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July 2022 Archive
31.07.22 > Summer Tour underway
Katie has begun her summer tour of Germany, which is bookended by gigs in Switzerland and Lithuania. She began at Zoa City, Zurich, on Thursday, and commences a 6-date tour in 8 days around Germany beginning with Schloss Oranienburg, Berlin on 3rd August. The remaining events are listed below. Visit the On Tour section (link in the left menu) if you would like to check ticket availability for the remaining shows.
As for UK fans, well, no good news at the moment. The disappointment of the 2020 Tour cancellation is still raw for some of us but the current mini tour of Germany are likely to be Katie's last major shows for a while. Events in her personal life may mean we have to be patient before seeing her at a UK venue again. Who knows when we'll get to see her perform the beautiful songs of Album No. 8 and Aerial Objects live, but the wait will be worth it.
24.07.22 > Katie and Simon talk about Aerial Objects
There's a nice piece in the Yorkshire Post by Duncan Seaman where Katie and Simon discuss working together and the ideas behind the tracks on Aerial Objects. You can find it at Katie Melua and Simon Goff: On the making of Aerial Objects | Yorkshire Post
15.07.22 > Aerial Objects Released Today!
Katie's new album, a collaboration with Simon Goff, is now available. Aerial Objects is stunning. Go find it in all the expected places...
10.07.22 > The Adventures of Bad Katie - Episode 21
“Boy, have I ever got you an amazing gig!” said Sumit, rubbing his hands gleefully.
“I’m not a boy, I’m a girl, and no, you have never got me an amazing gig,” said Bad Katie grumpily.
Sumit looked peeved. “No, I mean I really have got you lined up for something pretty special.”
“If it’s a judge on a talent show you are about to lose teeth.”
“Calm down, dear. I’d never insult your integrity like that.”
“Hmmm.”
“I’m talking about the chance to work with one of the greatest icons in the history of music.”
“Bublé? He’s been chasing me for years making puppy dog eyes and warbling like a pigeon. He knows where he can shove it.”
“Katie, you incandescent oaf, I’m talking about the legend that is Bob Dylan.”
“Oh. Thought he was dead.”
“Very much alive and well, and there are certain artists he would like to work with while he still feels motivated and before he, er, does kick the bucket. For reasons I’ve yet been able to fathom, you’re one of them.”
“Oh thanks.”
“Hey look, the guy’s getting on and his time is precious. I did ask if he’d considered Adele.”
Bad Katie growled.
Sumit raised a hand. “It’s okay. He winced at the idea. Said he’d tried listening to one of her songs and ended up with tinnitus for a week.”
“Heh, heh,” chuckled Bad Katie.
“He said your volume was perfect. Soothed his brain instead of assaulting it.”
“The guy has taste.”
“He said you massaged his cerebellum.”
“I did no such thing,” exclaimed Bad Katie. “Dirty old sod.”
“Yes, well, this is an amazing opportunity for you. There’s so much you could learn from this guy about songwriting.”
“Works both ways you know. He’ll learn a lot from me too.”
“Yeah, like never to work with you again,” laughed Sumit.
Bad Katie scowled at him. “Anyway, what’s he paying?”
“Paying? Are you not listening? This is Bob Dylan we’re talking about. You should be paying him.”
Bad Katie snorted. “He’s well minted. And besides, I’m a highly sought-after performer, I don’t have time to do freebies.”
Sumit flicked through his desk diary. “Actually, you’ve no bookings for the next two months.”
“I have a lot of meditating to do. I need to re-centre my chi. I’ll be extremely busy doing nothing.”
“Bob wants to record a duet with you and then shoot a video for it. He’ll play your grandad. Oh, and he suggested that actor you fancy, Chucky Egg or something, to play your love interest…”
“Chuck Roxx!” squealed Bad Katie. “You know what, I’ve always wanted to work with Bob Dylan. Set it up, Sumit.”
Bad Katie put two fingers in each side of her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The cab that was approaching slowed down and stopped beside her. She clambered in and slumped back in the seat.
“Where to miss?” said the driver.
“Hey Arnie, not seen you for a while, how you been?” said Bad Katie.
Eric, who, for reasons unknown, Bad Katie preferred to refer to as Arnie, grimaced. “Yeah. Kind of hoped you’d buggered off back to Georgia.”
“Arnie! After all I’ve done for you. I’m savagely hurt. And I was just about to say how well you’re looking.”
