Frantic scenes at the marketplace, beach head of the global economy..

Look at it. A face worse than death. That’s what rampant capitalism looks like, my friends. The pressure up there defies my somewhat limited descriptive powers so I’ll say only this; it will take you and yours down, like a malevolent gravity clocking in at four hundred thousand Newtons and rockin’ concrete kecks. Look closely though, my brain is working out percentages and share options at unimaginable speeds. My wires plugged hard into the matrix, my eyes seek out only what they can get and my hair is big. Be in no doubt brothers and sisters, my hair is huge.

Worse still, the war on poverty (mine) is being fought on two fronts. My hangover was shocking. The previous night Marylou and I had driven down to Brighton to watch The Morans (circus troupe, aka The Guys, collective noun = Cackle) perform in a play they had written themselves called ‘Love Tournament’which was very funny. So funny indeed that I heroically attempted to drink myself to death in the pub later. We didn’t arrive home until gone half four and I had to be up at eight to make beautiful things and put them into bags. Mary was shattered, at seven months pregnant a girl needs her sleep so she got her head down for a while on top of the bubble wrap under the stall table while I slept behind my sunglasses.

With only seven or eight weeks to go before the due date, we still haven’t found anywhere to live. We discovered a new development in Bow opposite the sprawling foetus that is the Olympic Village. That was one of the incentives to living there; to watch it grow and come to life and then crumble and become a ghost. A bit like a Victorian Novel only with Javelins. We managed to miss out on a couple of large spaces and were let down on another. The stuff we do at home is now verging on the light industrial and we need space. What estate agents refer to as ‘roomy’ and ‘massive’ and ‘large’ bears no relationship to reality whatsoever in London. We have found a place that is perfect for us but it involves loans and commercial leases and viaducts and the council and ‘premiums’ and surveyors. We need to settle soon and start concentrating on what’s going to happen in October. Marylou is fine and well and the baby is kicking seven bells out of her from the inside.

I’m still writing songs but I can’t see a time when I’ll ever finish them let alone record them. As for the current recordings, check out the ‘News’ section.