TWELVE TONE TO KEVIN BACON
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?