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For those who don’t know already, my name is Jordan Azor. I am a rock n’ rolla.

Over the past few years I have worked hard and traveled and made a lot of progress. One thing has led to another and now I find myself talking directly to some very powerful industry types in America. Without boring you with the details, they tell me that I’m great (blush) but before we can move any further, they need some hard numbers on the board. Well, one number: 500,000. On one board: Youtube.

So my friends, with great humility and respect I present to you my proposal-

Mosey on over to here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJs9XXN8Rh8

And if you like it, then head here to download for free, the full band version recorded in Los Angeles California with some very bad-ass badasses: http://www.mediafire.com/file/h2khg792vx2swsh/EASTBOUND.mp3

And perhaps you might be kind enough to direct a few friends over this way as well. If you hate it and you’re clever, then feel free to let us know as well. These things are good for the ego.

Thank you all so very much. Love and safe travels. See you soon!

Exhibition is canceled. I have reasons. Personal. Professional.

But for once in my life I’m going to keep them to myself and you’ll just have to trust me when I say it is the right decision.

Sorry.

It’s been a long while but www.myspace.com/jordanazor has now been updated with material from the 2010 sessions in Los Angeles.

Four days ago came the official announcement of “The Azorian Collective Presents…” for 2010.

This time it’s EXHIBITION.

Exhibit A: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAld1NrDoIw

(If anyone can teach me to embed, I’d be a very happy man.)

ps. Who is Tiffany UK? If anyone knows, please inform me. it’s a little unnerving having someone other than Rohan, Lewis, Jen or myself reading this thing. (Though surely a good sign of things to come. I’m not ungrateful Tiffany. Quite the contrary, actually. It’s just we just like to give fellow Azorian’s a proper welcome around here.)

Edit: Never mind. It appears she is a fembot or whatever the appropriate internet colloquialism for that is. (Though why anyone would even bother to spam my blog is beyond me. Perhaps they’re investing in the not-too-distant future.)

Jules finished his stuff. I went home, went to sleep. Woke up, came in to the studio. Sang December Underground (now retitled Eastbound) and Superhero. Went well enough seeing as they’re tough. Sounds great now though. There was some lady drama with that girl but I guess it’s over now. Probably for the best. I’ve got my focus back.

Mark and I are cutting rough mixes for Art Ford, music supervisor, who we’re meeting downtown at 5pm today. After that i’m off for the night so I might finally get to meet Mateus, a young guy who runs a studio in Hollywood. We’ve been supposed to hook up for ages but tonight and tomorrow morning is the first time I’ve had any time off. Mark’s got family stuff and we’ve definitely earned our break. This shit is crazy good.

Hell yeah.

*

Didn’t end up meeting Mateus just yet. It’s now the next morning and I’m waiting for him to call. Mark’s got some family stuff so we’re starting in the studio at 2pm today. We need to track vocals on Empathy and that’ll it, for the most part. Mark wants to retrack drums on a couple of tracks with a higher snare but… come on. It’s Mark. He could think it and it’d pretty much play itself.

The meeting with Art was great. A lot less serious than I thought. Sort of just a meet and greet. We went to his loft just beyond downtown LA. It’s beautiful. Amazing view, amazing vibe… Really did have myself an LA moment right there… His apartment is full of very cool stuff. He lives and works from there and at some point made reference to putting a gold record on the “stack.” 5 minutes later I noticed the actual stack of gold and platinum records in the corner…

We went downstairs to Urth cafe and I had a wonderful time listening to Mark and Art catch up. It was very interesting.

My favorite part of the trip so far was the ride back with Mark. We got a chance to hang out and talk as mates as opposed to in the studio, which by default, is our work environment. I really, really enjoyed it. Especially singing Cheap Trick together along with the radio in the traffic on the M10 as the sun slowly slipped below the palms and LA skyline.

My Curtis Mayfield EP will be waiting for me when I get home. “Movin’ On Up.” Yes indeed we are…

I think we’ve arrived…

10:40am. Tracked four songs yesterday with Jules. Killed it, killed it, killed it. Lisa picked Mark and I up at 8pm, we got In and Out burgers for dinner (and yes, they are as good as everybody says) and then I got back to the hotel and talked to my super-complicated-quasi-but-not-quite-girlfriend until falling asleep shortly after. She doesn’t like me writing about her but, it comes with the territory. She’s the only one who reads this anyway… Woke up at 5am local and talked to her a little more. Got a few more hours kip, which I’m going to need because we start doing final vocals today after Julian finishes tracking the last two tracks. I have two very cool videos from yesterday that I’ll be chucking up on youtube later.

