Rhetoricians and The Approaching Pastiche,

A cough that wants to remove a roaring throat, I nearly decided to stay at home. I began with Neutral Milk Hotel, In The Aeroplane Over the Sea, the opening line to Holland, 1945: ‘The only girl I’ve ever loved was born with roses in her eyes, but then they buried her alive, one evening, 1945’ and so it goes. If the coast round to Largo was lined with palm trees, this morning, it would have resembled one of those clips that feature on documentaries about extreme weather; the kind where a presenter is blown about in front of flapping palm trees in Florida, the Gulf of Mexico or wherever. Only a few droplets had appeared on my windscreen by the time I had changed to My Maudlin Career by Camera Obscura.

As I sat at roadworks, the cows ran to the corner of the field. I wondered why. I looked around and could see no reason for such expectancy at the gate, yet they waited. The lights turned green and I drove off, but those cows still meant something. Which cow had caused the rush? Which cow did the others trust?

I stayed mobile at work, I did not want to create a squalid zone of concentrated germs around my desk; I would’ve ended up passing on my illness to my neighbours only for them to give me it back. With Wolves by My Latest Novel on the ipod, Pretty in A Panic is my favourite song ever but my affection for some of the others still grows. As the noise grew, my little ipod failed to battle using Wolves, and I changed to The Decline of British Sea Power. Slow progress continued throughout the day and as is often the case, I left with the hope that things would have sorted themselves out for my return, atoms are wonderful like that; they always will always do what’s right, even if it’s not what we want.

Prevention by De Rosa accompanied me as I headed to the pits. Refuelled I headed to Carnegie Hall for the third evening of Tigerfest. Saint Jude’s Infirmary were first on stage. Happy Healthy Lucky Month, their album on SL Records, is a fantastic piece of art. I think they deserve more from the public, they have the credentials but I fear that they are victims of geography. I was happy just to hear Good-bye Jack Vettriano, however, they have more to their arsenal and it was a good 45 minutes. I love The Rosie Taylor Project, I first heard them on Marc Riley’s BBC 6th Music show, night after night, he has great artists on the show but I still think these are the best group he has brought from obscurity to me. Words are important, the way they wrap the music around them rather than bury them is beautiful. They only played one song from This City Draws Maps, which was the wonderful single, Good Café on George Street, so it seems another album is just around the corner – I can only hope.

Audrey sings Nico and Ballboy followed, I meant no disrespect but I left, Treasure Library Canada by Woodpigeon went into the CD player, this was the right way to end my day of music.