BARD RECORDS

Tag: Apparently

  • We’ve Simplified Things

    We’ve Simplified Things

    Good news.
    You work here now.

    We’ve Simplified Things celebrates the modern miracle of making a service easier by getting the customer to provide it. Fewer staff, longer forms and considerably more efficiency, although nobody likes to dwell on exactly who it became more efficient for. Still, once you’ve finished doing the job, there’s usually a survey waiting to ask how well they did.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    For your convenience.
    Naturally.

    Used to be a service, now it’s making me earn it.
    Funny how convenience is just work in a nicer shirt.
    No one says it’s work, though, that would spoil the little trick.
    You just do a little more now while the service gets more slick.

    Less to ask, less to see,
    more efficient apparently.

    We’ve simplified things, nice and clean.
    Took out all the awkward bits, mostly human beings.
    We’ve simplified things, works a treat.
    You do half the service now, we call that efficiency.
    We’ve simplified things, nothing left to prove.
    How did you do?

    Everywhere you go now, you seem to know the role.
    No badge, no little welcome pack, still somehow on the payroll.
    Nobody showed you anything, still you learned it quick.
    Funny what becomes a skill when someone else won’t do it.

    Quick and clean, nice and neat,
    one more little service off its feet.

    We’ve simplified things, nice and clean.
    Took out all the awkward bits, mostly human beings.
    We’ve simplified things, works a treat.
    You do half the service now, we call that efficiency.
    We’ve simplified things, nothing left to prove.
    How did you do?

    The desks get slightly emptier, the forms get slightly longer.
    The signs say things are easier. Lovely bit of branding.
    Nobody seems surprised now, that’s probably the clever part.
    Take away the person, leave the process, call it smart.

    Nearly done. One thing more.
    Tell us how you found the service you performed.

    We’ve simplified things, nice and clean.
    Took out all the awkward bits, mostly human beings.
    We’ve simplified things, works a treat.
    You do half the service now, we call that efficiency.
    We’ve simplified things, nothing left to prove.
    Everything went brilliantly.
    How did you do?
    Please rate yourself from one to ten.

  • I Don’t Know Yet

    I Don’t Know Yet

    Something happened.
    Good news. Everyone already knows what.

    I Don’t Know Yet is for that awkward period between something happening and anyone knowing what happened. Usually about five minutes. After that there’s a witness, a cousin, someone who knows the family and a bloke in the pub with surprisingly detailed information. By lunchtime the facts are settled. By tomorrow they may even be correct. Waiting seemed an option, but apparently that looks suspicious.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Something happened.
    Don’t know what yet.
    Give it five minutes.

    Someone heard it from a neighbour who had heard it down the road.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who says he knows how this one goes.
    By eleven there’s a reason.
    By twelve someone knows who knew.
    By one it’s common knowledge.
    I’m a little behind the news.
    Saw two people by the doorway.
    One of them was on the phone.
    Couldn’t hear a word they said.
    Still, apparently it’s known.

    Could be this.
    Could be that.
    Bit late now.
    We’ve got the facts.

    I don’t know yet.
    Sorry about that.
    Everybody else seems fairly sure of the facts.
    I don’t know yet.
    Give it a while.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who’s cleared it all up now.
    I don’t know yet.
    Nothing to add.
    I realise that looks quite bad.

    Someone saw a car there earlier.
    Someone says it wasn’t his.
    Someone’s cousin knows the family.
    That’s apparently useful.
    Chap behind the bar remembers something someone said last week.
    Didn’t mean much at the time.
    Means quite a lot since Tuesday.
    Every telling gets a detail.
    Every detail settles in.
    Nobody remembers who said what.
    Everyone remembers him.

    Could be wrong.
    Might be right.
    Anyway…
    that’s what I heard last night.

    I don’t know yet.
    Sorry about that.
    Everybody else seems fairly sure of the facts.
    I don’t know yet.
    Give it a while.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who’s cleared it all up now.
    I don’t know yet.
    Nothing to add.
    Still getting the hang of that.

    More came out this morning.
    Didn’t quite fit what we’d heard.
    Nothing major.
    Just the people, place, the reason and a word.
    Funny thing, by lunchtime that’s what everyone had said.
    Apparently we’d known that bit.
    Must’ve got mixed up in my head.
    Bloke who knew the bloke says that’s the story all along.
    Nobody was actually wrong.
    Some bits just came out wrong.

    There we are.
    Mystery done.
    Nearly what we said at one.

    I don’t know yet.
    Sorry about that.
    Everybody else seems fairly sure of the facts.
    I don’t know yet.
    Give it a while.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who’s cleared it all up now.
    I don’t know yet.
    Nothing to add.
    Everybody else seems miles ahead.
    I don’t know yet.

