Tuesday, February 22, 2005


Or perhaps I'm being unduly harsh.

After all, there was a time when Chris and I couldn't stumble to our feet and attempt a drunken, half-arsed, friday night 'boogie' in The Electric Studios, Yeovil, without some idiot playing "Arcana" by Edgard Varese.

One second we'd be shuffling our lager-addled caucasian butts to "Going Back to my Roots", the next we'd be encircled by belligerent trombonists and a cabal of wild-eyed rattle-welding percussionists intent on paying us an eighteen-minute atonal 'tribute'...

Sure, it's kinda flattering the first few times it happens, but sometimes Chris and I just want a bit of, y'know...Us-Time, without being hemmed in by a full string section, a trio of marimba players and some bloke brandishing an air-raid siren.

Soooo, what d'ya say, fellas? Howsabout you just back off and give the lady and me a little air, huh?


Had to laugh at an interview with Kevin Bacon in yesterday's paper: he was moaning that he and his wife couldn't go out dancing any more 'cause everytime they went near a dancefloor the DJ would bang on the "Footloose" soundtrack and people would form a circle round them...

Okay, gotta ask: what kinda clubs are they going to, where DJs just happen to have copies of the Footloose OST hanging round...?

It just doesn't fucking bear thinking about.