Greetings one and all! Much as the song suggested, I have been checking my sums and it has shamefully been almost another three months since there was any kind of meaningful update on this blog or website. All my good intentions have fallen by the wayside! Since I'm growing as weary as you are of apologies for the hugely intermittent updates, I shall simply say that real life has been getting in the way (things in my day job have been pretty crazy over the past while, as well as lots of stress in the run up to my driving test - which I passed, go me!), but that I now plan to get back in the saddle of Keane geekery (and yes, this time I do mean it!).

However, the period without updates did once again fire home how quickly time flies by, and of how the speed with which it is propelled seems to increase with each passing year. Firstly, it dawned on me that one year ago today, I had the pleasure of sitting down with Mr. Tim Rice-Oxley for lunch and an extended chat about the band, their gear and the then-impending completion of the third album. "Can that really be a year ago already?" was my immediate thought. It's been quite a year, what with the new album and its many sonic twists and turns, various live shows (small and large) and lots of support and encouragement from ladies' favourite, Jesse Quin. In fact, the past year has probably been the most exciting one I've had (though that may just be proving how dull my life is generally). But in a way, it's all been such a blur and it feels like its gone by in the blink of an eye.

Thinking about the passage of time then got me delving even further into my own personal Keane past, as well as into the band's history generally. It's amazing to think that I've been following/obsessing over/stalking (delete as you feel appropriate) those three lads from Battle for five and a half years now, yet it's truly terrifying at the same time! To say that I was a young man back then would clearly be bending the definition of the word quite a bit, but in my mid(ish)-twenties it was such an exciting time - getting familiar with songs that would within the space of a year become classics, sung by thousands at festivals all over the world and becoming cornerstones of an album that would be cruelly robbed of the UK top-seller-of-2004 spot by the narrowest of margins (yes, I'm looking at you, Scissor Sisters). There was the genuine excitement of tracking down radio session recordings and old demos, with the trepidation of that initial tentative listen. The example that sticks in my mind was my first listen to a recording of Somewhere Only We Know - by that point, I had already been completely bowled over by songs like Everybody's Changing, This Is The Last Time, Bend And Break and She Has No Time, so I was surprised by how distinctly underwhelmed I was by it. Dare I say it, but it felt quite plodding and boring, with none of the hooks and charm of the others. Well, we can all get things wrong sometimes!

The joy of going to those early gigs is also something that looms large in the memory. Seeing them up-close in the Glasgow branch of Fopp for a tiny acoustic session was an amazing introduction to how good these guys were live - I remember being particularly blown away by how powerful Tom's vocals were, even in such small, lowly surroundings, and then seeing Tim pound away at that rickety, battered old Yamaha CP70 piano ignited my fascination with the quirky-yet-brilliant instrument. At the legendary King Tut's that evening, there was also the humorous site of Richard being able to walk freely through the crowd chatting to people, with most of those attending being unaware of who the band members were, having came along in response to the buzz surrounding this up-and-coming band. Even a few months down the line, that type of thing had became impossible!

Of course, this trip down memory lane wouldn't be complete without mentioning the many great people that I've gotten to know through the years as a result of being a Keane fan. Given the global appeal of the band, it's quite mad to think of the time that I signed up to the official messageboard - if my memory serves, there were just over 100 other members! Being such a small community, it made it easy to get to know people very quickly... a lot of friendships and relationships were formed as a direct result of this band and this community. Whilst some inevitably moved onto other interests and other bands, the friendships still remain and it's been a pretty magical thing really - its something I know that a lot of other people reading this share, so its not just a case of me being unable to function in a normal social level (though that is a factor, of course). Having been a fan of many other bands over the years, I've never experienced anything quite like it elsewhere... in many ways, it's almost like an extended Keane family. Complete with the same degree of trivial arguments and infuriating personality traits!

But let's leave all that aside for now and get back to the music! If we're talking about history, there is the whole other story of Keane to consider... the journey of the band from their formation as a four-piece back at home in East Sussex in 1997 through their early shows in small venues across the south of England, through the trials, tribulations and disappointments of trying to get a record deal (while having to watch as their friends and previous gig-circuit colleagues Coldplay scale ever-greater heights of success), the difficult task of re-inventing themselves and finding a new sound and approach after Dom left the band, right up to the turning point in 2003 with the release of the Fierce Panda singles. I suspect that no-one reading this will have been around in those early days (other than the band themselves, of course - I'm sure they keep checking the site daily in the hope that I've updated!), but while trawling through a load of old files on my computer the other day, I found a transcript of the news page from the old, old, old version of the KM.com site (i.e. back in the days when the band themselves were still maintaining it!).

Reading through it brought back a few interesting gems of information, some of which I thought were particularly worth sharing. First off, here's an excerpt from an entry by Richard on February 22nd 2003, where he was discussing a recent show at The Marquee in London:

Immediately of interest is the fact that Tom's Closer Now (recently resurfaced on Annie Lennox's greatest hits collection as Pattern Of My Life) was still in the set-list even in 2003, yet apparently never managed to make the final cut for the debut album sessions (unlike all the other songs around it). Perhaps even more intriguing though is the fact that they were actively rehearsing Untitled 1 with a view to playing it live - yet, unless I'm very much mistaken, it's one song that they have never actually played live at all. Maybe it's electronic, introspective vibe didn't sit comfortably alongside the more upbeat songs that formed the backbone of the set-lists... it's a shame that we never got to hear it though!

In a similar vein, another posting from Richard on April 10th 2003 revealed an even more intriguing rehearsal:

We all know Can't Stop Now of course, but the mythical Russian Farmer's Song is a song that remains a mystery to pretty much everyone. Aside from having what is surely the strangest title of any Keane track ever, it's clearly also another track that could have been a contender for at least being a b-side but has never publicly surfaced (even in demo form). Unless they just changed its name to something else and released it... but that would ruin the intrigue, so let's ignore that possibility!

Going quite a bit further back, there are a number of other tracks from the early days that have also never seen the light of day (or more accurately, never appear to have hit the file-sharing sites of the internet):

It's all pretty fascinating stuff - well, if you're as much of a geek as I am, at least! Even after all these years, there are still tonnes of unheard Keane songs out there, locked up in the vault (or on a CD buried at the bottom of Tim's attic, maybe). Hopefully, the guys will be releasing another retrospective E.P. soon (a recent comment from Tim on KM.com seemed to hint at a release of The Happy Soldier), which will offer another couple of previously-unreleased songs. In an altogether stranger twist though, even those very early tracks like Pot Of Gold may well also be given an unexpected release of sorts, albeit via an unofficial source...

A few weeks ago, a company called Video Seconds posted on the messageboard to say that they would be releasing DVDs of three early Keane shows - two from the Bull And Gate, and one from The Hope And Anchor. This caused a bit of a flurry of excitement, and the release of one song onto YouTube certainly seems to prove that the footage exists and is genuine. As with all things though, a bit of a brouhaha then developed after people had (perfectly reasonably) asked if the band were aware of the footage and had been consulted about its sale, since it wasn't coming through the official channels. The Video Seconds folks got narky in response, which then triggered off a tit-for-tat case of one-upmanship in the argument - it rumbled on for a bit before the shadowy (yet strangely alluring-sounding) figure of Jenni_admin from Keane HQ came in to lock the threads and recommend that no-one purchases it until they've investigated it fully.

This seems like a reasonable course of action to me - I'm pretty sure that there was a similar post about a release of one of these gigs back in 2005 or 2006, but nothing ever came of it (other than a blocky, postage-stamp-sized video clip of Call Me What You Like and More Matey). Having said that though, I'd say I'm cautious but hopeful... given the rarity of the material contained in those gigs, if Video Seconds can actually deliver the goods as they've claimed then I'd happily part with the cash for a copy. Whether or not they'll be allowed to release it is a different matter, of course - I can certainly understand that the band's organisation would be keen to ensure that fans aren't being ripped off (unless its through official channels, of course - a bit of satire there, folks!), so hopefully they'll be able to satisfy themselves that its legit and OK to go out (or even take it on themselves). Obviously, it's also the understatement of the year the band have moved on sonically from those days and those songs, so in one sense it might not be entirely surprising if they'd rather those rough and ready tracks from their younger selves didn't get out and detract from what they are doing now. But given that this is the type of thing that that is only going to be on-the-radar of the more hardcore fans, and they've already got most of the old demos anyway, I don't think that aspect is something that the band will worry about too much.

