Turning Around
When everything changed in a month, I found myself touring the world and playing with two artists I had always admired.
It’s approaching Christmas 2015, and I am just about settling into being back home with my family after a long, arduous winter term of teaching at schools in and around London. I say how arduous it was, as teaching and dealing with adolescents can be at times. Still, I was also getting into the swing of things and accepting this new, full-time position as a peripatetic guitar tutor at various schools across London. The rewards from teaching and inspiring young kids are unmatchable; it is a blessed position to be in with a steady (ish) income and rewards beyond the money whilst teaching your passion. Although there is only so much Green Day and Ed Sheeran, you can endure before you begin to question your music tastes. It is tiring work in more ways than one.
On the train from Paddington to Reading, I found myself gazing out the window as Chasing Yesterday by Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds resonated through my headphones. The passing scenery blurred into the music, and for fifty quiet minutes, I slipped into a space of thought and reflection. That album, at least for me, has a way of drawing you inward—it encourages a kind of reflection that feels liberating and healing. It transformed a simple train ride into something quietly cathartic.
I needed the cathartic, as there was plenty to process from the year behind me. I was not long out of a relationship that did not end well, resulting in one of my housemates sleeping with my now ex in my own house. Plus, The Drop, the band I had long been part of curating and writing, was on a forced hiatus, which hit me hard.
Since moving to London in 2007, The Drop lads and I worked hard to get us from the bare beginnings to playing in packed venues across the country and being festival favourites by 2014 and early 2015. It was my sole creative outlet in those days, a place and platform on which I directed all my motivation and creative energy throughout those years. We were a family swept up in a wave of musical energy—back then were the days of endless festivals, late-night writing sessions, an album on the way, and a fanbase that felt like it was growing with us. It was a time full of momentum and magic, everything felt possible.
So when it all came to an abrupt yet temporary end, I found myself spending most of 2015 struggling with the loss of a creative outlet, not seeing my musical family enough and barely playing any guitar. Instead, I played hard in other ways. Unhealthy ways. I was leaning into the party side of the North London Warehouse scene a bit too much and completely losing any creative flow and connection with my instrument. After my relationship ended, it was the nail in the coffin. I lost all motivation and found myself lost, directionless and derelict of motivation and creativity. Luckily, at the time, I had sporadic teaching jobs here and there, which kept me going alongside financial support from working tax credits. Without anything to focus on, I decided to put my energy into teaching, and at home, I set up a fish tank.
Time (and a fish tank) being the great healer, I got into a newfound teaching routine as the year arrived around its halfway point. However, outside of teaching ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams and ‘Thinking of You’ all day at school, I wasn't playing the guitar much, and I would still barely pick it up after getting home from a full day of teaching. I was out of practice and certainly not ‘gig fit’ and definitely not brimming with confidence. It was around this time that I got a call from Natty.
You couldn't write it, could you? Well, I am now. An artist you have been a fan of for years calls you up out of the blue and asks if you want to play for them, at the point where I had long written off any kind of performing. I remembered coming across Natty at the Lovebox Festival 2008 in London and thinking, ‘I would love to play guitar for him!’. I had watched Natty blow up with his album ‘Man Like I’ and was a big fan from the get-go.
Natty had seen me play in The Drop on one of his nights at Passing Clouds (RIP), Dalston, back in 2013 or 14. He was initially looking for a guitarist to join his band, The Rebelship, for his album launch of ‘ Release the Fear’ on December 1st at Camden Barfly. After the year I’d had, confidence being low, it threw me. I didn’t feel up to it, and it threatened my new routine, which was providing me with an escape route from the rollercoaster 2015 was proving to be. I knew I was going to say yes. I wanted to say yes, but I gave myself a hard time over it.
After a good phone call, we became friends immediately, plus it turned out we had many neutral friends, I also knew his current drummer, Toby, from ACM - our music university. I went to sit in on some rehearsals, met the band and saw them play with Tom, his friendly and very talented guitarist at the time, The vibe was good. Tom and I even got geeky over his pedal board. The style of guitar in Natty’s music was closely related to the style I had honed over the years with The Drop. I thought back to that time at Lovebox. I said, “I’m in!”
I was aboard the Rebelship.
It brought me back to myself and my instrument. Snapped me back to playing properly. Natty came over and we hung out and jammed out the tunes at mine. Rehearsals went well down on Camden Road, and it was great to meet the band and catch up with Toby after so long. We used to play in many bands together back in those old ACM days.