“That’s because I’ve not seen you for a while.”
“You’re in danger of not getting a tip young man.”
“I suppose that’s progress. I’m usually in danger of not getting paid when you’re in my cab. Where to then?”
“The recording studio.”
“Ah. Well, good to know some microphone is about to have a worse day than me.”
“What is wrong with you today? You’re testing my patience, Arnie.”
Eric sighed. “Sorry mi.. er, ma’am. The wife just left me. Ran off with another cabbie. Well, actually, he gave her a lift.”
“Can’t say I blame her.”
“I’ve thought about ending it all.”
“No, Arnie, you mustn’t think like that. Just hang in there. At least, until you get me to the studio.”
“I’ve missed your caring attitude,” said Eric.
“Ooh, hang on Arnie, slow down a sec.”
Bad Katie wound her window down as Eric took his foot off the gas. She took a catapult and a walnut out of her bag and with great dexterity sent said walnut flying through the air, where it briefly enjoyed its short-lived existence as an aerial object before colliding with the backside of a passing policeman. The policeman squealed and looked around in disbelief.
“Floor it, Arnie,” said Bad Katie, winding her window back up.
Eric grinned. “I’ve missed you, ma’am.”
Bad Katie entered the hallway of the recording studio. An elderly gentleman was squinting at the photographs hung up of famous singers who had passed through that very hall.
“Hey old man,” she said. “You escape from a care home or something?”
“I’m just waiting for a pretty young woman to share some special time with.”
“Yeah, good luck with that Methuselah. Kudos for your spirit though.”
“Think it might be you, babe.”
“Dream on, grandad.”
“The name’s Dylan. Bob Dylan.”
“Oh, right, I see. Do you want me to help you into the studio?”
“I’m old, babe, not decrepit.”
“Well you look decrepit.”
“Thanks, babe. You must be Kaydee.”
“No, Katie.”
“That’s what I said, Kaydee.”
“No, it’s Katie, not Kaydee.”
Bob looked confused. “Not sure I follow you, babe.”
“That’s okay, I don’t follow you either. I’m surprised you even have an Instagram account to be honest. I suppose you have a team that handles it.”
Bob squinted at her inscrutably. “Good thing you sing fine, babe, cos you sure do talk a lot of nothing.”
At that moment, Sumit arrived, out of breath. “Sorry I’m late. Oh Jesus, what’s that smell? Sorry Katie, Bob’s of that certain age where wind gets to be a problem.”
“Actually, that was me,” said Bad Katie grinning.
Bob eyed Sumit inscrutably. “The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.”
Bob and Bad Katie stood in front of their microphones, headphones donned.
Bad Katie cleared her throat.
“Testing, testing,” she said into the microphone.
Bob gazed wearily at her. “Ain’t you just, my dear. Look, there ain’t no need for that nonsense, these boys got everything set up sweet.”
Bad Katie glared at him. “I’m testing my voice, Gandalf, not the bloody microphone.”
“Oh. I see. Well, I never do that.”
“I know, I’ve heard your recordings.”
“Anyhow, let’s do this thing.”
“Okay. So, you’re going to sing the questions and I’ll do the answer bits, right?”
“You got it, babe.”
Bad Katie’s eyes narrowed. “Which means you get to sing more lines than me.”
Bob chuckled. “Which means you have to do less work for the same pay! Seems like you got the better deal here.”
“Okay guys,” said a voice in their headphones. “Can we go for a take then?”
Bob shrugged. He didn’t bother clearing his voice before singing. He’d never done it before in his life and saw no reason to start now.
”How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?”
Bad Katie put her hand up. “Hold on a minute.”
“What?” said Bob. “That was flawless.”
“Yeah, but sexist. Can’t you change it to ‘person’?”
“No. Been like that since I wrote it fifty years ago and I ain’t changing’ it now. Any other issues with the lyrics?”
“Well, actually, yes.”
“Really? You know they gave me the Nobel Prize for my lyrics.”
“So what? I got a certificate from night school but you don’t see me harping on about it.”
“Okay missy, enlighten me. What else is wrong with the song?”
“Right. For a start, doves don’t sleep in sand, they like to perch in trees or on a ledge. And cannonballs don’t need to be banned, they haven’t been used for centuries. You only see them in museums. And as for…”
Bob put his hands up in the air. “Whoa young lady, hold your horses there. Don’t take things so literal. It’s all about imagery, not accuracy. Poetic license. Painting pictures with words.”