So, perhaps we will get a glimpse into the band's past after all and we really can get an idea of what it was like for those young men and their struggle to make it happen back in the day. Given the recent lack of b-sides on single releases, any "new" material would be much appreciated by fans and I'm sure that there's a pandora's box of previously unreleased stuff just waiting to be heard... c'mon guys, don't be scared to share some of your earlier work! After all, it's all a crucial stage on the journey that's lead to where you are today - I say embrace it, rather than run away from it!

Maybe some things are best left in the past though. Dom's hat is the first thing that springs to mind... :)

Aaaaand, we're back! First up, I owe you all an apology - I managed let the whole of January and February go by without a blog update... tsk, tsk! I'll try not to make a habit of such huge periods of inactivity - after all, I know how keen (pun very much intended) you all are to read my latest batch of prose, sitting in front of your computer on tenterhooks, hanging on my every word... ahem. OK, maybe not... but I can kid myself, can't I! My blog has new competition in the shape of the latest School Of Cool updates from a Mr. Jesse Quin Esq. - a man who, unlike myself and despite his busy playboy-rockstar schedule, provides updates on an almost-daily basis and manages to be witty, informative (about trainers, music and eclectic fashion) and charming. Hmmm, given my catastrophic lack of style and the notorious tumbleweed effect of my humour, I get the feeling that this is one particular blog battle I'm not going to win*! Nonetheless, for the three regular readers I still have left, I promise to not to leave it so long next time!

Due to the large gap between entries, there's been a few topics out there that have offered potential blog-worthy material. Only a few weeks ago, I pondered writing a blog about how I managed to concoct a new power adapter for my CP70 using a soldering iron (amazingly, I managed it without fifth-degree burns or setting the flat on fire), but I figured that might have pushed my last remaining readers over the edge, leaving them to seek solitude in the kicks haven of the JQ blog. I also considered doing an entry to cover my first experience of the Perfect Symmetry arena tour in Glasgow (complete with a vitriolic attack on the band for not taking me up on that offer of playing A Bad Dream - disgraceful!), or even an entry on the uplifting and almost-spirtual experience^† of the final O2 show of the tour, but I figured that I wouldn't be saying anything that hadn't already been said (much more succinctly!) by others. I had even written up most of an entry about the whole fiasco of the Keane Shop and Trinity Street, but given that the company then went bust a day or two before I planned to publish and people were losing their jobs, it hardly seemed appropriate and I went back to the drawing board. So, after much deliberation and cogitation, I have decided that the first much-delayed blog of 2009 should be regarding today's release of Better Than This as the third (I'm not counting Spiralling as an "official" chart-eligible single) single of the current album campaign.

Now, we've already spoken about the poor sales figures that were garnered by the release of Perfect Symmetry (the song) and the fact that it may not even have charted at all. Whether that was down to a poor radio edit (sorry Tim - it really ripped the heart out of the song!), a glossy-but-ultimately-substance-free video, poor promotion, or the more basic problem of not actually being able to find a copy anywhere, the fact remains that if the most "traditional sounding" Keane track on the album can't make the punters part with their cash, it may then be time for the band and record company to sit down and discuss what they are actually wanting to achieve with singles. It is already apparent that the singles market as a whole has been on a downward spiral for the past couple of years, so in one sense it appears that the band aren't actually that bothered about whether their singles actually score a high chart position anymore (or indeed, any chart position). The album is king, so the goal is to have a successful album that will make people sit up and take notice, thus getting them to come to gigs. However, the fact that they have previously spoken with pride about the album having a load of potential singles (and the fact that they are persisting in releasing another one, even when the previous one died on its feet) is at odds with the assumption that it doesn't matter to them - clearly, they (or at least, their record company) still believe there's value in pursuing the single market.

It is that fact which makes the circumstances of the release for Better Than This seem all the more bizarre to me. The first thing that I find very strange is that the only physical format for the release is 7" vinyl - there's no CD single at all. Now, don't get me wrong... I'm all for the fact that more and more releases nowadays are going back to have a vinyl version - it's probably a generational thing that harks back to my youth, but there is something immensely satisfying about getting an album or song on vinyl. Its the smell, the physicality of the thing and the fact that, if its been mastered well and pressed well, you can get a lovely feeling of analogue warmth from the sound that is difficult to beat. Being realistic though, most singles buyers these days are barely going to have heard of a record player, let alone own one on which to play the single... the notion of setting the correct r.p.m and cueing up the needle correctly over the run-in groove is going to be as alien as computers that use cassette tapes, blokes with mullets or MTV playing music videos. It is therefore difficult to take vinyl as a serious contender in the singles battle... it is purely a collectors item, a novelty to add to one's music collection (and, with my cynical hat on, another way for the record company to extort a bit more cash from hardcore fans). The fact that it is the only physical format you can buy for this single strikes me as border-line insanity... it's an old format that still has its place, but it doesn't make much sense to me to be pushing it onto Joe Bloggs on the high street, who is unlikely to have the hardware to play the thing. Presumably the next single (if there is one) will be released on special, ultra-limited edition reel-to-reel tape! ;)

The other problem faced by singles these days is that people need more of a reason to actually buy one. Blind devotion to a band or artist, such that you'll buy everything they release (in every format they release it in) simply because its got their name on it, is decreasing... artists need to make it worthwhile for someone to spend some cash on a song their fanbase already has on the album. This is where b-sides come into play... if a song has one or two new tracks on it, I'll go out of my way to make sure I buy a copy. Keane have had some great b-sides over the past 5 years (think of songs like Snowed Under, Thin Air and Let It Slide), but since the midway point of the Under The Iron Sea single releases, things seem to have gotten a bit lax. The occasional cover version is fair enough, I can cope with that... but I'm really not a big fan of remixes going on singles as b-sides (it reminds me too much of the Eighties, when it seemed like so many bands were either too lazy or even unable to come up with more than 10 songs, so you padded out singles with remixes or extended versions). Yet, even more bizarrely than the 7" only situation, all we get for Better Than This is a Stuart Price remix! Whilst the remix itself is pleasant enough (if you like that sort of thing), it's hardly pushing boundaries or providing real value (sorry, Stuart).

C'mon guys, you know you can do better than this (boom boom!) - I can't believe that you only had the 11 songs for the album and the 3 we've already heard that didn't make the final cut (My Shadow, Time To Go and Staring At The Ceiling), so why not have taken one or two evenings out around the touring to go into a studio and polish off some of the other songs for b-sides? We're not expecting masterpieces or anything - just some additional material to make it worthwhile for fans to part with their cash in these fiscally-challenged times. You also have a woefully under-utilised songwriting resource in Tom Chaplin... why not give him the opportunity to get some of his songs heard via b-sides? It worked well for the likes of Travis - Dougie Payne honed his songwriting skills on b-sides and then graduated onto writing songs good enough to make the albums. No disrespect to Tim in any way (you already know I think you're a genius, sir!), but I'm in absolutely no doubt that the vast majority of Keane fans would literally bite their local record shop assistant's hand off in order to hear some of Tom's songs. As far as I understand it, he's been writing away for a long time now, but we've still not got to listen to the fruits of his labour... so, if there's not been any time to work up some additional songs, why not give Tom his chance by putting some of that material out there and providing a real incentive to fans to purchase the single?

