So tourists are drinking wine from baby bottles now, and Hooters has arrived in the UK. Meanwhile, we’re drinking less tea and more italo-american style coffee, its bitter shots sweetened with steamed milk, sugar and syrup.

I think there are some dots to join here: are all the sweet, fatty things we love so much (chocolate, ice cream, Starbucks Caramelattes) actually replacements for titty milk?

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It must be the wrong question. Continue Reading »

Perhaps I’d post more frequently if I didn’t enjoy writing with a fountain pen so much more than typing on a computer keyboard. Continue Reading »

So anyway, I’m walking down the passage that runs through Allders, connecting George Street to North End. A primitive retail intestine, splattered with symbiont bacterial concession stalls that facilitate the absorption of cash into Allders’ corporate self. Continue Reading »

These days I’m trying to fight the tendency to project my feelings out onto aspects of what I call “the world outside”. Continue Reading »

I wrote a song a few months ago. I’d just been for a walk with Alison down in Coulsdon: picking blackberries for an afternoon in Happy Valley, a u-shaped scrap of woods and grass that manages to make you feel you’re in the countryside. I’d just uncovered a recording I’d made of my gran, who recently died, and the whole mash of memories sort of found its way into the computer.

Here it is, anyway. Thanks for listening, I hope you like it – if you like it enough to buy it, it’s available on Soundclick.