I don’t know about you, but, everything I do seems a little more daunting these days. Picking up my phone, flinching before I open the news-site, or scroll a newsfeed – only to have your worst fears realised, and doubled down upon with more grotesque upsets than you can shake a stick at.

Here, amid a sea of dystopic unrests, I present a new song, (The Tree and Me – Dec 12th) and ask people to help support an animated video to accompany it. My friends try to get people to come see their shows. Scantily clad influencers hock energy drinks. And, then it’s back to the genocides, wars, and regressive politics, ad nauseam.

The thought inevitably comes  – ‘how can you even try? Is it not in bad taste to even sing? Let alone release a new song.’ Nero playing violin as Rome burnt didn’t really serve his, albeit already lapsing legacy very well, now did it? Only then, I realise what it was that brought me to music in the first place. There’s something in music, when it’s done for the right reasons, that is endlessly empathic. A song that you feel down to bone, that shudders your spine with a sense of knowing, of understanding. It’s unifying. You find a piercing melody parts of yourself you shy from, suppress, or even don’t know you possess, perfectly represented bouncing, bending off the fabric of your speaker. Suddenly, you’re part of something. You’re not alone. You’re felt. You’re touched.

That’s the sorta songs I’m after, the ones you’d chase up cliffs, and fall flat on face attempting to realise. The new one The Tree & Me tries to put into words that very feeling. Unified Belonging, in spite of dire days. I hope you can find some solace in it. As that’s what a song should do. Free you somewhat from the shackles ever-encroaching of the bleakest days, for the briefest moment. I’ll do my best to keep releasing more and more songs, as quickly as possible. It’s the responsibility of any maker, to illustrate exactly what we stand for, what humanity represents in art, not what we butcher and bleed dry through systematic failings.  

And, so, I don’t have to start an Only Fans like Kate Nash and Lilly Allen to fund their music careers, due to the blatant racket that is Spotify streaming revenues – please consider buying a songbooklet of The Tree and Me to help cover the costs of the animated video that’s accompanying it.

I promise to make, and keep making, until all these dystopic dreary newsfeeds are chockablock with cats, talking pups, and windsurfing crows – as the Good Old Internet intended.

Praise be, Chocolate Rain.