Mark’s just running by the bank and then it’s straight back to it.

I love this job…

Julian and I also had a few very cool conversations when Mark ducked out a couple of times. He’s very insightful and very wise and is, in my opinion, an absolutely perfect guitar player. I gave up on guitar a few years ago but now I have inspiration and a mentor and the time and no excuses. He is Yoda and I am a young Obi-Wan, damnit. And in a few years I’m going to be playing the shit out of Anakin Skywalker on Mustafar…

After lunch. Julian finished one track and is coming back later to do the last one. I just did my first two passes for the final vocal on Chains. Just killed the shit out of it… honestly, that song is my bitch. And why? Because I warmed up. So all your threatening and nagging has come in useful… No I kid, but thank you so very much. It wouldn’t have been nearly this good without you.

Monday – I’m up early. 7:19am. ‘Might regret that later. Went to bed late because I was talking to a girl. That’s getting real’ dangerous, real’ quick. But it’ll all work out in the end… Watching Courtney Love kill it live at BDO 1999. Malibu. Hell yes… Today Julian comes in and we cut the electric guitars. I did most of my stuff yesterday. One more to do before he arrives this morning. I’m feeling a lot better now that I’m eating a little more and sleeping a bit better so I’ll be fine. After today we’ll be left with main vocals and extra miscellaneous. We’re reasonably ahead of schedule, I think. But Mark is very, very good at this. That was absolutely his intention. I realised yesterday just how young and inexperienced I am and how lost I’d be without it. Make no bones about it ladies and gents, because this one is important: WITHOUT MARK SCHULMAN, JORDAN AZOR WOULD HAVE NO CAREER. Funny though… My first morning here Mark was talking about how shitty Madison Square’ is. What stuck in my head about it was when he said “…when you start playing arenas…” without even so much as thinking about it. Surely that should have been an “if.” But being here and living it and doing the work and feeling it. No, it shouldn’t be. It never was. If it was an “if” I’d still be back home mopping the gas station. It’s all just a matter of time and focus and not letting myself be lead astray by the colossal draw of new girl. (I used the word “pull” instead of “draw” in that last sentence and then realised that’s just asking for trouble…) My God I need a cold shower…

About 11am – Laying down scratch vocals as we speak. Was easy and fun. Have Chains left to do and just read the lyrics to December Underground off the screen right next to my microphone.

11:30am. Yay for Julian. This is officially the easiest job in the world and these wonderful people who are a gazillion times more talented than I could ever be are making me look so absurdly good. It’s not me. For the record. All them. Eva. Mark. Jules. Jordan sucks. Put it on t-shirts and bumpers stickers. Jordan Azor is lame. Everyone around him is awesome. End of story.

1:30pm. We’re tracking… Julian’s tracking Les Paul on Superhero. I no longer feel comfortable accepting any credit for any of this. It’s incredible and… I don’t even know.

3:20pm. Mark’s gone home to see teeny-tiny and her mother. Julian’s taken Mikey for a walk and is going to pick up a guitar pedal. Jordan took a walk down to Venice beach and realised just how cold and windy it is. He is now sitting in Baja Fresh making a half hearted attempt at stealing internet (because his lady friend will be awake in 28 minutes) and waiting for his counterparts. Jordan wants a burrito. He has a theory that Mark Schulman has been hired by the Mexican government to indoctrinate up and coming cultural icons and he is succeeding immensely. The tracks… God the tracks. I take no responsibility for them but the fact that my name is pasted on the front means I’m done and dusted. I’ll be spending a lot more time here and everywhere else in the world and… honestly. There’s so much in them. So much depth and diversity and… between the four of us we’re staging a renaissance of popular culture. Honest to God, it’s that good. It’s not my ego talking because as I said, i have nothing to do with it. It’s just absolutely incredible. And we’re only two songs in for the day… God bless America. God bless everyone. And Julian is going to be my guitar teacher. When budgets and schedules allow anyway. Good times.

