The Making of "Someone Else's Home"

So here I sit, with a new EP full of six new tunes. Any regular readers of this blog will know how difficult the process of making a record can be when you’re trying to juggle work, home, other people’s schedules and your own sanity. With this in mind, to get anything to its finishing point is not to be sniffed at and is a genuine achievement.

The writing process for this record has been genuinely more enjoyable than ever before, largely because I hadn’t set myself any really solid targets to hit in terms of time scale. I also had given up on the idea of trying to write anything that was even slightly radio friendly and instead concentrate on some fairly delicate acoustic folk-pop tunes. The process did take a long time. ‘Make You Smile’ had been written almost three years ago and was the song that gave me the impetus to want to record a new set of songs. I always envisaged it to be the opener, but things change. I bought a half-capo, which, as the name suggests, covers half the guitar strings on my Taylor and had really enjoyed the different areas that that opened up for me. As often happens, the chorus melody came first and it was just a case of working out what the song was about. After it had percolated for a while I started to get ideas. At the time, me and my now, wife, were going through counselling before we got married as a kind of precaution. We both found this experience very helpful, however, I did tend to spend a lot of the time making rubbish jokes and mucking about to try to lighten up the mood a bit. There is a fuller explanation about this and all the songs on the record on the ‘Music’ section of my website http://www.ricneale.co.uk/

Next up was ‘What Would Be Left?’ and ‘Stop Holdin on’ both of which were written in the same couple of days along with another song ‘Halfway House’, which very nearly made it into the last line up of the EP but was deemed ‘not good enough’ by everyone. It will probably be available as a free download from the site at some point. I often have weeks like that – where I just write and write – it’s a good feeling to have a few tunes on the go at the same time and to just concentrate on them bit by bit – when you get bored (or stuck) on one you can just move on to the next. There were other songs from this week which didn’t even get as far as the band, but as always I will be stealing ideas from them for later tunes.

The title track ‘Someone Else’s home’ was written around this time although I don’t actually remember when. The chord progression and the concept (of comparing a house to a heart) had been kicking around since I was on honeymoon, but I don’t remember ever sitting down to finish it – evidently I did at some point or another. I really liked the title to this song which is why it ultimately became the title for the whole EP.

At this point I stopped writing thinking that I had enough tunes and we began to record. Some time ago I had the idea of recording a group of songs in a much more acoustic fashion to reflect the way that me and the band had been playing in the previous year or so. I had the initial idea of doing it very lo-fi, doing it at my house in a really organic way. This idea, as many other ideas do, failed. We even got as far as scheduling it in but people’s calendars didn’t add up so we had to change tack. We took the tunes that we had written into Diamond Studios in Wakefield with my friend and collaborator Will Richards. We decided to record in a different way than usual. Normally we would do drums then overdub everything bit by bit. We felt that this would take away any live feel that we had in rehearsal so we recorded with all four of us playing at the same time (me on guitar, Ivan on drums/percussion, Spence on bass and Stu on guitar) we would then overdub another live performance over the top (for example, me on mandolin, Ivan on cajon, Spence on glock and Stu on elec guitar) and put the two performances on top of one another. We really enjoyed this way of working, it gave us the opportunity to have multi-layered sounds, but did not take away from the live feel we wanted.
So now we had 5 tunes and a whole EP – or did we…? I had been asked to contribute a song to a project being put together by artist, Joe Simpson. The idea was that he would do twelve paintings that would tell a rough story, he would then give each painting to a different musician to write a song for. I started work on the song that would become the opening track of the EP “Dotted Line”. As soon as the feel and lyrics came together I knew that it would be a perfect addition to the record. Writing the lyrics to this tune was really hard, I had to try and cobble a story from a very small amount of information given to me by the picture itself. I thought that the character looked scared, but hopeful, so wrote a lyric that matched that mood. Being that we were going back into the studio I thought it might be worth writing another song to work on alongside and so “Pleading” was born. This song fits arguably better with the work on the previous two albums but thought that the performances were so great that it would fit on the EP. The song is much more vague in story and more complex in harmony than the other tunes but works almost entirely because of the live feel we managed to create. I asked my friend Missy Claughan to play cello on these two tracks and really enjoyed scoring out some counter melodies – I don’t think I’d done that since my big band days.