Basically, what we've ended up with is a single with no b-side of any real note, released on an obsolete format that the majority of potential purchasers won't be able to play, with (apparently) no video and next to no promotion... GENIUS! ;) Actually though, that last bit about no promotion is not entirely accurate - but its not single promotion in the obvious senses, such as plugging the song via TV performances. You see, I believe there is some method to the apparent madness of this release... cardboard 3D glasses. I'm sure you're all more than aware of the band's upcoming live webcast from the legendary Abbey Road Studios on April 2nd. The history of the studios is such the bands always make a big deal if they're going to do anything there, but this is especially the case for Keane... their oft-stated love for The Beatles and the history contained within the four walls of the cavernous studio will make it the latest in a long line of career highlights for them. However, it is the fact that the broadcast is being done in 3D (a world-first) that makes this live session notable and the PR machine has been working overtime to make sure that the event is given maximum publicity - indeed, a quick Google search reveals articles on the webcast from not only music sites such as Q and NME (yeah, I know that calling it a music site was probably an exaggeration, but you get my point), but also in the mainstream media outlets such as ITN, The Press Association and various national newspapers. As stories about bands go, its actually become quite a big deal - and the key to this futuristic 3D webcast is in fact to transport yourself back to the Eighties with a pair of cyan-and-red lens specs. "But where can I get hold of a pair?", I hear you cry... well, in a masterstroke of salesmanship, the easiest way is to get the pair that come free with each copy of the Better Than This 7" single! Thus, my thinking is that the powers-that-be are hoping that the PR buzz generated will mean that lots of people (crucially, including the more casual fans who don't go on the website or messageboard) go out and buy the single, not for the song itself (after all, we've already ascertained that its basically on a dead format and has no b-sides or video to propel it under its own steam) but because it is merely a conveniently-sized delivery vehicle that will allow them to watch the band break new technological ground. If enough people do it, a chart position might come along as a welcomed side-effect... so maybe, in a roundabout sort of way, there is some element of genius at work after all!

Having said all that though, I'm still disappointed by this release: my view is that you should either take the single seriously and do it properly (with a full promo schedule, video and marketing, released on sensible formats with bonus tracks to provide a sweetener to your fan-base), or don't bother with it at all. From where I'm sitting (on the sofa in my living room, with Bell X1 on in the background), this just seems like a means to an end, a lazy release that is ultimately nothing more than a way of charging for a pair of flimsy, retro 3D glasses. That's a big shame, as the message behind Better Than This is one that is all-too-valid in today's celebrity-driven, fame-obsessed world - if the drive had been there to do the single properly, it would potentially have been a real winner. I hope that the webcast does achieve all that they're hoping for, and I'll still definitely be tuning in and I'll enjoy it... but it just seems like a shame that the song is being treated as no more than a side-issue to it all.

Right, that's enough cynicism for one day! In the meantime, I'm off for a tinker around with the CP70. Apologies again for taking so long to get back up-and-running here - I'll promise not to leave another two months before I next update the site! Oh yeah... I've followed the herd and signed up to Twitter, so you can always stop by there and follow me to find out what randomness goes through my mind on a daily basis - check it out at http://www.twitter.com/MartMcD. Later!

Greetings, dear readers. Long time no see! Sorry that it's been so long since the last instalment - an annoying incident with a landlord who hadn't bothered to pay the mortgage in seven months (despite getting my rent!) meant that real-life had to take over with the search for an alternative place to live (and, more importantly, house my collection of instruments). With that sorted though, I've been in internet limbo while O2 get my broadband service transferred - but I couldn't let the year end without sneaking in one more blog update, so I've got a little mobile broadband dongle here especially for you guys. Never let it be said that I'm not good to you all!

So, did you all have a good Christmas? Get any good presents? If you're anything like me, you'll have eaten more than your own body weight in chocolate while also scratching your head as to why one of your dear relatives thought a pair of socks with your name on them would be an ideal present. Maybe though, you had more of a homely, family Christmas... sitting around the roaring log-fire with the people you love, engaged in a to-the-death Scrabble battle, or a race-against-the-clock to identify the perpetrator in the classic "whodunnit" game, Cluedo. However the festive period played out for you (and whichever member of your family turned out to be a murderer), I hope you had a great time! With Christmas out of the way and the last of the turkey leftovers having been eaten, we're now in the final death throes of 2008 and every writer and web-site is compiling lists about the highs and lows that have happened over the course of the year. Never one to buck a trend, I shall therefore use my final blog of the year for exactly that purpose - what are my own personal highs and lows of 2008 in the Keane-related world?

Well, from my point of view, 2008 was a pretty spectacular year for all things Keane. There's the obvious stuff, of course - all the activity in the first half of the year for the recording sessions in Paris, Berlin and The Barn, complete with random video updates, quirky photos and drunken blogs. Then of course, the completion of the sessions took the excitement up a notch - firstly, the band released Spiralling as a free download, giving the public at large their first taste of the newer, more colourful and more fun Keane. Judging by the speed with which the free downloads flew off the virtual shelves, it was a taste which tickled the musical tastebuds of a quite a large number of people - 500,000 downloads in a week isn't a bad haul! The album that ultimately followed it continues to be the most divisive release from the band - lots of people who didn't like their previous material sat up and took notice, while many fans hankered after what they believed was the loss of their favourite band - but for my money, Perfect Symmetry is a damn fine album. It's not flawless and it may not have scaled the sales peaks of its predecessors - but it is important because it is creatively free-and-easy, not afraid of messing with the formula and taking risks with lots of great melodies and sonic touches, even if they don't always come off. This hopefully bodes well for the future!

One particular high-point of the year though was the introduction of Mr. Jesse Quin Esq. to the Keane populous. Despite the fears of many that bringing someone else into the creative process would destroy the delicate band dynamic, most people now realise that quite the opposite effect resulted. Jesse's input on bass to both the record and the live stage has been nothing short of a revelation - rather than detracting from the dynamic, it has actually helped to take it to a completely new level. Whether or not JQ will be there for the long-term (and whether Keane would then officially become a four-piece) remains to be seen, but for now I'm just delighted with his involvement. He's also a delightful chap, with a wicked sense of humour and charm by the bucketload - probably the reason why he's been able to fit into the Keane dynamic so easily. From my own perspective, Jesse has also been excessively generous with his time to keep me updated with all things bass in Keane-land - I salute you sir! A friend has also brought it to my attention that I owe Jesse an apology... after railing against both his and Tim's new shiny silver trainers on the messageboard a little while ago, I have to admit that JQ's Nike's have grown on me dramatically over the past couple of weeks! I still can't see myself ever wearing any like that (I'm just too conservative, with a small c!), but I do have to admit that they have style - therefore, in yet another spectacular u-turn, I shall swallow what little pride I have remaining and offer JQ my sincere apologies: you were right all along sir and I bow to your far-superior fashion sense! Tim - I've still not come round to yours yet, so you'll just have to keep trying, son... ;)

Of course, it's not been 100% plain-sailing on the good ship Keane this year. One particularly large iceberg that punctured a huge hole in the band's creative hull was, of course, that appearance on France's Star Academy T.V show. This has already been debated until the cows came home, so there's probably not too much more that needs to be said. As soon as it was mentioned in the P.R. schedule, alarm bells started ringing - with the show basically appearing to be a French version of X-Factor, was this type of fame-culture show not one of the underlying themes of the new album and exactly the type of show that the band had been casting a critical eye over in interviews with a furrowed brow? Clearly the subtlety of this was lost on the French label who presumably offered the appearance to the band, but I think the guys and their organisation also need to take responsibility for not doing their research into the type of show it was. The slings and arrows of hypocrisy and PR-at-any-cost were understandably thrown at the band from the moment the show ended and I'd agree with most of it. It cheapened the whole message of the album, and single-handedly managed to remove a lot of the good will and momentum that had been built-up during the preceding months. Having said all that though, I do think the reaction from some quarters of the fanbase was a bit melodramatic and OTT - it was clearly a mistake and a disappointing one at that, but in the grand scheme of things it isn't actually important. My only hope is that they'll weigh up their P.R. appearances a bit more carefully going forward - I'm pretty sure that it's not an experience anyone concerned enjoyed. Let's hope there's nothing that cringeworthy on the schedule for 2009, lads!