Sunday – 9am. – Woke up. Read Bible. Emailed lady friend. Am now standing nude, watching Scooby Doo in the mirror and brushing my teeth. I don’t think I’ve ever been this skinny before. Not like good skinny either… It’s like my flesh is hanging off my bones. I look sick… Not good. You can’t pretend to be healthy if you look as bad physically as you know you are mentally. Mark and I have one more drum track to scratch before Eva arrives at midday. Will keep you posted.

According to cartoon network it’s spring break, which of course makes sense. You can’t call it Easter break here because it’s not quite so overtly Christian here (not to say that’s an issue. Quite the opposite actually. Diversity is the spice of life, or some shiz like that…)

12:45ish. A couple of chicken burritos and we’re right back to it. The coolest thing about Eva Gardner you can not read about on her wikipedia page. Very cool lady who spent lunch joking with Mark and on the odd occasion telling a story about her Dad, himself a formidable bassist circa the British Invasion. The aforementioned coolest thing about Eva, however, is that she is a big giant bass nerd. Not just playing them but pulling them apart and turning them over and… passion. The lady is bass. And very shortly we’re about to start tracking. I get to sit back, grin and give the occasional note, not that I’ll have to bother, i’m sure. Yay for another fun afternoon!

3:30pm ish – Normal conversation in between sessions. Mark and a visitor named Andrew, around my age: “Hey, how’s your Dad..?” “Oh, he’s alright. Just finished up a tour with Harry Connick jr. He’s trying to get me out on a little tour soon.” “Hey, man, we’re going to Europe with Pink soon. Give your Dad a call, see if he can hook you up…” And ten minutes later, there you have it. Followed by me, feeling as if i’m about to throw up. Me and Eva: “…is the room moving..?” “Oh yeah. That’s just a little earthquake…” “Sorry.. what?” “…An earthquake.” “I’ve never… been in an earthquake before. “…Welcome to California.” Tracks are working out freaking mega though. Seriously. Eva and her Fender Precision will blow your socks off.

9pm ish. Back at the hotel. Eva killed it. Went to see baby Zade and lovely Lisa at 5:30pm. She fed me again and sent me home with more for dinner. ‘Went back to the studio and cut my guitar on five out of six songs. Tomorrow I’ll finish up and Julian will come in to do his stuff. After that all that’s really of tracking is to sing. We’re making good time. Apparently the first of the meetings is on Tuesday.

ps. That earthquake was a bigger deal than we initially realised. 7.2 on the Richter 131 miles from the studio…

Brisbane International Airport, Gate 85, What the hell timezone am I in..? – My head hurts. I’m going to be sitting here for about an hour and a half. And then, I shall sleep… Finally tracked down the headphones I’ve been looking for the last 7 days. Haven’t slept since… I dunno. Some time yesterday afternoon. What time is it? Mahhh… I’m a little messed up but have to make sure I don’t pass out before boarding. That’ll throw me off too much for the first session (which is about an hour and a half after I land) and… you know. I might sleep through boarding and not make it at all.

Bruce got caught up and ended up driving me all the way to the airport instead of just the Helensvale station. See? I told you we were alike. We had a good long chat about all kinds of things and I think I learned a thing or two. I’ve also decided I’m going to take a meeting with that bloke who slept with my ex and keeps trying to talk to me. I’m bringing company. Company who sent me an interesting text as I struggled through the security checkpoint an hour ago. It’s official: Things are very complicated. But I’m not complaining. I’m happy. Apparently I’ve learned to make small talk with peoplepeople too which is nice. Although it’s not really small talk because I find myself genuinely interested in Zack the new uncle\probationary gate security officer on shift since 8am\future yoga instructor (the correct and traditional title for I have forgotten. It may or may not be “guru” and there may or may not be a female equivalent. I’m sure I could recall if I were well rested but by the time I am I’ll have wikipedia access again anyhoo. [sic])

I’m learning a thing or two about travel. These are some observations that I’m going to revise at some point in the future: There are two types of seasoned traveller. The first wear suits and jackets and shiny shoes and are clean shaven and immaculate and efficient as all hell. Cold and emotionless and unmoving. Like a Terminator (occasionally accent inclusive.) The second is what I’m quickly becoming. The entirely unashamed, yet extremely comfortable, pajama wearing, bench sleeping, bag pillow, shoes off on the plane, everything within 10kms of the airport becomes my public bedroom type of person. I don’t care if you see my underwear. Open the bag, get me through the check point and for God’s sake LET ME SLEEP…

Right. I’m shutting up now and listening to Augustana’s All The Stars and Boulevards (record, not just the song) as is tradition… There’s a line from Wasteland that I can’t remember with the pink mush in my skull presently standing in for my brain “…on a plane back to LA…” is all I remember. (Looked it up later “…now I’m sitting on a plane, lonely flight back to LA…” and a lot of other very appropriate stuff.)

