like my things, you can buy em. If you really like em, tell your friends. If you really like em, go shout it from the mountains or something. Seems fair enough.
Life offline is actually pretty great. It's what your grandparents used to call "life".
Also, I recorded an EP with an 8-piece band live on a Tuesday in Mona's Frying Pan Studios. It's called Living Light, and it's being pressed to vinyl as we speak. I think I will release a new song every full moon, or maybe just release it on vinyl.
Gotta get back into the real.
Take care,
Daniel
29 May 2025
This was first published as a newsletter on 29/5/25. Sign up if you want to receive this stuff before the rest of the world.
