I cannot recall such a surge of positive energy. One has to do little more than surf the tide.
A mountain of unnecessary paper has already departed, and all unnecessary tasks are following it. Donbledore telephoned from Seattle. He is back on the trail, and should be in NY this week, on his way to the UK. Fripp called from Nashville, his compositions brewing well. A long overdue payment from Virgin arrived…
The morning was powered by a reliving of the music from the last night of the Proms at the Albert Hall – including the Barber Adagio and Beethoven’s ninth. The concert itself was superb, a one off departure from the normal stirring mix of patriotic classics, that I still love so well. I will leave it to those on the guestbook, who like to study the habits of audients, to discuss the predictable sleepwalking applause that followed the Barber Adagio, despite the request for silence.
This afternoon, I made the acquaintance of Rufus Wainwright’s Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk. An excellent song, although I have yet, to find the same magic in the rest of the album. I was so excited that I found myself volunteering Punk’s services to record the forthcoming David Sylvian concert in London. Time the boy did some real work.