And away we went… (WHAT IF GOD WAS ONE OF US!!!??)

ps. Holy Crap, these headphones are incredible. Panasonic RP-HC500, if you’re in the market.

No idea what time it is. What day it is. What timezone I’m in. Seat 54a – South – From Here On In. I wrote her a letter effectively ending the relationship that started really growing roots 8 or 9 days ago and probably never should have happened in the first place. But shit, when two people drifting through the universe collide… Under different circumstances things would have played out very differently. Another time. Another place. Another life. All I have to do is make sure I stick to my guns which could be challenging seeing as I like her as much as she likes me (which is a lot.)

I’ve had my plane chicken and my plane icy pole and now I’m going to have some more plane sleep. ‘Wake up and finish this record on my awesome headphones. Finally old enough to make effective use of that eyepatch thing. And was a little upset to discover that my macbook power adapter doesn’t have a place in my armrest but they’ve got an abused number of movies on the personal entertainment system thing so after I wake up I’m going to watch Clooney in “In the Air” followed by Pink -Funhouse live in Sydney, because it’s ever so appropriate, quaint and ironic. All things I love.

Over and out.

That’s like… close to 9 hours of natural sleep on the plane. Go me. I think I have enough time for that Clooney movie and that’s pretty much the flight. I suppose it’s different. She hasn’t been around long enough for me to say I miss her but I certainly do wish to be around her again. Stupid, stupid man-boy… The lights are down and the plane is lit by the occasional orange glow of reading lights and seatbelt signs. It’s kinda soothing. I’m not hungry, not thirsty, not entirely uncomfortable. Just… well, that’s surprising. I think the word I’m looking for is “peace(ful).” Don’t people usually describe this things as brutal?

That’s God, I think. God is here just as God is always here but right now it feels like I’m wrapped up in a blanket, or laying next to someone I care about and feeling the warmth from their body or being hugged by my Dad which is one of my favourite places in the world to be, but I don’t tell him that enough. Maybe not ever… I’m ready for all of it. At least as ready as I’ll ever be.

A couple of fractured Psalm extracts to close because I can’t reach my Bible without waking the woman next to me and I can never seem to remember them in their entirety:

With my God I can scale a wall. With God I can advance against a troop. For who is the rock beside the Lord? If my God is with me, who can be against me?

Probably a bit over halfway through the movie. It’s great. Probably the film I’ve enjoyed most since… hell, maybe Enchanted in Melbourne 3 or 4 years ago. Breakfast is coming around. I think there’s an hour thirty five left of the flight. Stupid Anna Kendrick reminds me a bit of… Let’s talk about breakfast. Scrambled eggs with sausage and tomato. I think I’m lucky enough to really like airline travel. Probably part of the reason why I’m enjoying this movie. Protagonist is so poignantly and obviously flawed but played to perfection by Clooney and still so very endearing.

Right back to it.

Meaningless, meaningless, says the teacher. Everything is meaningless… Great movie. Possibly the most depressing thing I’ve seen in years. I’ve finally got everything I want. 10,000,000 miles and an empty backpack. I’m a real rock n’ roller. And only now do I see that other side of the coin. ‘Dark side of the moon. Every sacrifice and compromise for something greater starts to feel real in this new perspective. She’s right. All I am is an escape. And I don’t want to be a parenthesis. But perhaps, I don’t have a choice.

But. Maybe. Just maybe. I do…

I’m not sad. I’m satisfied. So maybe there isn’t really an issue at all. Just the nibble and the nag of it all. The ever present ‘What If?’

35 minutes to LAX.

It’s gonna be a good day.

In studio. No idea what time it is. No idea what day it is. Acoustic scratch tracks, done. Mark on drums. No drug on earth could even come close to how FUCKING AWESOME THIS SHIT ISSS!!!!!

Ramada Hotel, Venice California. Clock says it’s 9:29pm. – Mark and I worked for 11 hours today. I’m going to pass out very soon but as is typical and traditional and ever so Azorian, I’m waiting up for a girl who may or may not turn up…

Lisa invited me to dinner with her parents and so I met little baby Zade and dined with the Schulman household. It left me full and warm in stomach and soul.