I remember being quite shaky during the show, likely down to nerves, but it was a vibe! The Rebelship band were a force to be reckoned with; it felt like a rocket engine powerhouse coming from the back of the stage, and Natty was smashing it out front stage. It was a special feeling playing those songs I had listened to from his Man Like I era. I remember having a particularly spine-tingling moment playing ‘Badman’. Plus, ‘I’m Alive’ from ‘Release The Fear’ resonated with me in such a way that I remember it being u pivotal and poignant part of my personal growth during that time. A pure celebration of life.
I got home from the show and went to work the next day feeling good. I went straight back to my routine for the last few weeks in the run-up to the Christmas holidays. This brings us back to that reflective Paddington to Reading train journey, to the soundtrack of the High Flying Birds. I arrived in my hometown, my mind a perfect storm of emotions I was navigating myself through. Before I knew it, I was in the pub with my old mates. I felt good. So good I drank one too many Ales and woke up with a medium to serious hangover. But, content. I had come to the end of a hard year in a good way, with a new routine, playing a show with Natty, and now blowing off steam with my old mates in Reading. I looked forward to going up North to see my Grandma and getting away for a bit, and then back to teaching in January.
I sat down with a cup of tea and decided to finish some timetabling and emails from my school job. Get it done, and relax. I opened my inbox and saw an email from my mate Si—the guy who had booked The Drop at festivals over the years on his epic and beautiful Chai Wallahs stage. Earlier that year, I’d sent him a message, hoping to get back out there and apply for a slot on his stage for summer 2016. Looking back, it was probably a move part driven by a bit of desperation—a real need to feel part of it all again.
The reply was
“I will check this and come back to you, but I need to talk to you about something else. Joss needs a new Dep guitarist for a tour in January, as her guitarist is having a baby. Would you be up for auditioning? Can you send us a video of you playing ASAP?? ”
I loved Joss Stone and her vibe; I thought she was one of the best voices of our generation, and I had so much respect for her passion for music and the love she put into it, which shone through in the performances I had seen on her do on TV.
I found myself rushing to get the train back to London, where my guitar and gear were, to film an initial video of me playing along to Super Duper Love. This time, on the train, listening to Joss’s ‘Water for Your Soul’ album. Less reflective, more excited this time. I played ‘Stuck on You’ over and over, really digging the delicate acoustic guitar part over the 9/8 groove. I was into it.
My mate Joe texts me, asking if I want to meet for a pint in Bethnal Green.
‘Actually, yes! I do, I'm unexpectedly back in London for the evening. I need to record a short video, then I’ll meet you”
I went home and did the video after a few rushed takes, but due to technological difficulties, I couldn’t send it. It wasn’t so easy back then. I was late to meet Joe, so I decided not to leave him hanging and send the video the next day.
“What is the video for then mate?” Joe asked
“Joss Stone audition” I grinned
“But what about The Drop? I wanted to be your official merch guy! You won’t have time for them now!” Joe joked.
“Ah, I don't think l’ll get it, it’s just a one-off dep gig anyway”
My confidence was still low, but I wasn't on the ground anymore. I decided to get the train back to Reading that night and carry on with my family at Christmas time. With my brother's help, we just about managed to get the video files converted and sent to Si just before Christmas.
With that done, I enjoyed a lovely Christmas up on the North Yorkshire moors and the Yorkshire coast, seeing my Grandma and family. It was a good Christmas. A proper break. I returned to London at the beginning of the new year, all fresh, prepped and ready to go back to school and my routine. I hadn’t heard back from Si and kinda presumed nothing was going ahead, and I had rushed the video. I started back at school for the spring term and got on with it, content, rejuvenated, and ready for the new year.
Fresh new year, fresh new start.
It turned out to be fresher than I had expected.
I woke up on a crisp, sunny January morning on January 4th, in my London pad, ready to go to school and teach more Green Day and Ed Sheeran. I opened my email on the bus and saw an email from Si sent at 5 am.
“Bro can you get your arse down to Devon this week for a rehearsal… a day or two should do it.
Joss is happy to confirm you, provided you can get down here and rehearse for a couple of days.
You’ll be departing on the 12th of January and returning on the 29th/30th.
Also need passport scan asap.
