The Official Chris Difford Website

Chris Difford Tour Poster



Being on tour is something I really enjoy, seeing people and being with people is part of my experience as a performer. I will be playing songs from the Squeeze catalogue and from the solo albums I have recorded over the last 23 years. My story is told though stand up and some sit down, a trip back to my council estate in South London, from my very first lyrical expression to the dressing rooms of this show. With some new songs written composed over the last four years with Boo Hewerdine I tell a story of celebration, 25 years writing lyrics and playing on stages big and small. A journey I look back on with great fondness and gratitude. I can’t wait to climb back on stage and perform, although I have been shy in the past I now find myself feasting on the here and now deep within the shell like of your ear.

On some of the shows I will be joined on stage by Melvin Duffy on his pedal steel and together we will deliver an evening of warm and I hope funny stories. Melvin’s playing is outstanding and I feel so lucky to have him as my sideman, he cries over the songs and makes them sound always amazing.

‘Not Only… But Also’ is not just a look back on 50 lyrical years, it’s a journey that asks, What Happened? What happened to all those years and mates I grew up with before I formed a band. I hope you enjoy this new show for 2023.

  • 10 Nov 2023
    The Hub
    Hampton, UK
  • 12 Nov 2023
    The Maltings
    Wells-Next-the-Sea, UK
  • 13 Nov 2023
    The Quay
    Sudbury, UK
  • 16 Nov 2023
    The Greystones
    Sheffield, UK
  • 17 Nov 2023
    Ropery Hall
    Barton upon Humber, UK
  • 18 Nov 2023
    Theatre Severn
    Shrewsbury, UK
  • 24 Nov 2023
    Acapela Studio
    Cardiff, UK
  • 25 Nov 2023
    The Arc
    Winchester, UK
  • 26 Nov 2023
    Bacon Theatre
    Cheltenham, UK
  • 27 Nov 2023
    Hanger Farm Arts Centre
    Southampton, UK
  • 29 Nov 2023
    Huntingdon Hall
    Worcester, UK
  • 30 Nov 2023
    Chapel Arts Centre
    Bath, UK
  • 1 Dec 2023
    Pound Arts Centre
    Corsham, UK
  • 2 Dec 2023
    Speigeltent, Piece Hall
    Halifax, UK
  • 3 Dec 2023
    Town Hall
    Skipton, UK
  • 15 Dec 2023
    West End Centre
    Aldershot, UK
  • 16 Dec 2023
    Ashcroft Arts Centre
    Fareham, UK
  • 24 Jan 2024
    Assembly Rooms
    Melbourne, UK
  • 25 Jan 2024
    The Hub at St Mary's
    Lichfield , UK
  • 26 Jan 2024
    The Music Room, Philharmonic Hall
    Liverpool, UK
  • 27 Jan 2024
    Helmsley Arts Centre
    Helmsley, UK
  • 28 Jan 2024
    Chester, UK
  • 29 Jan 2024
    Barnoldswick Music Centre
    Barnoldswick, UK
  • 30 Jan 2024
    The Witham
    Barnard Castle, UK
  • 31 Jan 2024
    The Fire Station
    Sunderland, UK
  • 1 Feb 2024
    Old Fire Station
    Carlisle, UK
  • 3 Feb 2024
    Irvine Harbour Arts Centre
    Irvine Harbour, UK
  • 4 Feb 2024
    Scarborough Spa
    Scarborough, UK
  • 14 Feb 2024
    Plough Arts
    Torrington, UK
  • 15 Feb 2024
    The Acorn
    Penzance, UK
  • 16 Feb 2024
    St Mary Parish Hall
    Bude, UK
  • 17 Feb 2024
    Memorial Hall
    Washford, UK
  • 18 Feb 2024
    The Met
    Abertilery, UK
  • 19 Feb 2024
    The Crooked Billet
    Henley on Thames, UK
  • 23 Feb 2024
    Dunmow Music Club
    Great Dunmow, UK
    Coming Soon
  • 24 Feb 2024
    Dunmow Music Club
    Great Dunmow, UK
  • 7 Mar 2024
    MET Arts Centre
    Bury, UK
  • 8 Mar 2024
    Rough Trade
    Nottingham, UK
  • 9 Mar 2024
    Haslemere Hall
    Haslemere, UK
  • 10 Mar 2024
    Leytonstone Social Club
    Leytonstone, UK
    Coming Soon
  • 23 Mar 2024
    Login Lounge
    Camberley, UK
  • 6 Jun 2024
    St Mary's
    Cobham, UK
  • 7 Jun 2024
    London, UK
Chicago today, a Sunday roast would not go a miss but thats three or more weeks away, today it’s all about Mexican food and the show. I can see the city from the venue, it’s like being in Croydon looking back into London, very tempting. Over the years we have played many times here but never in this new venue just on the poke of out of town, this invites another day of dressing room capers and doing my washing, there were two machines and a line of bags waiting to get the weekly tumble, underpants for days. In the bad old good old days I blacked out here after a night at Bucket of Suds a bar in a dodgy part of town a bar left over from the probation days. Behind the main bar a workshop of burners and what looked like a chemistry set brewing up the Elixir of Life, a red very sweet drink that had me floored and ripped inside out, back at my hotel room the room spun out of control, I was in the tumble dryer of pre sobriety, by some years. Life seemed ok, I was on the slippery slope I was topping up and letting go I was being one of those guys in a rock band who thought I knew best because I was on stage I was in a band but I was also a wanker.  It’s now three weeks away the great migration back to autumn and the changing grey of October. Home is halfway down the date sheet, with a pair of jeans in the dryer, on a day when the dressing rooms of this venue kept me from the bus. Hey welcome to the theatre the place where stories thrive, and all who see will listen to adventure and mine the diamonds that shine among the coal, welcome to the theatre of the soul. What a memorable night, a young audience a vibe in the room to reach all vibes and a dressing room with no drawings of cocks on the wall instead just wonderful wallpaper. Chicago, a hell of city just off in the distance this time, see you again for more of the journey. Nights like these keep the journey growing stronger, looking back to see the future from the sofa of the present moment.
