Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Sunday)

Sunday was sunny and bright and airy and there was a baseball game on in Ole Miss U so Brock Hudson, who looks more like “Sweep the leg Johnny” Johnny from Karate Kid everyday, drove us there in the back of his pick-up truck. The Kieran, Max and Johnny express, we were like fun-loving dogs, furry ears flapping in the warm wind, waving at people in traffic and soaking up as much sunshine as our pores could handle. Found seats overlooking 3rd base. Closest to 3rd base some of the lads had been in quite a while. Ole Miss were winning 8-3 and it was the bottom of the 8th...closest thing to a bottom some of the lads...etc, etc...WHAT? Anyway, drank ice-cold coca-colas and cheered anything and everything and saw a sign on the other side of the field which read “K K K K K.” Max though it might be “Knights of the Klu Klux Klan Klub” or something and Kieran suddenly felt conscious of the fact that he was shouting KKK and laughing about it in public...no shame in that. Arranged to meet some of our new Oxford friends to go on a nice forest walk. Kerry, Lizzy and Hannah are all actors studying at the University. We've changed their names to protect them because they're really called Olivia Newton John, Mark Wahlberg and Max Von Sydow and if people ever found out that they were living in Oxford they'd harass them for worn pairs of Calvin Klein undies and The Seventh Seal commemorative chess sets and Grease-proof paper and other junk and they hate that. They led us through a leafless forest, yellow and ocher everywhere. Soft ground, fresh air and good company and we were happy, although the place had a bit of a smelly mountain raper vibe to it. The kind of place where Burt Reynolds' friends are massaged against their will and get compliments about their mouths. That film really makes the idea of pulled pork even funnier than it normally sounds. Anyway, went to High Point Cafe for rehydration and caffeine and chats and planning for our evening out. Mexican food in El Milagro Taqueria and a movie. Delicious soft corn tortilla tacos with pork, hard shell tacos with minced beef and steak fajitas, all with guacamole and sour cream and lettuce and salsa valentina, no me digas wey! The waitress was about 14 months pregnant...probably a Mexican theme restaurant thing or something...it definitely made the experience seem more genuine...is that racist?...probably or maybe just a very very very very very ignorant thing to say. Strike it from the record. The food was great and the artwork on the tables was even more impressive. Disco conquistadors and camp Aztec warriors who clearly figured out the 8 minute abs workout hundreds of years before it was cool....sexy Mexican maids and other deadly stuff. They also have Karaoke. Must be my favourite combination of things in general. Went to the cinema. Split up. Max went to “Cop Out” with Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan while Kieran and Johnny took in “The Wolfman” with Benicio Del Toro and Anthony Hopkins. Upon meeting up after the showings the lads shared their marks out of ten. “The Wolfman” received a glittering 2 out of 10...because, according to Kieran it had a bit where the wolf went, “raaaaaaarrrr.....RAAAAAARRRRR?????” “Cop Out” got 1 out of 10 and Max still felt that was generous. If he had known it was made by Kevin Smith then he would have gone to see “Valentine's Day” with Jessica Alba and Jamie Foxx and Jessica Biel and Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Garner and Ashton Kutcher and all his other favourite acting people who weren't in “Cop Out” and probably haven't worked on anything with Kevin Smith and he would have given it a 10 out of 10 for not being “Cop Out” and for being about love and normal people who love each other and Valentine's day and stuff like that....and that. The only cure for shit films like those was going to bed and falling asleep so that we didn't have to think about anything anymore. Sleep is genius!

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Saturday)

