Still with the underlying need to shake off the stifling effect of years of collaboration I embarked on my second album: The aptly titled The Liberty Project.

I decided to find my niche, so to speak. I found that I was good at the chordal arrangement thing and could write some interesting tunes. I rocked my head off on the opening, title track and then went into a quasi-Latin vibe. There are some epics here, which contained some very dynamic musical arrangements. I used some cleaner guitar sounds in places in order to let the other instruments breathe. I was also in danger of becoming a competent keyboard-player (although many would argue with that statement).

Platonic (as in Plato - Politics again you see) was structured as a steady Latin chill, which culminates in searing rock guitar. Wonderful Life is just a happy tune. In fact it is "guaranteed to make you smile" (Tony Currie, Radio Six International). I was now receiving top-notch reviews from other revered critics such as Lord Litter in Berlin and Don Campau in San Francisco. It was now time to put my music through the acid test: of a live situation.

It was strange how the shift from side to centre-stage proved to be so nerve wracking. After all, I was merely doing what I had done effortlessly for years. Rarely had I experienced nervousness but now, I suppose, it was personal: the music was all mine, and it defined my life. We were almost one and the same thing. However, from the delivery of the opening chords of The Liberty Project everything changed. All of my apprehension vanished. The band was great and the audience loved it. My tunes had proved themselves on stage which is where, in my opinion, it matters.

The title track of The Liberty Project is currently being used as the theme to the Friday evening rock show on Radio Six International and the plaudits continued to flow. Despite all of this, however, I felt that I had not yet peaked. There were certain areas of Liberty which I was less than happy with. A well known producer once said to me that anyone who doesn't doubt themselves is a fool, and I have certainly met a few of those. Being one's own greatest critic is, in my opinion, an artistic imperative. How else could one improve? I decided to take it a step further.