‘No Need To Hide’ performed by Shane Beales with Jack Stevens and Dave Hendra live at Broadcasting House, London.
Video by Katriona Beales.
Sound by Andrew Fell.
Lighting and Editing by Andy Searle-Barnes.
‘No Need To Hide’ performed by Shane Beales with Jack Stevens and Dave Hendra live at Broadcasting House, London.
Video by Katriona Beales.
Sound by Andrew Fell.
Lighting and Editing by Andy Searle-Barnes.
‘Take Off the Flabby Bear’ performed by Shane Beales live at Broadcasting House, London.
Just found this nice review of Tel Aviv on the Guardian website in an article that begins with news of Thom Yorke’s DJing. Well, that’s one more to cross off the list…
“…Hackney-based singer-songwriter Shane Beales sounds like a man who based his musical direction on Radiohead from the Bends to Kid A, such is the tone of the yearning, electro-flecked and melodic songsmithery on his enjoyable new self-released Tel Aviv album. What marks it out is that it’s extremely short, Beales having noticed that listeners no longer have terribly long attention spans. He fits six songs and a heartfelt, season-based narrative about disappointment and new hope into just 15 minutes. It makes you wish more acts did the same, which proves what a good idea it is. You can sample Tel Aviv’s songs, or download the album for £3, from shanebeales.com.”
On the eve of the release of TEL AVIV, I thought it would be worthwhile sharing this story, which I recently heard from my sister-in-law and her partner. For about a year, they used to keep chickens in the corner of their garden. They used to provide eggs for many a family brunch and in return made a lot of mess and and a lot of noise. The chickens were often fed old or rotten tomatoes by their owners, which formed an enjoyable and regular addition to their diet.
Eventually the chickens ability to make eggs was far overshadowed by the amount of noise and mess they were creating, so their owners decided to pack up the coup and sold the chickens to a neighbour who lived round the corner. They cleaned up the corner of their garden and removed all visible signs of chicken habitation and for a time, new visitors might never have know that there were ever in chickens living in my relatives garden.
Monday sees the release of my new album Tel Aviv. I thought it would be worth sharing a little bit about the the project and what is unique about it. The essence of the album is perhaps best encapsulated in galleries 90 and 90a of the Victoria and Albert museum in South Kensington. Surprisingly it was only after conceiving and completing much of the album that I discovered the work in these rooms, but the discovery and its timing felt really poignant and poetic.
After making the observations of Spring described in this earlier post, I decided to write a series of miniature songs to reflect the tiny scale of much of the early signs of new life I was witnessing. These songs were to be complete compositions in there own right, not just fragments, but fully formed; just on a smaller scale to what is usual for me. I also felt that these smaller pieces should all run together to form a coherent whole – that rather than a collection of songs, this was a suite of six short movements that make up an expansive musical journey.
‘Fields and Flood’ taken from forthcoming micro-album ‘Tel Aviv’, released internationally on 26/9/11.
A couple of weeks ago I watched Mike “not Spike” Leigh’s new film Another Year on DVD. In case you haven’t seen it, it’s one of those films where the camera doesn’t move much and the characters talk a lot (rather than run around and dive for cover). They also drink a lot of wine, making it definitely a film for adults… Anyway, it reminded me that the events of my first year of living in London in a strangely synchronised way seem to have mirrored the four seasons.
Autumn.
As the leaves fell, my wife and I arrived in London knowing that we personally had let go of a lot. Although there were all the feelings of excitement that accompany major life moves, there was also the shock of no longer being surrounded by the familiar and well established network of care that gets built up when you’ve lived with some amazing people for an extended period of time. Our branches were becominge bare again. As a 4 year told us the day after we arrived: “You two need to go out and make some new friends!” He was right.

It’s not like what we had before
It’s opening the promise of more
It isn’t hidden but it’s small
The vital signs that give
A glimpse of what’s in store
And there’s still a memory
But colour changes everything
Soon forget the blackened sea
A new beginning let this be