I’m sure Lou can appreciate the irony of having my blog tagged by other blogs and not a single piece of metadata changing hands. Martin sent me a carrier pigeon, but he did also send one to Will and MaryMary, so I guess I’m in good company. far be it for me to try and obfuscate this simple yuletide community exercise (oh yes it is! oh no it isn’t! oh yes it is! oh no it isn’t! oh yes it is! oh no it isn’t! oh yes it is! oh no it isn’t! oh yes it is! oh no it isn’t! oh yes it is! oh no it isn’t! behiind yoo!) so I have to dig up a few things that I didn’t even know about myself before colorado disappears under a day after tomorrow blizzard and heathrow airport implodes under the sheer volume of disgruntledness which has created a time shift vortex into which grounded laplanders can hop while BA twiddles a knob somewhere and we’re all wearing santa hats while sliding around the concourse uncontrollably. so there.
1. I’ve made eleven albums but I’m the only one who listens to them oh yes I’m a regular brian wilson including the unnerving sideways smile and a brain like a sieve but I was only on stage once as part of the ill-fated we also hire vans and cars who had a singer like richard ashcroft in C&A but who was rubbish like the rest of us were although we did our own songs and from that point I decided I should do everything myself so I did including listening to it
2. I never take notes so when I say I’m just making a note of that it really means I’m just asking you to stop a moment because if I think about that right now I’ll understand it so hang on a minute and anyway if I don’t I’ll have at least 7 email sources reminding me what you said but maybe in a different way which actually makes it make more sense so it was worth waiting for right?
3. I can’t remember anything between the ages of 18 and 21
4. when I was a car valet under the the shadow of sheffield united bramhall lane stadium I was so good they gave me the chocolate brown rolls royce to go over which was going onto the front forecourt later that day and so I rolled it into the steam cleaner and sorted out the engine and the undercarriage rolled it into the workshop and got hold of the nasty pink polish that we used on all the sheds and fords that we normally worked on for about 2 pound each in between barm cakes and jokes about fat lasses and I proceeded to squirt an enormous spiralling arc of chemical over the expanse of the bonnet only to realize when attempting to work it in and buff it up with me greasy rag that the enormous spiralling arc of chemical would leave an enormous spiralling arc of a chemical stain which would forever remain. not even a bit of t-cut would shift it. I just pretended it wasn’t me and slid it into the multi-story before I strolled out the showroom and disappeared forever, well, to spend another 10 months unemployed in early 90s post-mining sheffied, anyway.
5. I’ve never hit anyone even though after 6 years working in Andy’s Records in Norwich on christmas eve and I got drunk behind the counter and started abusing customers out of hand for no reason other than I wanted to go to the pub I probably came closest or maybe when I actually got to the pub later and spent 4 hours on Bomb Jack for I ruled on Bomb Jack when everyone else was waiting behind me moaning about my most excellent scores and when they could have a go which they couldn’t and it’s amazing how long you can make half a john bull last but I can’t remember I wasn’t taking notes.