Spirit of Play

So here's a wee bit of Scott Walker ("Help, I'm trapped in a big, heavily-made-up lady's eye") to help remind us how to spend the pluvial season. There was a Grauniad feature about this recently, songs about rain, that sort of thing, can't find the link to the finished article, sorry, just using my analog memory (no skool like the old skool). Anyway, this song was on that list, as well as lots of other good ones, and it reminded me. I, of course, have been a devotee for years (no skool like . . .), she said loftily, ever... ... continue ...

I thought it would be nice to mark Valentine's Day with a little themed blog for all you lovers out there. It also gives me a chance to get all evangelical about two of my musical superheroes. If I could choose to play piano like anyone, it would either be Myleene Klass in those hair adverts where she's barefoot (by the way, do you know how she pretends to be "classically trained" at The Royal Academy or wherever? She went to the Junior Saturday School, not the actual academy. God she's a cretin) or Bill Evans. I love the way... ... continue ...

. . .playing in London's trendy Soho. Evening started with Will and Michael being approached by youths (estimated age: 14), who shyly mumbled "Where's the red light?". As if there were only one, bless 'em. So Will and Michael sent them off to see some of their very special friends - ah, those were the days - no, hang on, they called a local red-cheeked bobby who sent the young scamps off with a flea in their ear. Or they mowed them down with the lasers set to stun. Can't remember. So we proceeded to get onstage, tangle up our... ... continue ...

urdle kurdle smurfle. be-burfle phooey! ... continue ...