This is serious. Two ex-JPMorgan guys, mixed up with a big whale or something. (Not a shark, babe, with such teeth, dear.) They'll probably be taken into custody within two or three days. 'Oh, I hope not, boss. Haven't they suffered enough?' We've all suffered, son. If you're living in the world, you're suffering. Think of the Preacher. 'What, in Pale Rider?!' No, silly. Ecclesiastes. 'Oh.' / The British cops are going to get Jav and Jules and then hand them over to the Feds in America. 'Better than the kids in America, Mikey.' Yeah ... I suppose so. 'You know, that song.' Whatever, Voice.
Anyway, that's all the news. Fuck tha news, eh? It's summer. No one is interested. All the decent people are on holiday. Except me, of course. I could only manage three days in St Ives this year. Never mind. I'm waiting for my ship to come in. Then every day will be a holiday. 'I thought you were going to be working really hard on your songs, for fifteen years?' Maybe five years, I don't know. I haven't even finished my demo yet. I've still got the cubital shit in my hand, but my hand is stronger now - so I can play the guitar a bit. / I was watching a video on YouTube the other day of some guy playing the Yamaha keyboard I want. It was pretty cool, man. 'Nice, Mikey.' It wasn't jazz, Voice.
I've played My Heart on guitar close to two thousand times, I reckon. And the good thing is, I've started to play it exactly the same way each time. So it seems the song has found its form. As Tony Robbins says, repetition is the mother of skill.
I've been reading Revolution In The Head again. John Lennon wasn't much of a musician. He was a very basic guitarist and pianist, like me. However, he had a great imaginative and creative power, maybe second to none. Dylan could write better lyrics, but Lennon was imaginative to a very high degree in words and music. / Imagine was his greatest song. A bit naive in its message, obviously, but still a classic. Great words, great music - and simple, understated. Grand, not grandiose.
Right, lunch.
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Anyway, that's all the news. Fuck tha news, eh? It's summer. No one is interested. All the decent people are on holiday. Except me, of course. I could only manage three days in St Ives this year. Never mind. I'm waiting for my ship to come in. Then every day will be a holiday. 'I thought you were going to be working really hard on your songs, for fifteen years?' Maybe five years, I don't know. I haven't even finished my demo yet. I've still got the cubital shit in my hand, but my hand is stronger now - so I can play the guitar a bit. / I was watching a video on YouTube the other day of some guy playing the Yamaha keyboard I want. It was pretty cool, man. 'Nice, Mikey.' It wasn't jazz, Voice.
I've played My Heart on guitar close to two thousand times, I reckon. And the good thing is, I've started to play it exactly the same way each time. So it seems the song has found its form. As Tony Robbins says, repetition is the mother of skill.
I've been reading Revolution In The Head again. John Lennon wasn't much of a musician. He was a very basic guitarist and pianist, like me. However, he had a great imaginative and creative power, maybe second to none. Dylan could write better lyrics, but Lennon was imaginative to a very high degree in words and music. / Imagine was his greatest song. A bit naive in its message, obviously, but still a classic. Great words, great music - and simple, understated. Grand, not grandiose.
Right, lunch.
