A new desire, possibly shortlived

Seems I have itchy feet, despite the abundance of records coming into the VP villa which I'm barely keeping on top of.

Listening last night to the opening track 'Four', on the eponymous Billy Childish produced A-Lines LP on Purr, I suddenly decided that I really need to become a singer in a scuzzy garage combo. I think I could pull it off.

Mind you last week I was contemplating how to get me some DJing slots at gigs (I make no pretence that the tunes I would want to play would inspire dancing, so I'd have to be a 'between-bands' background DJ). A great deal of the fantastic records I've been sent recently are burning a hole on my shelves to be honest, desperate to hit more ears than mine. Hopefully I can somehow give them that chance.

There's a lap-steel guitar in the house that Jenny gave me 2 Christmas's ago that I've not had chance to have a go at either.

I'm also still mulling over putting on a gig or two.

And I complain about there being too few hours in the day now!

Heart attack fodder?

Good job I've given up booze and fags really.