    I’ll wait till we know.
    Apparently we do.

    Something happened.
    Anyway.

  • Already Happened

    Already Happened

    Nobody tells you it’s the last time.
    They assume you’ll notice.

    Already Happened is about the ordinary endings that never announce themselves. We expect important moments to arrive carrying music, speeches or at least a reasonable amount of ceremony. Most don’t. They arrive disguised as routine: the last familiar journey, the last visit to a place, the last conversation before life quietly rearranges itself around something else. Only later, often years later, do they reveal what they were. Indi-Glo Blue isn’t mourning the past so much as noticing how effortlessly it slips into it. The important days rarely look important while we’re living them. They mostly look like Tuesday.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Funny thing about last times.
    Most of them have already happened.

    There was a road I used to drive
    without deciding where it led.
    Knew the corners, knew the houses,
    knew which lights would change ahead.

    Couldn’t tell you when I stopped.
    Nothing said to pay attention.
    One day it was part of everything.
    Then it wasn’t anymore.

    No closing scene.
    No final line.

    Just something ordinary
    for the final time.

    It already happened.
    Didn’t notice when it went.
    No last look, nothing marked it.
    Just another day
    I didn’t think to keep.

    It already happened.
    I only noticed afterwards.

    There were people I saw constantly.
    Then monthly.
    Then sometimes.

    Nobody fell out.
    Nothing broke.
    Life just got remarkably good
    at filling in the gaps.

    Places changed eventually.
    Shops went, signs came down.
    I still know exactly where things were.
    Which isn’t much use now.

    No warning bell.
    No grand goodbye.

    Just one more ordinary
    final time.

    It already happened.
    Didn’t notice when it went.
    No last look, nothing marked it.
    Just another day
    I didn’t think to keep.

    It already happened.
    I only noticed afterwards.

    There are clothes I stopped wearing,
    songs I somehow stopped putting on.
    A version of me knew every word.
    He seems to have moved along.

    Things I thought I’d always do
    became things I used to do.
    No decision.
    No announcement.

    Apparently that’s enough.

    You expect the important ones
    to look important.

    They don’t.

    They look like Tuesday.
    Half past four.
    Keys on the table.
    Nothing unusual.

    Then years later you realise…

    that was it.

    It already happened.
    Didn’t notice when it went.
    No last look, nothing marked it.
    Just another day
    I didn’t think to keep.

    It already happened.
    No warning.
    Nothing changed.

    Just something I was still doing…

    until I wasn’t anymore.

    Funny thing about last times.
    You usually find out late.

  • Apparently

    Apparently

    Released 27 November 2026

    Apparently

    Most things make perfect sense.
    Right up until you think about them.

    Apparently finds Indi-Glo Blue paying attention to things that probably didn’t require this much attention. The things we keep but don’t want, the strangers we invent stories for, the facts everyone knows before anyone actually knows them, and the small adjustments that somehow become a personality. Nothing here is particularly unusual. That’s rather the point. Life carries on, people remain confidently peculiar, and most of us are far too busy doing exactly the same things to notice.

    TRACKS

    Select any track to read the lyrics and listen to the recording.

    1. It’s Normal Now
    2. Still Me
    3. Getting Toxic
    4. Already Happened
    5. I Don’t Know Yet
    6. We’ve Simplified Things
    7. Put It Back – Coming Soon
    8. Always Said It – Coming Soon
    9. Busy – Coming Soon
    10. Mr Monroe – Coming Soon
    ALBUM NOTES

    Apparently is a collection of observations about ordinary life, peculiar habits and the things people do without thinking too much about why they do them. Some are funny, some are less so, and most seemed perfectly normal until Indi-Glo Blue started paying attention.

    A new track from Apparently will be released here on Bard Records every Tuesday from 29 September, leading up to the full album arriving on streaming platforms on 27 November 2026.

    ← Indi-Glo Blue

  • Getting Toxic

    Getting Toxic

    Everyone should have a voice.
    Just not during my post.

    Getting Toxic quietly observes one of social media’s favourite contradictions. Platforms are celebrated as places for conversation, debate and free expression, right up until the conversation starts travelling in an unexpected direction. Praise counts as engagement. Disagreement somehow becomes “toxicity.” Indi-Glo Blue isn’t interested in online arguments as much as the strange performance surrounding them: announcing departures, explaining breaks, limiting comments for wellbeing, then returning a week later because the algorithm, unfortunately, never learned to miss anybody. It’s a song about wanting an audience more than a discussion, and discovering they’re not quite the same thing.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Million people following, so naturally you’ve got some things to say,
    another little lesson for the people getting life the wrong way.
    Free speech matters, every voice deserves a chance to make some noise,
    funny how it works much better when they’re listening to your voice.

