Space Between

I have quite visceral memories of writing Space Between, as I often do when songs arrive quickly and depart forcefully, not unlike an ejection reflex in birth. Sat in my tiny studio space in Hove one evening, (now transformed into the rather swish Farm Road Studios) I was crouched over the keyboard and full to the brim of those earth-sized-existential questions. Frustrated and cynical were two things I tried desperately not to be, always dreaming of a more hopeful and positive mindset, but in reality my early twenties was darkness wrapped up in a smiley face, and when I was alone and writing, the truth was unavoidable .

The lyric refers to the feeling of stuck in a ‘space between’ thought and action. The knowing of suffering in this ultra-connected modern world can be paralysing, and I was often faced in conversation by a narrative which made me feel uneasy. This idea that all must descend into chaos in order to rebuild. There is anger in this song about that notion because I felt that it was a terrifying prospect and an irresponsible outlook on life. There are many who would disagree with me I’m sure, but songwriting is the way I often I process these questions which have no answers.

Musically I feel like this is a slight departure from the rest of the record. It felt somehow like an outlier, it was a late addition to the tracklisting and an exercise in letting go and trusting both the process and in my case, Matt Ingram, producer/drummer extraordinaire. It was an enjoyable leap of faith in amongst lots of safer decisions.

Listening to the demo (Oct, 17) which I have decided not to share, partly due to keeping the process a mystery but mostly because of embarrassment, it feels like a frayed collection of ideas. Not yet hemmed in but definitely the same palette that made it onto the record. One of my favourite elements is the sound which starts the song. To the best of our memory, Matt & I think it was something being patched incorrectly through the tape echo, which is always the best way create something- accidentally. My drummer at the time, the inimitable Daphne Koskeridou, played it live via trigger pad and it was a favourite moment of mine every show.

In Feb 2020, just before the world did actually descend into chaos because of a worldwide pandemic, my sister and I were on the set for Laurel Tree. Scarlet (said sister) was co-producing and directing the music video and on our second day of filming we tried using this very thick textured piece of glass to film through. The result wasn’t what was desired for Laurel Tree but instead became the lyric video for Space Between, which was one of a few lockdown video projects I ended up making for this album campaign.

I have been trying to revisit these songs, see them in a different light. They feel separate from me now, a space between if you will, and I’m trying to find a way back in. I’ve returned to my guitar after years of feeling like I just couldn’t get in. The piano as an instrument as always spoken to me in a much more inviting way, never intimidating or hidden and easy to access. The guitar has always felt like a difficult acquaintance, one whom I need to tread carefully with, ask the right questions or I might not get anything back. In this somewhat undoing of my previous self, the challenge now intrigues me. If I can survive a life with two small children, surely this guitar lark will be a doddle. We’ll see.

For now I have started by playing around with some of the album on guitar, here’s Space Between, recorded in the church where I run my choir, just before our session last week:

B x