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April 2, 2011 Comments (0) Views: 1668 Free downloads, Music, Uncategorized, Writing and Poetry

Half a chance to f**k it up

It was pretty much well over a year and half ago, maybe more, that Jim and i first spoke about releasing another record together. Leaning up against a spearmint silver hatchback in The Broomhall Centre’s car park, we quaffed over days gone by. Of Jesus Years tours with Andy, Glenn & Ritch, which systematically took in new towns and scenes, if only to see what their local fry up had to offer and do a review for our own breakfast obsessed minds.

Between ’03 and ’05 we pretty much had it all. You couldn’t go to an indie emo gig in the north without either of the aforementioned being on the bill, boozing like animals and blowing touring yanks off the stage with pure honest charm, whit and banter. You’d have to be a pretty cold hearted sell out not too miss those kind of days but you’d also have to be a slightly dilluded freak, to spend £1500 on another record six years on and achieve the same creation of euphoric memories and impulsive results. At the time of talking Audacious was completely skint, bereft of any creative ideas and isolated from any real community scene, that had in all honesty climbed up it’s own arse and vanished into solitary hibernation, as soon as Myspace arrived and made it possible for any old joker to get noticed from comfort of their own lonely bedroom. What remained for us however, was a sense that we must do something. That there had to be a way for us to continue in music and the make real the things we love doing, without spending two months wages on a thousand slabs of wax, that would take millennia to decay in Westbrook Bank’s back room.

Ideas were bashed around about interesting new methods of selling records and ingenious forms of packaging. Like album sleeves covered in appoxy resin, that stuck to your hand once you picked it up from the merch table, forcing the customer to either pay for the item or face criminal charges when they tried to leave the gig. Or the ‘download at work’ version, which was actually a virus that you had to then pay £10 to be emailed the fix for, or it would send one to your boss calling him a “Jobsworth” and confessing your disgust at how his wife ate with her mouth open when you took her to dinner last week. All of this seemed pretty feasable, we know people with the skills to do such things and we’re not shy of ruffling a few feathers to get what we want. In hindsight though we felt it didn’t really fit in with our community spirit and need to be apart of something honest, involving and proud.

The reality ended up being something quite simpler. How about we just give stuff away for free and see if people dig it? It’s not like we ever made any money from records before anyway. What we did just got pumped back into future releases, take aways and twenty bags, so we could watch Jim do eight buckets in a row and not bat an eye lid. By opening up our floodgates and dishing out our dreams willy nilly, we might evoke a sense of wonder in someone we haven’t met yet. Who wouldn’t have heard the record had we not set it loose into creative circles, we weren’t yet aware of but might very soon become very close to. The records we actually end up pressing in future might somehow become special. Hand crafted and made real into something people can hold with affection and pride. A physical marker on an historic map, with an annotated flag to wave over our own new independent country of musical culture. Standing tall and all singing together the words “Towards our futures we will thrust, ignore personal greed. We’ll create all we must, consume only what we need”.

Download Crash of Rhinos – Distal absolutely free from the following links
Bandcamp
Last FM

and buy a gatefold double vinyl soon from Triste Records, Italy

Until then, why not play it to your mum tomorrow morning. Put it in your dropbox. Upload it to mediafire. Copy it to tape for a lass or lad you’re dying to look at you in an affectionate light. Write a blog about it. Suck or slag it off. We don’t care. Making it possible was our joy, how you interpret it is entirely your part in the story alone.

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