I've been listening to a triple CD of The Grateful Dead the past three mornings driving in. As I've noticed before with their albums - I like one track in say four. The music's baggy, friendly, little to really take issue with.
Whereas this morning I slot in a Zappa - Trance-Fusion - and realise what I've ben missing: the bite, the sneer, the snarl, the garlic 'n pepper - the sheer muscle and gleam.
Sun shining, window open, accelerating up and on to the Ring I think there are times when this music - and this music alone - can deliver such ... exhiliration. That shiver down the spine.
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Today, boys and girls, we’re going to look at ‘Song of the Chinchilla’ by Lisa Jarnot*. I liked the poem immediately – and I’ve given it to ...
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April Fool?
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