Tomorrow Eva Gardner is coming in to cut bass tracks and I’ll be laying down final guitar rhythms. Today we managed to cut scratches of six songs, acoustic and vocal and Mark put down guide drums on five. We’ll do the last one tomorrow morning before Eva arrives. 8:30am wake up call.

I feel more at home on the road than I’ve felt at home for years and years.

And no-one is going to read this. It’s way too long and is now being written solely for my own interest.

Nighty night.

8:32pm, Glen’s house – The Who live at Kilburn. I came here first after arriving at Ryan and Bruce’s. It was a bit like coming home. Everyone gets it. We listen to music, we watch music, we talk about music and we have a damn good time doing it. Glen’s a wise man much like Bruce is a wise man. Kindred spirits I suppose. In particular, Glen exposes me to new music, all of which is wonderful and I wouldn’t have heard otherwise. And the music I should know but don’t for one reason or another (5 minutes ago it was Van Halen, we watched the highlights of a Talking Heads concert last time, Jeff Beck new and old etc) he makes sure I’m up to speed on before I leave.

Letesha, his significant other, isn’t here tonight but she’s lovely. You can just tell she’s one of those kind, lovely, caring people. It’s in her eyes. It’s a wonderful thing that gives you a bit more faith in the world to see the two of them together. Glen’s a giver. You can tell by just how much his students love him and just how much he loves music. Yesterday a classical guitar student, 9 or so, gave him a chocolate pizza for Easter.

Cut a new demo before I left. Single take. I’m starting to get a feel for the other rooms in the studio. One is harder, one is softer, one is deeper etc… It’s great.

The reason this DVD is on is so I can “get” John Entwhistle. He’s taking a solo at present. Suffices to say: I get it now.

Oh yes. His collection of classic Sci-Fi toys is ridiculous. Am now going to take several pictures of.

10:28pm – Lessons from Frank Zappa, courtesy of Glen: The concept of “Creative Continuity.”

Apparently Zappa used to work constantly on any number of projects simultaneously. His belief was that creative continuity could only exist when the art was allowed to breathe and thus came unforced and entirely on its’ own accord. He would work on one project until his creative flow ceased, then move on to the next and so on and by the time he came full circle, he was in a position to continue work on the initial project until the subsequent artistic plateau. Rinse and repeat until completion (and on a grander scale, death.)

I’ve recently started a new project, tentatively named “The Reprieve.” That along with with the Trio and the Band, I naturally assumed, as they preach in the ‘mainstream’ that it was far too much of an undertaking for both me but more importantly, any perspective audience. I am very happy that someone far wiser and more talented than me has proved that notion fundamentally false by living and embodying the contrary.

Also. Randy Rhodes is still that good and I need to take some guitar lessons from Julian…

April 3rd, 4:32am – In an hour I leave for the airport. That’s enough time to pack my things and take a shower. Where did the time go? Well, I sort of know. I have a hell of a lot of new demos and some snaps and a few new friends and visited some old ones. Altogether, I’m a very happy man. Besides the fact that my phone isn’t going to have reception in the states. But that’s okay. We’ll email and maybe Skype and certainly catch up when I get home. Even though we probably shouldn’t. And even if you don’t agree with me, I still know better.

That’s what you get for falling asleep on me the second night in a row…

April 1st, 6:00pm – Fuck I love it here. I’m sitting in the drum room with two students and two teachers. Ended up wondering in because of the bleed through my open door. We’re learning how to structure and compose a drum solo. The principle involves internalizing the melody of a song, following the rhythms and later, embellishing further with fills and ghosts and rudiments etc. Sounds basic but I’ve just learned something very important and it’s amazingly poignant.

A couple of observations about these students (and teachers.) They all sing. Unapologetically and accurately enough. And they have zero fear. It’s the complete opposite of vocal students who frequently shy away and whisper into their collars. There is no hiding behind anything. You hit the snare and you hit it hard and that’s how you hit the snare. Thus it fosters a culture of support and encouragement because you can hear strengths and weaknesses of someone’s playing immediately and they can hear yours. So the criticism is constructive and the compliments are sincere. And everyone returns the favour.

Drummers are much nicer than other musos.

