The Official Chris Difford Website

It’s all Going Off

It’s all Going Off!

Writing weeks are stacking up and at first I had no idea where I was going, but now I think I do. Writing is a wonderful gift, im so lucky to be able to sit and write songs, words flow and the future is unlocked, for now at least. These chilly months are a good time to nest and bed in new verses and choruses, as these grey day’s zip by while I sit here in my office. I have grappled with my book, trying so hard not to upset anyone but remain true to the ark of the story, and it’s a gentle story. I have enjoyed the process of writing about the way my life has trickled down into the pond of self-expression. There I can see my reflection for the first time, and I learn more about myself with each line. Some of it not an easy read, and some tenderly rolled away under heaps of well-worn carpet for another day. One day I’m working on the book, another day I’m on the album, and the album words are feeling good, I’m spending more time being with them and magnifying each story as each line tips out on to the page.

The act of writing can take time to adapt to, after such a long break, its like putting on an old suit, at first strange then it quickly becomes like an old friend. The casual swanky retire to the old often amuses me, as i drift back in time to a word. The chatter of the new divides my mind, I research the horizon for new ideas. Words are calved like wood for whomever I work with. This outflow is for the top drawer of a 44-year long friendship and partnership that defines my life. Even for its up and its downs the redemption of the divine includes me, even when it feels distant and alien. My focus turns to and fro, the book, the album and then back, to be in this warm place I sit upright at my desk and squirrel away into the deep recesses of my imagination. My eye is often drawn away by some outside energy, like the internet, the constant rolling news of life which seems to be sprayed at us from a water cannon of helplessness. I can see the drip drip feeds of news tapping on my Safari window, a gentle finger of distraction. I often seep away into social media too, with its colourful disjointed feeds. Short lines buzz and intrigue. Medium is the best place to read true stories, no fake ones here! and inventive thoughts, if you need some distraction. Check it out. Then it’s back to the words, the endless scurry of word and words.

Sometimes where we live drifts pass us like wood on a river, and often i look out of the window to see the Sussex Downs rolling down towards me with wonder. I sit and look up and see the blue sky, the cold blue sky of March kissing the shape of the hills before me. How often do I get out there, not often as I should. My Vicar Peter Owen Jones knows the landscape well and his program on the downs this last week was wonderful to watch. If its not here it will be on the U Tube thing. He walks and I sit in doors and watch what is right outside, and I feel disgraceful, but with March in our pockets its time to March on, March forward. I have time, or I will make time to walk more and be in the very heartbeat of my soul. I have the boots, but not the wet gear. I have a stick for walking too. Time to Idle even, time to exaggerate time with nothing more than a few passing thoughts without the aid of a digital net to catch my feelings, a little like the 70’s.

My car is a place of solace and inspiration, my stereo on wheels where I lose myself in other people’s music, and words. Listen to the Divine Comedy album, its a journey, and then listen to Chris Wood’s ‘So Much To Defend’, pure genus and then listen and love St. Paul & The Broken Bones – Sea of Noise. And not forgetting Boo Hewerdine’s ‘Swimming in Mercury’ Also, not only but, there is a new Strypes album on its way, I wish I had a tittle for you, look out here it comes soon. In other worlds, come to the Joy Festival which I’m curating this June, details here. there will be lots of great music on offer and some very special guests. I love my job. All of them.

Remember when someone bought a new car and everyone in the street came out to see it? remember when you had to go to HMV in Oxford Street for all the best music imports? remember when TV was only a few channels and watching Morcombe and Wise was a big draw, remember? remember when radio was not such a snob? remember when you couldn’t reach certain magazines in shops? and now you can. I think. Remember when dancing was all the rage and everyone was into it? remember when driving through London took 30 minutes. And there was no M25? remember when planes were smaller and scary but felt more like being in a suitcase? rather than being in a tin can. Remember when phones had wires and you knew your number off by heart? remember when there was no internet and we all had colouring in books and jigsaws? remember all these things and your may age. Feel free to tell me what you remember here,

Pretty colours and fireworks, here we go! Visit my new website, you are here maybe already, it’s a place of modernisation, the new. Change, it’s the standing still but going somewhere. Thank you Andy for all of your dedication and endless emails. Andy is the chap who built this digital home for my nonsense.