I have in my hand a copy of our imminent mini-album, Daybreak. I'd go as far as to say that I'm proud of it.

It was recorded at the beautiful St Johns Wood studios of the mighty RAK, where we trod the same marble entryway that was once trod by Neil Young, The Cure, Radiohead, Grinderman, Finley Quaye (yes!) and Hot Chocolate. There are eight tracks. There is piano, there are vocals, there is double bass and there are drums. There are also strings, guitars, saxophones, trumpets and an organ. There's even an accordion. I know, I know, I feel choked too. It has poignance, it has tears, it has blazée humour in the face of the unencompassable void. We battled disease, perfectionism and insurmountable lethargy to bring the thing to you. Things broke, things were lost, minor internal disputes were resolved. It was finished, it was not finished, and was finished once more. It was pruned, purged, packaged, repackaged, shrink wrapped and stacked in cardboard boxes. It is now, en mass, in a flat in Finsbury Park. It is, in a word, at long long last, a beginning. We have begun.

It's official release date may yet be some time off - these things are hard to pin down, however, for the time being, you'll be able to purchase it at our gigs, despite it not yet being officially released (we need the cash).

Rx