Exploits of the Frictionless Man as it wanders around the world like some kind of slippery hydra. Music, words and pictures a speciality.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Chicken feet for hands and Lloyd George for a nose!

This is the first time I've been near a computer in ages, so that's why there has been nothing to look at. Of course you could have followed the example of Morriston Burns, who has been commenting on bloody everything.

All songs finished, tape handed over and job done. Now we learn how to play them, work out the dance routines, costume changes and pyrotechnics. No sign of the CD at the moment, something is happening, but I do not know what. Maybe someone who does would like to tell me?

The whole band went to a very nice beach barbecue on Sunday, and much cricket was played. But when the sunset and the damn guitars emerged, I must say I realised that I don't know any songs by anyone else, and neither does Mr F-Guitar. I can barely remember my own after a few beers and a dose of sunstroke. This led to a performance by myself and F-Guitar that can be summed up as "crippled."

Of course a part of me is quite happy that I can't trot out a bunch of Dylan and Beatles songs, I can sooth my shame by telling myself I was just too busy writing modern classics of my own. And being President of the United States of America, and landing on Mars, and writing the Integrated Theory of All Things and Everything Else Besides.

Right, I'm off to drive my Cloud Car to Cuckoo Land.

All the best.

Coal.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

sunday was a happy day, monday was a day full of bleary eyes and muggy heads. The music was better than silence, and silence is golden so you're still a diamond in all our eyes.

aawwww aint it cute

Mr Frictionless said...

That's very nice.

Has Mr F Guitar called you at all? He has information.