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Leaving London, Learning Nerve

Four shows in, and something’s shifting.

The first gig, my hands were shaking so much I nearly missed the first chord. Second one, I hid behind the lights. Third, I started to believe my own lyrics again. Tonight, number four, I looked up and saw people actually with me, not just in front of me. That… did something.

Before this tour, it felt like life had turned into one long “no”. Rejected tracks, unread messages, ghosted feelings. London was my safe cocoon of black cabs, sarcastic bar staff and late-night diners, but it had also become the place where I replayed every disappointment on loop. Same streets, same stories.

Leaving hurt. London is still my compass, my comfort zone, my forever city. I know I’ll come back. I want to come back. But I also knew if I stayed, I’d keep shrinking to fit old versions of myself.

Out here, something’s different. People actually listen. They tell me about their breakups, their dream bands, their weird families over cheap beer and terrible coffee. They sing along to choruses they’ve never heard before. They remind me that music isn’t a job application – it’s a conversation.

Tour is sanding down my fear and polishing what’s left. Every night I miss London a little more, but every night I become a little less dependent on it. I’m still Nate from London, sure. But I’m also the guy who finally stepped outside the postcode and started to grow up on stage.

One day I’ll drive those old Jaguars back through the city I love. When I do, I want London to meet a new version of me – one that didn’t break from rejection, but tuned it into a better song.

Last but not least: Shout-out to Summer, Mable and my sweet daughter Nellie (love you my heart)