Detroit on a Saturday morning to the right of the bus it looks vacant and not too safe but to the right a little less so. It’s a city on the return I’m told and by the look of a few nice shops it could be, yet it feels a bit like Deptford in the 70’s. The Fillmore is a grand old building a place of great music and like the city itself full of music history with Motown just up the street. It’s a long hang about today as our show is later than usual, lots of staving off naps and hovering through each hour. We played here in Detroit supporting The Tubes moons many ago, the promoter stuck April Wine on the bill, a bit loud they were. The curtain went up the audience expecting loud April Wine only to hear five skinny blokes from South London racing through their set. Bottles and cans rained down on us so we cut the set short and ran for cover, I wonder what happened to them. I loved touring with the Tubes such nice people who taught me many touring tricks, mostly bad ones. My belly cries out for some healthy food it’s not been good, must try harder the old tour belly is churning. A full house tonight a roaring set and another day on a wooden stage, a clockwork set burning holes in the passing memory while the various flavors of reality simmer under a deep sweet blue sky. All bloody day sitting around and then for 75 minutes it’s all tits and teeth, funny old game. Detroit not just for the spinners. Hello my sunshine let’s head for the hills and dream of more peaceful days, more soon I’m sure from the road more travelled.
A rare treat waking up in a hotel bed, the stillness and the emptiness of sound conflicts with a normal day on the bus and the stage. I hold the moment close and want it to last forever but thats not going to happen as we rise up and over the North East of America in the coming week. It’s hard to find where my head is in all of this and what door is really going to open next, there are many options and they burn gently in a place somewhere around the corner. Nashville Indiana is not a place we have been before, it’s a nice venue and I see that Yes are playing here soon, so it must be ok. On this day in 1973 it was Maxine’s 17th birthday, she was a huge inspiration to me especially before she passed to the other place. We sat together in her garden and talked for hours and she gave me some sage advice, some of which I fell into. Her gentle way was the tenderness that nurtured our early songwriting and settled each inspired performance into the footprints of our future, and here we are today all those years down the corridor and her words still resonate with me as I ponder the next page. Life doesn’t become the past or the future it becomes the centre of all refections. Happy birthday Maxine. This picture is me singing in a nice warm jumper on stage in LA, the song most likely is ‘Strong in Reason’ and as you can see I share the stage with a muscle man, our record company thought it would be a good look. The dressing room was awash with oil and budgie smugglers, for a young man on tour it was an eye opener. A song I still love which was inspired by the wonderful John Cale, he hated the pop songs we had written and asked me to write about a muscle man, and I loved the challenge. Things have calmed down on stage as you will see if you come to our shows, if only I could wear the jumper on stage again. The show tonight was pretty good a venue miles from a major city full and jumping, it’s great to see a younger crowd enjoying a Furry Squeeze night out. @pfurs @therealjohncale
Woke up on the bus at a NASCAR racetrack in Virginia where our show sits, foggy sleep. Long day. That’s it. The bus arrives in a car park it’s 3am, breakfast at 8am. Sit around until 2pm then check sound and VIP. Hang about have diner at 5pm sit around watch man fix bus with tools. Get changed to do the show, that’s it. Got to go out on the track in a golf buggy, others take pace car, that’s it. Share stories with chaps in Furs, nap. FT Mrs Difford we miss each other so much, home looks as ever inviting. A good show that whizzed by, and then wait for the bus to leave at 1am for a day off, mostly on the bus. When I was younger these days passed quickly, aided by the odd bottle of beer, sleep was a simi conscious affair with dribbles and pain, waking with a heavy pitched roof of a head. I don’t have to suffer that today my sobriety takes first place in my life, it’s not even negotiable. Bored as the days are at least in the morning of a new day I know my side of the street is clean. That’s it.  @helpmusicians
