https://www.facebook.com/skypalajan/videos/1100880207049913

I wrote this song in 2014 when I lived in London and my boss followed some specific rules that had not been allowing me to travel back home at the end of the year. It is some kind of my Christmas song. You won’t hear any happy jingle rhythm but melancholic melodies telling a story of mine. You can either listen to the soundcloud at the bottom or click here for the video.

That year, I hadn’t been home already for twelve months so it was very intense, especially because my grandmother was terminally ill. I worked in London, West Hampstead, in a shop developing and printing films, editing photos, taking pictures and selling stuff. My boss needed to have someone having the shop opened on a Christmas afternoon and I was kind of a new one in there, so, according to the contract, I had to stay and do the job.

I was so worried that it could really happen. Those days I was staying at the hostel in Notting Hill. It was not very homey way of living but the place wasn’t bad. First I shared a room with five great young adventurers that had been staying there already for two months. They had very messy room, but in this boyish way. One was from Denmark, one from Jamaica, one from Italy and two from New Zeland . We used to hang out together, they were really fun, they liked my guitar and my blues. I stayed there for over three weeks but then I was moved to a different room with not too friendly strangers, because I had a little fight with a hostel keeper. It was not really a conflict, I just argued him because he didn’t respect the people’s privacy. It was very big and actually heavy crowded hostel and it was easy to see they didn’t care too much about making their customers feeling welcomed. You could show them one simple disagreement and they told you „you can pack and leave if you want“ very easily.

During my free time I was trying to practice guitar and do some street busking. I found a place with a great acoustic for my resophonic guitar. It was right under the bridge of Lambeth, in a little tunnel. (see the picture down here, from the google maps). I loved the place, the sound was so wide and loud. I felt like a little cloud being a part of the weather, whatever song I played. I loved to play this screaming blues songs covers. One of them was my favourite „Soul Of a Man“ by Blind Willie Johnson. It is a great song and I played it in such cool tunning e,c,g,C,G,C. I play that song here

One day, after I played that song and I kept the tunning for a while and jammed along a little bit. It was such amazing sound down in that underpass. I put my capo (i bought for my first buskered money) on a 4th fret and suddenly I played this song „Get Back Home“. I played only the beginning part with the index finger and some soloing around for almost an hour. I loved it so much! It totally hypnotized me. I finished the song back in my room at the hostel.

Why I sing about an old man advicing me to pray to the fullmoon? When I was a little boy I believed, that in a cold winter evening, when you notice there’s a fullmoon outside, you immediately get your shoes on and go out to find some good place for watching it and saying your wishes, that can come true when you don’t tell anyone. Now I can tell about it, because the dream actually came true. I got the permission to go back home. So I made it and spent Christmas with my family. Unfortunately, I can’t say it was a pure happy end. I had taken a visit to my sick grandmother at the hospital and the day after, she died. I was so sad. After new year I came back to London. In the morning I got to my hostel room, packed all my stuff and went with it to my work to tell my boss what happened and that I decided to go. He listened what a poor and pale me was telling him and then he gave me a big hug and wished me good luck. That morning I made it to the airport with no ticket booked and I think I got that luck he wished me. In one hour, there was an airplane going from London to my homeland, Slovakia, with just one free seat available to book.

Now, after six years, I’m still hearing the echo surrounded around my head, the smell of the cold river Thames, the days of being lost and found again. I will never stop telling this story, not only for this song, but for all the great people I met. Guys who treated me as they were my old friends, Kamuran, Igor and Georgia, who helped me to uncover my heart and to make me feel like being someone somewhere with someone. I’ve never forgotten a gentleman, a teacher, that I used to meet down in the kitchen every evening at the hostel. He listened to my problems about struggling with reading books in late hours, because of other roomates, that wanted to sleep. One day he brought me a special light attachable to books with a funny robotic head opening before the light went on. I’ll never forget the feeling I had when he just gave it to me. And so many others, so many musicians, writers and artists at all. I felt so happy I met them but I’m also so sorry for I’d had to leave. I just had to. I knew it was the end of the story.