Okay -
'Where's the PR email, boss?!'
Ha, ha, ha!
Oh, I forgot.
Aren't I naughty?
'You're very naughty, boss.'
Well, never mind.
My fitness? Not in this heat, obviously ... but maybe I need to walk more. It's finding the time though.
Music, body, image. You need all three. For years I was only focusing on the music - maybe because it was such a shitshow.
I'm nearly there with the body, BUT(!) ... I want to be there. Do you know what I mean? 'Then you can get the Ray-Ban sunglasses.' That's right, Voice.
You must reward yourself, kooks!!! 'Me? I'll get some Jammie Dodgers then.' Ha! For what? What have you done to deserve Jammie Dodgers? 'I've been your loyal voice for years.' Okay.
I suppose it's an achievement.
'And I'm the manager of the biggest star of the Twenties.'
Yeah, right.
The world? Don't talk to me about the world, dear reader(s). If you want a serious shitshow, there it is.
I don't believe ANYTHING I hear any more. 'Ha! Did you ever?' No ... is the short answer.
I got eyes. I got a brain. A great brain - if you don't mind me saying. I know what's going on.
And let me tell you ...
It's all ashes in the mouth of Satan.
'Fuck!'
Yes.
Anyway, let's cheer ourselves up ... ... ...
My music? Listen! The structure and the length of a song is really important. I made The Future my third best song by adding a verse and extending it from 4.30 to 5.30. Last night, I cut thirty seconds off And Rain Came Down. It's much better now at 4.00 ... I still need to write those two verses.
Anyway, I'm really pleased about the BIG TEN. There's safety in numbers, you dig?
[As long as you don't write hundreds, ha! 'Ha!']
Originally, after the 2016 demo, it was my intention to just write one big song, which turned out to be This World Don't Mean a Thing ...
But enough is never enough with me.
Man, when I get those two verses ... just the words, obviously ... and I've got the chorus ...
I'm looking forward to rehearsing my BIG TEN all together. It should take about fifty minutes.
I'll try for the verses again on Friday. 'Then you can go to Cornwall for a farewell fandango for the groover, Mikey!'
Yeah, yeah.
How many fandangoes is that now???
Bye.
