Plan B

Sometimes it doesn’t go plan. Not only in terms of the facilities [we are sooooo grateful to Joe and his secret fresh water tap...pictured!]. Friday night we struggled to secure a bass part on the newest of the new album tracks, it’s nobody’s fault, but between Craig and me we just couldn’t get into the groove. Craig has played a bass guitar blinder on all the other tracks bar one [the punk one…which I did cause I’m dodgy at bass]. This one seemed to be more problematic. We were both a bit shocked and finally conceded we do, for certain things, need a proper bass player, at least on this track which is called ‘The Greedy Scorpio’s in case you wondered. It’s about temptation and trust and the things we get away with…it’s not exactly autobiographical, and even if it was I would never admit to it anyway. Next week…as luck would have it, our new bass player Jules is back here in Manchester to rehearse for the BBC session on 27th May…so we might just get him to make his recording debut on the Scorpios, we’ll see how it all pans out. Here in sub reality towers we have just invested in a new TV as we’d got to the stamping on the floor every minute stage to sustain any semblance of picture with the old one. I just half watched one of those that was the decade that was type programmes, this time the geeky gizmo centric 70’s. It was pathetic really. The people they interview seem so so indifferent and the features are bland and the editing sucks and the whole notion behind the vox pop retro decadist nonsense is...well.... Twenty minutes of sheer dross was as much as I could take. Who on earth commissions these things? Earlier on I watched Three Colours White starring the polish Dustin Hoffman who’s name is beyond my recall which is just great…and strangely erotic, especially the scene when he visits his own funeral. I’ve had that dream too many times and am convinced it means something sinister. I am also far to easily convinced that I have the collective symptoms of any given psychiatric assessment I happen to get my hands on. Or perhaps my empathy gene is just a tad off kilter. Yeah…something like that, happy Easter, Vinny x