Wowee, Saturday was hella painful. Brock took Phil to Memphis in the morning. Phil slept the whole way there. Johnny went swimming again...dangerous, sexy and cool swimming with his heart pounding and his body sweating Rioja into the chlorine. Kieran woke Max up at 12 so he could fall down in the shower again. No real harm done, just good clean fun. Brock ferried the lads to the studio where Kieran was due to complete a leaden-headed and shaky-fingered bass part for “You lie, you get more.” He got stuck in without complaining as Max fell asleep on the comfy couch in the TV room dreaming of being asleep in his own bed and waking up in his dream to cups of tea and chocolate digestives and chocmallows and maybe a sneaky Kimberly Mikado...and while we're now in dreamland why not throw in four midgets dressed as the Beatles circa 1967 with bowler hairdos and all and maybe a golden condor who speaks of the devastation caused by the conquistadors before transforming into a pair of daisy duke shorts being worn by Peter Falk in Columbo and when I click my fingers you'll wake up...1,2,3...aaaaannnnddddd you're awake! Thank goodness. The rest of the day was a bit of a blur to be honest. Kieran did some playing, Kyle did some comping, which is where he takes the bits we didn't fuck up and glues them all together so that we sound like accomplished musicians. God bless his cotton socks and celiac face. Max relaxed by reading the Hoarsebox blog. It's such fun...AHHHHD SAAAAYYY!!!. Maybe the truth should be told now and again he thinks so that people know just how hard they're all working and how little down time there is and how the music industry is so cruel but they're all banding together to make this experience a success and four become one without kissin' and all Max wants is to get a mohawk in the funny African American barbers and to eat a salad in Mississippi that doesn't comprise of meat, or fried catfish or blue cheese or nuts with gloop on it...lettuce is illegal...and one day we'll tell our children's children that we tasted life as not many people have, deep fried and smothered in Louisiana hot sauce with music on the side and plenty of unbridled fun to wash it all down. It has been quite an experience so far. Maybe we ate Japanese food again...who knows, we were exhausted and running on sweetened fumes and who really cares? We were ready to rest on Sunday.

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Looking forward to our Irish Tour! Check out our dates http://ping.fm/Mm9BF and we hope to see you at one of our shows!!

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Friday)

Friday: It was Phil’s last day before going home to his lady with a baby.  Went to the studio. We probably made more music...This is being written on the following Tuesday so we can’t remember. It’s in the past so let’s leave it there and make up a more remarkable story about Friday. Maybe some of it will be true by accident. Max had been climbing Mount Juliet Binoche in his dreams and had fallen out of the top bunk onto a carpet covered in corn tortillas and salsa. Ouch. He then woke up to find that the tortillas were all a dream and Mount Juliet Binoche was only something he had written that he thought was funny at the time. He got down to brass tax and recorded his drum part. No problems. Kieran started slappin’ da bass mon...ugh...and Phil guitared his way to glory before John-Joe finished off with some keys keys. Difficult to know what it sounds like as all music now sounds the same. I'm sure Westlife have experienced the same thing, actually not sure if they’ve ever been in a recording studio, but if they have I'm sure they’d have this type of feeling, if they in fact have any feelings at all after their extensive all-over body botox, lobotomies and ...what’s the opposite of exorcisms? Anyway, a volcano erupted up the road and the devil gave us an opportunity to grab one thing of value from the studio before the whole place was covered in a gloopy bed of flaming hot magma. Phil was first and he went straight for Dennis’s guitar. Only a week earlier he tried to do a deal with Dennis that if we won a Grammy for him from this album Phil could keep the guitar. Dennis made the point that if we won a Grammy we may actually owe him something and not the other way around. Fair point. Kieran was tempted to save the hummus from the fridge cos it’s tasty an all but he opted for putting Will the intern on his shoulder and doing a legger. I’d like to say Johnny wanted to save Michael the Tech but Michael is a celiac and wouldn’t survive very long in a post-apocalyptic Mississippi, so he decided to nab a pack of the studio’s delicious herbal teas. Drinking camomile tea while watching a town burn and its inhabitants melt seems so southern and relaxing. Max just grabbed his crotch with both hands and let out a big Michael Jackson “HEE HEEEEE!!!” before again waking up on the couch in the control room to the sounds of “My grey pilot” flowing through the air. Sounds good. The kind of thing that could also make it onto Grey’s Anatomy or Brookside or Hollyoaks Nights or Ros Na Run or some other jive.   No way, dinner in Two Stick? Yes, Japanese food is really the only way. Although we went for the vault and ate so much tempura we might as well have had three snack boxes and a half dozen batter sausages. Forgot to mention that Two Stick is on a hill so the lava was slow to catch us there. Seeing as it was Phil’s last night and he had to get up early to fly home we thought we’d supplement our volcano escape experience with a few cheeky beers, gin and tonics, Riojas and Rumblemints (The local name for the 100 proof murder juice toothpaste that is peppermint schnapps). We met with our lawyer, The right honourable Lady Lawboobs who told us of her magical condo on top of the highest hill in Oxford. A perfect excape from the deceptively slow Volcanic hot sauce that was creeping up behind us everywhere we went. Lady Lawboobs’ little dog,  Lilly the Pliny the Elder, panicked and ate attention deficit disorder medication and sleeping pills and tried to land before she had taken off. Her heart exploded and she was grand. The devil told us it wasn’t any fun for us to be hiding away like that so he summoned us home to drink Miller High Life’s and pour tequila into laptops and disco dance on high stools while playing guitar and do saxophone solos to people on Skype before one by one throwing ourselves into the oncoming lava. That was the best bit. Would there be a Saturday? Would there be more blogging? Did you hear about the man with a wooden willy? .......Wooden pee!!! Anyway, seeing as we’ve already said this is being written the following Tuesday it’s safe to say we somehow survived and had to go to the studio the next day. Let’s hope it wasn’t too painful.

