my music is now on iLicenseMusic

I have always had a lot of time for John Buckman, the man behind Magnatune so I am really happy to be getting involved in his newest venture, iLicenseMusic.

You can see my page on the site here – http://ilicensemusic.com/g/Alt%20Rock/Robin%20Grey …and yes, of course I am ‘alt-rock’ …how dare you suggest otherwise!

iLicenseMusic provides royalty free music can be reuse and distribute in pretty much any project. A £89 monthly fee gives complete access to the entire catalog, which seems like a good deal to me and John always makes sure a good chunk of that money gets to the creators and musicians.

 

more than today

Have just had a really fun 24hrs in my studio surrounded by all of my favourite microphones and instruments! I hope you enjoy this shiny new track.

How many songs have these worn heart strings still got left?
I awoke this morning off key and quite bereft but well
My pen it is still willing and the paper it receives.
We caught up with the moorhen and we joked about our dreams.

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, dear you’d better stay;
I couldn’t care about you any more than I do now today.

Patience is a virtue, good things come to those who wait;
But who will be the judge of when the hour is getting late?
And anyway there is that other one about fish and the sea!
Pick you cliche, start the clock, compare notes over tea.

Spring it turns to summer, just as night it turns to day.
When in the autumn of our years will we opine away about
How foolish and how young we were, how little we all knew.
I love all my mistakes and well this heart it still beats true.

Actions speak louder than words but what about a song?
A most prolific muse you’ve been, I’ve toiled here late and
Long into the night, trying to make sense of all these things and more;
Like why I feel the way I do when you walk through the door.

My pen it has momentum but the day waits for no man.
There are so many things I know I’ll never understand
I’ll be here in September for the rest I cannot say.
I’m sure of change, death and taxes, sunshine and of rain.

mariam’s cake

I just had a request from a fella in Venezuela for the lyrics to Mariam’s Cake so I thought I might pop them up here for one and all…

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Meadowlark, shouldn’t you fly somewhere warmer, my dear?
Let’s go outside holding hands.
Meadowlark, you know this is my favourite time of the year.
Let’s go outside holding hands.

Enter the day, I just arrived so I’ll take my time.
Hour by hour we see that there is no hurry, we take our time.

Meadowlark, I checked in the book and it’s not what it seems.
Let’s go outside holding hands.
Hey what’s up trees? Who gave your orders to drop all those leaves?
Well I you must, I suppose.

Ever since the day we fell up to stand down, there were mice in the aisles dressed in frocks and in gowns.
I won’t tell you its likely, you won’t tell me the news so we stand here in the dirt getting puddles in our shoes
Wondering why.

You call the number and I count the cost but although we’re a good team something has been lost
‘Cause it’s not been the same since the mice moved upstairs,
dreams of Mariam’s cake go down well with sancerre… Wondering why?

the hackney gentrification song

You know this place it means the world to me.
Knock it down build flats knock it down.
The first place I really felt home in London.
Now my life is in bags and my heart’s on my sleeve
And there’s so many memories I’d rather not leave.

When I moved here ‘The Four Aces’ club still stood proud
And ‘The Vortex’ on Church Street was in with the crowd.
Now ‘The George‘ is up next and my dear studio
And Vogue says that Hackney’s the in place to go.

Tesco’s are popping up like unwelcome weeds
And they just put a pound on the price of a pide.
The places we used to shoot pool: they’re all gone.
Whilst the prostitutes, pimps and drug dealers look on.

Louisa Jones on accordion

learning to write poetry

Robin's first attempts at iambic pentameter

On a quest to develop my creative writing skills I have just discovered that I know nothing about the technical fundamentals of writing poetry. My bad, as the kids seem wont to say.

I have been lent an amazing book to help deflower my poetic innocence titled ‘The Ode Lesson Travelled‘. It is written by Mr Stephen Fry, a hero of mine who once promised me tea and cake in a letter but this never materialised due to his busy filming schedule!

…anyways, I have been having so much fun learning about iambic pentameter, enjambment and caesura I thought I might share some of my early efforts with the world!

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Removed from industry, the morning came
So silently my heart began to sing.

My marmite chops, already serviced by
The toasters toil, retired back upstairs.

Awake! Awake! Awake! Tell me what dreams
Do stir this soul away from sacred sleep?

At peace; the lists exhausted; now to my pen
I will go swiftly till we are found out.

Wanting for nothing, apart from another
warm body to hold this body to theirs.

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There we go, that was painless… now for chapter four.