Getting back to something more positive, the Perfect Symmetry live show finally sees Keane moving towards a more spontaneous and fun approach of playing live. There's still a heck of a lot of technology in use, but they've got it to be much less rigid and containing than it was previously. Having JQ on-stage clearly goes a long way to this, as he can provide the bass and extra synth/samples where needed, but they've also trimmed back on the arrangements of some songs to make it "more organic" (10p into the music cliche swear box there!). There is now very little in the way of playback, as well as there just being much more interesting things on-stage - Tom playing electric guitar, Richard's excellent rhythmic synth work at the beginning and end of You Haven't Told Me Anything and his cajon playing, Tim doubling up on two synths simultaneously, Jesse playing everything from bass to acoustic guitar to concert bass drum... it's just making the whole thing more exciting and keeping it fresh. I still secretly hope that one of these days, they'll really randomly switch things around - get Tim playing the guitar and Tom on the piano or something - but we'll just need to see how far they're prepared to experiment. It should certainly be interesting to see what they've got planned for the forthcoming arena shows - hopefully they'll be able to build a show that takes everything up one more notch. Bring it on, I say!

But on a more personal note, 2008 is noteworthy because of this very website and some of the experiences it has brought with it. After a year of procrastination from when the idea for the site was first suggested to me on the old messageboard (thanks Steve, you're ultimately to blame!) to when I actually got up off my backside and got something online, I'm delighted with the reaction that the site has received. I'd be lying if I said it isn't nice to hear people tell you that they appreciate what you're doing (we all like a little bit of an ego massage after all!), so I do really love to hear from you guys out there - even if I'm fairly useless at actually replying! The band and their crew have also been excessively kind to me over the past year, for which I am extremely grateful - from spending a few hours with Tim back in the summer to discuss the then-unfinished album, synthesizers and guitars, through to a guided tour of the instruments and technology that come together to make the new live show courtesy of road crew legends Scott and Thom, it's been quite a ride - thank-you chaps! Of all those to thank though, the greatest thanks must go to Beth - despite her immense workload, she has suffered my incessant queries and requests with good grace and generosity... it is no exaggeration to say that without her, none of it would have happened. I owe you big-time - you have my total respect and thanks!

Of course though, this site would be nothing if no-one actually visited it... so, my thanks are also due to all of you for continuing to support the site and read all my inane drivel - hopefully it has managed to be both interesting and entertaining! Thank-you also for your patience while I fight with the software used to run the site in order to get the long-awaited (by Chris Flynn!) Gear section up-and-running. Once the internet is properly enabled at Backline HQ, I'll work night and day (well, maybe not... but I'll work hard!) to get the listings of the band's gear online. There'll also be lots more interesting stuff that will hopefully persuade you to keep stopping by the site! With your help, together we'll make 2009 the year of Backline!

In the meantime, all that remains is for me to wish you all a happy and safe new year - whatever you're doing at the bells, spread the love to those around you... in these troubled times, we all need it. Peace!

(Oh yeah, the Cluedo - apparently, it was the Rev. Green in the hall with the dagger. And him, a man of the cloth as well...)

Many of you will be blissfully unaware of this, but today is my birthday - I woke up this morning having reached the grand old age of thirty-one. For most people, this would likely be a cause for celebration - in fact, given the caring nature of Keane's fan-base, I'll be quite disappointed if there aren't parties being held across South America as I type, in honour of my big day (imagine it: there'll be posters of me adorning the walls, badges with I HEART MART on them and a birthday cake complete with a photo of me aged 5 and a CP70 on it). However, rather than spending my day full of the joys of being the birthday boy, I can't help but get hung-up on the fact that it just feels so damn OLD!

Even a couple of years back, the signs of impending old-age were ominous. After all, you know things have gotten bad when the number of candles required is practically too many to fit on the top of the birthday cake. The surface of the (admittedly delicious) chocolate cake was a blanket of fire and it nearly burnt my face off as I tried to blow them out. Such a safety hazard will be completely untenable going forward, so I suspect the next step will be to simply have one candle for every ten years of life: if ever there was an admission of becoming an old duffer, that's surely it. It doesn't seem so long ago that I was a young, fresh-faced geek starting at university - yet, it was actually rather scarily over 13 years ago. Similarly, myself and my drinking partner-in-crime Tony spend a large proportion of practically every visit to the pub reminiscing about classic tales of hilarity from school - but when the laughter subsides, it then dawns on us that the events in question actually took place more than half a lifetime ago. It is no wonder that we have both been accused of "clinging to the wreckage of our youth"...

Fortunately, some kind souls out there among you have attempted to ease the pain of the passing years by telling me that I look younger than I actually am. In fact, on two recent occasions there was great surprise expressed that I had already passed thirty - there is apparently a common-held belief that I am only approaching my mid-twenties, like my friends and Beyond The Iron Sea cohorts, Chris and Andrew. In a further kind-hearted attempt to massage my bruised self-esteem, I am also constantly being told that thirty-one isn't old and, being realistic about it, this is probably quite true. I'm still a significant number of years away from my OAP Bus Pass and winter fuel allowance, and I'm still younger than both Tim and Richard (though sadly still older than those young whippersnappers, Tom and Jesse), and few amongst us would say that they are old men. Though, judging by some of his lyrics and interviews, Tim shares some of my worries about getting old - we only have to look at a song like Atlantic or his tongue-in-cheek answers to Tom's What Do You Think Of? questions to see that we are kindred spirits with a shared fear of waking up one morning to find that we're 70, doddery and lacking in bladder control (OK, he's not actually mentioned the bladder control fear, but I'm reading between the lines).

But worry not, my friends: although the fear of ending up frail, withered and in need of incontinence pants is a lingering concern, on the plus side I have also discovered that with age comes wisdom. Well, maybe not wisdom in my case, but at least I'm a little more rounded and level than I used to be (though I have a long way to go before reaching the true Zen level of my fellow Scot and TMTTS, Colin Davies). My younger self would have felt the need to rail against anyone casting doubt on Keane's sincerity (take that, Alexis Petridis!), or would become embroiled in pointless arguments with people looking to stir up trouble on the message-board by trolling and flaming. But now (for the most part), I let it wash over me like water off a large, overweight ginger duck's back. A typical example of this is that I rarely ever allow myself to be fully dragged into the frequent debates that rear their ugly head every now and again, foretelling the death of Keane. Whereas a band like Coldplay have to rely on Chris Martin himself to make an annual proclamation about the band coming to an end, Keane can merely get on with the process of making music and playing gigs, leaving it up to their fans to provide their own scare stories to wile away the long winter nights. Off the top of my head, the following were just some of the events predicted to spell the end of Keane:

• The Under The Iron Sea era (the loss of the clean piano-driven sound)
• The Perfect Symmetry era (the loss of the distorted piano-driven sound)
• The use of guitars (the loss of the "band who don't use guitars" pigeonhole)
• Tom's smoking (the loss of the angelic falsetto vocals)
• Jesse Quin's involvement (the loss of the T-T-R dynamic)
• Jesse Quin's possible lack of future involvement (the loss of the new T-T-R-J dynamic)

Scary, huh? For a band that's apparently been on the verge of collapse with every release they put out and move they make (or don't make), they've managed to last quite well and seem to be happier than ever. But never fear, for I have now seen that the latest definitive indication of the band's imminent demise is concerning the sales figures (or lack, thereof) for the new album and its first single The Lovers Are Losing.