There was a time when we thought we needed to have a security person on tour with us, Terry Kibble, on the right of this picture he was a X army commando who had been in the Falklands war and a few pubs around Blackheath. A lovely man. I remember one morning him turfing me out of bed in my hotel to go for a run, the hangover I wore that morning almost caused me to collapse with a heart attack, we made it twice around the car park. We played cards in the back of the bus all day long, we talked for hours and as luck would have it we never needed him to stand in front of us during a scuffle, he was gentle and kind and last night he passed away with his three girls around him at home. So very sad. Terry was the nicest man always there for you and always happy to spare time to sit in the bar and while away the long hours not doing anything on tour. I miss those cosy barroom days with Terry. He and my brother Les were inseparable and drunk like fish while talking a load of bollocks, that’s their words. Les and Terry are now in heaven together propping up the bar no doubt, and here in the picture David Enthoven another mentor and amazing person who is also upstairs but not at the bar, more than lightly at a meeting of recovering addicts. Touring was a blur in those days, today less so although the fragility of age does play its part in how I compose myself each day. Today we are in Durham playing the DPAC a venue we re opened two years ago after lockdown, here we are again. Time takes us all one by one just like cards flying from the pack only to be reshuffled in another place, perhaps a place calmer and more heavenly. A lovely Thai meal after a soundcheck and then the snooze before the wooden stage, another night here in sunny Durham where our venue is right next to a correctional facility, a stark building with tiny slits for windows. It looks grim. What a fantastic show tonight such a great audience, thank you Durham. As we left I saw our old bus driver Robin who drove us through the 80’s, he calls me Dipsey, we shared so many long tours together so nothing changes in life really it’s all on repeat. Robin knew Terry and David, memories of a road most travelled.
Nashville on a Sunday with little sleep I maybe get on average 4/5 hours a night. Which reality am I living in I wonder, the stage the bus and then there is home, a completely different kettle. The dressing rooms at the Grand Old Oprey  provide some solace each room decked out with pictures of famous country artists. A museum of county folk but then we are in Nashville. Elvis Costello introduced me to country music on our tour English Mugs back in the days of black jeans and t shirts, an eduction I’m forever grateful for. Lyrically I’m drawn to the song the storyline so important to me as a listener. Here we are in the middle of this country cake, one more slice one more day at the mast tired worn but in the flake of the day. It’s funny how you get to be in a band on tour and live so close to each other and then for months you don’t see or hear from them again, submariners deep down in the under currents of our musical journey. When we do get together we make good music, as you will discover on this tour. A fab night of hits and deep cuts. Up periscope to see the horizon where the big chair awaits. Sparkle and shine tits and teeth on the old wooden stage another night of shuffle and roll pop and circumstance.  I’m not sure it was our best performance of the tour so far but people loved it from the stalls, I was not on top form feeling the very weight of four hours sleep. Sundays are often tough nights, must be the church the roast the ease of spin on a day that curves the week into another, a blink of an eye and its all history. I came here to co write once I had high hopes but I was not ready in fact intimidated in some ways, I flew off with a few ideas. The history of country music could not be more profound within these mighty walls but rhinestones and hats were never very much me, more a nice jumper and a scarf. Sundays pass and off we go to the next venue. Bus call and bunk. Cowboy church.
It’s so nice to be still here perched on my bed in a hotel, a rare perch. Atlanta brings another day into view, a damp afternoon but a still one. We played here at Roses Canteen, a long room with darkness cradled by a handful of locals who looked at this young skinny band from England race through their set. The rest I have no idea about but I bet it was fun. It was 1978.  I discovered Fetch Park today a place you can bring your dog have a beer and let your dog chase balls and have fun with other dogs, it was amazing to watch the energy and the love. Dogs are so great they have so much love to give and when they pack they really know how to show off, I watched through the fence as people sat talking drinking and listening to Crowded House played over the speakers. Fetch Park reminded me of early tours, wagging tails running all over, barking mad and ready to roll over, I did.  I ate all the Kibble and the rest is rehab. Jayne Homer has a birthday today she has been by our side since we very first walked into A&M records in the Kings Road and I want to send her all my love, she is very much part of our tapestry. Happy days 🎂. A nap on the bus back stage followed by all the usual stuff, hanging about for hours thinking about the void and the journey beyond the stage and what to wear. It’s all go. A show outdoors a show fuelled by curry skating on thin ice and wading through each chord with abundance, enjoyable Atlanta.  What a mind blowing show shinny happy people and Mike Mills in the front row, another Atlanta a night to love and to store for future stages. The curry made me feel like a fully loaded 747 with not enough runway to take off, but I did. Somehow we all took off together.