The songs were all mixed together, then mastered and we decided to ditch “Halfway House” as it threw the balance of the other songs out a bit. At some point along this process I started to think about artwork. I decided to ask my friend Ali Rowe to get involved; I knew I wanted the artwork to continue the ‘unfinished’ quality that we’d achieved in the music. We struck on the idea of the squiggly lines. Basically, each song has its own line and the front cover is the six lines all intersecting. I was well pleased with how it ended up.

This process all in all took about a year and a half and required the skills of a great many individuals. I genuinely hope that you enjoy the music that we’ve made for you.

Vibrations Magazine feature

I was asked to write a feature in March's Vibrations Magazine about how many Rock 'n' Roll cliches I'd fallen fowl of. Here's what I wrote;

Have you ever graffiti'd your own name/band logo anywhere?

I'd have to be pretty foolish to start scratching my band name all over venues as it is also my actual name; it's a bit too easy to see who did it. Also, whenever you see bloke's names written on pub walls they're usually followed by phone numbers and offers of blow jobs – which is not really what im trying to achieve.

Have you ever lost a band member after a fight?

Everyone involved in the Ric Neale musical universe is a lover not a fighter.

Has a rock-related injury ever prevented you from doing a gig?

I once slammed my hand in a car door and one of the fingers on my left hand swelled to the size of a piano – this made my guitar playing even worse than usual so I had to get a guy to dep for a while. I got very good at playing the accordion with one hand though.

Have you ever stolen another act's rider?

I supported the Bay City Rollers once. They weren't very nice to us so we stole their Pringles – instant karma.

Have you ever played to less people than are in the band?

A large percentage of the gigs I've done have been solo, so it'd be pretty damning if not even one person turned up. I'm safe in the knowledge that there are usually bar staff and bouncers to push the ratio in my favour.

Have you ever fired a band member half way through a tour?

Even if I had I couldn't tell you - What happens on the road stays on the road.

Has anyone ever been allowed into the band purely because they have transport?

We don't need transport; if we can't carry it on the train we don't carry it at all. No amps, no drum kits - One of the many benefits of acoustic music.

Have you ever thrown anything out of a hotel window?

No, but I always nick the sewing kit.

Have you ever given a demo to someone famous?

I played guitar for Jason Donovan for a while and he was interested in my stuff. I offered to give him an album but he demanded to pay, which was an impressive gesture considering how much he was paying me to play Stock, Aitken and Waterman songs to deluded housewives.

Have you ever used your position as a musician to blag something audacious?

I'm not much of a lothario, but I've enjoyed the company of some fine lookin' ladies who wouldn't have given me a second look if I was a web designer.

The new album... The story so far

Anyone who read the blog about the making of the last album will know that it was not an entirely pleasant process. This time around I wanted to change everything. I now had an ace band to use which meant we could do things live, rather than overdubbing which would speed the process up no end. I've also been listening to a lot more acoustic music (Gillian Welch, Philip Roebuck, the Jayhawks to name but a few) all of which is recorded pretty much live, in a room with a few mics kicking around. As well as this, my dealings with the Edible Doormouse proved how quickly this kind of music can be thrown together, and how much fun it can be.

This next project was to be recorded live at my house in one weekend. Ambitious but a bit of a laugh.

First job was to write some tunes, a process which, for the first time in ages, I really enjoyed. Every day I got up played my guitar, made copious notes then went up to a pub called 'The Navigation' and sat by the canal with a pint writing lyrics. It was great to be able to put some proper time into writing as it had been ages. The nature of the material was much more fluid and simple as I knew we would be doing it very quickly. I often try to over-think things and this was a great way of getting out of that habit.

