Old Friend

My good friend and musician Rebecca Jade, hosts a songwriting night once a month. The aim of the night is to get the usually stagnant creative juices flowing, by proposing a theme for all participants to write a song about. The last month's chosen theme, picked from a hat, was "old friend". From those two words, I've written the following piece. It's debut performance will be at Folke Newington this Sunday.

Old Friend

So long old friend. I've buried you, as you did me. I've got myself back finally.
So long old friend. You may go now, to where your mind, has been all the time.
So long old friend.

I may seem a little bitter, under this sentimental glitter,
But I must protest, I feel a lot less.
As I get longer in the tooth, thanks to the tumult of youth,
It gets harder each year, to part with a single tear...

So long old friend. I've buried you, as you did me. I've got myself back finally.
So long old friend. You may go now, to where your mind, has been all the time.
So long old friend.

All these trivial teenage trials, and tribulations aside,
The lack of a will, undermines the way.
As I get longer in the tooth, thanks to the tumult of youth,
It gets harder each year, to part with a single tear...

So long old friend. I've buried you, as you did me. I've got myself back finally.
So long old friend. You may go now, to where your mind, has been all the time.
So long old friend.

Must We Be Bound?

I present a new song I wrote over Christmas, but finalised last night. It's debut performance will be at Folke Newington this Sunday, March 13th, 2011, doors at 8pm, free entry.

Must We Be Bound

Must we be bound?
From now until the time agreed we lay our promise down,
All efforts to break free will be crushed into the ground,
Must we be bound?
We must be bound.

We may be silly little fools, that think they know it all,
But tell me, when will that cease to be, the essence of mortality?
With no god in which to trust, mine is with yours be as it must,
So fast your hand to mine, it's the blind leading the blind.

Must we be bound?
From now until the time agreed we lay our promise down,
All efforts to break free will be crushed into the ground,
Must we be bound?
We must be bound.

No document is needed or any caution heeded,
When time and money are pissed away on endless nights of debauchery.
And a hangover is the only thing, I've a chance of being intimate with.
Well here's my lot I throw it in, and take what may come on the chin.

Must we be bound?
From now until the time agreed we lay our promise down,
All efforts to break free will be crushed into the ground,
Must we be bound?
Must we be bound?
Must we be bound?
Must we be bound?

Footage from rooms

The last week has seen the band and I play a few acoustic shows, power down style. One of these performances took place in someone's living room in rather swanky part of London, Primrose Hill. That was for people at Songs From a Room, who organise pop up gigs in living rooms in cities all over the world.

The other acoustic performance we gave was at Flashback Records to commemorate and celebrate my debut album coming out on vinyl record. It was an overwhelming night, with the shop bursting with people, the busiest it's ever been said its owner. If you failed to make it down to grab a copy, Flashback is stocking the album 'Heathcliffian Surly' permanently, on CD and Vinyl. Alternatively you can buy over the internet here.

We will be quiet for a month now, and will re-emerge at the Union Chapel on Saturday, March 5th, for Daylight, an afternoon of music starting at midday.

Until then, have a butchers at some of the recent footage below.


Live at Flashback Records:

Live at Songs From a Room:

Review from Sharon O' Connell at Uncut

Below is a review of 'Heathcliffian Surly' by Sharon O’ Connell at Uncut:

He describes himself as “a crooner of morose ballads and drunken frisky jigs”, but the eccentric Dando has his sights set on multiple broader horizons. Marrying his mannered and melodramatic baritone – equal parts Noel Coward, Baby Dee and Bryan Ferry – to this quintet’s accomplished orchestrations, he dips into klezmer/gypsy jazz, upbeat indie country, honky –tonk and Associates-style art pop. Dando’s florid delivery and self-conscious romanticism won’t be to everyone’s taste, but there’s humanity and a tender heart here, along with the hubris and professed horror of modern life, as “Odessa!” and “No Tomorrow” attest.

