It's back into the studio again on Friday, so from today onwards I'll be re-learning the new McCookerybook and Rotifer songs after a few weeks of just playing and recording my own new stuff. I mean 'material'. Got to get professional here!
I was thinking about all of us with our CDs and records piled up in our living rooms, secretly waiting to be discovered. We are sure this is going to happen, if we wait long enough. Even maybe after we've died. Music lovers will find our music, and start burrowing excitedly through our personal archives, bursting out from a pile of LPs, eyes shining with excitement: "Wow!!! Look what I've found! The only existing copy of....".
I have always reckoned that McDad's lifelong interest in alchemy and the impossible Knight's Templar, all rolled up into the science of antimony, kept him going for years beyond his 'time'. Undertaking activities that other people might regard as pointless is a remarkable motivator, and often gives relatively small pockets of people a great deal of pleasure.
Face it, you're extremely unlikely to meet a Beatle (actually, even when I was in the same room as Paul McCartney I didn't want to meet him, for various reasons). But you can still go to see a small band or artist play, and will them to create something sublime out of their music that will transport both you and them to an entirely different universe.
If you become richer and richer and famouser and famouser, you realise just what a tiny isolated planet we live on, and start to think of travelling to Mars.
Sometimes the world in front of your nose is big enough and beautiful enough: it's just that the pursuit of fame and money makes you unable to notice it all.