April 2nd, 5:20am – What an incredible day… I cut a cover of Can’t Stop for shits and giggles then we headed into Surfer’s Paradise for Mike’s going away drinks. A very quaint, very lovely German pub that looked a hell of a lot like a set from Inglorious Baestards. Mike and his wife Christine, (lovely people) are relocating to London and as is the standard in the Gold Coast, all of their friends who came to see them off are lovely. Roz the vocal teacher, 10 weeks pregnant, and her husband gave us a ride in. And everyone besides she and I were drinking these absolutely ridiculous sized beers. The very pretty, very authentic Bavarian barmaid caught me staring at her one too many times (she was wearing this… I’m still not sure if it was a dress or a costume and in the context, carrying around beer mugs full and empty and mopping up after everyone it just screamed ‘Cinderella’) and, wouldn’t you know it… she smiled. Well that’s never happened before. And I actually spoke to her a little. That hasn’t happened either. And the real kicker is, I asked for her number and she gave it to me. After she had changed into her street clothes. According to her T-shirt she loves Sydney… Don’t we all?

Got back after midnight. Went back to work. Cut two killer demos, wrote one and a half today. (As one was half finished.) And as I left the studio the sun chased me so I need to get some rest but I still have no pillow. Thanks Ryan…

Mark stuff is much the same. We’re all very excited and doing our respective prep’.

And I’m neglecting to mention I spoke a lot today with someone rather important. That is getting rather complicated rather quickly. Good complicated though. I think.

I’m going to upload a few photos from the night when I get a chance. Just a bit frazzled at the moment. Sorry.

First off, I want to say something:

To all the pathetic, conformist wasters: Fuck you. We win. You Lose.

To anyone who flying their own flag and going their own way: It’s been a long time coming but the good is finally here with the better right on her heels.

Perth Domestic, Gate 15, 11:39am – Most people I know of, who are about my age, attend university, live out of home and go much, much harder than I do in almost every way. I’m well aware their sleep-deprivation quota kicks the crap out of mine but I’ve had somewhere in the vicinity of about 7 hours in the last two or three days, depending on how you tally it. That’s probably a personal best because I don’t do much but eat and sleep a lot. Presently I feel a bit like I’ve taken a large (therapeutic) dose of temazapam, albeit slightly less depressed and slightly more lucid. It’s also nice to know I’m probably not going to have to worry about anterior grade amnesia.

By the way, thanks to all the people I’ve been privy to lately. Particularly the newbies. You weren’t a second too late, nor a second to early and if you don’t already know, you’re awesome. (Now all you have to do is start believing that.)

QF589, Somewhere Above central (coastal?) Australia, No idea what time (oh, hang on. Computer clock says 2pm) – Got on the plane, took a bit of a nap and discovered a handful of things much to my surprise and delight. Flying, if not in absolute-extreme-tape-youself-to-the-wing-and-hold-on-for-dear-life economy, can actually be quite pleasant. A half inch more space in regular economy is such an incredible amount when it’s a little to spare as upped to a little wanting. I’m also the only person in the world who likes airline food. I like the anticipation, the surprise and the variation. It reminds me of hospital food when I was a kid. Which reminds me, I suppose, of feeling taken care of by someone bigger and smarter than me. Speaking of which, I’m quite happy to report that Eleanor has been usurped as the monarch of wandering thoughts and, more importantly, the dreams. In her place was a pensive and very pleasant observation and reflection on the events and company of Tuesday night, strange and magnificent it was…

You were right about that night and I’m starting to think you might be right about this trip. Thanks again.

Brisbane Airport, “Airtrain” to the Gold Coast, 5:28pm (7:38pm new local time.) – Very pleasant flight. Woke up twice. The second time was for a slightly chewy frosty fruits icy pole and Lord knows I love those… Lots of nice messages when I turned my phone on. One in particular I’m still not sure about replying to. I’m well aware that I’m me and with her being her I keep saying in my head “…don’t fall in love with her. You’re not falling in love with her…” over and over again. I think it’s helping..? It’s a different type of relationship this time and it’ll never work out, but it always will… I can think of various fictional analogies but I think I’ve said more than enough for now.

‘Had some spare time waiting for my guitar at oversized’. Went through and deleted every damn picture on my phone and felt almost nothing. I am free, or at least as close to free as I’ve ever been. And she will forever be chained by all that could have been and just how badly she fucked everything up. The funny thing about Christianity is, you’ll always see justice, it’ll just never, ever feel good. As soon as you start to enjoy it, you cease being Christianly and it’ll turn right around and devour you…

God bless and keep them all.

