manaccan by sonja berlin-jones

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MONDAY 3 DECEMBER

Thank you again and you know how musicians are total crap at knowing which bits of their music are good. You tell them that some simple little track on a b-side is beautiful but all they want to do is play you some horrible improv-opera that they've been working on for ten decades and which will be laffed at at their funeral. I don't much care for this track.

But maybe that means it is brilliant. Maybe this will be the breakthrough. Oooh please, this time, let it be this time. Manaccan is the place in Cornwall where I last had a holiday. Cornwall works a spell that more-remote and more-romantic and more-beautiful places can't touch.

I think it's the way you go long distance through these tunnel-like lanes and then at a bend the road suddenly falls away and there is the sea and the special kind of seaside-sky and the small clouds. Manaccan is suspiciously simple - I doubt people will trust it - they'll feel its beauty and how instant it is. But their head will warn them that this can't be proper music & I can't be a proper musician - not yet - but I think I am getting there.

nothing is distorted, nothing is wrong