Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! I bloody love this guy! How long has it been? Forty-three years?! Jesus. I only hope he's got himself a good agent this time.
And that's all the news, folk(s)! Yeah, yeah. I can't be bothered with finance. Last post of the week syndrome. You know how it is.
Oh, I played my song This World Don't Mean a Thing before starting this post - and after my dinner, of course. [Aren't chips the greatest food ever invented? I think so.] It sounded really cool, even if I do say so myself. I can play it like a true pro now! It's a shame I wasn't this good, say, oh, I don't know ... twenty-five years ago. It would have been 1994, the beginning of Britpop, and I could have been a part of it, man. Making a living from music was much easier then, too.
Ah, never mind. Everything happens for a reason. Don't you think?
Actually, maybe it's a good thing that the music business is so tough these days. I used to be quite lazy, but I'm pushing myself really hard now because I know I'm going to need the greatest album ever recorded. It's not something I want. Oh no. I need it! You dig?
Because I'll tell you straight, kook(s): there's no way I'm playing small pubs and clubs for years on end. I know some people like it, but it'll be heartbreaking for me, at my age. And I don't want the hassle. I'd do anything for music, but I won't do that ... to paraphrase Meat Loaf.
No, no, it's got to be arenas and stadiums, the big time, like. However, here's the terrifying reality of stadium gigs. How on earth am I going to cope with that?! Even more horror!
Obviously, I'll have to invent a character. I'll call him "Michael Fowke", and then just hope for the best.
...
Oh, by the way, I haven't had any decent PR emails recently. I guess everyone's on holiday. Well, it's September next week. Maybe things will pick up.
One day, one day ... Listen! This will all be finance. I have a dream! [A nightmare, in truth.] Christ. Never mind, eh? Just never mind.
...
I walked to Richmond this morning. There's a wonderful view from Richmond Hill. / I ate my lunch on a bench near Mick Jagger's house. [I don't think Jerry Hall still lives there. Or maybe she does. I can't keep up with these stars. Who cares, anyway?!]
Okay, okay. Have a nice weekend!
And that's all the news, folk(s)! Yeah, yeah. I can't be bothered with finance. Last post of the week syndrome. You know how it is.
Oh, I played my song This World Don't Mean a Thing before starting this post - and after my dinner, of course. [Aren't chips the greatest food ever invented? I think so.] It sounded really cool, even if I do say so myself. I can play it like a true pro now! It's a shame I wasn't this good, say, oh, I don't know ... twenty-five years ago. It would have been 1994, the beginning of Britpop, and I could have been a part of it, man. Making a living from music was much easier then, too.
Ah, never mind. Everything happens for a reason. Don't you think?
Actually, maybe it's a good thing that the music business is so tough these days. I used to be quite lazy, but I'm pushing myself really hard now because I know I'm going to need the greatest album ever recorded. It's not something I want. Oh no. I need it! You dig?
Because I'll tell you straight, kook(s): there's no way I'm playing small pubs and clubs for years on end. I know some people like it, but it'll be heartbreaking for me, at my age. And I don't want the hassle. I'd do anything for music, but I won't do that ... to paraphrase Meat Loaf.
No, no, it's got to be arenas and stadiums, the big time, like. However, here's the terrifying reality of stadium gigs. How on earth am I going to cope with that?! Even more horror!
Obviously, I'll have to invent a character. I'll call him "Michael Fowke", and then just hope for the best.
...
Oh, by the way, I haven't had any decent PR emails recently. I guess everyone's on holiday. Well, it's September next week. Maybe things will pick up.
One day, one day ... Listen! This will all be finance. I have a dream! [A nightmare, in truth.] Christ. Never mind, eh? Just never mind.
...
I walked to Richmond this morning. There's a wonderful view from Richmond Hill. / I ate my lunch on a bench near Mick Jagger's house. [I don't think Jerry Hall still lives there. Or maybe she does. I can't keep up with these stars. Who cares, anyway?!]
Okay, okay. Have a nice weekend!