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Thursday)

Thursday began like almost every other here in Oxford. Johnny got up early and went swimming. Philip practiced “Sarah” by Phil Lynott on his alto saxamaphone so he’ll be able to loudly but kind-heartedly serenade his lovely lady (coincidentally also named Sarah) while she gives birth to their baby in a few days time. Phil is leaving on Saturday to perform at the big event. Kieran went for another run up the hill but stopped after ten minutes, cross-eyed and breathless. Heavy-lunged he made his way home to do something far more fulfilling and cozy, talk to his wife on skype in the comfort of their own free space IN the internet. Max woke up  and turned on ESPN’s sportscenter where he could get all the same “news” he had watched the night before but presented by two new hosts. He loves sports so much he doesn’t mind getting caught in a déjà-vu of replays and top ten plays and cheesy commentary. “Yo, he must be butter...cos he’s on a roll!” Kieran, Phil and Max met in the kitchen to make each other eggs and things before Brock came to pick them up and take them to the studio. Kyle was making sure we sounded good on the Apple Mac (Product placement) nudging parts this way and that and doing some basic mixing. So there’s time for Phil and Max to shoot some hoops and try to break the most pathetic record of all time. 5 shots made in a row. We just can’t get 6.  Who really care, eh? We’re not hoopsters, we’re unhip hipsters. Get in and start playing “UP” together in the room. A few takes, a few changes of drum sound...more sheets of paper on the snare, some chewing gum and Max’s wallet, believe it or not.  Play through the song a few times. Some deli sandwiches, yum yum Italian meaty things that are so big they need to be liquidized to consume and then back for a few more goes. We take a dinner break to head to Marie’s Lebanese Restaurant for the Veggie plates and hummus and Falafel wraps...and a few cheeky French fries. Back to Sweet Tea and we get it done in three takes. Genius!...or at least the computer and Kyle will make it sound like genius. Home to the range for some touchdown dip...won’t bother explaining that...a glass of ice cold Coca Cola and bed. Phil is now “two sleeps from home.” COME ON FRIDAY!!!

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Check out our new blog http://ping.fm/KA6Rf and follow us on Twitter http://ping.fm/ckJFk Enjoy the reading:-)

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Wednesday)

Wednesday: Started tracking “I won’t worry.” This tune will get us on whatever new show takes over the Grey’s Anatomy market. There will be a scene that features a young guy with floppy hair, who does a job that people who look like him could never do, like doctor or lawyer or some other crap, and he’ll be standing outside some young wan’s flat in the pissing rain, as she’s curled up in her dimly lit and tastefully decorated bedroom crying without running her perfect make-up. We will then be cashing our royalty checks for this housey/handbag ballad and going to Funderland for a week straight ridin’ all the rides and winning all the toys. WEEEEE!!! Anyways, got the instrumentation done and Kyle hurled himself at the computer to put everything where it was supposed to be in the first place. He likes doing that like we like playing Pro Evo. He could do that stuff all day like we could Pro Evo, except we can drink and eat crisps and all that while we play our game, but he has to concentrate or people don’t get famous. We will thank him when we’re famous by bringing him to Funderland or maybe ice-skating in Smithfield. Went to Proud Larry’s for their 2 for 1 special night on burgers and domestics and wine. It’s funny, when you ask for the burger as part of the special, they think you want two burgers and two beers...for yourself! We had to be clear that we were going to essentially have a burger each cos having two is psychotic. We eat a lot but that’s filthy. Having said that, Kyle got two. But he is a celiac (Ahern) so he didn’t have no buns. He ingeniously put together a makeshift burger using the beef patties as buns and a slice of tomato and lettuce as the filling. He’s a hero. Watching him eat that was like watching the old people in “Cocoon” swimming in that pool full of alien fetuses, disgusting but also life-affirming. So, back to the studio to do some overdubs, keyboards, vocally things, Chinese burns, waterboarding, underarm farts, etc. Got what we needed to get done. Everyone was tired and cranky and in need of a rest so we went home to lay ourselves down in front of the fire and make sweet sweet love to ourselves.....or just watch sports and punch each other in the face. You choose. Bon nuit.

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