I DISCOVERED THE BOY THAT I WAS, THUS I BECAME AN ADULT

 It’s
8am and i’m in front of my computer. The latest deadline for this
column is in about 1h. My head hurts after those two glasses of
australian cheap wine that i drunk yesterday night, and i’m almost at my
4th attempt that I do to write the column of this month.

I
thought to talk about bullying, but it was too depressing, or about
marijuana since that i live in the studio with the nicest unpacked of
the world. I even started to write a column about the tomato sauce,
don’t ask me why. But i’ve almost finished recording my album and it
took me a lifetime to finish it: so I decided that i’ll talk exclusively
about myself.

From 13 years and over, I studied at the
prestigious and ancient Westminster School. My daily preoccupation was
to find a way to sneak out the lessons and go unnoticed to the music
center.

My goal was clear: i wanted to write songs that should
remain in the head. At the music center there were many cubicles with
only a piano and a chair.

I imagined to be in the Brill Building,
the palace in NY where people like Bacharach and Carole King in the 60’s
were competing to see who found the perfect pop song, in small rooms
like where i was. When my friends and my teachers discovered what i was
doing, they began to group around me: my friends helped me to play my
songs;the librarian of the school covered me saying that i was working
for him in the afternoon. My scandalous French teacher (ex contestand at
Mr Gay UK) gave me advices. My English teacher, who is now a famous
theater director, assigned me some roles in his shows. I was a lonely
hunter backed by a secret army annd I wouldn’t have done it without
them.

After my first album I felt disjointed, lonely. I rented a
room at the legendary Olympic Studios and I stayed there for 6 months,
writing songs for piano and recording many demos. Every day I had luch,
often alone, in an elegant italian restaurant just across the street.

I
was longing for my cubicle and my upright piano, but more than anything
else of my band, the tea with the librarian, the inappropriate banter
with my French teacher, who died, and discussions with my talented
English teacher. My songs were for them and about them: I wrote about me
to make them laugh, I wrote about Billy Brown to embarass my French
teacher. How could I do without them?

At the end, I managed to
make a beautiful album, frull of melodies and depth, but in all the
sogns were missing my friends. After two years of touring and a terrible
accident in my family, I vowed to find my band. I went around, ripping
session and looking nuts. And I found them, a lot. I didn’t want to make
an album alone, and if the Brill Building no longer exists, then I
would have made one, using internet and flying here and there. This
album represents me more than ever. I wrote about people around me, I
stole their stories, and I wrote about me to make them laugh or even
make them sad.

Fear leaves you isolated, the isolation creates
even more fear and the fear make you close on yourself. Only when you
take the risk to open to others, you find a way to get out. This album is called The Origin Of Love and talks about a man who becomes an adult only when he discovers the boy that he was.

Thanks,
http://www.mikafanclub.com/forums/showthread.php?t=24642&page=278 :D