Dear Bill, Stig and Brendan,

If I can find the first two lines of a song, then I can write the third, and if I can write the third, the fourth comes without too much effort. These four lines make up a verse, more or less, and if I can write one verse, I can manage two, and then the third verse writes itself – and I have a song. The hard part for me, the most agonising and uncertain part, the part that keeps me up at night and makes me a complete pain in the arse through the day, is in the initial creation. That is, the unpredictable arrival of those first two lines. Within those few words lies the “beautiful idea’” and the inception of that idea is fundamentally unstable, unreliable, and deeply mysterious.

My songs are not written to convey a particular point of view. I do not come to the page with a specific concern – they are not political in that sense, they are not didactic and do not ask anything of you. Instead, they focus on exploring this mysterious, emergent idea which, if pursued, reveals at its core a necessary, universal message and brings an entire world into existence, opening up a new and unknown terrain. It is in this rich and uncertain world that we can discover fresh ways to bring comfort to our collective hearts’ travails. But I cannot predict when this idea will arise, which is the agony of it, nor do I understand why it exists in the first place. What I do know is, as a songwriter, I must see this idea through to the end. It’s the least I can do, Bill! Whatever force leaves these occasional gifts at my doorstep knows I won’t abandon the idea, won’t say “screw it!” Perhaps that’s why, after all these years, the ideas continue to come. I say this with the utmost caution, knocking on a whole forest of wood.

Stig, I wouldn’t typically offer or advise this, you should probably work it through yourself, but as this song seems to be blocking your progress, if you want to send me your first verse, I could suggest a second. That might inspire you to write the third and get you back on track. Worth a try?

Brendan, I wish I could write political songs, there are some great ones out there. It would all be much simpler, more certain, and dependable – get up in the morning, go online, get enraged, turn it into verse, inspire thousands, change the world – but I’m just not that kind of songwriter. I’m not trying to save the world, Brendan, I’m trying to save the soul of the world.

Love, Nick

P.S. If you look at the opening lines of, say, the first four songs from Wild God, you can see what I mean by the “beautiful idea” opening an imaginative world.

“On the shore of the lake, the old man sat and watched a woman bathing”

“Once upon a time, a wild god zoomed
All through his memory, in which he was entombed”

“Ushering in the week, he knelt down
Crushed his brother’s head in with a bone”

“I woke up this morning with the blues all around my head
I felt like someone in my family was dead”

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