After a week of writing I went into the studio with my friend Will and did a load of demo's. I played all the instruments and it was very loose. The demos were just to give the band an idea of the tunes so they wouldn't be coming to them cold on the weekend of recording. I was really pleased with how the songs turned out and the guys really liked them. You can download one of these demos 'What would be left' from the 'Miscellaneous recordings' section on the 'Music' page of the website http://www.ricneale.co.uk/

We picked a couple to work on for a gig we did at the 'Fox n Newt' in Leeds. both of which worked a treat to say the least. The guys brought their own ideas to the material and it was really interesting working so quickly. I thought the new tunes were the best of the night which bolstered me to keep writing and demoing even more.

The weekend deadline came around and all was in place for a fruitful few days. However, Stu was called away for the weekend on a work emergency so all was cancelled. We were all gutted, most of all Stu, as we were all well up for getting the tunes down. Me and Spence coped admirably with the new found free time, going round Leeds getting drunk and playing pool (which I won) and talking shit (which was a draw).

We've not yet had chance to re schedule the recording due to being as busy as we all are. but the tunes are sounding lovely and it won't be long... I promise... Haven't we heard this somewhere before...?

Second Wind

Whilst in the middle of writing songs for the new album I was offered the opportunity by my friend Jamie to get into the studio and do a shit hot recording of a tune. Jamie was doing an MA and wanted something for his portfolio so I knew that he'd want something quite smooth and AOR sounding. The problem was that this didn't really fit in with the stuff I was writing for the new record which was largely acoustic (more on that later). That said, I really wanted to take him up on the offer as I'd not done any new recordings with the new band and it would be a good bit of practice.

Second Wind was a musical idea that I'd had some time before and the pre chorus key change is from ages ago but i hadn't found the right way to use it. The rest pretty much fell into place quickly - it was not difficult to write a lyric about busy I've been, in fact it was complete in one sitting. Musically it's very similar to the stuff on the first album with it's ultra short verses (don't bore us get to the chorus...) and modulating pre chorus leading to a harmony laden hook line. the middle section is very similar to the writing on "Seemed like a good idea at the time", in fact the first half of it is very similar to 'Give myself to you', but there's no harm in stealing from yourself.

I went and did a rough demo version at Jamie's which i sent to the band all of whom seemed to like it very much. It was suggested that it sounded like it should be in a Rocky montage but what the hey...

we recorded it in two sessions at the studio; Ivan on drums for the first session, Stu and Spence came in for the second. Jamie did the mix himself and did a pretty fine job of it. something about the tune doesn't quite add up for me, but you can be the judge.

Download it for free from the 'miscellaneous recordings' section on the 'music' page of my website. www.ricneale.co.uk

Seemed like a good idea at the time - an apology

When I was a kid my parents kept all of the family photos in a big drawer in the lounge. As well as the usual holiday snaps and pictures of me and my sister in infant school performances and sporting events, there were photos from when they first met, as well as some very old, decaying pictures of their respective families at pivotal moments from their lives – Strangers throwing confetti over couples that must have become grandparents long ago, people posing on rowing boats or standing proudly outside old fashioned shops displaying their old fashioned wares. There must have been about 100 years worth of history chronicled in that drawer. From time to time when we were kids, Sis and I would look through all of these photos, maybe to remind ourselves of summer holidays past, or maybe to catch a glimpse of something unexpected in photos from before our time, but something about them always troubled me, and it still does…

After I finished making my first album “Ric Neale hasn’t heard of you either”, I did gigs on my own pretty much everywhere I could and slowly but surely I started working my way up the bill and getting to play at nicer venues and with time found other musicians who wanted to play along. This was a gradual but gratifying process which enabled me to do what I had always wanted to – do really good live shows and use my songs as a way to engage with audiences. I was never that bothered about recording, I never really have been to be honest; it always seemed like a means to an end.

