I'll try to explain. I don't want to rant about the evil of the music industry, of which there are many. Nor do I want to sound bitter and cynical, which I'm not. For any aspiring bands out there, here is a scene you may know well, or may come to know shortly. There is this phase known as "unsigned", which every band must exist in and pass through if they ever want to be successful. It's a funny world, where dads in pub-rock bands play alongside 13 year-olds doing Greenday covers, followed by an earnest singer-songwriter or and experimental/joke act. It can be a whole lot of fun, first of all playing to your friends and then (hopefully) watching the audiences grow, until that milestone moment in which you realise that you don't recognise most of the faces in it. It can also be gruelling and soul-destroying, travelling the length of the country to play a tiny pub to four or five disinterested people. However you look at it, it's a real challenge and for most bands has one purpose which when achieved makes it all worthwhile.

So what's the deal with getting a record contract? From our experiences at least, the concept of "getting signed" begins to parallel the eternal heaven (with its complement of virgins) offered to Muslim martyrs. After the struggle and hardship of the unsigned circuit, a record deal finally secured with one of the Holy Five, one would then sit back, knock out a few tunes and enjoy U2-style fame and riches. What we quickly realised, after the initial few weeks of sheer excitement and relief, is that getting signed is actually the beginning, not the end. A whole new world of record-industry politics, release-schedules, and playlists opened up. What happens after this, you might know about. This is when you get upgraded from a Transit van into a splitter bus, when you get promo videos and paid trips abroad. All said, it's quite an adventure. You look back at your unsigned days and think "Thank God we made it here." It's sort of like getting up to the £32,000 mark in Millionaire - you know you won't have to leave with just a grand for your efforts. Only it's not quite like that, because you can of course get dropped by your label. Which we did (and I won't go into the reasons or justifications, it's all a bore).

So...I don't know if this little story is providing any insight into our decision. I'm just trying to convey the disappointment of being back down to £1,000, with the prospect of having to face Chris Tarrant's unctuous questionings all over again. As we saw it, there were two options available. One - do the unsigned thing again, back to the small time, transit and friends' floors and playing the A&R game and all that goes with it. Or two - gather together all our latest and greatest material and put out a great album which would see us go out on a high, instead of a faded and beaten old man of a band, lurking around a Barfly near you.

Sincerest apologies to all those who didn't get to see us live. To the Japanese fans whom we never really got to see. Thank you all for being a part of this great time.

Michael Bromley, January 2005