It's been a couple of weeks full of numbing malaise...with Evan and Rory away on holiday, myself and Katie were left to pick our bums. Well, to be fair, Katie had work at the Birdcage most of the time, and i, aside from the occasional distraction of trying to get myself injured at football, have been sat in a puddle in Lowestoft vainly attempting to songwrite.
With the onset of a murky guilt as i realise i definately should be doing something more constructive than sitting with my head on a guitar, occasionally flicking through pages of Winnie-The-Pooh or Harry Potter, i resign myself to the fact that i can't actually entertain myself or do anything particularly productive in my house. My mind drifting listlessly between South American politics and Football Manager, and internal monologue droning on like that last sentence i wrote.
But help came in the help of an African Songsmith Prince Nico Mbarga, who's my musical saviour...as of now i suppose, until i forget about him in a week or so. But while i remember anyway, here's some of his stuff... enjoy.
Rory returns from New York this weekend, and we commence writing on our 2nd album. Sweet musical release, ahhh.......
Fab x
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