Now thats nearly as good a name for a band as call me colin but sadly the key driver behind the title is that we won’t be able to entertain the bar staff at MOHO in Manchester this week as the headline act have allegedly had to pull their tour given a lack of interest. That’s a shame, a load of crusties playing medieval instruments sounded well worth a view and needless to say we’re gutted. Not nearly as gutted as we were to find out that we have to be in Lancaster for 6.30 on friday but we’re going to make up for it by gatecrashing the TDM’s special anniversary dinner with our mascot in chief the one and only Chasbar (nanu nanu do I hear you cry? No? Shame on you, you’re on a highway to hell!).
Been doing some more recording tonight, one day we will have something to show for it, and the shiny brand spanking (nothing to do the the TDM’s anniversary or Paul’s inability to sit down this week) new version of What in the World is coming together. Its starting to remind of Low period Bowie (think the feel of sound and vision) more and more as we play and develop it and it reinforces the overall impression that our “sound” is moving on (no not a reference to a Bowie song from Lodger - err or is it, am I in fact breaking my cover as an undercover firearms dibble?).
Some great pics knocking around on facebook (which I have managed to detach myself from for 6 months now) from last friday’s bash at Fac251. Who is that ugly fella on bass and why can’t we buy masks that fit (‘cos these were ten bob each at poundland and we’re cheapskates) may worry you for a while but, hey, c’est la vie! Talking of masks someone robbed the RRTB’s - or rather mine but he gave me his as I don’t think it fitted with his camera slurping fetish - and so there’s only the 3 of us wearing one (each that is given that we couldn’t get one which would maintain a socially acceptable distance to fit in the icewgaon). It were a “cor blimey trousers ap the apple and pears larff guvnah, me ol’ marns a dustmarn, get them facking knees ap mar brahn” as the TDM would posit - apologies for the poor translation from the original cockney which, written phonetically (like them phoenicians used to write), looks a bit like “ah ate babies ah do unless pickled with ah side of luvverlyjubberleyeelsnmash”.
Enough! After all if its true that cockneys begin at Northenden then D, RRTB and TDM could be equally said to suffer the same dialectic disability that sees them being sick when they need to get clean and fully believing that bath, maths and glass - unlike car and park - are spelt with an “r”.
Err, medication time now. Until next time when I will be refreshed from receiving some heavy duty care in the community then Ice on folks call me colin. G’wan, I don’t mind!