For those people not lucky enough to have been to a recording studio and might think it a hugely glamorous experience with cocaine and groupies as far as the eye can see it is necessary to point out that studios are sweaty places where time disappears down a vast chasm. They are usually incredibly uncreative places that smell a bit like old pizza and stale fag smoke. Music venues on the other hand are usually filled with people who are looking to have a good time, there’s usually beer which I rarely need to pay for and an audience who, if you show them respect and a bit of craftsmanship are up for a nice chat afterwards. There is also the constant opportunity for ‘magic’ to happen – that moment when the audience is completely yours for three and a half minutes or when the vibe is shared rather than forced. There is however, rarely ‘magic’ in the studio.

So when, at a gig I was doing down in Cambridge, two people came up to see me demanding a follow up album (yeah, I know I was shocked as well) I was somewhat torn. The fact that these two people were rather attractive young ladies made the decision even harder. I told myself that an album was not necessary that some little acoustic EP was a better idea, “it could just be vocals and guitar” I exclaimed, “it wont take long, and anyway, then there’ll be more songs for me to add to the live shows and that would be great” – if only I’d listened.

Not long after this I was gigging in Leeds and got chatting to a guy named Brad, he was a good laugh and clearly knew a lot about music (he was a sound engineer) anyway we got drunk and decided to record some songs together. Brad did a lot of work at a studio over in Bradford and said that we could do it there as he was good mates with the owner. I had a few songs already written so we’d go in to do the drums and bass at the studio and than do all the overdubs at Craig’s house (he was playing bass for me at the time) – so off we went.

And so began a process that took almost two full years…

The reason the photos bothered me was that they were in no particular order, haphazardly strewn across the bottom of the drawer with no thought for chronology or theme. Some where still in the wallet that they came in but you’d be hard pressed to get through a full pack without finding at least two or three that shouldn’t be there - a holiday in Mallorca when I was five would be interrupted by my sisters choir tour in Germany about ten years later, then a picture of my dad at some works party with flares on that would make Shaft blush, before we return to sunny Spain.

“So now we have the backing tracks for four songs we may as well do some more…?” we said. So I started writing some more tunes, which was a very enjoyable way to spend some time and now and again Brad and I would return to the studio in Bradford. As time went on we used other musicians less and less and I started to do more and more. With the aid of modern technology everything could be looped and cut and pasted beyond recognition.

Anyway, at some point throughout this process things started to go a bit wrong – in fact there was a period during the recording when both me and Brad were in therapy at the same time due to a number of complex things involving failed relationships, dead friends, and addiction (in no particular order). We were, quite simply, a mess. We were also drunk on the amount of time we had in the studio and developed the musical equivalent of dartitis – we couldn’t see when things were finished and spent all our time in the studio tidying bits of music into the boxes where we thought they should be – trying to bring order to the chaos that was going on in and out of the studio. Sometimes that worked in our favour, songs like ‘Free’ and ‘I Said’ were very much based on this patchwork approach and wouldn’t have existed without it. However, simple songs like ‘Share This Weight’ were made incredibly complicated. I remember recording ‘Lend Me Your Ears’ in one take and us having no idea what to do with ourselves – there was nothing to tinker with.

It’s also worth remembering that Brad and I were actually working throughout this whole time so we could only get to the studio maybe once a fortnight which added real pressure. Also, everyone kept asking where the album was, and when it would be finished – it became something of a running joke between a number of people. Everything seemed to be against us. Hilariously, when we went to get it mastered the studio was struck by lightning and all the work we had done that day was lost.

Slowly but surely as our mental health improved so did our work in the studio. This meant that we had to re do a lot of things that we had thought were finished. There was a particularly agonising period when we had to re record the drums from the very first recording session because they didn’t sound right; it felt a bit like painting the Severn Bridge. But bit by bit it started to take shape, and every time we drove away from the studio we had more things actually in the can and it felt good. I remember ‘I Don’t Wanna’ being a particularly difficult tune to get right – there were so many fiddly bits in it and I knew that it’d be the closing track – it seemed to be about a character that created his own unsolvable problems and didn’t know what his future held. These themes were a massive part of the recording, and served as a fitting end.

