nowhere to go, nothing to do

Life, love and happiness. And alien chickens that go moo.

The most popular song on Nowhere To Go, Nothing To Do is Down on the Farm - the first song I wrote after moving to the country to set up a permaculture lifestyle farm.

I’ve always thought of myself as a city-boy, growing up on the outskirts of Manchester at a time when the city was buzzing along as Madchester. It was like growing up next to fair ground, with bright lights, dizzying heights and scary men on the waltzer who would spin you until you screamed for mercy!

However, my first two years were spent in the more idyllic Milnrow and from 16-19 I returned to live in the Pennines at Crowden and Eyam. I wanted to stay living in the countryside and spent the next twenty years spending every moment I could escaping cities.

So when I settled into our rural haven, the music began to flow and first up was this simple song describing what I saw from the deck. I wrote it as a kids song and then things got cosmic. The stars away from the cities and towns are simply stunning and when I spend time gazing at the milky way my mind swims. Surely the ‘conditions for life’ that flourish on earth must exist elsewhere? And physicists speculate of multiverses where surely there could be chickens that go moo?

Because that’s precisely what alien chickens are supposed to do!


Graham Reid |

His unpretentious and often rather simple take on country-rock and pop has some charm for the ordinariness of his worldview which takes straight shots at just hanging around, relationships and a laid-back existence.

On the singalong Friends he sings; "Where would we be without our friends . . . friends will always stick around, friends will never let you down. That's not true, they'll let you down, but they'll always stick around . . . even when they let you down."

Truer words were never spoken. 

The bucolic rural Down on the Farm ("doin' no one harm") where the cows go moo and the chickens go cluck has an amusing twist: there's maybe an alternative universe where the chickens go moo . . .

If Edwards was playing in a local bar or an outdoor festival you'd probably enjoy his take on life, love, happiness and . . . .

An ordinary bloke singing ordinary songs about ordinary stuff, in a way.

You probably haven't heard anything like that in a while.