The last thing I listened to was a weird number written by some autistic guy whose clothes never fit:
The above reminds me of this. In the autumn of 1967 I saw Junior Walker & the All Stars in Brighton. Tickets to the Polytechnic "hop" cost 15 shillings and I can't remember who else appeared, but several more groups appeared, some well-known. I didn't dance like this, Dad-dancing is best.
Good lord, they finally found a use for sodding Tiktok. Layered reply sea shanties. https://twitter.com/Peter_Fries/status/1347402323950145537?s=20
Dead now! Currently playing: The unfashionable Technical Ecstasy/Never Say Die end of Black Sabbath, at ear-splitting volume until 16-year-old sprog beta complains. Snigger.
While raising a glass to a dear old mate who karked it on Friday. He bleedin' loved Joni Mitchell. Still, at least the roads of London are probably statistically safer now he's gone... quite the driver.
Here, for your consideration, are the 1980s at their very purest. The brunette in the furs! The blonde in the trench coat! The guy in the makeup!
My favourite band, The Wedding Present have done some lockdown recordings of some of their back catalogue. These recordings will form the basis of their next album released in February. Here is one of my best loved songs of theirs: