We began with a problem. M=musicians V=venues S=scene B=Brighton
The scene was dance music. B=V+S
M did not fit into the equation. It was hard enough finding venues for our DJing but spiritual homes were found. Out of favour live music had to be self promoted.
The Prince Albert became the home of The Bleeding Hearts Club. There was demand for what we were doing. The musicians hated us and some copied us, but we really had an event that was worth something. We taught people how to listen. There were rules. Many rules. If they didn’t agree they were asked to leave.
The night died and we walked away.
The night was revived. A new audience, another plan. Then another. The music kept changing but the audiences wanted the past back. Time to stop again.
The Rialto Theatre was the new home. It felt right. There were no distractions here and the room smelled funny. We learned new things here. We discovered who we needed to be.
Bleeding Heart Recordings is the reminder of these nights. It’s what allows us to recall the curious stiletto heels, the disappearances, the strange visitors, the staff, the impossible incidents with soldering irons, art, darkness, locked doors, angelic voices, energy, laughter, sticky piano keys, love.
Many adventures have been had with each collection of musicians. Some of my recollections seem odd now, but when you’re in it, it all makes perfect sense.