The Wolf Trap near Washington, one of the most impressive venues on this tour, a wooden structure facing seats and a lawn, from the stage its some sight. The dressing rooms are amazing and this morning I kicked things off with doing my washing. A good mood seems to be around the camp as we trundle along the yellow brick road, I think this venue helps lifts the spirits. My washing was done in the machine so well I almost wanted to start again, I now have socks and pants for another week. My eyes are heavy with a lack of sleep but somehow I manage to keep the day sober and in vision, distant but focused at all times. My aim today is to idle as much as I can as we have a 12 hour bust trip tonight. Sting played three nights here recently on his tour, I bet he enjoyed the Wellness room down the hall, I opted for the sofa. The privilege of playing venues like these has to be contained in cotton wool not every venue has such amazing features. When we first played Washington we performed at The Hot Club, well I never. Again I have no memory of playing there. My memory of 1978/79 have resigned themselves to a dark room for peace. We certainly had great adventures and played our songs with ambition and pose. Beer, a mini bus some amps guitars and drums, a life of youthful expression. I have note pads from those days I must have a thumb. Once sound check is through it’s time to be still in a room with the light sensor so if you don’t move they stay off, if you move they flash back on, it’s a good game that passes the time, sleeping Lions. Bored yet you might be. And then when someone walks in the mood is killed the light goes on. The thing that really moves me is seeing so many people singing our songs words I wrote in the subconscious, words fallen from a deeper place than I can grasp. The smiling faces the joy of moving from one beat to another it really is something. Tonight the venue was one big cone of joy reaching out for that peak experience that’s hard to fathom. The hits can not be repeated as times change the songs will never be that sung, 45’s and under now 45’s and over. Such a great Wolf Trap night but now the reality of the bus and this sweet frail dream.
We first played in Philadelphia in 1978 at The Star Club, I remember nothing of this visit, tonight we are selling out at The Met, a large venue with really lovely catering and dressing rooms. A big day for relaxing and sleeping after a drive overnight from Boston. Breakfast, then lunch and later diner it was a real treat to have such nice food at a venue it felt almost like we were on tour. Afternoon tea a delight for us all. Our busses were penned into a cage at the side of the venue, outside the streets looked a little menacing for me so I walked very little today. VIP sound checks are surreal, you play three songs to about 12 people who look up from the stalls almost scared to see us, and I would be scared too. Once this is done they get to walk the stage and see what goes on, today not much. Over the many years we have played here I can only recall only good nights on the stage, this is our neighbourhood when on tour. The East Coast does us proud. Bushed and tuckered up I lay here on my bunk as the day slips by I have little desire to move very far from the bus, the scone tempts me to the 3rd floor and thats about it. I need to do some washing and tomorrow I think may be washing day, I saw a machine today but passed, lazy as a snail I just wanted to take it easy and purr with the generator on the bus. Outside some street art, a few police cars a burnt out house a pristine church and a few new builds that looked out of place. All of our East Coast shows have sold out that’s not bad going after all these years, outside the streets speak of  distance but inside the journey is completed by a musical whisper with the people we love, the audience. Art with a view from behind the guitar, the look of a shared experience. The joy of touring focuses the mind when time sits kindly in the palm of your hand. To be in every moment is impossible but it’s worth a try.
