Uh. I'll leave it until Monday, I think. Yes. I'll just do music now. Last post of the week, like.
After lunch, I played some pretty great versions of This World Don't Mean a Thing and Stella. Firing on all cylinders, as it were, or was. It's my mental states, man. I play great when I'm feeling great.
[From next week, you won't hear about my mental states no more, nor my music.]
I'm not even sure practice/rehearsal has got much to do with it. I don't know. I suppose I need to rehearse. Everyone does.
I saw some guy in Piccadilly Circus yesterday. Great guitar playing! Great singing! Same old story though. What's the story?
What do you think?
Cover versions.
Ha!
Well, it's his funeral.
When will they ever learn?
You need original songs. It's not rocket science.
I'll try to record tomorrow night, if it's not raining - too much noise, you dig? / It will be raining on Saturday and Sunday. I fancy trying to write another world-beater at the weekend. As I keep saying, ten will cancel out the achievements of every other mofo. It won't matter how many songs they've written.
...
Okay, okay. Tunes!
The Thrill Of It All. Roxy Music. / From Country Life. Great album cover!
Space And Time. The Verve. / I reckon that was him in Richmond, you know. Ha!
Until The End Of The World. U2. / Oh! Dan Pena realizes that when you die, it's like the world has ended. There's not much point in wishing for things to continue for others. People don't consider that.
Okay, okay.
That's enough tunes.
...
Anything else? Motivation? It's not realistic doing the Vance/Musk thing six hours a day or whatever. It gets in the way of blogging and music. Christ. Listen! Maybe I should get up at five each morning - half an hour earlier - and then watch YouTube videos for an hour, with some coffee. Pena, Goggins ... anything that appeals to me. What do you think, kook(s)?
Oh! I know I don't want to watch TV no more. It really, really affects my moods, for the worse. Especially repeats of Minder and The Sweeney.* Melancholic scenes of old London?! Seventies and Eighties? I'm not sure I need them. Do you know what I mean? You probably don't. Never mind.
Anyway, have a nice weekend, crocodile(s). Laters!
*The other week, in an episode from 1976, Regan and Carter were actually driving down my high street - going after some slag they wanted to nick, no doubt.
