There is nothing more clichéd than announcing the year’s end with some idle reflection.
Please forgive what might seem like a decidedly hubristic outburst.
This time last year I had not stepped foot on a stage.
I had not even gone into a rehearsal studio.
Kites’ maiden performance would not be for another four months.
With foolish impunity we dived headlong into a creative venture that has been snowballing beyond the limits of our imagination. From purchasing a child’s keyboard on ebay, to handing a demo tape to Richard; from jamming with Taio in a garden shed, to recruiting young Jack; from the empty basements, to the throbbing clubs; Kites has been evolving at a tempo that would make Darwin’s blood curdle.
Needless to say, the road has been fraught with difficulties and impending failure. It still is.
If performing was simply a matter of donning an iridescent tail-coat and getting your teeth whitened, I would think that Kites would have completed their apprenticeship some time ago. Perhaps we would now be Christmas number 1. Alas, this is not reality television and we have been ruthlessly developing our repertoire.
To quote Morrissey, I don’t know how soon now is, but it feels pretty close.