Nice One
Si”
I arrived at work minutes later and committed to teaching all day. Processing the email in the back of my mind whilst trying my best to be present for the students. I returned home and went through the emotional process and the decisions involved from what had just been offered to me. I wasn't expecting it. My initial reaction was no, I can’t do it, I’m not up to scratch, my confidence was low, and I had barely played the guitar properly for most of 2015. The thought of going halfway across the world, with people I didn’t know terrified me at the time. Plus, what about my routine!??!
I call my Mum. I explain to her that I am not going to do it. I am happy with my new routine, and I don’t want to lose my school job and lose money. I was skint. After all, this was only for one tour, and I was just about starting to kick off a new teaching career.
“I think you should do it; you don’t get many opportunities like this. Deal with it all when you get back, I’m sure the school will understand, they should be lucky to have a guitar teacher who is being asked to go on tour with Joss Stone! Plus, you may get more opportunities from this, and I am sure they’ll love you!”
I am so blessed to have a Mum I have.
I called Si and said yes to the offer. He sent me the set list to learn.
I called the school, took the week off, hammered out the set, and holed up in my room all week. I focused hard, barely leaving my room. After two days of sketching out, thinking that I couldn't do this - what with my personal issues and with the short time scale involved - I pushed through and found myself completely immersed in Joss’s music and lyrics, seeing where she was coming from and attaching myself to the groove and melodies which she vibes off. It was a transcendental awakening moment.
I jump on the train to Devon with my Guitar. About halfway, I get a text from Natty.
“Bro, can you come to do a live session on Saturday night? Jump up with some great musicians and singers at Passing Clouds?”
It’s all happening now! I thought. I said yes, but that I would be potentially late as I will be coming from Devon, and I’m not sure when I finish. He was cool with it.
I arrived at Joss’s with a warm welcome, a cup of tea, lunch and a rehearsal, which went well. I met the crew and her dogs, and we ended the day with a lovely home-cooked meal from Joss and a good ole’ drink. She put me up in a lovely room with Himalayan salt lamps and cooked me breakfast in the morning.
“We don’t need to rehearse any more I trust you. You‘ve got this!” Joss said.
Si winked at me.
Next thing I know, I'm on my way back to London, a tube straight to Passing Clouds, and jumping on stage with The Rebelship family, rocking it out to a packed, sweaty venue on a Saturday night.
I’m back! I thought on stage whilst watching the crowd move to the bass.
Less than a week later, I was flying to Honduras after meeting Joss and the crew at Heathrow T3 to do a 3-week tour of Central America as part of the Total World Tour, where Joss was to play a show every country in the world. That ended up becoming my world for the next five years, right up until just before COVID hit. I saw the world. I also became Natty’s regular main guitarist, travelling to countries far and wide, and by late 2016, I was in the blessed but difficult position of navigating gig clashes between Joss and Natty.
How things had turned around. I had now been welcomed into two new musical families and was back playing again. I wasn't immediately back to full confidence again; it took a while to settle in and be confident in these new scenarios with new people in new places. It all turned around in just over a month. How did this all come about from such a bad year in 2015? I certainly feel blessed, and I thank the universe for these opportunities. Over recent years, I have given myself a pat on the back. The hard work put in and getting out there with The Drop certainly got people’s attention. But also for not completely letting myself slide away and fall off the tracks back in the depths of 2015.
What I have learned from this period of time is that anything can happen at any time, at the times you least expect it. With help from family and friends and leaning into that vulnerability, I was able to be talked out of making the wrong decisions and found myself pushing the limits of my comfort zone. And look what happened?
After the lost years, trauma and that big glass wall of time that was COVID-19, the lasting impact it had on both my personal life and the music industry, 10 years on, 2025 feels like a moment of clarity. The challenges that once felt overwhelming are now more manageable, with a new sense of perspective. Along the way, I’ve made new friends, and I’ve come to realise that the creative outlets and the sense of community I thought I’d lost never truly vanished—I was just grieving the change. What stands out most is the personal resilience and regulation that’s developed over time and how each experience and lesson has shaped the way I approach inevitable change with what feels like a stronger sense of stability and confidence.
How things did indeed turn around. What’s next? Who knows! Stay positive. Keep playing. Keep going. Routine is freedom but also trapping. Believe and understand yourself and others through empathy as much as within your realms. Things will always be fine.
It turned out that everything and more was possible.
I leave you with The Drop - Turning Around.
Haven't read it all yet, but so far so very very good.