Summary of 2010

Usually around this time of year, I like to rain terror down upon the hell hole venues that I’ve played in, or the wicked promoters that do nothing to earn their title. However, the gripes of previous years don’t seem to have been as prevalent in 2010 now that I recall. Could this be progress, or luck? Pft, who cares. It was nice, let’s leave at that. So to cement some of the memories, I’d like to round up my year with the below YouTube playlist, which is a collection of videos from artists that I've enjoyed immensely in the past 12 months. Here's to another splendid year in 2011.



If you click play above, it should play video after video of the playlist. Tracklisting below:

Timber Timbre - Magic Arrow
Beach House - Norway
Where Is My Mind - Chancery Blame and the Gadjo Club
Black Doe - Mary Epworth and the Jubilee Band
Ultrasound - Sovereign
Kenji Mizoguchi - Geisha Dance from Ugetsu Monagatari
This Is Laura - The Ghosts of Lovers and Hounds
Ellie Goulding - The Writer
Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now (2000)
Dakota Jim - medley of his songs including, We Will Meet Again
Beach House - Better Times
Timber Timbre - Demon Host
Bethia Beadman - Homerton Station
Ultrasound - Everything Picture (live at The Lexington, reformation gig)
Canteloube - "Bailero" - Sung by Netania Davrath
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - I'm Glad
Kenji Mizoguchi - Sanshô dayû

Review from Martin Skivington at The Skinny

Below is a review of 'Heathcliffian Surly' by Martin Skivington at The Skinny:

Marmaduke Dando has been described as an author channelling the 'horrors and beauties of the modern world', but hyperbole aside, his music sounds something like a cross between Antony Hegarty's weeping recitals and Baby Dee's warped balladry. His debut album, Heathcliffian Surly, is a drink-soaked, literary and almost Victorian collection of morose pop, led by his own piano playing and supported by a five-piece band.

Dando assumes theatrical roles exquisitely throughout, from dejected drunk (Dead To The World) to embracing romantic (All Of Me), while giving a lesson in early 20th Century song in the process. Although it's easy to find his voice overbearing – a notion magnified by a song like Life Can't Get Any Better – the skill and subtle wit of songs such as Give Me Detumescence still indicates an artist who's well aware of his own idiosyncrasies, and capable of using them to his advantage. A curious introduction.

http://www.theskinny.co.uk/article/101047-marmaduke-dando-heathcliffian-surly

Review from Shane O’ Leary at Unpeeled

Below is a review of 'Heathcliffian Surly' by Shane O’ Leary at Unpeeled:

Obviously that headline should read 'genius with beard plays piano', but that's no fun and would undermine any claim to dyslexia. However, we have found a genius and he does, for the moment at least, have a beard.

Said genius also has a name. We're presuming that Marmaduke Dando is a nom de warble as opposed to something his poor, gin-soaked old mum scrawled on his birth certificate before expiring with a fit of the giggles. Said genius also has an album to purvey, convey, sell, flog and place before the bemused and largely non-bearded masses. Said album is called "Heathcliffian Surly" and the big money is on it being a reference to a certain character that sent the muse, licketty-split, to both Kate Bush and Cliff Richard, a threesome I don't wish to visualise again, but an album we should all hear again and again and... you get the idea. There is a proper review on the 'Everything Else' page, but skip that and skip directly to www.marmadukedando.com

Heathcliffian', but we'll have a go... Alas, the artiste known as Marmaduke Dando is a
beautiful breeze of fetid air as Bela Lugosi amuses himself, Miss Havisham style in a basement once inhabited by some kind of Bryan Ferry/Brian Eno mutation.

Knockers and the insensitively souless will point out that this is an album with more arch than Archway, more affectation than an incoming princess and far too clever to be good for itself. We call those people 'Conservatives' and point out that "Heathcliffian Surly" is the fine dining version of 'Rocky Horror' and that Marmaduke Dando may well be camper than Baden Powell, but he slips through genres more slickly than a Mozart made of eels. Take something like "The Last Drink", a honky tonk, slow-mo piano stamp around a bordello bar, something that both Leon Russell and Hinge & Bracket would be comfortable with and perfect for. This is such a lovely record that I'm liable to come over all sensible and suggest that you buy it, a
lot and now.

IS IT ANY GOOD? We don't get a lot of genius down our way, but we know it when we hear it.