Dear reader(s), I've got two posts to write, to finish off the week, like. This one, and one later. Both will be about music, maybe, because ... after twelve years I've had enough of finance. / Listen! There ain't no financial crisis no more, UNLESS ... everything in the world is a fucking crisis, which it is, finance, climate change, politics, you name it! But please don't name it! No, no, no. I just want to escape, you dig? And music is my escape.
Right. When I saw Rocketman last week there was a trailer for a new film that's coming soon called Yesterday. The story? Some guy has an accident and he wakes up in a world where The Beatles don't exist, so, uh ... he steals their songs and becomes a big star. It's a decent idea. [A bit similar to the sitcom Goodnight Sweetheart, actually.] It works because great songs are revered and no one seriously expects any future artist or band to write songs that good again ...
Ha! Which makes me think I really need ten world-beaters instead of the five I presently have. And I don't mean ten by the end of a long and successful career, man. No, no, no! That's boring. I mean now, RIGHT NOW!!! Or at least ... by the end of summer?
Oh, Christ! Where's the summer? I'm not going to Cornwall with the weather like this. Yes, it's the end of May. So what?! I want lovely hot summer, and I want it now ... RIGHT NOW!!!
But I digress. As I always do. It's not a crime. / Yes, yes, yes! Ten is the magic number!
Ten would be totally unexpected.
Ten would be outside of normal reality.
But five ... ? Listen, five is very nice. I'm not looking a cosmic gift horse in the mouth. I'm so happy that those songs came to me and not some other schmuck.
Don't think I'm greedy, kook(s). I just need ten. Jesus! If you stepped into my life for one day to see how I was ... well, surviving, you would say to yourself: "What a fucked-up situation! Mikey's gonna need ten of those songs."
But as I say, five is very nice. Five will make me the biggest star in the world for a year or two.
Beyond that? I need ten. I need twenty. I need ... thirty? I'm not going to put a limit on it.
Why should I?
Obviously, no one likes Donald, but ... THINK BIG AND KICK ASS - !!!
Laters.
Right. When I saw Rocketman last week there was a trailer for a new film that's coming soon called Yesterday. The story? Some guy has an accident and he wakes up in a world where The Beatles don't exist, so, uh ... he steals their songs and becomes a big star. It's a decent idea. [A bit similar to the sitcom Goodnight Sweetheart, actually.] It works because great songs are revered and no one seriously expects any future artist or band to write songs that good again ...
Ha! Which makes me think I really need ten world-beaters instead of the five I presently have. And I don't mean ten by the end of a long and successful career, man. No, no, no! That's boring. I mean now, RIGHT NOW!!! Or at least ... by the end of summer?
Oh, Christ! Where's the summer? I'm not going to Cornwall with the weather like this. Yes, it's the end of May. So what?! I want lovely hot summer, and I want it now ... RIGHT NOW!!!
But I digress. As I always do. It's not a crime. / Yes, yes, yes! Ten is the magic number!
Ten would be totally unexpected.
Ten would be outside of normal reality.
But five ... ? Listen, five is very nice. I'm not looking a cosmic gift horse in the mouth. I'm so happy that those songs came to me and not some other schmuck.
Don't think I'm greedy, kook(s). I just need ten. Jesus! If you stepped into my life for one day to see how I was ... well, surviving, you would say to yourself: "What a fucked-up situation! Mikey's gonna need ten of those songs."
But as I say, five is very nice. Five will make me the biggest star in the world for a year or two.
Beyond that? I need ten. I need twenty. I need ... thirty? I'm not going to put a limit on it.
Why should I?
Obviously, no one likes Donald, but ... THINK BIG AND KICK ASS - !!!
Laters.