Bad Katie sighed. “Just trying to help.”
“The song is a classic my dear, it don’t need no help.”
“That’s a double negative.”
“What?”
“Whatever.”
Bob snarled. “Okay, once more from the top…”
“Oh, hi, Mister Roxx,” said Bad Katie, blushing like a smitten schoolgirl.
“Hey, you must be Katie,” said Hollywood heart-throb Chuck Roxx. He flashed his perfect teeth as he grinned and gave her his trademark wink, the one that made women love him and men hate him.
“I’m your number one fan,” said Bad Katie. “I have all your films on Blu-ray, even the straight to DVD ones that aren’t available on Blu-ray.”
“Really?” chuckled Chuck. “How’d you manage that?”
“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you. My favourite is The Heartcrusher. I still daydream about that bit with the fluffy handcuffs…”
Chuck smiled uneasily.
“And what you did with those hollowed-out melons in The Dog-Walker’s Wife, well, genius.”
“That wasn’t actually my idea…”
“Okay people, let’s get to work,” yelled Taylor, the director of the video. “So, in this scene, we need you, Bob, gently rocking in the chair on the porch of the beach house, looking wistfully out to sea as though recalling some bittersweet moment from long ago. Then Chuck, you amble along the beach, smiling in a carefree manner. Katie, you run towards him and give him an affectionate hug like an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. Right then, everybody hit their start marks.”
Bad Katie and Chuck Roxx shuffled off in opposite directions on the beach whilst Bob Dylan eased himself into the chair on the porch. He squinted out to sea.
“Hey Bob,” shouted Taylor. “We need wistful, not inscrutable.”
“Inscrutable’s all I got,” growled Bob.
“Er, okay, inscrutable is fine,” said Taylor. “And…. action!”
Bob began rocking, Chuck began ambling, Bad Katie began running.
“Cut!” yelled Taylor a few seconds later. “Katie, I said hug him affectionately, not wrestle him to the ground and straddle him. Back to your marks, everyone.”
A bemused Chuck scrambled to his feet and dusted sand off his jeans. “Gonna be a long day…”
Bad Katie sat pouting in Sumit’s office, her arms folded, as she sulkily watched the big screen. “It’s so unfair!”
“I think it’s a great video,” said Sumit. “I’ve never seen Bob look so… well, inscrutable. And as for Roxx, I have to say he surprised me, the guy can actually act.”
“And what about that bimbo in the stupid wig and sunglasses? No one will ever believe that’s me!”
“Actually, I’ve let a few people see the video and nobody has twigged she’s a double yet.”
“She’s not my double,” hissed Bad Katie. “She couldn’t be less like me if she tried.”
“She’s a very good character actress, nailed your mannerisms, and the make-up guys worked their usual magic. No one will suspect. No one will ever know.”
“Huh. I’ll know,” mumbled Bad Katie grumpily.
“Well look Katie, you only have yourself to blame. After the eleventh take of that first scene, anyone could see that Chuck was not amused. We tried to talk him out of a restraining order but he was adamant. He would have quit the shoot and we couldn’t risk losing our star.”
“Star! I’m the star! Well, and maybe Bob a bit too. It’s our song you know.”
“Technically, it’s Bob’s song. But in terms of an MTV audience, Roxx is the star. They’ve probably never even heard of Dylan, never mind you.”
“How rude,” huffed Bad Katie.
“It’s business, Katie. Just business. Look, let it go and move on. I’ll go and get us some nice coffee.”
The moment Sumit left the room, Bad Katie took a container from her rucksack and took out three out-of-date eggs which she then carefully placed underneath Sumit’s seat cushion.
When Sumit returned she smiled at him.
“That’s better,” he said. “Glad to see you taking my advice for a change.”
Bad Katie grinned wickedly. “Well, there’s no point making a stink is there?”.
04.07.22 > DEK Magazine Issue 05
Katie and Simon are featured in Issue 5 of DEK Magazine, discussing their collaboration on the forthcoming Aerial Objects album. An interesting read no doubt, but be warned that it costs £12, which in the current economic climate equates to around 6 litres of diesel. If financial woes are not something that furrows your brow on a regular basis then why not click the pic below to pop along to the DEK web site and check it out. If the little budget bouncer on your shoulder is growling in your ear at the mere idea, perhaps you'd be better off popping along to Katie's online store and pre-ordering the album itself, out on the 15th, for a genuine bargain of £9.99.
