It's almost a month till my next gig, but I'm going to do a bit of recording on Wednesday; Tom's moved back into his attic to escape a loud hip hop studio that moved into The Chocolate Factory and activated itself at irregular hours; his booth was soundproof, but the lovely wood-floored room picks up vibes from everything from the sculptors' drills to the trains in the distance, and it couldn't cope with hip hop too.
So it's back to braking buses and police sirens whooping in the background; I'll record The Song of the Old Man and a new rockabilly song I've been working on. I was hoping to finish more but they're all stalled in various stages on the conveyor belt at the moment.
He's moving to New York and has suggested that I go there to record. Wouldn't that be a larf?
Better get eBaying again, though alas there are no more Viz comics in hidden boxes under the bed.
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