I have to say that I've never been one to care about the sales figures (even during the Hopes And Fears days when it seemed that literally everyone in the UK must have bought a copy or two, given how long it stayed in the charts) and to be honest, I still couldn't give two hoots. I've maintained all along that the most important thing should be that the band be true to themselves and follow their instincts when it comes to making music. Whilst it may be the case that the figures don't seem particularly great when stacked against Under The Iron Sea and (to a much greater extent) Hopes And Fears, I just can't see how this album can viewed as the band's swansong. After all, in the current climate of chart positioning, they seem to have done not too badly when stacked alongside some of their contemporaries - new releases from the likes of Kaiser Chiefs, Razorlight and Snow Patrol have also charted highly on release but dropped quickly compared to their previous releases. But I don't believe (and certainly hope) that Keane will be the type to think that they should throw in the towel because of one release that didn't scale huge sales heights, or that they'll go running back to the security blanket of rehashing a previous album next time round in an attempt to claw back sales.

Don't get me wrong - I'd love it if the album and single were to be shifting more units than Hopes And Fears and Under The Iron Sea combined, but ultimately it just isn't important to me. The fact that the band have delivered an album that I absolutely adore, combined with a much-improved live dynamic, is what matters. Of course, there is always a potentially serious side to poor sales, which is that in these fiscally-challenged times, record companies are feeling the pinch and may not want to invest in the band's touring or future recording to the same degree if sales haven't met expectations. Clearly, if that were to come to pass, it would be a bit of a blow to the band's creative aspirations - but again, it's all hypothesising and none of us can truly know what will happen on that front over the next year or two. My basic premise on the whole thing is let's just enjoy the music and gigs now, rather than worrying about what might or might not happen in the future - life is too short. And trust me, when you get to my age, you'll agree with me!

OK - now that I've put the world to rights (it's another perogative that you get once you're passed 30), I'll return to some minor birthday celebrations. I look forward to seeing what presents I'll be given this year - though if it's a pair of incontinence pants and a walking stick, I won't be amused! And to finish off this entry, thanks to Mary Ann for her kind words about my stab at A Bad Dream in the last entry - the Keane gig phone-call still hasn't come through yet (patience truly is a virtue), so I'll make it even sweeter for them with some live stylophone action:

I thank you!

The human mind is truly a remarkable thing. In every moment of our lives, it is constantly active and processing millions of stimulii: from the blink of an eye to the fact that I am able to type this text to you, from mastering language and the written word to enabling the creation of magnificent works of art and composing heartbreaking, beautiful and epic melodies. It is the most complex computer known to mankind, with the ability to master numerous types of problem solving and with a capability to learn and adapt that Alan Turing could only dream of in a machine. And yet, for all it's power of thought and creativity, it is also the most fragile organ in the body, with even a minute amount of damage resulting in profound, possibly life-changing effects for the sufferer. Medical science has made colossal leaps and bounds over the past century, but we are still a million miles away from truly understanding the complexity and function of the mind. But when you consider the many varied functions our brains provide, there is one area in particular that manages to fascinate, yet simultaneously perplex and bewilder. It is arguably the aspect that most differentiates us from the numerous other species we share this world with and is that one thing that truly defines us as human: our capability for imagination and to dream - a desire to constantly better ourselves and to push forward... not to be satisfied with the here-and-now, but to shape the future.

I realise that this reads more like the beginning of an article in a science journal and you're probably now thinking "What does this have to do with Keane?", but bear with me on this. One of the most interesting aspects of the whole area of the subconscious mind and the sleeping-dreaming state is trying to figure out what the purpose of our dreams actually is. Are they completely superfluous, being nothing more than the random expulsions of our stressed-out minds? Or are they in fact something much more fundamental to our well-being, helping us to manage and cope with the multitude of chaos and drama thrown at us in our normal, everyday lives? Clearly, the latter viewpoint becomes slightly less watertight when you consider the sheer ludicrousness that our dreams can take. After all, very few of us (as the well-rounded, intelligent, sophisticated adults that we are) can have ever faced the situation where we might suddenly find ourselves back at school, only to then notice that we aren't wearing any trousers (or is it only me that has had that recurring dream?). Maybe it does serve a purpose though: after all, I can now safely say that I have never once ventured beyond the front door of my flat without checking that I have all the essentials:

• Wallet: check.
• Keys: check.
• Mobile Phone: check.
• Trousers: check.

Perhaps the dream was my mind's way of preparing me for that eventuality and making sure I was never going to fall foul of a public indecency offence? We may never know for sure, but perhaps a third option concerns another great unknown about the workings of our minds: namely, that wonderfully vague and speculative "sixth sense", commonly referred to as extrasensory perception (or ESP, in these buzzword-conscious times). Although I don't believe that it's ever been proven, there is certainly some degree of mileage in the investigation of the relationship between dreams and "deja-vu" - could our dreams be giving us a glimpse into a potential future? In the case of the forgotten trousers, I certainly hope not... but there was a truly momentous dream that I had the other evening that, if ESP were to play a part, would make for a truly epic event in my otherwise dull existence.

This is where Keane come in (thank-you for sticking with me this far!). It had been a relatively ordinary day, followed by the usual quiet evening of television, music and web-surfing. In preparation for another day of hard work at the coalface of building performance analysis software development (that's the rock'n'roll lifestyle, my friends), I retired to bed for an early night and quickly slipped into a sound sleep. The scene rapidly shifts to me standing at the side of stage in Hall 4 of the SECC in Glasgow, with Tom, Tim, Richard and Big JQ on-stage finishing a storming rendition of Perfect Symmetry. In a blur of lights, introductions and noise, I bound on-stage to take my seat at the trusty CP70 while Tim switches over to to the CP60 piano beside JQ. The click-track begins in my in-ear monitors and I gently start the intro notes to A Bad Dream and we're off. Tim plays the middle-eight string parts from the CP60, before playing the chords (leaving Tom free to concentrate on singing) while I batter hell out of the CP70 for the big distorted piano finale. With the song completed, there's only time for a quick handshake from Tom and a backslap from Tim before I'm off, leaving the band to kick into a triumphant Somewhere Only We Know.

I woke up with my mind buzzing from the dream - it was extremely vivid and realistic and I'm pleased to report that at no point during the "performance" did I glance downwards and discover that I had forgotten to put any jeans on (of course, this worryingly could still mean that I had forgotten, but merely hadn't noticed). The dream gave me such a delirious high, in fact, that I can only deduce that this was my mind's way of preparing me for an event that is now clearly destined to happen. After all, the band will be Glasgow-bound in a little over two months from now, so it seems only right that my subconscious would want to give me an early warning and sufficient practice time. As I write, I still haven't had the official word from the band to say that they'd love for me to take to the stage with them on their sole Scottish date of the forthcoming UK arena tour, but I'm sure that offer will be made soon enough - only a matter of biding my time.

Of course, dreaming that I can play the song successfully and convincingly is one thing: doing it for real is an altogether different and more challenging task! So, I decided that it would be prudent to sit down at my old CP70, rig up a distortion effect for the solo sections and give it a good crack of the whip, in order to see just how close or far removed the dream Mart was from the reality. I'd be lying if I said it went totally smoothly (listen out for a Les Dawson-esque clanger during the middle-eight when I forget what chord I'm changing to, then laugh as I consistently mess up the effects changes) but on the whole, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Given that the gig isn't until the end of January, that gives me plenty of time to get my act together. You can now judge for yourself exactly how steep (or gradual!) this particular mountain will be to climb, because I helpfully recorded it for your delectation (if you can't get it to play, try installing the latest Flash Player - oh, and don't put the volume up too loud on the distorted sections, or you may risk hearing loss!):

Apart from the mistakes, you could almost believe it was Tim himself! Well, not really... but it could've been a lot worse, I hope you'll agree. Like I say, once I've got the official nod, I'll practice it religiously every evening until I can practically play it in my sleep - in which case, the dream really will have come full-circle! Hell, I'll even have a go at singing the backing vocals with Tim, Richard and JQ... bring it on! After all, I've sung (badly) on-stage before - admittedly, that was only to about 100 folk in a tiny venue in Edinburgh, so singing to nearly 10,000 people while trying to play piano with one of the country's best-loved bands will require me to up my game by just a tad. But I'm ready and raring to go - I can almost taste the aftershow beers and pizza now!

