Hey Negrita - The Last Blog!
Ladies and Gentlemen of the mighty TMF,
I would like to welcome you to this, my fifth and final transmission on your most esteemed site, and I would like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to unleash ‘the beast within’ over the last few weeks. Now that our album is out there for you to admire, condemn, steal or acquire through genuine commercial channels, there is little left for me to do other than clean up the mess we have left behind and start work on the next record. But, before I say my salty farewells, I would like to give you a little update on what we’ve been up to over the past week and what we’ve got planned for the foreseeable future.
Let us start with last Thursday’s album launch at London Dingwalls, where things got a little hairy when one of our support bands decided to pick up the soundman and throw him off the stage for trying to cut their set short. Insults flew, the blame shifted and before we knew it security guards were charging around like pumped up weasels in search of a royal orgy. Within a few sweat-stained minutes we were informed that the venue was to be shut down imminently and that, after all the preparation and bullshit of the previous weeks, we would not be allowed to perform at our own album launch. Word quickly spread and, before we could as much as fart in protest against the absurdity of the situation, there was a queue of feisty punters angrily demanding their money back from the petrified chick, who had barricaded herself inside the box office.
Thanks to the mellow demeanour of the promoter and some frantic negotiations with the infuriated soundman, the support band was paid and politely asked to leave the building so the show could go on as planned. Luckily the venue was rammed and the crowd was up for booze and boogies, so we tore our way through a mammoth set that included both full band and acoustic performances and covered material from all our albums. We played for close to two hours, with the highlight being the appearance of the brass band on ‘The Last Thing That I Do.’ When the horns blew and the crowd went nuts it became clear to me that the gods of rock n roll must have appreciated last week’s sacrifice and that they were smiling down on us at last.
Following a weekend of radio interviews, heavy boozing and an acoustic performance in Cheltenham, our album finally hit the shops on Monday morning. By lunchtime we were informed that HMV had sold out and that a second shipment was already on its way. Having entered the UK Americana Chart in second place a few weeks previously, the album quickly climbed to No. 28 on the Amazon Country Chart. In fact, it was only the digital bugs that resided deep within the swollen guts of both Amazon and iTunes that ended up depriving us of our first real shot at a decent position in the prestigious UK Album Chart. But, to be completely honest, who gives a shit? The CDs are flying off the shelves, the gig offers are flooding in and some cheeky buggers even made a quick buck when they took advantage of the technical meltdown and flogged their pre-ordered CD’s for £18 a pop. Happy fucking days!
But enough of all that rubbish. It is time for me to grab this blog firmly by the buttocks and, with a swift flick of the wrist, squeeze out a few moist truths about my Negrita-oriented plans for the rest of the year. First of all there is our appearance at In The City in Manchester on October 19, followed by a steadily increasing number of live dates around the country. When the gigging is done and the hangovers subside it will be time for us to start pre-production on our fifth album. After five years of making records under the Hey Negrita moniker, I am more determined than ever to ensure that the raw collection of rum-soaked musings I am currently tweaking will consist of so potent a brew that they will cause the assholes of even the most hardened critics to pucker without remorse.
Although the details I can deliver on the project at this stage are pretty limited, I am excited to say that several of the twenty or so songs in the running will be marinated in a heady concoction of vintage keys, the stunningly spaced-out sway of Spencer Cullum’s pedal steel and more Dixie brass than you can shake a chubby dick at. Between the solemn promise of our long time producer and musical collaborator, Richie Kayvan, to sit at the helm once more, and the drunken threats of legendary heavy metal producer, Tom Allom (Black Sabbath, Judas Priest), to mix the record, we are already bracing ourselves for one hell of a session.
So, without any further ado, I would like to bid you all farewell until the next time our paths cross on the digital highway. Thanks for listening, it’s been a real thrill…