Placing an add in a sweet shop window in 1973 has me sitting here in Boston today, incredible. A journey of high and low altitude a journey that never completes, it’s something I find hard to hold onto when I think about it. Everything that has been is because, everything that will be is resolving over pages of mind files, images songs and travels with my pencil. Half glass full measures spoil me with reason, my tiny house of cards weaker by moments of dyslexia and turrets. Boston has always been a great place for our music it was a six night stand it was many moments of being young silly and at the front of a small stage. Memories include Bono’s hotel suite, cueing to see George Jones writing Scorpio Rising in a bar, wearing yellow pyjamas on a photo shoot. The Damned and a Chinese meal, Cheap Trick, The Tubes, Elvis Costello and  Nick Lowe with his underpants over his jeans and many more moments too scary to recall. And now let’s add the Wang Theatre to that hearty list of meaningful moments, a sold out show its fantastic to be back here. Tonight’s show really lifted me it was full to the rafters and I could feel the joy and love in the room. We played fast and spoke very little but nobody seemed to mind. Boston we used to call our home on tour it looks like it still is. Dizzy with tiredness and gratitude I sat on the bus back in the reality of overnight travel, ear plugs until dawn, above the engine I wallow in the slumber that is provided by this life. All these years we have worked hard to have nights like this smiling with the faces that travel with us and our songs, hard to top hard to write in the wake of such an experience. Thank you Boston thank you. Wang.
7am Asbury Park by the Jersey shoreline and it’s time to swap busses, oddly I’m going back into my old bus from two years ago it famously broke down one very very dark night on route to Vegas from Seattle, I hope it’s been fixed. Thunder lightning all morning long, but the bus swap went well I feel more at home on this bus, my team seem happy too, Melvin and Stephen are my house guests on this tour. My old bus went off on tour with the bass player from Guns and Roses, Duff, a nice guy by all accounts. Their set is over two hours long I can’t imagine that long on stage maybe you just need classic hits with long guitar solos in top hats. I’m happy with 75 minutes. A humid afternoon followed with just nothing much I won’t bore you with the facts but it’s good to know the same boat is where we all take cover like majestic warriors of a musical nature transposed on many stages. Tonight an early show followed by a king size journey to a day off in Boston. The stage was a little damp from a passing storm but we trotted on and lit up the evening cross winds and humidity, I think it was a really good show with its ups and downs it seems to work, the audience think so, the house was full to the sides and back and to the front, the hits raise the I phones, while the deep cuts get people looking bemused and patient for the next hit and then there it comes. The end of the set sows together all the loose ends, a bow a towel a change of shrubbery. Nothing pony about this gig. On the bus meanwhile, the new bus same as the old bus, we head off over night. Five hours of non sleep followed by a check in at 4am, my room had no light switches by the bed, outside the window people were sleeping in the car park next door, there was a microwave in the corner of my room and that was it. I felt I had landed like a fish on stony ground, I needed much more than this at 4 am, I tucked in and thought long and hard about the chaps outside in the parking lot. Another day  and the first week dissolves. I’m so touched by peoples comments on my posts i feel deeply and emotionally connected, they lift me from one breath to another, thank you so much, we tour as one. @helpmusicians
Room without a view.  2am checking in to my room at Foxwoods Casino, surreal and alien. Woman walking around with drinks chipping away at the machines, men staggering around going nowhere. Already I feel confused. Coffee orange juice and some fruit $52. Breakfast of the gambling mind, spin that wheel pull the arm fill the thrill of winning, or losing. Or both. My room was soulless so I went back to my bus, safety and familiarity and Granola. Mulling seems the order of almost everyday with a mind fermenting like a barrel of sodden apples, the very fruits of my expression diving ever deeper into a journey. Life’s journey swinging from the tree of desire complete with tidy reflections on Groundhog Day. I know I’v been here and felt this before. A bus in a parking lot behind the venue becomes more attractive than a hotel room, that’s the sum total of today, a place to nap re pack and nap again. A day of poor pasta more mulling and napping, followed by a good soundcheck with invited VIP guests, settled. For a casino this was a result a good audience who clearly loved our footprints along the way, a coming together of ticket and chord sheet a night of smiling faces. Back on the bus i sampled some pizza and congratulated myself for ending another sober day on earth possibly the biggest achievement there is. I’m so grateful for my roll of the dice, the chips may have been down once upon a time but here today a small jackpot under the gilded roof of this casino. Alone on the bus I say the serenity prayer and wait for the wheels to turn, another sleepless night in my twilight world of touring America. Turn the page. @pfurs
