I had decided well before it all kicked off (ahem) that I wouldn’t be watching the World Cup matches this year.  In fact, I could have told you that this time last year.  It’s not that I despise my country, it’s not that want to bring down popular culture, I just have absolutely no interest in football.  However, much to my disappointment, the footie is somewhat unavoidable.  It’s on the news.  It’s in my RSS feeds.  It’s being talked about in church during communion.  And it’s on Twitter.

On that note, I was mildly amused (and at the same time mildly annoyed) by a couple of friends giving a running commentary on Twitter as the most recent England match was being played.  I wondered who exactly those tweets were for the benefit of.  If I had actually been interested in the football, I would have been watching, and wouldn’t have needed the commentary.  As it is, I chose not to watch the football, because I’m not interested.  So you give me a running commentary anyway.  Is there no escape??

As it happens, my natural tendency to shun all popular sports stems from years of denial, conscious and sub-conscious decisions not to follow the crowd, and embarrassment.

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This isn't actually the car in question, but it's almost identical.

Astute readers will recall that on Saturday I went to see a Zafira, which I had decided was the next type of car we needed.  It’s a logical progression really.  The first car I owned was a Ford Fiesta.  I wanted a Mini, but I was fresh out of uni and couldn’t afford one, so I settled for a Fiesta instead.  Then, when business had picked up, I bought a Mini, and thoroughly enjoyed my little pocket rocket.  Then I got married, and was suddenly doing a lot of miles, and the Mini started seeming smaller and smaller the more we packed into the boot.  And then we decided to have a baby, and a Mini just wasn’t practical any more, so we moved into small family saloon territory with a conservative Ford Escort.  Now, as an established family and all the baggage that brings with it, we are in need of a ‘proper’ family car, a seven-seater.  Hence the Zafira.

After Saturday’s disappointment, we were keen to get out there and see something else.  If nothing else, it would be good to be able to make a direct comparison.  And hope that the car we had dismissed at the weekend didn’t turn out to be a bargain.  So this afternoon I skipped work and we all drove out to Westbury to see another Zafira.  Same listed price as the other one, same 1.6 engine, roughly the same spec, also from a dealership rather than private, but slightly lower mileage.  And, as it happens, we rather liked what we saw.

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A Citroen 2CV. Another example of a car I didn't buy today.

As many of you will probably know, I’m a bit of a Mini fanatic.  My darling Lulu, the little red Mini City I learnt to drive in, was an inspiration.  Neddy, the little blue Mini Sidewalk, was a joy.  Sad was the day when I said good bye to the days of carefree invigorating driving and welcomed in a life of staid normality in the form of a Ford Escort.  Yes, it was more practical, but it lacked all the ‘fun’ qualities I had grown used to.  Now, only a year or two later, the time has come for the next step in the process – I’m buying a people carrier.

Before I cower behind my desk chair against the onslaught of abuse, allow me to explain the logic behind this overly ‘grown-up’ proposition.  We have a baby.  I have lots of instruments.  We go places with both.  Our trusty Ford Escort, which has a truly monumental boot capacity compared to the Mini, is now on the verge of being too small to cope with our many belongings.  It’s also beginning to show its age, with rusty patches on some of the exterior panels.  The logic says that if we buy a slightly more expensive car (though still second hand) it should last us slightly longer, and buying a 7-seater will give us more space to carry people and stuff around.

Our vehicle of choice?  The most popular small 7-seater around.  The MPV that launched touting the most revolutionary seating system the world had ever seen.  The people carrier that has become ubiquitous for small families.  The Vauxhall Zafira.

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Today was the last day of recording.  I methodically went through each song, checking to see whether there was anything else that needed recording or re-recording, and generally listening to the result of my hard work this past week.  I re-did the vocal part for Jesus your name is higher, and put some solo guitar bits into Father God you reign – that was the hardest part actually, since solo electric guitar is arguably the musical discipline I’m least proficient at, that being the most recent string added to my already-brimming bow.  As a result, I had to do a lot of practice to get a solo riff I was happy with, and even then it took at least 4 takes to get a clean recording of it.  A little frustrating, to be honest, and clearly the area I need to work on most.

Once that was done, it was time to pack up camp.  To start with, everything was unplugged.  Then cables were coiled and separated into groups depending on which part of the house they needed to end up in.  Then the computer was taken upstairs, followed by all its related peripherals and cabling.  The guitars and keyboard were put back in their corner, in cases where appropriate.  The microphone was put back in its case, the pre-amp was put back in its bag, and all the remaining cables put back in their respective homes.

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First up today was the re-recording of Father God you reign, which actually appeared on the Rooted album In the beginning.  I remember being pretty pleased with the original recording back when I did it, but the more I listened to it the more I thought there was more that could have be done with it.  It needed to be louder.  It needed to be more rocky.  It needed better electric guitar sounds.  It needed better guitar solos.  So I decided to re-record the song from scratch to appear on this album as well.

I started off with a drum track, using drum loops, and then added guitars, bass and vocals.  I’ve given it a slightly edgier feel, and hopefully a more mature interpretation too.  It took a while to get right though.  A younger version of myself would have dismissed most rock music as being unsophisticated and requiring very little intelligence – after all, it’s just a case of turning the guitars up too loud and playing three chords…  But I’ve learnt in recent years that there is a definite art to creating a convincing ‘rock’ sound, and getting just the right sound from the guitar and amp combination is tricky stuff.  And of course if you then add in complex guitar solos as well, you can take it to a whole new level again.

Now, I’m not saying that my recording of Father God you reign would compare to a version recorded by Brian May, for instance, but it is pretty rocky, and I reckon it’s much better than the version I did for the Rooted album.  We’ll see once it’s been edited.

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