Right, with the scene now set for what can only be a resounding triumph of a gig, I'm off to get back to the CP70 for more practice. In the meantime... Tom, Tim, Richard, Jesse: you've got my number, I'll be waiting on your call - you know it makes sense! This time next year, we could all be millionaires... ;-)

FOOTLOOSE: Tom peeks under the piano mid-gig to see if Tim has rediscovered his Green Flash.

Photo: Anna Williams

Regular readers of this blog will be aware that I've been a strong supporter of Keane's journey into new musical territories over the past few years. Even back on the eve of Under The Iron Sea, I was full of praise for the boldness of the band's experimentation with distorted pianos and altogether sonic darker landscapes. Likewise with the Perfect Symmetry sessions, where it became apparent that they were really pushing the boat out with bizarre instrumentation, crazed vocal approaches and even a new member in the shape of this blog's favourite average-height, multi-talented musical maestro, Jesse Quin. For me, it's all been a tremendously exciting ride and we've got an album and live show out of it that really takes things forward to a new level and keeps it fresh. While others lamented the lack of a return to Hopes And Fears styled piano anthems, I embraced all the quirky synths, chorus vocals and spiky guitars parts that take centre-stage in the new world order. It's all good - nay, it's all great.

It may therefore surprise you to find out that as we enter this new and exciting chapter in the band's existence, there is one aspect of the Keane we've come to know that even I am lamenting the loss of. It is not, as some people seem to believe, the loss of Tom's angelic vocals into what is being described as some sort of cod-rock impressionist cliche (I'd dispute that vehemently anyway!), nor is it the departure from the purity of the piano-driven sound the band originally became (in)famous for (again, I'm a firm believer of change or die when it comes to music). Given my geekish ways, you might even be imagining that it is the fact that the trusty old Yamaha CP70B piano now has to compete with lots of expensive synthesizers for Tim's attention, or even a lament that the band have moved away from the massive distorted piano effects they pioneered on Under The Iron Sea and that sent my desire for piano experimentation into overdrive... but on both of these cases, you would also be incorrect. After all, the more instruments the better, as far as I'm concerned... all the more to identify and get excited about, providing more content for this site (yes, yes - the Gear section of this site will appear sometime before the turn of the next millennium). In fact, I'm mourning the passing of something much more subtle: something much more at the heart of everything, something that had become like an old friend... something that almost defined the band from 2004 through to the present. I refer, of course, to the sad loss of Tim's Dunlop Green Flash trainers.

Some things naturally go together: fish and chips, tea and biscuits, politicians and scandals, The Moomins and Moominvalley... such was the association between Tim and his Green Flash. Even back when I first got into the band, the guys each had their identifiable footwear styles - Tom always elected for his tan-coloured, pointy dress shoes (I believe he even referred to them as his lucky shoes, salvaging them for as long as possible by covering up the holes in the soles with gaffa tape), Richard elected for the tried-and-trusted indie route of Converse All-Stars while our resident piano man went for his beloved Green Flash. Despite the odd foray into Converse, it was the Flash that would win out and become Tim's "on-duty" footwear of choice. Back in those halcyon days, I suspect that he only ever had a single pair at any one time and would wear them until they were basically falling apart before buying more. Some probably bought the dust quicker than others... for example, I presume that the pair he wore for the band's outstanding debut at Glastonbury in 2004 had to go straight into the bin afterwards, given they aren't exactly cut out for use in a mudbath!

As the band became bigger and moved into the dark-and-smart "white belt" era of stage gear, Tom and Richard moved onto slightly different shoe styles, but Tim stuck with the tried-and-tested Dunlops. However, wearing a pair of roughed-up Green Flash while playing some of the classiest and most reknowned venues in the world simply wouldn't do... so it seems that Tim would travel with multiple pairs of them, allowing the wear to be spread evenly and giving him an almost pristine pair for every gig. Various aspects of the band's image and persona changed for Under The Iron Sea but the Green Flash remained a constant: a security blanket to which we could all cling. In fact, given that he wore them at practically every gig and appearance the band made over the past few years, he's been the best advertisement for the brand ever. Lesser individuals like Johnny Borrell may have also been sporting Flash on occasion, but Tim made them become an integral part of the whole band image right across the globe.

But now, in the new era, it would seem that the Green Flash have been consigned to the history books - a sad day indeed! Interestingly, Tim was wearing them in various publicity shots from Berlin, but by the time the band had properly broke cover and started gigging, they were conspicuous by their absence. Tim may think nothing of ditching the shoes in favour of some newer, trendier numbers (though his silver shoes from the Later... performance a couple of weeks ago are a step too far!), but I don't think he realises quite how profound an effect this will have. Given the fact that the Keane organisation must have purchased literally dozens of pairs over the past few years, combined with the numerous sales to fans who also want to pretend to be their idol (let's draw a discreet veil of the exact number of pairs I've been through over the past four years), we can only presume that their will be a sizable drop in sales as a result of the move. Dunlop (or whoever it is that actually makes them under that brand nowadays) will no doubt announce a profits warning any day now, jobs will be lost and an iconic brand will be lost forever. In fact, it makes me wonder if Tim has truly considered the ramifications of abandoning the nation's favourite tennis shoe...

I actually quite like Tim's new trainers (excluding the aforementioned silver efforts), but they'll never surpass the mighty Flash. In terms of the other guys, it's been business as usual for Tom (immensely pointy, super-shiny black shoes), while Richard has been sporting some dark rainbow-styled trainers. Only ladies-favourite Jesse has been the wildcard in the pack, varying his footwear for practically each appearance in the short period that touring has been underway: he's been spotted in canvas plimsoles, stylish tan brogues and Converse All-stars, to name but a few. Perhaps JQ could be persuaded to adopt a pair of Green Flash and follow in Tim's (oversized) footsteps? Probably not... as great as Jesse is (and I hope everyone on the front row of future gigs will show him how much you care by purchasing one of these fetching t-shirts), it just wouldn't be the same. Alas, I fear that we may have reached the end of the line for the humble Dunlops within Camp Keane... it's a sad day, but we'll always have the memories!

Fear not though, loyal readers... Tim may have moved on from his Green Flash, but I am much more of a creature of habit. So you can rest assured that I will be wearing them (and buying more pairs as necessary) over the coming months, especially whenever I sit down at my CP70 or attend any Keane-related events - keep the faith! I trust you all to do the same - wear them with pride, remain steadfast and resolute in the face of accusations of being an obsessed fanboy or fangirl - your Green Flash need you, now more than ever!

CRYPTIC: The Backline CP70's message from beyond the keys...

As you may recall, a few weeks ago I bought myself a rather rough-around-the-edges Yamaha CP70 piano. Even though it had been lying gathering dust down at a studio in Yorkshire for a while (and had to endure a sit-com worthy attempt at moving to Renfrew, courtesy of McDonald and Quigley Transport), it actually sounded pretty good when I started playing it (in my usual ham-fisted manner). However, it was obvious that it would benefit from some tuning to get it sounding top-notch across the keyboard, as well as needing some attention for a dropped C# key in the middle. So, after a quick web perusal, I enlisted the services of my local, friendly piano tuner Jamie McLaren to give it what I'd thought would be a quick tinker.

Of course though, in the world of Backline, things never actually run that smoothly and this was no different. So, when Jamie arrived with his tuning fork, handle and bag of goodies in hand, what we'd both thought would be a 1 hour job ended up taking the best part of 3 hours, with my poor CP70's list of woes and ailments growing with each passing minute. The diagnosis was grim: the piano had spent a lot of its time sitting somewhere damp and hadn't been given the attentions of a tuner for some considerable time, many of its felt parts (of which, it turns out, pianos have many) had been providing ample sustenance for moths over the years resulting in many of them crumbling away to nothing, there was corrosion on some of the strings, its front panel fitting had been well-and-truly bodged, as well as just the general wear-and-tear on the hammer coverings and dampers that you'd expect from a vintage instrument. I could almost hear a shriek of terror echo from my bank account as each further problem became apparent.