Give us a sign! Radio City Music Hall New York getting ready to put our name in lights. I wore ear plugs last night I fell asleep but like a goldfish I swam around and around my bowl in search of serenity and quiet and like a goldfish nothing changed. Woke up cold showered on the bus and looked up at this incredible city, it never sleeps too. Outside it’s warm it’s a hive of humans doing and being, I try to find my bus legs but have to sit down. Riley comes to the rescue and we head to a dinner for breakfast. So many fine memories of being here in the city over the years many I can’t remember so well, it’s an exciting stage to play. From CBGB’S to this old feller of a venue today. It’s so impressive inside it’s huge to look at from the stage and below decks the 100 year old hydraulics that twist the stage. A hearty meal after sound check while Riley took the credit card round the shops, he did very well out of the trip, a chip off the old block in many ways. Our show was a game of two half’s, we had a fantastic audience who clearly enjoyed the songs. It was a full house it looked amazing from where I stood. Technically not a great night and in the first half we didn’t push the ball around enough but in the second we scored a late goal and took the bow. New York our second musical home. I’m off to clean my kit for the next game. A bus journey to a bed in a casino. @cbgbs
My first night on the not so magic bus was incredibly hard work, I think I may have slept for about two hours. The doors kept flying open the road tossing us around and the constant drone of air conditioning. Not to mention the trips to the toilet where the door was broken. Tired from travel and the emotional stress of being me all took its toll. Parked outside The Egg theatre in Albany I chewed over some very heavy weather circulating in my head. I suppose I sound over privileged moaning about an expensive tour bus, I’m sorry if I do. At my age touring has to be relaxing otherwise you fry wilt and phase. Oh Albany a book I once had been given by Martha Quinn, thank you I was younger and more stupid than I am now. MTV launched our touring lives we were on all the time with our expensive videos. Life was a dream, today that dream knackers me without parole. Our first show with the Furs, tour buses all parked under the egg, they look like rock stars as they tumble into the day. I feel like the missing tourist. A day of cat napping trying to catch up before our show which was really good a fast pace a in to it crowd and thank you to our great crew. Quality of life is my tour motto without it we creek up the shallow waters of age into a harvest of retirement reeds. Tonight a show that had every ounce of why we do so well here, with quality of life taken care of we might just get to Vegas in six weeks time. Boy I need sleep I need to embrace the river as it flows so I never end up in the shallow reeds. Well being being and doing what God provides is always going to be enough, even though it sometimes never feels that way. Time for some bus slippers and a comfy chair between magic bus rides on the highway.
Stephen Talk House is where I performed on my one and only solo US tour, with Adam Levy and Dorie Jackson. I have also played here on tours with Squeeze. Early days with a broom. I was way out of my comfort zone and in some ways I still am. I remember the complete enthusiasm from the small crowd and wishing I was better than I was. I am. Breakfast by the water with Nat at my hotel, the flat waters reflecting a deep blue sky as a haze shimmers on the horizon the heat begins to build. The tour kicks off today so this very gentle moment of serenity rests with my soul and the courage to change the things I can is very much spread thickly on my toast. It’s been a long time since Freddie Laker flew me and the band over here to perform our first tour, in 1978. The goal posts have been moved,  the goal now is so very different for me but the experience of playing live still thrills me twinged with amounts of fear. Odd really. I can get through this and respect what one day might never come back, if only it was 1978 I would look at the future with a much thicker brush. Lobby call for one. Our cute VIP bus made it onto the tiny ferry off of Shelter Island and so our journey begins, from stage to stage song to song across the next 39 days of America. And then it all came flooding back the excitement of the American audience, smiles upon singing upon movement and song, one collective sea of togetherness. The years of touring here pays off when the joy of your work spills out into the universe. A loud night a full night. Time to get used to being back on a bus, the constant sound the hum and the cold rushing air across the bunks. Although I have a bed, over the engine we go. A distant world from bird song at home in Firle. I miss home as I wrestle with the night, but then it all came flooding back to me. I embraced my son Riley who came to see me, we eat pizza and talked about the steps talked about touring talked about sleep. Six weeks is a long time to be away from family and home seeing Natalie and Riley made my night. @sammyraemusic
Solo Album Discography


Let’s Be Combe Avenue (Demos, 1972)

Let’s Be Combe Avenue (Demos, 1972)

Fancy Pants

Fancy Pants

Cashmere If You Can

Cashmere If You Can

The Last Temptation of Chris

The Last Temptation of Chris

South East Side Story

South East Side Story

I Didn’t Get Where I Am

I Didn’t Get Where I Am

I Never Thought It Would Happen

I Never Thought It Would Happen