Kell’s birthday today. Presents, flowers, nice breakfast and champagne are the way every day should start, for everyone.
Head into the studio and we listen to the catchy tune. Andy has to do some kind of solo in the middle and we go all round the houses trying to get something that sounds classic. Easier said than done. Most of the afternoon is spent listening while Andy systematically grates his fingers. Our manager Ian and Andy Mac from Independiente come in for a visit, and seem to like the new tunes.
Esther, Lola and Isla (the family Primrose) have come down for a couple of days and pop in. It is great to see them, and I’m touched that Lola has done a great drawing for me. It’s of the invisible man, and is quite amazing.
Neil is staying in the flat next door to the studio which is an interesting place. It looks a little like something out of boogie nights. Deep shag pile carpets, sunken baths with gold swan taps, conversation pits and a glass topped bar at the front door. It must have been the height of decadent luxury in 1975 but now it is kind of like a movie set.
Much amusement is being got form “the farting preacher” video on google video. Very childish I know but as they say “you don’t stop playing because you get old, you get old because you stop playing.”
Andy gets many and varied versions of a solo done and goes off to soak his fingers.
The song does sound really good but needs something. I have a go at some speculative little piano bits but nothing is really sticking. Time for some food.
Tonight it is an overpoweringly flavoursome chicken jalfrezi which I fear I will be tasting for some time. Not that you need to know that.
Oh, by the way do feel free to pop some questions on to the message board and I’ll do my best to answer as many as possible.
We get sidetracked by a few technical difficulties after dinner, then Andy goes in to
work out his mandolin part, that poor boy is having a busy day today. By about midnight I reckon I can safely nip out and join Kell and her pals for a sneaky birthday drink. I leave to shouts of “part-timer”. Quite right too.
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