Departure from Stagnation Station

I had planned to start writing this in January, but, alas, I just ran out of time. Which is quite ironic because that’s the reason why I wanted to write this blog in the first place…

See, I appreciate how lucky I am, I honestly do. I live in a lovely big house with my beautiful, successful wife, our perfect dog, and two cats, one of whom I like and the other I can tolerate. My creative endeavours as a drummer has seen me play in some weird and wonderful places with some mega talented folk, all over the world, with tours, radio airplay and everything else you dream of when you first learn to hit things in time, including all the non-glamorous bits, of course (but I dreamed of those, too - but who doesn't love a Ginsters slice from a garage at 2am for dinner?). In my parallel life, as a writer/performer of theatre stuff that sometimes drifts into other mediums, it's also gone rather well at times; 19 years of Edinburgh Fringes, some lovely national press, a few awards, a lot of touring, an award-winning feature film was made based on a play I wrote. And again, the time I've spent doing all of this stuff has found me being introduced to inspiring, creative people in random places along the way. 

But. 

Last year none of this really happened. Of course, the band gigs were lovely, as they always are, but creatively I just...I don't know, played everything a bit safe. Lazy, you could say. The best times I had were when I was performing my old, hit, show, in various parts of the UK. The new stuff was just rushed, sticking to a formula I've tried and tested, and was 'fine' - I know how to structure a play, I know where jokes should be. But no spark. No danger, no risks. Stagnation, but in a non-dramatic, I didn't really notice it at the time, kind of way. In fact, I only noticed it when, at Christmas, I panicked and thought, "where HAVE those 12 months gone?", time goes a bit quicker when you're 43, it seems. 

To keep the bills paid, I teach drums, I'm totally freelance, I pick and choose my hours and it's a cracking way to make a living. I enjoy the musical development of my students, young and (sometimes very) old, we all have a lovely time and it often doesn't feel like work. It's very rare I wake up and don't want to do this, which I appreciate, from a job point of view, must be enviable for many who slave in a 9-5 to keep food on the table. I put on student concerts and I can see in some cases it changes their lives, that's all a bit priceless. But the danger of being freelance is that it's really hard to say no, especially when you have a decent reputation and people are offering you money to do something you enjoy. But I think here lies the problem. In 2024, I just worked the bread and butter stuff too much, to the point where I did run out writing time, or rehearsal time. Yet, I don't need to - the more you work, the more you get taxed for it, the more tired you feel, the less time you have for other stuff. Look, I'm just trying to justify why last year's Edinburgh show was a bit undercooked, alright?

I have a fear of drifting, of suddenly becoming one of those people that goes to work, and then watches telly, and goes to bed exhausted, and repeats the cycle. You know, the sort of people who actually have time to keep their car clean (okay, that's NEVER been me). 

I'm not unhappy, far from it - pretty much everything in life has fallen into place and I'm beyond grateful. I'm just a little restless, and I fear I may have forgotten how to take the odd risk. Everything that is good in my life has started with a risk. 

2025; just write more. Gig more. Create more. Go to all the places, meet all the future collaborators, drink all the wine, buy all the stationary because notepads are cool. Just do all the fun stuff. More time spent turning the hundreds of post-it notes on my desk into actual pieces of work I'm proud of, more time spent performing, more time on the road. More gigs for my students, more band projects, more films, more shows. Just more. Whilst somehow making enough money, and keeping my homelife happy, and seeing more of my mates as I totally forgot to do that last year apart from the odd wedding. 

And that, friends, is why this blog now exists. Just because, come December, I can look back at my ever-growing list of escapades and think, "yeah, that's a bit better, Richards." 

Anyway, that's the intro/justification out of the way. Feel free to come along for the ride. There will be some dull bits, I imagine, but I'll try and keep those to a minimum.