Fortunately though, Jamie believed that once we'd got it tuned up a bit better and bodged the balance felt issue for the dropped key, it would be able to survive for a while without needing to address the bulk of those problems. Trusting the expert's judgement (he's tuned Sigur Ros' CP70 before when they've toured), I left him to get on with it and marvelled at his ability to tune perfectly by ear, pleased that my beloved piano was in good hands. He was also a very amiable chap, even being polite enough to say that the mug of coffee I'd made him was good, rather than spitting it all over the keyboard and pillioring me for my ineptitude with the Gold Blend. A few hours later, once everything was all fixed up enough to let him get on to his next job (by which time he was running quite late), he left me to reassemble the last couple of bits of the piano and have a play around with it. A quick stab at A Bad Dream indicated that he was as good as his word, with both the sticky key now working sufficiently and the tuning sounding pretty much spot-on across the board - a job well done.

Now, if I were the sensible type, I'd just have left it at that and sat happily playing the thing until it next needed tuned, a string broke or one of the felts gave up the ghost. But, this is me we're talking about... even as a boy, I always had an overpowering desire to take things apart and see what made them tick. Model trains, transistor radios, computers... over the years, they've all succumbed to my inquisitive desires. Being the type of guy that I am, this inexplicable need to ignore the old adage of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" in favour of "if it ain't broke, give it your best shot" is probably not entirely surprising - indeed, I suspect many of the womenfolk reading this may also be nodding their head, recognising that their own husband or boyfriend suffers from the same affliction. In my case though, the difference is that my lack of manual dexterity and skill tends to mean that although I am an expert at taking things apart, putting them back together (and then ensuring that they still work) is a bit trickier. "No matter though," I said to myself... after all, I'd watched as Jamie managed to get down to the keys with relative ease, so I was feeling confident. In much the same way as I'd experienced prior to the journey to actually pick up the piano and move it, once again the voice of Jeremy Clarkson popped into my head: "How hard can it be?"...

By this point, you're probably expecting me to tell you that the piano is still lying in pieces on the floor, while I await Jamie's return to try to ressurect it from the Frankenstein job I performed on it. But, I'm pleased to report that for once, you would be wrong. I hesitate to say it, but the disassembly and reassembly almost went like clockwork, with barely a hitch along the way. Having ordered a set of new balance felts from my not-so-local piano spares company and with a copy of the Yamaha CP70/80 Service Manual to hand (the equivalent of those Haynes strip-down-and-rebuild car manuals that fascinated my 10-year old self), I dusted off the screwdriver set and set to work. At this point, it is probably worth acknowledging that the relative smoothness of the operation is more down the sheer brilliance of the piano's design rather than any sudden development of skill from myself. Yamaha's Japanese designers and engineers really did produce a marvel when they made these beasts, managing to pack what effectively amounts to a baby grand piano (complete with all the strings, hammers and proper action) into such a compact casing - and that's even before you consider that it can then split into two separate parts to allow it to be easily "transportable" (I am of course using the word "easily" in the loosest possible sense). An amazing piece of engineering... however, I was not prepared for what I uncovered when I'd actually taken advantage of this relative simplicity and had removed all the keys.

The first thing that left me taken aback was the mind-blowing amount of dust, fluff and grime that had gathered beneath the keys. I'd expected it to be a bit dusty - after all, its over twenty years old and probably hasn't been stripped down particularly often... plus, if you've ever looked at the top of the wardrobe in your bedroom, you'll no doubt have discovered that dust manages to gather remarkably quickly. However, considering the area under the keys is mostly enclosed unless you start to strip the whole thing down, the sheer volume of dirt that had accumulated was truly staggering. There's less debris left behind when a 20-storey tower block is demolished than had gathered under the keys... it was so bad that even my vacuum cleaner recoiled slightly when presented with it. Some significant time later, as the worst of the dirt had been sucked away, a small black scrap of paper emerged from underneath the layer of filth, along with a used match (perhaps the latter was left after a failed attempt to set fire to the instrument at the end of a gig, Hendrix-style). "Bit odd," I thought to myself... however, it got even stranger when I picked up the scrap and turned it over. It contained 3 words, scrawled in quite child-like handwriting: "Leed are sad". Yep, your guess is as good as mine...

It set my mind wondering... what did it mean? Who wrote it? How long had it been there? Why put it there? Is it a message from beyond the grave? It was clearly ot just a random event, given that all the keys would have had to be stripped from the instrument to get it there. After a bit of head-scratching as to its meaning, I was hoping that a Google search would throw up an answer - after all, the Internet is the ultimate repository of randomness - but even that drew a blank. It really is a conundrum that even Carol Vorderman would struggle to unravel. Perhaps it is a rather extravagant form of "message in a bottle", where a child somehow wanted to leave a message from the past and, not having a bottle or an ocean to hand, decided to use their parent's piano. Or perhaps not. I did buy the piano from near Leeds, so maybe it was nothing more than a misspelled childish diss to the city or its football team... but given the amount of fluff and dust it lay in, the message looks like it had been there for some period of time, and the guy I bought it from had only owned it for a year or two (it had been in Wales before that). It is the definition of the word "odd".

But then, it came to me... maybe it is part of a larger message. Maybe it comes from the original engineers of the CP70 and they put a separate part of the message into each one they built... only once all owners open up and strip down their pianos to uncover their section of the message, will we be able to piece it together and reveal the truth. Given that Keane have been slowly accumulating all of the world's supply of surviving CP70's over the past few years, I think Tim seems like the ideal candidate to start the check for other messages in his CP70s... after all, each one could be holding its own secret that is just waiting to be uncovered. What if it transpires that the message is of global importance? A warning of an impending apocalypse, or perhaps even greater - the answer to life, the universe and everything? What if 42 was just a ruse, and those humble geniuses at Yamaha actually had the spiritual insight that we lack and they were using the humble CP70 as the vehicle to spread the message? Undoubtedly, many of these vintage instruments will have perished over the years, so parts of the puzzle may already have been lost. For this reason, Mr. Rice-Oxley, it is vital that you personally strip down each of your CP70s immediately to find any hidden messages that lie within them and report your findings back to me... don't worry about the fact that you'll be needing one for the first live show next week - the potential future of the human race could be at stake (and besides, if I can manage to reassemble one successfully you'll have no worries). If we work together, we can crack this thing - it'll be like the real-life X-Files, as we fight to uncover the truth (though admittedly, neither of us will really be able to pull off a convincing impression of the foxy Gillian Anderson).

Or that might all be rubbish. Makes you think though, doesn't it...

CAN YOU TELL WHAT IT IS YET?: It's a CP70, Jim, but not as we know it... The stripped and cleaned CP70 awaits its new balance felts.

There are many certainties in nature and in life - things that happen outwith our control and that we are powerless to influence or change. Most of these, we take for granted and we carry on through our everyday lives without giving them the slightest thought... the world keeps spinning, the tides ebb and flow, the plants grow and die. These are all global certainties, but some aspects of life are a little more insidious, sneaking up on us with each passing day. Contrary to what you might think, I am not referring to death (after all cryonics will save us from that ultimate destination, apparently), but to a much more subtle aspect of the human condition. An affliction that is so worrying because it has stood the test of time and, despite the many advances in modern science, still has no known cure, Yes my friends... it is perhaps the most worrying issue that will affect each and every one of us, as surely as night follows day - I refer, of course, to that strange, un-nerving phenomena whereby as you get older, you slowly turn into your own parents.

