Unseen Friends, 

We write you from the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean where we hunt plastic-bags and ancient aliens.  Herein find news of tours, albums, singles, and of course SPIDERS. Yes, faint heart, it’s the latest HANDSOME FAMILY NEWSLETTER



HEY!
EUROPEAN TOUR DATES
APRIL/MAY 2020….
Most of these dates are with 
the amazing Daniel Knox supporting. 

WED 22 APRIL

Goteborg, SE - Musikens Hus: 

BUY TICKETS

   

THU 23 APRIL

Stockholm, SE - Bryggarsalen

BUY TICKETS

   

FRI 24 APRIL

Malmo, SE - Folk A Rock

BUY TICKETS

   

SAT 25 APRIL

Copenhagen, DE - Hotel Cecil

BUY TICKETS

   

MON 27 APRIL

Hamburg, DE - Knust

BUY TICKETS

   

TUE 28 APRIL

Groningen, NL - Oosterpoort

BUY TICKETS

   

WED 29 APRIL

Amsterdam, NL - Paradiso Noord

BUY TICKETS

   

FRI 1 MAY

Lessines, BE - Roots & Roses

Festival (without Daniel Knox)

BUY TICKETS

   

SAT 2 MAY

Brighton, UK - St Lukes Church

BUY TICKETS

   

SUN 3 MAY

Exeter, UK - Phoenix

   

SUN 4 MAY

Cardiff, UK - Globe

BUY TICKETS

   

WED 6 MAY

Dublin, IE - Liberty Hall

BUY TICKETS

   

THU 7 MAY

Belflast, UK - Festival Marquee, 
Custom House Square

BUY TICKETS

   

SAT 9 MAY

Glasgow, UK - Community Central Hall

BUY TICKETS

   

SUN 10 MAY

Gateshead, UK - Sage

BUY TICKETS

   

MON 11 MAY

Birmingham, UK - Hare & Hounds

BUY TICKETS

   

TUE 12 MAY

Manchester, UK - St Philip's Church

BUY TICKETS

   

THU 14 MAY

Leeds, UK - The Wardrobe

BUY TICKETS

   

FRI 15 MAY

Norwich, UK - Norwich Arts Centre

BUY TICKETS

   

SAT 16 MAY

Bristol, UK - Redgrave Theatre

BUY TICKETS

   

SUN 17 MAY

London, UK - EartH

BUY TICKETS

   
HEY! 
We released some cover songs. 
Brett did most of the work. 
Have a listen: 



Thank you for keeping us keeping on...
xo Rennie (& Brett)

CEILING DREAMS
Have you ever stared up at a ceiling and mapped out where you’d place all your furniture in a ceiling-as-floor world? All my life I’ve taken great pleasure in mapping out dream homes amidst heating ducts. I’ve built breakfast nooks around the tall chains of hanging lamps and filled a bubble bath in the dip of a sky light. My imaginary bed is always placed in the most tangled knot of wires and pipes I spy above. I imagine I’ll be safe there to have the best sleep of my life.
This is why I hate dropped ceilings— those modern expanses of off-white panels and recessed lighting that hide the ‘real’ ceiling above. Americans are trained to love dropped ceilings almost as much as air fresheners. It’s hard to break away.

 And so… Passing through our second bathroom/hallway one morning (i.e. the second and lesser of our two bathroom/hallways) I noted that one of the faucets was leaking a little glistening drip.
I paused a moment and presto: the pearly-white demon had me in her square American jaws. 
“I’ll have it fixed in an hour,” I thought.

By nightfall our second bathroom/hallway was no longer functioning as either. I’d followed one repair after the next in a spiral of increasingly delusional grasps at bathroom perfection. And yet…
Scrape, caulk, paint, scrub, sand... restrained gold, antique gold, summer gold, winter wheat…25 brushes, tape rolls rolling, ruined clothes, bloody hands, hair splattered, eyeglasses bent. 

Five days later I was up on a stepladder reaching out with a roller attached to a long pole that had a paint brush taped to its very end. I was close to finishing (an hour at most). Just that one spot…And that one… And there. I am sad to say: it took three spiders for me to stop.
Spider 1. Quarter-sized and fast, she leaped onto the door I was painting ‘autumn gold’ in furious roller strokes. She ran from my paint edge then down a thread to the floor at amazing speed. I saw her hit the tile and continue on towards the kitchen. I hope she made it. My glasses were too bent to keep a bead on her. Besides I was almost done. Another hour at most.
Spider 2. A wee black dot barely visible from where I crouched down on the tile beneath the vanity scrubbing under the cabinets with a heady mix of paint thinner and bleach. The little guy ran from me then lingered between the soap bucket and the paint cans, unsure which way to go to escape my insanity. I put down my scrub brush and ‘saved him’. I got a juice glass over and a piece of junk mail under and charioted the spider out the back door. It was only as I tossed the little creature into the cold night air that I realized two things: 
A. It was dark which meant I’d been cleaning the floor for about 12 hours and
B. That spider wouldn’t survive long out there. It was winter.
“It’s natures way,” I thought and went back to scrubbing. It was an hour later that the idea came to me that somehow, someway, the next spider I spotted I would really ‘save'. I'd carry the spider to our sunroom and place it gently atop a potted plant’s soil. I imagined the beautiful web she’d weave between the spikes of my chocolate sativa and the stubby fronds of my aloe. I kept scrubbing.
Spider 3: Ran right into the line of wet paint I’d just rolled down the side of the medicine cabinet (which hadn't needed repainting until I splattered paint all over it). The spider ran into the wet color and froze. I put down my brush and watched the tiny body crumble and disappear into the glisten of ‘antique gold’ latex semi-gloss. Finally, then, I put down my paint brush and paused.

This was (and is) a perfectly fine spider-filled second bathroom/hallway even if half of it is now winter wheat and the rest is antique gold. The tile floor is still printed with the trail of my paint-soaked socks. I haven’t put away any of the paint cans and the faucet, of course is still leaking.
Actually the faucet leaks just a little bit worse than it did before. Surely the spiders need a drink now and then? 
Rennie