I rarely get chance to write blogs. But it isn’t every day that your band’s debut album is twenty years old.

Firstly, thank you to everyone for the overwhelming and humbling amount of mail I’ve received saying all kinds of nice things about Transfusion, how much it means to you, how it was the soundtrack of your youth, wonderful sentiments and messages of support. And thanks for reminding me that today is the twentieth anniversary of the album’s release - I had no idea! Obviously, this is another, ‘I can’t possibly reply personally to each of you,’ cases, but this blog is for all of you, individually and collectively.

For me, Transfusion triggers a mixture of pleasure and pain. My pride in the album remains undiminished. It is the perfect example of a band of fabulous players who rehearsed tirelessly, toured and fine-tuned every song until every phrase, riff, note and fill was ingrained in our souls, and performed together with a tightness and attitude that only living and breathing the material together can attain. Everything was about the music, and our extended musical team of Simon Efemey, Russ Russell and Rudy Reed, all intent on making the best, biggest-sounding, most powerful album we could on a very limited budget.

Pre-Transfusion memories flood back - rehearsing in drummer Sam’s garage, touring non-stop in an old Ford Escort with Sam’s home-made trailer on truck springs hooked to the back, stacked with our PA and back line. Playing any and every gig we could find, changing the name of the band every night because, hey, it was our thing. We were just Those Guys In The Awesome Band who an increasing amount of people started coming to see. And those gigs generated enough money for us to record demos, which we sold at other gigs to fund more demos and keep us off the dole. Odd when you think about it - a band with no name built an underground following so big that record labels began sniffing around. A lot of record labels. Probably all of them.

All kinds of offers came our way: big deals, small deals, long contracts, short contracts, mega money and fuck-all money. In the end, we went with the label who, on paper, would allow us to make the album we wanted to make without interference, and who would allow us to make the album with the producer of our choice without lengthy delays and dilution, and without having to move to LA and become hopelessly addicted to class A drugs for three years before executives decided what was the best way to market the band. We’d make three albums for MFN, tour constantly, recoup all the investment capital, and be in a great position to negotiate with bigger labels on our terms for album four. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Many of you are familiar with some of the less savoury details to which I assign the ‘pain’ which followed on fromTransfusion, but I am not going to bang on about any of that in this post.

It is wonderful that so many of you have taken the time to send your thoughts and feelings about the first Apes album, and I am extremely happy that so many of you have stayed with me since that time.

Of course, a number of you have made, ‘anniversary tour,’ comments. As those who have followed my solo career will know, everything I have done has been in the hope of generating enough money to make putting a band back on the road a possibility. That remains the case, but, at present, the prospect is, financially speaking, as elusive as ever. I need to sell a lot more of what I release for touring to become a consideration.

Thank you all for your fantastic support. I remain as enthusiastic about my music as I was twenty years ago. My faith is undimmed, my skills are more finely tuned, and my mental armour is strong enough to face each day with renewed optimism.

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