Our new single, Centripetal, is out now! Streaming in all the usual places, and also over at Bandcamp – more on the backstory soon x
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A Statement RE: Live Shows.
It’s with enormous sadness that I am announcing an indefinite hiatus from live shows with immediate effect. Playing gigs has slowly pushed me to a place of facing significant health issues, both physical and mental. I’m sorry to say that means the cancellation of all shows this year. Scheduled talks and conference appearances will go ahead as planned; for reasons that will make more sense later, “proper” gigs are not possible any time soon. It’s obviously one of the toughest calls I’ve ever made.
I will soon share in more detail what is happening because it may help others; a good friend very wisely advised me to wait a beat before I disclose more. There’s some stigma attached to the issues I’m dealing with, and I need to think about that. I also want to be open and honest as so many in my audience face disabling barriers and mental health challenges. I just need to wrap my head around a few things first, and have some time to heal physically and mentally.
Love to everyone who has been with me through this journey, you know who you are x
See you down the front one day, I’ll be fitter, healthier and happier when the day comes x
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Our First Legit Composer Commission!
Yeah. You read that right. Early this year we were approached by Propel Dance, the UK’s first all wheelchair-rider dance about their forthcoming production of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen. They are, conveniently enough, based in the Midlands, needed a composer, wanted to employ a Disabled artist… those roads lead inevitably to me.
Okay, I’m being overly modest – they also liked our music. My schedule has been wild this year, but I really wanted to do it. So I’m doing it.
I’ve been working away on it for a while now; I’ve done bits in the past, but I’ve never composed this much music for a client. It’s daunting/exciting in equal measure.
I’ll talk more about the process and showing my workings later – I really want to wait until it’s out there before I do that – for now here’s just a sneak peak of rehearsals:
It’s touring the Midlands over the coming weeks; head to Propel Dance’s Website for dates and tix.
Hope to see you at a show -it’s a magical thing x
Image Credit: Propel Dance
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AI Songwriting: The Medical Model Edition.
I asked an AI to write a song about Disability. It’s very medical model. It’s belly is full of inspiration porn. Make of it what you will.
Sure, here is a short song about disability:
Verse 1: I am who I am, I am strong I have a disability, but it doesn’t define me I won’t let it hold me back, I’ll keep moving forward I’ll make my own way, and pave a path that’s mine
Chorus: I am a person, just like you I have hopes and dreams, and things I want to do My disability is a part of me, but it doesn’t control me I am a person, and I will be free
Verse 2: I’ll face each day with courage and grace I’ll stand tall and proud, and show the world my face I’ll overcome the challenges that come my way And show the world that I am more than my disability
Chorus: I am a person, just like you I have hopes and dreams, and things I want to do My disability is a part of me, but it doesn’t control me I am a person, and I will be free
Bridge: I am strong, and I am capable I won’t let my disability hold me back I’ll keep moving forward, and make my own way I am a person, and I will be free.
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Back To (Art) School.
So this is kind of a confession.
Not a lot of people know this, but I flunked music college. No, back it up. I didn’t flunk. There were lots of access barriers. I faced physical and mental barriers, and if I’m honest, I didn’t try to get the help I needed. Identity stuff. I didn’t want to be Disabled then. That was a loaded word at the time.
Whatever. Music education was not for me. The irony – I’m a full time musician and highly respected music educator – isn’t lost on me. I was the last person who was gonna make it from my college.
Where I really cut my teeth, and got where I am today, was in art college.
Reeling from having to drop music, I found myself on a franchise HND via Birmingham Institute of Art & Design. Visual Communication. This wasn’t Fine Art. This was modern, this was free thinking, and not reliant on technique.
I never considered myself to be a “real” mark-maker, partly because of my hand impairment. My partner, who I met in art college, is a ”real” artist. She can paint, draw, in that Fine Art discipline. I always used to say I just made a weird mess.
But I wasn’t making a weird mess. I was learning to think clearer and more creatively than I ever had before. I was exploring the moment. No, I can’t really paint technically – how could I ever with CP? – but I can learn, and think and exist in my abstract paintings.
And after several years of being too busy with music to do anything else, I’m back and enjoying painting again. I’m painting every day. Digitally mostly, but rediscovering my old love of acrylic on canvas. My daughter and I have a daily watercolour challenge. It’s helping me a lot.
Of course, the one piece of visual communication that many people know is the Tic Tac No. I started this in art college, and have slowly refined it as my brand, my trademark.
This represents a simply truth – there are things in life that we know are wrong, that are sold to us as being right. Injustice. Inequality. Even when what is right is there in plain sight, we don’t always acknowledge. The Tic Tac No is a reminder to go after the truth, to follow what you know is right. I have it tattooed, and people buy t-shirts with it on. It has a life of it’s own.
