Oh, all that FCA rubbish, man. I'm not going into the details. You probably know all the details anyway, dear reader(s), being so well-informed and that. All I'm saying is, Ian should have left it all behind years ago. I mean, rotten finance. It's a waste of time and energy. A waste of life. At least in the desert, astral and physical, in the old days, there was some protection. The FSA never went there. They were too scared of Big Herb and the ghosts of the dead financiers. / Of course, the desert was just the first stage in weaning these money-making lunatics off finance. Now I have my new, improved method, the conceptual stuff. And it works! / Obviously, I'll be taking Ian for a spin after lunch. I'll try to make him feel better. Yes, I'll make him forget the FCA. I'll make him forget everything, even his name.
And it might help me forget the Marc Bolan CD I'm listening to at the moment. We all know Bolan wrote seven or eight classics, songs like Hot Love and Get It On, but he wrote some utter shite as well ... like London Boys and New York City. For Christ's sake! While Bowie was going from strength to strength ... for a while, then he gave us Never Let Me Down, and that fucking glass spider, and Tin Ear Machine. Do all great music careers end in failure? Well, there was Beethoven ...
Not that I can talk. I'm having trouble even getting started! / But it will come good, you wait and see. My guitar playing is improving all the time. I played You're Lying and My Heart last night (without recording them, alas) and they sounded like ... massive songs, man. Each song would make a career. I've got two of them!
I'll probably be better off as a songwriter though, rather than a recording artist. I don't know. I'm confused about it. Do I really want fans chasing me down the street and screaming my name, at my age?
Let's see how it goes ... / I've got lunch to think of. Cheese sandwich, salt and vinegar crisps, peach yoghurt, and a can of Pepsi. This is how the other half live! The half that are sitting in the shit. I don't care. I like simple food. I don't wanna go to no fancy restaurant in Mayfair. Not even great wealth will change me. I'm sure of that.
And it might help me forget the Marc Bolan CD I'm listening to at the moment. We all know Bolan wrote seven or eight classics, songs like Hot Love and Get It On, but he wrote some utter shite as well ... like London Boys and New York City. For Christ's sake! While Bowie was going from strength to strength ... for a while, then he gave us Never Let Me Down, and that fucking glass spider, and Tin Ear Machine. Do all great music careers end in failure? Well, there was Beethoven ...
Not that I can talk. I'm having trouble even getting started! / But it will come good, you wait and see. My guitar playing is improving all the time. I played You're Lying and My Heart last night (without recording them, alas) and they sounded like ... massive songs, man. Each song would make a career. I've got two of them!
I'll probably be better off as a songwriter though, rather than a recording artist. I don't know. I'm confused about it. Do I really want fans chasing me down the street and screaming my name, at my age?
Let's see how it goes ... / I've got lunch to think of. Cheese sandwich, salt and vinegar crisps, peach yoghurt, and a can of Pepsi. This is how the other half live! The half that are sitting in the shit. I don't care. I like simple food. I don't wanna go to no fancy restaurant in Mayfair. Not even great wealth will change me. I'm sure of that.
