When Ignorance Is Bliss first came into the world back in 1995, I wasn’t chasing chart positions or airplay. I was trying to survive.

Little Angels had just called time — not with a bang, but a tangle of industry disillusionment, frayed friendships, and a music scene that was shedding its skin. One minute I was playing the Royal Albert Hall… the next, I was tucked away in a crumbling oast house in the depths of the Surrey countryside, sat with a guitar, a mic, and a head full of ghosts.

This wasn’t a follow-up. It was a reckoning.

The album was made without a plan, without a label, without any safety net. But it had something better: truth.
It’s raw, lo-fi, homegrown. Guitars that cut, vocals that whisper and snap, drums that swing like they’ve time-travelled out of a prohibition-era jazz club. It was my way of working out what the hell had just happened — and finding a reason to keep going.

And now… thanks to you… the album is getting the release I always dreamed of. On vinyl record. Wow!!

You’ve already unlocked the digital experience, but there’s so much more still to come — including the digital storybook this week, a behind-the-scenes companion filled with rare production notes, lyric explanations, old photos, and hand-drawn illustrations by my daughter Evelyn.

The fact that Bryan Adams gave me an incredible opportunity to make this record still blows my mind (all is revealed in the book).

This storybook is personal. It’s a bit rough around the edges. But it’s real — like this record has always been.

And we’re just getting started. More digital experiences will be landing in your inbox soon — bonus tracks, acoustic sessions, voice memos, reflections. All of it created to bring you closer to what this album really is — and who I was when I made it and how I feel about it now, 30 years later.

Thanks again for believing in it — and for giving this lost chapter a new voice.

More soon,

Toby