    Thousands tell you “well said”, hundreds tell you that you’re right,
    all that healthy conversation carrying you through the night.
    Then a few start answering, apparently they’ve got opinions too,
    that’s when open conversation gets a little toxic for you.

    Use your voice, speak your mind,
    everyone deserves one…
    the approved kind.

    It’s getting toxic, something’s changed,
    people keep replying in completely different ways.
    It’s getting toxic, can’t you see?
    Everybody gets a voice,
    just preferably not at me.

    Praise is healthy feedback, disagreement’s something else instead,
    one gets hearts and thank-you messages, the other’s better left unread.
    Block another hundred while defending everybody’s right to speak,
    nothing inconsistent there, you’ve made that perfectly clear all week.

    Comments limited for wellbeing, taking time to clear your head,
    seven paragraphs explaining why you’re leaving in a thread.
    Please respect the privacy surrounding everything you’ve shared,
    and thanks for all the lovely public messages that show you care.

    Speak your truth, make it heard,
    everybody matters…
    mind the words.

    It’s getting toxic, something’s changed,
    people keep replying in completely different ways.
    It’s getting toxic, can’t you see?
    Everybody gets a voice,
    just preferably not at me.

    Taking time away now, social media isn’t healthy anymore,
    statement’s been reposted by the team who’ll keep on running things for sure.
    Thanks for all the lovely comments underneath the leaving post,
    nice to know that stepping out can somehow generate engagement most.

    Back to clarify the rumours, back to thank you for support,
    back because the press have taken something slightly out of sorts.
    Then a quiet week of healing till there’s something new to plug,
    welcome back, refreshed and stronger,
    please remember, like and love.

    Stepping back, logging out,
    one more post to tell you all about.

    It’s getting toxic, something’s changed,
    people keep replying in completely different ways.
    It’s getting toxic, can’t you see?
    Everybody gets a voice,
    just preferably not at me.

    It’s getting toxic, time to leave,
    thank you for respecting this announcement in your feed.
    It’s getting toxic, that’s enough…
    See you when I’ve something new to plug.

  • Still Me

    Still Me

    Nothing dramatic.
    Just several increasingly specific requirements.

    Still Me is about the point where preferences quietly become policy. Somewhere along the way, comfortable chairs started mattering, parking became part of the planning and nine-thirty acquired the atmosphere of a minor emergency. None of this counts as getting older, obviously. It is simply the result of spending years discovering exactly what works, then becoming understandably suspicious of anyone suggesting something else. Same person. Same carefree spirit. Just send the postcode first.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Nothing dramatic.
    Just preferences.

    Used to leave the house on impulse, now I like a little warning.
    Ask me Friday about the weekend, that’s already fairly short notice.

    Somewhere quiet would be lovely, somewhere I can hear the table.
    Somewhere chairs were built for sitting, not a test of core stability.

    Nothing changed. I’m still me.
    Just ideally home by three.

    I’m not getting old, I’m getting particular.
    Still up for anything, just nothing too spontaneous.

    Give me a postcode, a time and somewhere sane.
    Nothing’s really different.
    I’ve just changed nearly everything.

    I have opinions now on pillows.
    Apparently that happened.
    I’ve compared two brands of slippers
    and meant every word with passion.

    Weather used to be background.
    Now it affects proceedings.
    Parking used to sort itself out.
    Now it’s part of the meeting.

    Still relaxed. Still carefree.
    Just send the postcode first to me.

    I’m not getting old, I’m getting particular.
    Still up for anything, just nothing too spontaneous.

    Give me a postcode, a time and somewhere sane.
    Nothing’s really different.
    I’ve just changed nearly everything.

    There’s a mug I quite like using.
    No, the other one is wrong.
    There’s a route I always take now.
    No, I don’t need something new.

    I’ve spent years finding what works.
    Why would I start over for you?

    Plans cancelled? Terrible shame.
    I’d already changed my clothes though,
    so perhaps another day.

    Nine-thirty sounds quite late now.
    That’s apparently where we are.
    And I’ve caught myself saying,
    “We’ve got perfectly good food.”

    Still the same. Still alive.
    Just don’t make me leave at five.

    I don’t need much.

    A bit of notice.
    Somewhere quiet.
    Easy parking.
    No surprises.

    And apparently…

    a specific mug.

    I’m not getting old, I’m getting particular.
    Still up for anything, just nothing too spontaneous.

    Give me a postcode, a time and somewhere sane.
    Nothing’s really different.
    I’ve just changed nearly everything.

    I’m not getting old.
    Let’s not make this weird.

    I just think nine-thirty’s late.

    And turn that down.
    It’s ridiculous.