My name is Johnny McDaid. My mother still calls me John. I was called “John” after my father and he after his but then they called his father Jack. I have a certificate of my grandfather Jack’s in my studio - for his time in the war in Ireland. It says to John McDaid. We do that it seems in my family; call the first boy John then every other generation of Johns is found a new name. If I ever have a son, I would like to call him John and he will (perhaps) be Jack. I like both names. I am from a town called Derry. It is in the Northwest of Ireland. Some people call it Londonderry. I call it Derry. They do that in my country sometimes; call a town a name and then someone else calls it something else. People get confused. I have spent most of my grown up(ish) life in a band. We were called Vega4. Nobody called it anything but Vega4 although some pushy people in marketing tried to get us to change the name between records. We didn’t. Our website used to say Veg4 and they shouted at us when we asked them to change it. So, we left it. I loved being in a band. I gave all of me to it. My mother missed me. Everyone I loved missed me. One day a manager told me that it was over. I decided to retreat back to where I was from. Not Derry, but into myself. The self that had been hidden by the massiveness of everything around me. Noise and expectations. That’s where I’ve been. Looking there and finding. One day I woke up and I missed playing music. I missed saying stuff. For the last 8 years I have spent more time in Record deals than out of them. It cost me a lot (time and money and love) to get out of the deals. They didn’t want to let me go but they didn’t want to help me stay either you see. Fear you see. Like a lover who no longer loves his wife but keeps her in his house like a trophy, barren and alone. A friend saved me from the house. It is on fire now and the husband doesn’t know yet. It’ll burn down soon and we will build a new one. I have always had good friends. I don’t get on with cynics. So, here I am again and I am taking questions. I might answer them. I used to have a press agent (some people call them publicists) who wrote stuff for me to fill in the holes where stuff needed to be put. We learn to ask permission. We forget that we are enough. At this moment as I write I am listening to to Ebow - Sigur Ros. There is sun on me from outside the window. This will pass as every moment does but is a good moment. There is change about. It is autumn. Some people call that fall. People get confused. I am very happy to be here. Thank you for reading this. You didn’t have to. to be continued...