Some albums are born in studios. Others are born out of deadlines, pressure, or the race for a hit. But October / Due comes from somewhere else entirely. It wasn’t made for algorithms, charts, or marketing plans — it was made because it had to be. Because some stories need to be told not with words, but with melody, memory, and silence.
Dominic has been making music for nearly two decades. That, in itself, may not sound unusual. But it is. Because not everyone who has been making music for twenty years is still doing it with the same hands that have carried each story — writing, performing, producing, mixing, and mastering every note as if building something sacred.
October / Due is not just a collection of songs. It's a collection of lived moments. Of people. Of small miracles. It’s an album that took years not because it couldn’t be finished sooner — but because life had to happen first. Some songs waited patiently in the wings for the right time, the right version of Dominic, the right room to breathe in.
When Music is an Heirloom, Not a Product
This is not a debut. It’s a harvest. A culmination of years of creation, collaboration, and emotional evolution. Dominic didn’t rush this record — he allowed it to become what it needed to be. And in doing so, he gave us something honest.
Take “Miles from Anywhere”, for instance. Written in a tent during a solo trip through Spain, it began as a lonely, intimate moment. You can hear the rain on the tent walls in the background — it’s not a sound effect; it’s the real rain that fell on a musician’s solitude. Later that night, while listening back in a restaurant, Dominic accidentally left his mic on — the ambient sounds of dinner, wine, and quiet voices were captured unintentionally. But he kept it. Because they belonged.
Later, back in England, he passed the song to his sister Sam, who wrote the lyrics and delivered hauntingly emotional vocals. His father, CJFM, improvised a French horn solo. Bass, piano, and more guitars were added. It’s a song born from travel, silence, family, and chance. And it’s unforgettable.
Then there’s “Due”, recorded on the baby grand piano at his parents’ home — the same piano he leaned against as a child. And “Nothing We Can’t Shake”, written and recorded in a single evening, reminding us that not every masterpiece needs time — only clarity.
Collaboration as an Act of Love
October / Due is personal, yes. But it’s also deeply communal. Not in the commercial “feat.” sense, but in the way a family tells stories around a fire. Dominic’s sister Sam appears on multiple tracks, not just as a vocalist, but as a true co-writer — someone who knows the soul behind the song. His father brings warmth and depth with a horn solo that feels like a conversation. His brother bENESKI remixes “The Flaming Moth” with reverence, not reinvention.
Longtime collaborators and friends like Joe Herd (drums and production), Nick Herd (guitar, songwriting), Simon Townsend, and Guy Logan all add their fingerprints to the record — not as guests, but as part of the emotional lineage of Dominic’s sound. This isn’t a “project.” This is a shared memory.
No Image. No Gimmicks. Just Truth.
There are no tour dates. No headline shows to promote the album. No big campaign. And that’s not a flaw — it’s a statement.
This is an album made for people who still listen. People who put on headphones and sit still. Who walk at night with music in their ears. Who let the songs grow, track by track, listen by listen.
Dominic will be the first to admit he’s not chasing perfection. He creates for himself. Because if it doesn’t resonate with him first, how could it ever matter to anyone else? And when something does resonate — when you connect with a track like “In Deeper Water” or “That Feeling’s Back Again” — it’s not because it was designed to be “relatable.” It’s because it was true.
This album won’t shout to be heard. But if you let it in, it just might stay with you for a long, long time.
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