Back in February this year (I think) I first entered Arkham Recording Studios in Birmingham with the aim of recording an album full of original Ian Danter compositions.

6 months on and I'm delighted to say that the project is really starting to come together - it hasn't been possible to block book 4 weeks straight in the studio to get things done in one 'hit' as my life & career simply doesn't allow that - nor did I expect it to when I began.

My dear and trusted friend Phil Docker recently put a link up on one of his social networking pages to the film “The Decline Of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years”, a documentary filmed by Penelope Spheeris (who went on to successfully direct Wayne’s World) in and around Los Angeles during the Glam rock & Metal explosion that occurred on Sunset Strip in the late 80’s.

It’s a perfect social document of the time; decadent, free-spirited, unapologetic, amoral and was probably just as much fun to be in the thick of as it looked – at least in the short term.

Being a drummer means never having to say you heard what the guitarist asked you to do in rehearsal.

There, I’ve got a gag in early, seeing as us sticksmen are almost always the butt of the jokes. Like…

• What’s the difference between a drum machine and a drummer? You only have to punch the information into a drum machine once…
• How do you know when there’s a drummer at your front door? He knocks out of time and never knows when to come in.
• How can you tell when the drum riser is level? The drummer dribbles out of BOTH sides of his mouth.

I get some weird jobs at times.

I just had to scrap the last 962 words.

That’s because I’d typed a load of gibberish on Tuesday night about Blues’ last visit to the Championship Playoff Final a decade ago and how Darren Carter had coolly booked our passage into the land of milk and honey with a sweet left-footed pen – and further to that that we stood a great chance of getting back there on Wednesday if we…you can guess the rest.

Cheers Blackpool.

It’s been a busy busy couple of weeks at the sporting & musical coalface.

I had a unique experience last weekend (not sure whether it’s sport by the way, but that’s another debate) when I was asked by talkSPORT to cover the UKIPT Pokerstars final tournament at the Dusk Till Dawn club in Nottingham.

Around a quarter to seven Saturday evening, Peter Crouch lit up what had been an attritional game at the Britannia Stadium with the kind of goal that should provoke nothing but fulsome praise and exaltation at its execution and skill.

But this is England, so that never happens of course. Shame on us.

Within seconds of Crouch’s extraordinary volley, my timelines were full of comments ranging from the woefully inaccurate (‘he didn’t mean that/that was a cross’) to the unbelievably stupid (‘So what? He doesn’t do that sort of thing often enough…’)

***I was asked by the Football Writers Association to write a blog of a typical week in my working life (if there is such a thing as typical in my world) - here it is in all its glory. Enjoy***

Monday 5th March

I find some football fans flair for the overstatement to be immensely frustrating at times.

In the wake of Mick McCarthy’s sacking at Wolves this past Monday, a caller rang Alan Brazil on talkSPORT saying he was a season ticket holder for 20 years and that (I’m paraphrasing here) the home defeat to WBA was “the worst I’ve ever seen to be honest”.