⭐ Song Review: Sailing Away

A tender, up-tempo pop ballad about fear, regret, and the things left unsaid

Sailing Away is an uplifting yet bittersweet pop ballad that captures one of the most universal human struggles: the fear of speaking your heart. Wrapped in bright, melodic energy, the song tells an emotionally vulnerable story of someone who lets love slip through their fingers simply because they weren’t brave enough to say the words that mattered.

From the opening scene — “Standing by the shore and feeling sorry for myself” — we’re placed at the edge of something ending. The shoreline becomes both a real setting and a metaphor for emotional distance, separation, and retreat. The person he loves wanted more; he couldn’t give it. Now the tide is taking him somewhere else, and all he can do is watch.

The lyrics are filled with striking imagery. Lines like:
“Life goes on and flowers die, and rivers keep on flowing to the sea”
and
“I am just a grain of sand on a beach of broken men who’ve been set free”
give the song a poetic weight beneath its bright rhythmic pulse. The metaphors are gentle but powerful — the world moves forward, nature keeps its rhythm, and he is small in comparison, lost somewhere between regret and acceptance.

The central theme — emotional avoidance — is captured beautifully in the recurring refrain:
“I’m sailing away…”
Here, “sailing away” becomes a confession. It’s not adventure; it’s escape. It’s choosing distance over vulnerability, motion over honesty. The melody lifts, but the truth sinks deeper with each repetition.

One of the standout moments comes in a quietly devastating line:
“It’s better to be here beside the water, writing songs you’ll never hear.”
This sums up the character perfectly — someone more comfortable expressing feelings indirectly, through music, than confronting the person who inspired them.

The song even acknowledges this difficulty outright:
“I’ve never had a problem with the melody, but the words are so much harder as you’ll see.”
It’s a clever, self-aware touch that mirrors the songwriting process itself.

As the song progresses, the metaphors evolve — floating away, sailing away, drifting over the rainbow — each one a different way of saying I can’t face you, even though I love you.
And the final verse lands the emotional truth with gentle clarity:
“I wish I was brave enough to tell you what you mean to me, my love.”

In the end, Sailing Away is a beautifully crafted blend of upbeat pop sensibility and emotional honesty. Its bright musical energy contrasts with its vulnerable storytelling, creating a bittersweet tension that feels relatable and genuine. It’s a song about fear, regret, longing — and the quiet ache of letting someone go not because you don’t care, but because you couldn’t find the courage to tell them you do.

A heartfelt, memorable track that stays with you long after the final refrain of “I’m sailing away…” fades into the distance.

Sailing Away is the third tack on Nicks fourth album And Now We See.

 

⭐ Song Review: Faded

A heartbreakingly intimate piano ballad that captures the slow, aching blur of grief

Faded is a deeply moving piano ballad that explores grief not as a single moment, but as a long, shadowed landscape — one filled with loneliness, exhaustion, blurred memories, and the quiet search for something resembling hope. The song is based on the real experience of a young woman who lost her partner suddenly, and that truth pours through every line.

The opening verse immediately captures the emotional weight:

“It’s hard to be defined, the years have not been kind / She should have had it all but it’s faded.”
These lines set the tone for a song that is not afraid to name the numbness and disorientation that come with sudden loss. The world around her feels drained of colour, and the life she should have been living has slipped out of view.

The imagery is vivid and cinematic —

A sentimental tune that fails to fill the room,
A photograph that shimmers in the moonlight.
These moments show a woman surrounded by memories that no longer comfort her, only echo back what has been taken.

The second verse cuts even deeper, painting a painfully honest portrait of coping mechanisms and late-night rituals:
“She pours another wine, it seems to pass the time / But time is often so overrated.”
Her friends care, but she can’t let them in. She wants to be alone, yet doesn’t trust her own solitude. She is lost between what she needs and what she can bear.

One of the most powerful moments in the song is the whispered tenderness of the Goodnight section:
“Goodnight, and don’t forget the feeling / Goodnight, and don’t forget to dream him…”
It’s gentle, devastating, and honest — tucked between exhaustion, memory, and the brutal crash of morning light when reality returns.
“And then the morning light comes crashing in — it’s still faded.”
This is grief at its truest: the world resets, but she cannot.

The bridge shifts the perspective outward, acknowledging the people who care for her:
“Everyone you’ve ever known has shed a tear for you, my friend…
They silently resign themselves to be there for you in the end.”
It’s a beautiful reflection of how grief is shared — even when the one suffering most feels unreachable.

The repeated plea —
“There’s a million reasons why… hold on, hold on”
— becomes the emotional spine of the song, a fragile but determined thread of hope. It's not triumphant; it's survival. And that makes it real.