"Not a chance!", I hear the youngsters amongst you scoff. "I'll never turn out like them - I'll be open-minded, footloose and fancy-free forever." We've all been there and denounced the idea, brushing it aside with an "it won't happen to me" attitude. This is understandable - after all, no-one I know has every consciously decided that they want to ape their elders. The whole foundation of teenage rebellion is based on doing precisely the opposite of what your parents would want, or liking what they like. And even though they wouldn't admit it, even your parents would find it odd if this were to be different. Imagine how strange it would be for them if you were to proclaim one evening, "Aww dad, I've had enough of this Jay-Z rubbish... put some Genesis on and let's get some quality music going!". It would just be wrong. However, as the years go by, the slow morph from youthful hipster to boring old fart will begin to take hold - it'll be slow, so you probably won't even realise that its happening. One day though, you'll be listening to the radio and a song will come on - something that is popular with the youth of today and is riding high in the charts. And then it'll happen - you'll recoil in horror at the atrocity of the "music" you're hearing, before beating it down with a withering put-down... something along the lines of "What is this rubbish? Call that music? When I was younger, we had proper songs...". Only then, will you realise that you're already well-advanced towards being an old fogey with no hope of reversing the process.

As I approach the grand old age of 31, this incessant slide into middle-age means these types of reaction are becoming more and more common. Most of the time, I'll just accept my fate of living in the past (frequently harking back to the happy days of my own youth!) and get on with it, but sometimes a song will come along that really stokes the fire and sets me off in an rage. The latest incidence of this happened last week, while I was being driven to work*. A song came on the radio, which the DJ cheerfully announced was a request from the pupils at a secondary school somewhere in the Glasgow area... "and now, here's The Pussycat Dolls with When I Grow Up". It had the usual non-entity melody and annoying vocal parts that are the trademark of any commercially-aimed pop dross, but that wasn't what annoyed me. No... what really fuelled the grumpy old man within me was the lyrics.

Take these lines from what purported to be a chorus: "When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies, When I grow up, I wanna see the world, Drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies, When I grow up, Be on TV, People know me, Be on magazines". God in heaven...

I mean, seriously - what kind of message are they trying to put across with this? Now, I know what some of you are thinking... "It's not aimed at the likes of you though, it's aimed at pre-pubescent girls" (although if its aimed at them, why do the PCG's dress as though they're going out for an evening's work in the local red light district?). I can understand that pop music is predominantly aimed at the young - indeed, its part of the nature of commercial pop... but if we accept that as being the case, surely the subject matter of these lyrics is actually even worse? Are they really encouraging young girls to think, "Well, I could work hard, go to University then get a job and contribute something worthwhile to society - but instead, I'll just try to become famous so that I can go to parties and appear in the newspapers."? I mean, am I missing some deep hidden irony in these lyrics? Of course, the PCG ladies didn't actually write it themselves, as is the way of things - but if they were prepared to record it and get it out there as a single, they must approve of the message to some degree... it's pathetic. And let's not even begin to delve into the notion of men in their thirties writing about what its like to be a young girl...

It's a classic example of piggybacking on the fact that society and the media (particularly here in the UK) seem obsessed by this whole notion of "celebrity" and of convincing people that in order to be successful and happy in life, they have to be famous and be seen at hip parties with the latest movie star or it-girl on their arm. Don't get me wrong - being famous is something that's always been desirable, but this type of rubbish seems to be suggesting fame for the sake of it is the be-all-and-end-all. Children have always want to be movie stars or pop stars, even back "when I were a lad"... but nobody simply said "when I grow up, I want to be famous", which seems to be the mantra of many of today's young people. Now, don't get me wrong - fame is not necessarily a bad thing (in fact, if someone is lucky enough to be in that position, they can be influential through their actions and opinions), but I've never liked the notion that people can become famous without actually having done anything worthwhile to earn that position. The true greats in their field (be they actors, musicians or artists) have always had to work their arses off to get where they ended up, even though they've had real talent - they've had to work at it, to build it up from nothing. Now, the society we've bred as a result of the whole Heat-X-Factor-OK-Big-Brother zeitgeist seems to promote the belief that fame is the important thing and that there's a quick fix way to get there without actually needing to do anything to earn or justify it - and that being famous is the root of all happiness. God, we're all doomed!

Once again, hearing such a degree of crass codswallop like that PCD song made me appreciate quite how pertinent the lyrics of Keane's new song Better Than This are. It really is refreshing to hear that a band is willing to try to tackle these types of issues that seem to have infected our society over the course of the 21st century. I'm not deluded enough to believe that it will change anything, of course... but I am glad that it's not just me that looks at the way things are today and the ideals that get put forward for people and thinks "Jeez, is this really the best we can do?".

It will be interesting to see how the celebrity culture we live in is dealt with in some of the other songs on the forthcoming album. I'm sure Tim has said that it was one of the two main threads that run through the songs (the other being the uncertain times we live in as a result of war), though I wouldn't be surprised if it is dealt with in a more oblique manner on other songs compared to the direct message of Better Than This. The band have always managed to do a good job of staying out of the trash mags and tabloids, save for the obvious exception of Tom's stint in rehab. Again, thinking back to that, its amazing how even a tragic personal situation like that is twisted into some more easy celebrity fodder - remember all that guff about the "rehab supergroup" with Tom, Pete Doherty and Justin Hawkins? Or the obligatory "Elton John helped me through my drugs hell" non-story that always gets trotted out whenever a young musician goes into rehab for drug addiction? It's all nonsense, and in a way we're all to blame - we buy this rubbish and fund it, we watch all the crap that comes on TV, giving the media free license just to keep doing more of the same. I'm sure the writers of When I Grow Up were well aware of this - they're tapping into the common mindset and they know it's an easy way to make a quick buck. They're exploiting the poor saps that readily buy into all that crap, but in that sense, who's more of the fool - the one that pedals it, or the one that believes and buys it? It's a really sad state of affairs!

It may just be another instance of getting old and looking at the past through rose-tinted spectacles, but I don't remember things seeming as grim when I was younger. Whether that is just because I was too young to properly appreciate the situation back then, I'm not sure... but wouldn't it be great if we could get back to appreciating the real values in life, rather than promoting all the superficial nonsense that seems to be the order of the day? Maybe that's unrealistic and things are too far-gone to be salvageable - a sad situation if ever there were one. We live in one of the wealthiest societies in the world, with so many opportunities - yet we seem to be disappearing into a vacuous, materialistic self-obsessed hole. We've lost touch with the real values of humanity and instead want to focus entirely on a fruitless quest for vanity and fame, when it's really just a dead-end street. Where did it all go wrong?

So, even if you believe that Better Than This is nothing more than Keane trying to be David Bowie, hopefully you'll agree that lyrically its at least got the sentiment we need to wake people up and make them think, even just a little bit. Take heart from the fact that they still believe in some positive values and still try to put across a worthwhile message with their songs. Quite a few dissenters in the ranks have also been critical of some of Tim's recent lyrics, but c'mon... weigh them up against most of what's getting passed off as meaningful pop and surely we can see the merit and value of Mr. R-O's prose?

Right, now I've got all that off my chest, I'm away to watch some telly. Did I ever tell you about how TV programmes were so much better when I was younger?

If you've been observant today, you may have noticed that there's been yet another leak of a new Keane track - and in common with the previous slip-up for Love Is The End (where Universal Portugal managed to give the wrong song to a radio station - it should have been The Lovers Are Losing), it is in fact the fault of the band's record label. Earlier today, Interscope in the US managed to leak a new bonus track called My Shadow that is expected to be included on iTunes pre-orders. Although they managed to realise the mistake relatively quickly, it was still ripped by all and sundry - seriously, who'd have thought Keane's biggest enemy in keeping their new tracks under wraps would be their own record labels!

But what of the song? Epic - a slow building anthem, in the best traditions of classic Keane such as On A Day Like Today. Except with guitars as well as piano and synth in the mix - and all the better for it. That boy Chaplin has really been on fire - vocals on this are massive. I get an interesting spiritual feel from the lyrics - probably just me though... Anyway, this is another track that should help ease the doubts of those who've felt ill-at-ease with the more out-there tracks like Spiralling and Better Than This.

But yeah - if I was feeling generous, I'd say that these leaks are part of a calculated, clever ploy by Universal to increase interest in the forthcoming album. I'm not though, so I'll just say it's a cock-up again. What a song though... bravo!