Welcome to the site.
Here, you’ll find two bands:
Zephyr – the classic rock pub and club band, and
Breakout – another pub and club favourite, but this time, we’ve focused on showcasing its original material.

Lastly, you’ll hear a collection of mostly original recordings, written and produced at Oakfield House.

So why “Chronos Exiles”?

Well, Chronos is, of course, time—and most of the musicians here have now retired. But we’re still writing. Still creating.

Let’s dig a little deeper…

Cronos (or Chronos)—a Greek god to whom every living thing must eventually submit. The god of time.
In mythology, Chronos is not only the personification of time but the force that carries us from past to present, relentlessly and without pause.

This site is a living, evolving reflection of my own journey through time—captured in tracks, photos, and memories from years spent as a rock band singer and guitarist.

Most people have only ever known me as a 9-to-5 corporate man, family guy—someone in a suit and tie.
But if that’s how you knew me, you were only seeing one side.

Over the coming weeks, months, maybe even years, I’ll be sharing pieces of a very different life. A life that began every weekend when the tie came off and a much louder, grittier dress code took its place.
A life of over 80 gigs a year across South Wales.
Night after night, weekend after weekend, year after year.
Rock till ya drop.

From Hells Angels clubs to working men’s venues, the shows spanned decades. It’s been a wild ride—one with challenges and even sadness at times, but totally eclipsed by the bizarre comedy moments and euphoric gigs we still talk about 20 years later.

A time when the audience looked to the band for a dopamine hit—not their phones.

These tracks, pictures, and videos are more than just music.
They’re a tribute—to the musicians, the friends, and the family who joined me on this rollercoaster of:

Big, heavy, expensive PA systems
Band uniforms and lighting rigs
Drum kits, amplifiers, mixing desks
Cables, guitars, studio sessions, rehearsals,
… and the ever-changing band line-ups.

Gig after gig, it all came out the back of a big van—lugged at speed into venues, thrashed through the night, then dragged back out at 1 a.m. Rain, hail, snow, or shine.

The gigs. The sweat. The setbacks and triumphs.
It’s all part of a story worth telling.

This site spans from the late 1980s to today.
It features collaborations with some of the finest musicians, songwriters, and friends I’ve had the privilege to work with. I’ve grown through every project, every song—and now, I want to share those stories and spotlight the incredible people who made it all happen.

Why do rock musicians love gigging?

It’s definitely not for the money.
(Just ask my former accountant.)

Is it ego?
Yeah—sometimes. But it’s also so much more.

It’s the escape.
It’s the thrill.
It’s the dive into something far more exhilarating than everyday life.

It’s the low ceilings and sticky floors.
It’s the stage barely big enough to hold the sound you’re about to unleash.

If the crowd isn’t standing on tables by the end of the night, then it’s the band’s job to climb up there first and show them how to scream.

It’s loud.
It’s chaotic.
You’re close enough to feel the crowd’s breath—and in return, you’ve got them in the palm of your hand.

The heat. The noise. The emotion.
The thud-thud of the kick drum in your chest.
The adrenaline.

Everything is amplified—including you.

For two hours, sweat pours off you. You’re fighting for breath, giving every ounce of yourself to the crowd.

It’s pure bliss.
It’s a drug in its own class.
Gigging becomes your life.
And the days in between? Just waiting.

But it’s also a young person’s game.
The late nights. The physical toll.
Eventually, it catches up with you.

One day, you close the van doors for the last time.
You tell yourself you’ll return—but deep down, you know the truth.

You’re now in exile.

You’re a Chronos Exile.

Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
My heartfelt thanks to everyone who’s been part of the journey.

—Steve (Moggz)