Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Ian Grimble and Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
Saul Ashby sings about a girl in his song "Summer Sun" who is just out to prove a point. She's not painted as too convincing, but it might not even be her fault. She could be better at it, but the deficiencies all get washed away as the song moves further along. The great thing about some stories is that they don't have to be deadly serious. Some of the problems that some people have can just be drowned out by the noise of one hearty night. They can be neutralized by the ferocity of something like a good time. A drag of a person can be stopped from doing any harm to others by there being an overwhelming good time in front of them, anything to strip the attention from the sour mood.
The guy in "Some Days" starts off as someone who's ready to jump off of a building. He's ready to give up, to not try at all, with the disappointments piling up like the bills in the mailbox and on the counter. He's grousing about the sunken feeling that he can't shake, but even with the attitude that he has, there's an undertone to the song that it's not going to last forever. He'll happily bury himself in the feeling of being left for dead, but he's still a guy who's getting up in the morning and making sure that he feeds the cat or takes the dog for a walk. He's still a guy who's not forgetting to water the flowers on the windowsill because he's not a monster and though he's often skeptical, there remains that thought that tomorrow could be the day and if it is, he's going to be happy that he kept those flowers alive to see it.
Ashby's music is going to make you think that you can get into all of the most exclusive clubs, the ones where you might run into Sienna Miller, the ones where the wine's flowing like wine, the ones in which everyone's going to be so happy to see you, the ones that are going to give you the vibrations to get you through the next three months of your life. It's going to make you believe that the sun's going to shine on your ass sometime soon if you can just get out the door.