PR email?
I'm not in the mood. I've got loads of PR emails. Actually, I've got one from a firm I used to work for - when the world was young, ah, the apple trees, blossoms in the breeze. Frankie knows.
'Frankie says relax, Mikey!'
Shut up, Voice.
Well, they bought the firm I worked for, and it had to change its name. Was that before or after I left? I can't remember. I mean, the company changed its name a few times, and it was so long ago ...
When the world was young, you dig?
Anyway ... I'm not doing the PR email now. Maybe tonight, or tomorrow. I'm writing about music, and Cornwall.
'Yippee!'
Music?
I'm always comparing my songs to other people's songs. I can't help it. I know that Mighty Soul and Shady, Dodgy, Shifty are better than Wonderwall and Don't Look Back in Anger, BUT(!) ... they might only be equal to Live Forever. So, it's very important I get a third song that's just as good.
'Hang on! You said that This World Don't Mean a Thing was as good as Live Forever, and that song is only your fifth best or something.'
Yeah, yeah. I change my mind a lot, Voice. The kooks know. Don't you, kooks?
'The kooks say relax.'
Shut up. Please.
Anyway, even though musical taste is subjective - Ha! - I still say that Live Forever is the greatest song ever written ... by another writer. So, having three songs like that will do me nicely.
Listen! Just because art is subjective, it doesn't mean that certain people can't have amazing taste and discernment ... while others don't know their arse from their elbow. Do you know what I mean?
This third song of my BIG THREE won't even be on the first album. Probably the second album. But I need it now for psychological reasons.
A BIG THREE within a BIG TEN will mean I can dominate the Twenties the way The Beatles dominated the Sixties, and any songs I write in the future won't even need to be of the same standard ...
Obviously, I will always try to stay on the same level or go beyond it. I'm just saying ... there will be no need to.
I'm talking about psychological freedom. You dig?
You don't know how I torture myself.
Cornwall?
If I go to Cornwall soon, it will be my twenty-fifth time there, and I'm convinced it will be my farewell fandango for the groover - if you know what I mean.
I will be "unknown", wandering around the beaches and cliffs, lost in thought, enjoying oneness with Nature.
Looking out for my friends ... the dolphins!
Staring at the sea!
Sitting on my favourite rock! A rock that has seen dinosaurs and humans ...
And my favourite pub in St Ives. My regular pub. They even recognize me in there.
And pasties, chips, mint ice creams ...
Those seagulls! With the ringleader!
The thing is ... if there's ever a twenty-sixth time, I'll be an international rock and roll star by then. The whole experience will be different, even ruined.
Yes, sadly, that's the truth: ruined - !!!
That's the price I must pay!