The closing verse returns to the idea of fading, both painful and poetic:
“It’s hard to be defined, for the people we leave behind…
She used to have it all, but the writing was on the wall.”
Yet within this resignation lies recognition — that darkness changes shape over time, and even grief eventually softens at the edges.

Faded is a stunningly crafted piece of songwriting: intimate, vulnerable, and emotionally precise.
The mournful piano underpins every moment with quiet grace, while the lyrics take the listener through the unspoken truths of loss — the nights that never end, the mornings that hit too hard, and the slow rediscovery of permission to feel, to cry, and to keep going.

It’s a song that lingers long after it ends.
And like grief itself, it leaves you changed.

Faded can be streamed on all platforms now and is the second track on Nick's new album - And Now We See

 

⭐ Song Review: What Do You Do When You Don’t Know What to Do

Performed by Nick Ryder, Steve Dutton & Roger Kinder

“What Do You Do When You Don’t Know What to Do” is a riff-fuelled rocker that blends sharp songwriting with standout performances from a trio of musicians who bring real personality to the track. It’s the kind of song that hits you with energy first, and meaning second — and both hit hard.

From the very first guitar line, the track announces itself with confidence. The core riff — performed by Nick Ryder, who also wrote and produced the song — drives everything forward with a restless, propulsive momentum. It mirrors the lyrical theme perfectly: even when life feels chaotic, something in us keeps pushing ahead. Nick’s multi-instrumental foundation forms the backbone of the song, giving it both structure and edge.

The lyrics themselves are a cascade of vivid scenarios and impossible choices:
“What do you do when the walls fall down…?”
“…when the lights go out…?”
“…when the monster comes…?”
The song manages to be philosophical, anxious, funny, and painfully honest all at once. Each verse is a new snapshot of uncertainty, until the chorus delivers the universal truth:
“What do you do when you don’t know what to do?”
It’s a line that every adult feels in their bones.

On drums, Steve Dutton brings tight, expressive playing that lifts the song far above standard riff-rock territory. His performance gives the track its heartbeat — dynamic where it needs to punch, restrained where space is required. There’s a clarity and confidence in his drumming that makes the whole arrangement feel bigger and more alive.

Lead guitarist Roger Kinder adds the perfect finishing touch. His leads cut through the mix with both precision and emotion, offering melodic answers to the lyrical questions being asked. Roger’s tone sits beautifully above Nick’s rhythm work — tasteful, expressive, never overplaying, yet adding the exact spark the song needs.

Lyrically, the final section turns into a clever commentary on modern overwhelm: contradictions from politicians, a sister calling with life’s latest drama, a neighbour shouting through a metaphorical megaphone. It’s funny, chaotic, and instantly recognisable — a snapshot of exactly why the song’s central question matters.

Taken together, the performances create a track that feels polished yet raw, thoughtful yet urgent. Nick Ryder’s writing and production anchor the song, but it’s the chemistry between Nick, Steve, and Roger that brings it full circle. Every player contributes something essential.

In the end, “What Do You Do When You Don’t Know What to Do” is a powerful blend of lyrical honesty and musical craftsmanship — a rock song with brains, heart, and the kind of groove that stays with you long after the last chord rings out.

What Do You Do When You Don't Know What To Do is the opening track on Nicks new album And Now We See

 

🎵 NEW RELEASE: “Stay With Me Now” – Lisa March 🎵

We’re so proud to share something truly special. 💛

“Stay With Me Now” — written by Nick Ryder and performed with heartfelt emotion by Lisa March, with Steve Dutton on drums and Nick playing all other instruments — is a song that speaks straight to the heart.

The song was inspired by a conversation with Kevin Petch and explores the question: What would you say to someone you love as they near the end of their life?
It’s a reflection on love, loss, and the moments that matter most.

The chorus carries hope and light:
🎶 “Stay with me now, ’cause we’ve still got songs to sing, we’ve got bells to ring…”
But as the song unfolds, Lisa’s vulnerability shines through:
💔 “’Cause I can’t let go, I still need you so.”

Lisa and Nick have known each other for over 30 years — they performed together in a band in the early 2000s, but this is the first time they’ve collaborated on original material.

Nick says:

“I’ve always thought Lisa had an amazing voice, but I’d only ever heard her sing cover versions. Hearing her sing original material takes her performance to another level.”

“Stay With Me Now” is a song of strength, love, and holding on — a reminder to treasure every moment and every melody.

🎧 Listen now on all streaming platforms:

#StayWithMeNow #LisaMarch #NickRyder #SteveDutton #KevinPetch #NewMusic #OriginalSong #SingerSongwriter #EmotionalMusic #CancerAwareness #StayWithMeNowSong

Link to stream the song