I found myself at art college, at a time when I was lost and confused about being a musician. I was at an all time low, musically. I built myself back up in the art studio. And now, after the most intense musical adventure of my life – touring all over the world with the gloves – I’m learning who I am now, in the brush strokes.
I’m not at rock bottom musically now, of course. I’ve enjoyed incredible success with the gloves and all they’ve given me. But I definitely feel a chapter drawing to an end, and for the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan. And it feels good.
I have big ideas about how to paint and bring what I’ve done musically together for the first time. There’s a physicality to playing the gloves that would be a powerful thing to explore visually – explicitly – can I paint music? What does painting sound like? Where do the gestures and visuals meet composition? All that stuff. Right now I’m not overthinking it.
I’m just in the moment, one brushstroke at a time.
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Nose Pressed Against The Canvas.
I’m trying to purify my relationship with music. It’s been a long road, and there’s some unhealthy stuff weaved in.
I identify with my work in a deep way. I am my work. That’s no boast. It’s actually quite unhealthy, I’m beginning to realise. I struggle to separate what I do from who I am. That’s an okay way to write songs, but it’s a difficult way to be a person.
Sometimes I feel like I have no idea who I am. I’m so wrapped up in the work. And it makes for what I think is called “emotional unavailability” – I’m not always much fun to be around. Le Sigh.
It’s startlingly obvious, but I have to remind myself that I am not my work. I made some music today purely for fun. That’s a big deal for me. Making music, simply to relax? What is that? It’s been a high stress process for many years.
It was always going to be this way. I’ve been leading from the cutting edge for years. And that’s what people know me for. The audience is expecting that – and luckily they’re there for me even when it doesn’t always work. As artistic work goes, travelling the world and betting E V E R Y T H I N G on prototype futuretech sci-fi aesthetic as a way of playing music… that qualifies as high stakes. It’s a tightrope act every time.
But it’s not me. I can give myself permission to enjoy it. I can put some space between me and the canvas. I don’t have to be smushed up against it.
Grateful for all of it. It’s a beautiful adventure. But I don’t always give myself the space to enjoy the view x
[The attached painting is part of a series of digital canvases I’ve been working on. Purely as downtime. A chance to be creative with no stakes. It’s how I’m finding the breathing space between me and my work. Just flowing. Not thinking. And relax…]
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I Was Wrong About The Gloves.
In my recent blog post, I spoke about a possible end to my performing with the gloves. It’s certainly true that I’ve had a difficult relationship with them at times. They empower me yes, but also are a constant reminder of what I can’t do. I still dream of guitar heroics and piano recitals. It’s complicated.
And yes, I’ve felt awkward on stage playing venues, regular gigs. But maybe that’s not about the gloves. Context is king.
I struggle, like most musicians I know do, to engage with the music industry. Touring. Streaming. Worrying about spotify numbers. Ticket sales. It’s nothing new to say that it’s demoralising at times.
Meanwhile, there are spaces where my art is recognised. The spaces of academia, science and technology are hugely welcoming to me. I do loads of work across the music education sector. Academics regularly quote and champion me. I am having exciting conversations with tech brands. My original pair of gloves are on display in a museum(!) – all amazing things that form a rewarding, sustainable career. And in these spaces, playing the gloves feels special.
But insecurities win out, and I worry about my low radio plays. And I play gigs in places that I feel like I should play because music industry; but they’re places I don’t feel I belong.
Meanwhile, see above. There are many welcoming spaces, and I’m very fortunate to have those.
Maybe it’s not the gloves. Yes, I would like a simpler relationship with my songs, with less technological hoops to jump, but that may just be part of the ongoing quest. Maybe there’s ways of accessing music I am yet to even imagine. Maybe there’s a way back to the basics. Maybe there just isn’t a neat solution. Maybe the struggle, the questions, maybe that’s the real art.
That doesn’t take away from the magic of the gloves.
Context is king.
There are many wonderful spaces where my work makes perfect sense. Maybe the music industry just isn’t one of them. And maybe that’s okay.
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On The Future Of The Gloves + Me.
Last week I played my last show of what has been a strange run of gigs for me, post COVID. It was in Birmingham, my home town of sorts, and a place I’ve hardly played. It’s been a running joke in the Dyskinetic camp that I’ve performed for more audiences in Tokyo than in my home town. What even is that?
As I wrap up this Two Metres Close tour for 2021/22, I’m reflecting on all that I’ve done with the gloves since 2015. It’s A LOT. 10 countries and counting. Tens of thousands of people in audience attendance by now. Loads of bucket list stuff ticked off. It’s been an adventure.
