Loft

Wow- I have just spent part of the morning in the loft with Offsprog One, editing her boxes and adding some of Offsprog Two's.
As well as finding my original clamshell Mac, I found a box of CDs that contained all sorts of weird stuff including a French version of Footsteps at my Door which I forgot we'd even done. Too late for the album, alas, but I must take a listen.
I also found a Skat live at ULU (the University of London Union) cassette (that's where I got my guitar'n'mother-of-pearl bootlace tie nicked: if I play the tape, will it re-materialise?), plus two original demos on cassette that we used to send out to promoters and so on. I also think I might have found the Edith Sitwell poem that I rapped for Alannah Currie's project many years ago. I doubt very much that I still have the Debbie Harry tape she sent me to show me what she was doing. That would involve a lot of listening to unlabelled tapes.
The loft is tidier but it still needs some work. I have brought down an old cream-coloured plastic phone to put on eBay, and a pair of Levis that appeared on stage with me at more than a hundred gigs; alas, I was a beanpole in those days but they are being washed as we speak.
There's a strange old guitar up there that I bought at a charity shop. It smells peculiar, which is why it doesn't live downstairs with me and the other guitar-fellas. Something to do with the varnish, I think.
Well, that's the end of the loft story for now- to be revisited in about a week's time, for excavation mark two.