You would never think that 3 men in a caravan, each and every one of them stuck for words, could be symbolic of a few days in the life of a rock band.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - ….. F# minor…… so far so good.

3 minutes later, fade out. Okey dokey boys, just a short dialogue then we are done. The patient Sligo man behind the camera looks more austerely now, the refreshed expression on his face demands action. Now we must talk rather than sing. Uneasy silence. God its hot in here. How do people live in these things? We thought we were done. Apparently not. Still silence. It seemed like an eternity.

These few days in April were quite productive actually. Spy-Fu did their first concerts. And in the baking oven of a caravan, we filmed Oxygen for Bandwagon TV. Top Gear would have approved, but only if the caravan was proven to be combustable. Why was there an uneasy silence? It was because finally we were performing. We were doing something rather than nothing. The meticulous preparation of our music from its conception to its gromming for presentation to the masses was complete (T’s & C’s applied). There was all the adrenaline of actually performing it through big PA systems, of watching punters lips mime the chorouses. There was the ego of hugs, kisses and shaken hands. There was false grace at the occasional ecstatic shreiks of ‘actually, that was quite good’. It was a buzz.

Again, I ask, why the uneasy silence? I guess that for a moment, basking in a collective afterglow, all together bathing in a symphony of self congratulation and ringing ears, we thought we had it all. Our tin can camera man brought us back to Earth. I refer to his stare again. Apparently there is more to do. It is a hangover we are glad to have.

To the event organisers who made Indie Week Ireland such and enjoyable jaunt around Ireland thank you. To The Darlings of Chelsea, Sixteen Layers, Brazen Angelz, Drea and others, we congratulate you, as we congratulate ourselves for deafening the masses. To Colgate, whose minty freshness has cleaned many pairs of hungover hands, and to the faces in the crowd, familiar and strange, we convey our gratitude for giving us this wonderful afterglow. But most importantly, to the Bandwagon TV cameraman, we thank your stare at the surprise that we thought we were finished. You unwittingly reminded us that we have just begun.

No more uneasy silences.

The first blog is a strange event.

You frantically search for a reference, for a direction. All you find is a vacuum. What follows is a scarcely coherent and rudderless stream of thoughts. To be honest, its flow is as random as the rhythm deaf people dancing: it is thoughts flowing over whitewater rapids conceived in intellectual purgatory and inspirations doldrums. The precedent follows. The chicken has yet to arrive.

I guess what I am trying to say is that:

This is the Egg.

It is a seed. It will grow. It will be coherent. Now, Spy-Fu.

What are Spy-Fu doing? Spy-Fu are working rather hard actually. There is a comfort in the certainty that you are developing something good. We all believe that. We are not a band that wants you to vote a certain way, to save a rare flower, or to wear certain clothes. It is far simpler than that, and much more vital. You see, when we play we get this buzz, this euphoria which stems from a vibe and energy. It is a feeling of being overcome by music. We are passengers: when we perform, it could be said that the music plays us. This is what we want to share. Spy-Fu has a benign ambition to share this feeling with everyone. I say benign because this is not some quasi brain washing exercise. Simply put, we feel so alive to create and perform this that we feel compelled to share it with all. It is above ego, it is above material, and perhaps at its most pure; above contemplation. It is about having a moment where you feel it, but you can't quite articulate what IT is. It is an essence of being human. We are at our most euphoric when we are nakedly exposed to one another as lovers. We want our music to touch a raw naked human emotion in all. Its is our benign ambition not to seek some kind of escape to nirvana, rather a moment we can share with one another where we all whisper a collective sigh to ourselves and reflect that 'this a good moment'.

We are nearly finished rehearsing for our first gigs on the Irish circuit. This is serious shit, we are not zitty 19 year olds talking aspirational bile, we are seasoned, coherent and driven. This is the egg, the chicken that follows will be great, we promise.