In terms of the work, it’s been a varied mix of what I call TED Talk style gigs, and straight up playing a set of songs type gigs. One of these fills my cup with joy, as my fiancée would say. The other, less so.
A shot of me onstage at the Brudenell Social Club, where the Two Metres Close tour began in 2021. Playing gig-type-gigs in venues, with a songs in a setlist, that’s always been tough. Where the gloves are roughly analogous to an acoustic guitar, with me singing my songs and playing the gloves as accompaniment to my voice, is a space I’m less sure of. I started playing gig-type-gigs in 2016, as part of my IVW tour, produced in partnership with Attitude Is Everything. It was a brave, complex thing to do in 2016. It doesn’t feel that way to 2022 me.
For lots of small reasons, it feels like a chapter closing on my relationship with the gloves. I wanted a challenge, and I got one. Wow. I’m proud of where I’ve taken my musicianship with the gloves. It’s a short list, but I know I’m one of the best Glovers in the world. I’ve taken it to virtuosic heights. And I’ll keep doing that.
It’s as a songwriter that I’m no longer happy with playing the gloves. In a hourish long set, the gloves start to get in the way. Trying to justify their presence in every song sometimes feels forced, and the physicality of playing them while singing does very literally get in the way. The instrument is overshadowing the songs, and that should never be the case. Writing music, instrumental music, for the gloves is a great joy, and pieces like Koi No Yokan will always be a joy to play. But when it’s time to sing a song, the gloves are in the way.
This was all a grand experiment. And it worked. I tested it. I tested it so thoroughly. And I’ve come to the conclusion that as a singer-songwriter, the gloves are not where 2022 me is at.
At the time of writing, I don’t know what gigs will look like moving forward. That’s really exciting. It’s not that I won’t play the gloves at all, but they wont be the sole focus, the only instrument. Of course, I still face disabling barriers, so there’s lot’s to explore in terms of how the show will actually work. I have plenty of ideas. We’ll see.
Important clarification: this isn’t the end of gloves + me, full stop. If I’m due to speak and perform at your event, I’ll be there! The wider impact of those Music Mark type keynote speeches is massive, and I have no plans to stop doing those. The gloves might be the greatest advert for justifying tackling disabling barriers in music making, and that sermon is far from over. But playing a 1 hour+ set of all Glove songs, that’s coming to an end for now. I have tour plans in 2023, and those shows will of course go ahead, but they will look and sound very different. They won’t hinge on the gloves. I’ll be getting back to where it all started, with songs. I just have to figure out what that looks like for me now.
It’s time to do something different. I’m ready. The Gloves are off.
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McCartney IV
McCartney IV is really a song about owning up to the ways you’ve hurt people, and recognising that love is more important than anything else. It’s a love song. I think it’s silly. And very serious. And hopefully romantic. People tell me they like it. Of course, the influence of a Beatle is worn on it’s sleeve (literally).
I wrote it on a ukulele, an instrument I know almost nothing about. I do a lot of inclusive music workshops for disadvantaged and Disabled kids, and there’s always a ton of ukuleles in the music cupboard. Figured I’d better have a go.
I’m mostly known for playing the MiMu Gloves, so it’s a bit scary and exciting to do something without them, and on an instrument I don’t know how to play even. It’s new and strange to do something gentle and nothing like the big loud noise I make with the gloves.
People tell me it helps them. That it’s optimistic. I think so. I think it’s a song with a purpose.
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Tesla Wankers.
There’s a curious attitude around early adopters of seemingly any technology, at least in the UK.
It used to be iPhone Wankers. At the moment, it’s Tesla Wankers. This country loves to hate on early adopters.
I know about being an early adopter. I was within the first 15 people ever to own a pair of MiMu Gloves. I had a Mac before Macs were even a thing most people knew about (G5 PowerPC for those wondering).
We don’t trust really adoption. That’s a good thing for many – most people don’t want to try the latest thing. But we don’t trust people who are ready to try the next big tech.
There’s lots of arguments in favour of waiting for technology to mature (I remember only too well how underwhelmed I was with the first Apple Watch) but tech needs early adopters. Someone has to use it when it’s new.
Maybe it’s a British thing. Owning the latest whatever is seen as a flex, and British people hate flexes.
It’s not a character flaw. The anger I hear about Tesla drivers at this point would make you think it is. There’ll be another technology to get annoyed about coming along momentarily.
FWIW: No, I don’t drive a Tesla. I don’t even have an opinion on Tesla. But I do have an opinion on newness. Sometimes it’s ugly. Sometimes it’s magical. It’s never boring. I’m here for the early adopters.
(Image credit Joseph Thornton CC BY-SA 2.0)
About Us
Hello we are Kris & Nicci