Stayed up late watching Bernard Purdie videos on YouTube the other night. It left me looking at drum kits but thankfully I restrained myself and didn’t reach for the credit card. There is absolutely no reason for me to fill more space which I need for living in with another music related item. Where will I sleep? Where will I shit? No drums.
We have started the process of creating another EP. Bits and bobs are slowly coming together. Hopefully it won’t be as long a process as the last one, which should have taken a couple of months and ended up taking a year. That was entirely because I am so bleeding slow. At this point I will refrain from saying anything more about it because most of it won’t actually happen. When it does finally arrive you’ll never know what you missed out on. Until the 50th Anniversary editions start coming out.
I found myself in Basingstoke the other day. It took about five hours to get there. Basingstoke has a lot of hanging baskets. I grew up not far from Basingstoke and I endured a low level feeling of dread that someone I knew from way back when would suddenly appear. I think I have shed most of my Southern England sensibilities, even though I have preserved the accent somewhat. Knowing that I was probably surrounded by Tories and UKIPpers and they might spring out and spray me with their racism and bigotry was akin to expecting the sky to fall in. Probably very unfair of me, they would be too frightened by my beard and suntan and would simply call the Police.
Basingstokian: Help! Police! There’s a terrorist walking towards the train station! He’s got a beard and is wearing a sweater that is not suitable for the weather at this time of year at this latitude!
Basingstokian Police Ossifers: Quick! To the riot van!
Me: Death to the hanging baskets!
PC Golightly: Fall back boys, he’s too strong for us!
Captain Tory Wanker: Have no fear, Captain Tory Wanker is here!
I’ll leave that there. I was going to introduce UKIP Catamite Lad but I didn’t want to insult catamites. It’s hard enough being a catamite at the best of times I imagine, without getting dragged into half-baked poorly written imaginary situations, such as the 2015 Conservative Manifesto.
I thaaank yoooooow!