8:57pm, Bored on the train – Am going to try dabbling with my 500d when I get to where I’m going (or rather, where the train happens to be going within this very select and isolate moment in time. ‘Photograph of time’ is a topical metaphor… anyway.) Thinking too much and too hard. Fuck you train. I’m not in love with her. I don’t know her. I know the way she makes me feel and that’s what this is about. Which is a terrible, awful, selfish, fucked up thing to admit. She deserves so much better and I deserve to be alone. End of conversation. With… Myself..?

All the while I write this I’m wondering who I’m trying to convince because honestly, that’s either completely true or utter bullshit. Or half and half, I guess.

Oh bloody hell… I’m in a really good mood though. Besides losing my little camera cable though if that’s the only thing to go wrong I’m still a very happy man. If I had that silly thing I’d be cutting and chopping together dodgy snaps instead of… narrating an audience through the trials and tribulations… wait. George Orwell said something like ‘If you’ve ever heard it before, don’t write it.’ Narrating an audience through the… nope. Everything else I can think of is pompous and amateur. I guess there are some merits to a cliche after all.

That’s enough Jordan. Shut up. You’re diluting your own work with pointless drivel.

10:32pm, Helensvale, My room – Another 2400 miles of major transit today. That brings my total for the year up to 7,400. I’m planting a tree as soon as I get home. There’s actually a room here that has been empty since I left and all parties concerned are quite happy that I occupy it indefinitely when I’m in town. And that’s not to say… so, there’s the main house which is awesome, there’s the studio, there’s the gym, there’s the menagerie, lake, zen garden thing in the back, the tennis court, a few other bits and pieces and then Ryan’s apartment which has absolutely all the comforts of home (if I had one and decked it out) plus Ryan who is, again, awesome. We get each other, which is rare for me, personally of course but even professionally and musically speaking as well. And he’s quite happy to welcome me into his home and literally make it mine as well. Which I realised today it is, to a large degree.

Today was a very good day.

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...For what feels like the first time in my life.

*

Many wheels are turning, cogs are groaning and the big machine is slowly coming to life. As to which machine I’m referring to, you can go ahead and interpret that however you like.

This is where I live. In many ways, this is what I am.

Much of the time I am alone but I am never lonely. And although God has always been with me, lately it has just been so much better.

I apologise for offending anyone but I’ve always spoken candidly. Albeit occasionally… or frequently to far too great a degree.

I’m on a plane again in a few hours. It has been a while but as they say, it never rains but it pours. My desktop wallpaper features Spike Speigl walking in the rain (thanks Yoko Kanno and Steve Conte.)

I’ll be in Adelaide by tomorrow afternoon, then on to the Gold Coast a day after that. I get to sleep on the floor of a studio-in-construction and talk engineering for a few days before my parents arrive from Canberra and we check in to alternate accommodation. I don’t actually know why any of us are going on this trip but I have faith that its’ purpose will be revealed in due course.

It just feels good to be moving again. To breathe sweeter air and look down on the clouds. To feel the wind on my face and through my mane and stand alone looking out at the ocean and know, for once, for the first time in my life, that there is nowhere else I would rather be.

I am happy.

I have found some small measure of peace.

I’m a little wiped out.

I’ve been a little wiped out for a while.

I’m not the only one.

I don’t know why but I’m strangely comforted by the season. The Hyde Park gig last night was short, with a broken string and no spare guitar but certainly the best in years. We’re getting quite good and we’re enjoying ourselves.

I’ve been thinking about another show at the Fly some time next year.

I’m still waiting on news from the North but no doubt it will arrive some time in the coming days.

And that’s that, I suppose. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being with us and being one of us this year. I know there aren’t too many at the moment but we can all say we’ve been here from the beginning. I’m sure things will be very different next year. Much bigger and much better. But as always, I’ve no doubt we’ll be feeling a strange nostalgia for these less-than-ideal times and circumstances.

I love you guys. I mean it.

The Eleanor LP 1. The Eleanor Interlude Part I – Not Tonight 2. My Left Lung (Kill Me) 3. Eastbound 4. Only The Morning 5. As You Found 6. 9 To 5 7. The Laboratory 8. Hey Eliza 9. The Eleanor Interlude Part II – Maybe Tomorrow 10. Hold The Line (Limerance)