Blogs. What all the cool kids get when they’ve run out of people to phone up and go See that Goldfrapp song? Fuckin’ Sweet Dreams My LA Ex, innit? at.
And do I need to keep holding my breath, or will somebody hurry up and make the blatantly obvious Summer of ’69 vs Jesus of Suburbia mash-up?
So, the fact that it’s early evening and I’m sitting at the computer rather than killing time before a gig means I’ve caved to external pressures and have given up the Decemberists to recuperate at home instead after my first day back at work. My skin is breaking out to the extent that it looks like a leftover slice of pizza, but apparently that’s normal as all the toxins drain out of my blood. Still, over the next few days I have Bob Dylan, Harry Potter and Kathleen Edwards so I can’t complain.
I was discussing the Pipettes in Virgin with a very nice young man (yes Steve, I bought the single, are you proud of me?) and it wasn’t until I got home I noticed he’d slipped a Dylan promo CD into my bag when I wasn’t looking. I feel so much better for offering him my Decemberists ticket now, although he was going somewhere else and couldn’t take me up on it. I also got The Like’s What I Say And What I Mean on vinyl – ace song, shame I can’t play it because I still don’t have a record player. God bless the humble mp3.