Monday, December 05, 2005
Dreamed a dream last night that I was at some strange, possibly impromptu, outdoor performance given by the great Ivor Cutler. He was in fine voice and performing a new song (roughly in the same kind of style as Rubber Toy though, for those of you familiar with his work) which was quite the best thing he's ever done and had me laughing uproariously. It was quite brilliant, not just because I got to hear an Ivor Cutler song that doesn't even exist but also because in the dream he was clearly in good health which is, sadly, no longer the case in that inferior state that we call real life.
I think more artists should perform direct to our subconsciouses. No booking fees to pay on top of already exorbitant ticket prices, no travelling to smelly London because the artist can't be arsed to play the venue in your town, no getting stuck behind the tallest man in the world and only occasionally getting a glimpse of the drummer's left elbow. None of that rubbish, just a perfect gig by your favourite performer (even if he or she is long dead) while you remain in the comfort of your own bed, tucked in cosily beneath your super duper king-sized duvet. Bliss.
Tonight I shall be consuming large quantities of cheese and playing Tom Waits at a subliminal level of volume.
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