I’m reading a wonderful book, by one of my favourite writers; John Banville’s The Sea. I like to read writing that unfolds achingly slowly, where the point of each phrase is slightly delayed by the insertion of, wait, just one more essential, surprising, enticing word.
The reason for this post, dear reader, is, well, I am shocked to hold in my hand something so incredible, that I can keep forever and read over and over again whenever I wish, all for the mere sum of £7.99! I know the book world is suffering much like the music world, for various different reasons, but, why do we not have this relationship any more with the physical album? Everyone in the street is wearing headphones. Everyone. And I know I just posted about being wired for sound for the first time, and the full gamut of delights of this format are still unfolding for me, but nothing can replace my love of the physical cd or record, I love to pour over the misheard lyrics and the artwork and find out who plays that weird honking melodion on track 4. Is music such a passive soundtrack to our lives now that no-one is actively listening any more?
So I’m embarking on the artwork of my third album; deliberating whether to stick to my guns and produce something handmade and gorgeous, or just get something glossy mass-produced. Whichever way I choose, is somebody going to hold it aloft as a tenner well spent and shout “Hurray! I own this, this is mine for ever!”?
In other news, I’ve been asked to play at a strawberry farm on the back of a trailer.