Lost in music.

Muzak schmoozak - I love it and enjoy everything in it's place. Anything from classical music (granted mainly from adverts and incidental music but would go to one of them hamper and blanket on the ground events. Champagne? cheers. Schmoke? don't mind if I do, etc, . . . )

And back off on The Smiths (ya cnuts!) - anyone who can write such gems as -

'' . . If a ten ton truck* kills the both of us
to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die . . .
There is a light and it never goes out (etc)'' - gets my vote.

Morrisey writes some beautiful lyrics. I prefer them as irony and couldn't care less what he is on about overall. Meat is murder sucks (in a dark corner of my mind I have a remix c/w chainsaw, chickens** and whatever else I can pen. If anyone gets there before me then I'd like a cut.)
Viva Hate? - I'd buy that for a $1.
(Good at being miserable but you wouldn't want too much in one go. Go one on yourself you mourngy git and do 'happy talk')

How often have any of us been disappointed by an offering from a favoured artist? Often the words I've been singing for ages turn out to not be the same as those on the sleeve, and then some - ''You saw Sir Winker?''. Quite.

As a salsa dancer non. . . (etc) I enjoy many a track that I haven't the faintest clue what they are on about - Los bomberos, Dos gardenias por amor, Dos cervethas por favor - they could be singing about a bunch of fascist chicken-plucking nuns for all I care (hmm? - this remix may even have a video).

Simply read?

Some words are better left unspoken or perhaps best not committed to a blog. However, in a time-honoured tradition of dodgy footwork and in the spirit of defending the incomprehensible I'll put my hand up and admit to having enjoyed - (oh no!) Happy hardcore. To those who don't know this has got to be quite simply the daftest music about - not big or clever but then it doesn't pretend to be either.
Sped up music, lyrics about magic carpets, rainbows and other escapist bollocks abound all brought together by an enlivened m/c - full chat and rarely the voice of an angel but often uplifting.

Don't go there, no really, don't . . . . . oohhhh go on then. One really shouldn't make an arse of one's self but when in Rome (Milton Keynes, actually, and erm? . . Luton, Elephant and Castle, etc (some bons mots really are left private) make like a Roman. One meets quite a cross section of people - not just yer tabloid-typical wild-eyed raver.
Dressed up warm for the night and pleasantly conversational adult chaperones (one even reading her Mills and Boon!), muscle-bound squaddies out on RnR, an athlete who told me it was the best workout she ever gets, and, hand on heart christianly clean, naturally aspirated - respect.

Then of course there's the rest of england's finest - council house asbo-fodder, m/c bad boy racers and lots of oddly cute, pigtailed skippy young ladies. Any of the Birkenhead crew in? watch your stereo. A lonng time since I went - probably satnavs or, heaven forbid, the whole jalopy now. Snakes are often spotted a mile off. As are mugs and dodgy security guards. Methinx we all know who we are.


My good daughter's inauguration into a life less ordinary came when, I figured, if she was gonna go experiment in life's wonderfully rich bounty then I may as well make sure that I could assist her if things went tits up, as it were.
And we all fall down from time to time.
(Hands up anyone who hasn't publicly gaffed - Cherie Blair? pff! - ''When I get older . . '' - I rest my case. I'd maybe spin her in the middle of the floor but karaoke? naw (2). What about the lifestyles of the rich and famous ? Looking at them, can you really blame us? They know how to unwind from a day down at the factory - are You really telling me how to bring my kids up? (leaf, book . .) (3)

Back to the . .

We actually never thought we'd get in what with us being rave virgins 'n' all. But some very kind people helped us along the way - people I'll always remember. And as an opener - m/c Junior with Force and Styles belting out 'So glad you made it' as we walked in. ***

I'll be back . . coffee, fagbreak and Carmel's The Falling on the box (available at all good stores and in time for . . erm? whateveritscalled)



* It may have been a double decker bus (Routemaster even - catch 'em while you can http://www.spiked-online.com/Articles/0000000CAEBF.htm
** Bugger all to do with Bird flu!!
(2) http://www.google.co.uk/search?hl=en&q=when+i+get+older+cherie+blair&btnG=Google+Search&meta=
(3)http://www.google.co.uk/search?hl=en&q=euan+blair&btnG=Google+Search&meta=
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Straw_(politician)
***Actually, l made that bit up - it's what l sang to my brood after gaining entry.
(4)One off the cuff. I thought I talked bollocks but this guy can certainly big up the little issue http://www.pm.gov.uk/output/Page8123.asp



RnR ptII: press the eject . . .

Not really wanting to make any more of a song and dance of it (as there are other things to do) but amongst all the badinage there were some inspirational words -

'If I can do it; so can you'. Unknown m/c. It made me more determined to get out of a hole, of sorts.

That's enough of that - off to work.