The name ‘Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time’ was a bit of a catchphrase in our house and was often quoted by my friend Nobby to whom the album is dedicated. He committed suicide halfway through making the album in some fairly horrific circumstances leaving a wife and son behind, not to mention a fairly devastated community of friends that crumpled under the weight of mourning. Brad and I were both keen to commemorate him in the title of the album as a lot of the lyrical themes (escape, family, relationships, communication and friendship) were all brought into pretty sharp focus when he went. Once that concept was in place I came up with the concept of light bulbs (to show ‘ideas’) and contacted my friend Joe Simpson. He is a brilliant artist (go to

www.joe-simpson.co.uk for proof). I had done a couple of dreadful sketches of how I wanted the photos to look and knew that I wanted to do them in ‘Mook’ the bar in Leeds, famous for the amount of light bulbs there are above the bar. Joe did a great job on the photos and my friend Ben Brown and I did the design stuff.


Every time I return to visit my parents there is a pretty huge urge to wrestle the photo drawer away from them and put everything in some kind of order. One day of course these photos will belong to me and my sister and it’ll be our job to decide how to preserve this scrambled legacy. I can’t help thinking that we will be pretty keen on scanning them all onto our computers to store in whatever order we choose. To be preserved and emailed and cropped and re coloured and added to the digital histories that we have amassed in our own lives.

Finally, the album got back from the printers and me and Brad were pleased as punch with it. We put on a big launch night at the Lounge in Leeds and it was a great celebration of a lot of effort finally coming to fruition. It was great to see people getting copies of the new album and a few of them even said that it had been worth waiting for.

As the album was finished many external things started to take shape. It’s hard to find an upside to the loss of friend, but Nobby’s death made everyone question their place in the world and take a bit more responsibility for themselves – it strengthened all the links in the chain and made it stronger as a whole. The failed relationship that plagues the lyrics to this album got back on track – in fact I’m getting married this summer, and Brad has since moved to New Zealand and is doing very well for himself as a sound engineer over there – I am very proud of him.

But really, what’s the point? Why put things in order anyway? I’d rather not know what I’m getting when I pull my hand out of the photo drawer. It can be tempting to make everything ‘make sense’ but there’s not much sense to life – there’s not much ‘order’ in death – and a ‘cut’ and ‘pasted’ relationship would be boring as hell. Sometimes it’s better to leave things where they fall.

This Much I know

I was asked to do this for my mates website. it is an homage/rip off of the item in the Observer.

Don't believe everything you read.

Music is the bollocks - I mean it's fucking awesome on so many levels. It's great to listen to, and to make, and to share with friends. It's my favourite thing.

I like to make lists, they organise my head. It makes me realise that there isn't much I do that I don't try to apply some kind of system to - communication, songwriting, football, anything. Without a system in place I don't know how to get better at stuff - I like getting better at stuff.

It makes me sad that we live in a society where people mistake kindness for weakness.

Public transport is ace. It gives me time to listen to music, read, write lyrics and meet interesting people. You should'nt be put off by the fact it usually smells of piss.

I love the plants I grow in my bedroom. They aren't anything flash, just some herbs and a couple of spider plants but we need each other.

Ringtones prove that human kind is fucked.

I have lots of good friends all over the place. It's nice to know I need never drink alone. Having friends is like being able to play a musical instrument - people think I'm lucky, but it takes time, effort and respect, not magic.

I like dogs. I especially like dogs that look like they have eyebrows. I don't know why, but they make me laugh out loud until I cry.

The way we conduct ourselves is the only legacy that we leave. I see so many people treating the things they care about without any respect - relationships, work, creativity, even just getting on the bus. All of it leaves a mark on the world we live in, that's important.

Don't make promises to yourself that you can't keep.

Sometimes you meet people who really impress you. They seem comfortable in thier own skin, they seem to have made friends with themselves. This seems to help them inspire people and to make their corner of the world a little brighter. I'd like to be like that