Amplifier Magazine: Indie Rock + Artists That Matter







Either Andy Partridge has way too much time on his hands or he's simply too prolific to be reined in by the confines of XTC, the proto-punk band-turned-Beatles/Beach Boys disciples he founded nearly three decades back. It's likely a bit of both; after all, it's been practically 25 years since Partridge announced the group would cease playing live gigs and a good six years that have elapsed since their last formal outing, the unusually ambitious Wasp Star: Apple Venus Volume 2. It was shortly thereafter that this reticent genius released the first of what would eventually become eight installments of his Fuzzy Warbles series, lavishly anointed compilations of outtakes, demos and unreleased tracks from his personal archives, songs destined for XTC albums and either waylaid or retooled along the way. So while Partridge patrons have struggled to keep up – and to dole out import-inflated prices in the process – the task has been simplified with the release of a lavish box, The Fuzzy Warbles Collectors Album, a domestic offering that boasts all eight original albums and a bonus ninth disc containing nine tracks exclusive to this collection. Those already in possession of the imports may grouse about having to duplicate their previous purchases in order to obtain this final add-on, but anyone yet to make the plunge will find the wealth of music – over 100 tracks in all – a fascinating glimpse into a reticent genius that carries with it both excess and invention. As XTC devotees well know, his is a melodic sensibility that recalls Brian Wilson, Todd Rundgren and Jeff Lynne in his fastidious ingenuity and devotion to stunningly tuneful composition embossed with elaborate arrangements. So too, there's always been an element that's more than slightly awry about the Partridge pastiche, so its no surprise to find examples of the absurd (among them, “The Laugh Track,” which, true to its title, features its mastermind simply cracking up in hysterics, and “That Wag,” a studio rehearsal that finds him singing with a Dylanesque slur) colliding with more studious attempts (the persistent pop of “Dame Fortune” and “My Train Is Coming” along with insular takes on fan favorites like “The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul,” “Mermaid Smiled,” “Dear God,” and “25 O'Clock,” recorded under the aegis of their psychedelic alter-egos, the Dukes of Stratosphear). And lest anyone doubt a source of his inspiration, the set also includes a remarkably faithful read of “Strawberry Fields Forever.” Suffice to say, these volumes provide a bounty of brilliance to relish and enjoy.

~Lee Zimmerman

Release date: October 24, 2006

AMPLIFIER®, 2006 Amplifier, All Rights Reserved.





Sarah Vaughan - “September Song”
The sound of leaves turning slowly gold and that beautiful, awful feeling that age is creeping on and nothing can be spring again. Sigh. It's very very romantic in a down kind of way. What a voice.

The Pretty Things - “Talking About the Good Times”
Fades in where “Strawberry Fields” fades out, the clattering rolling drums, the droney Indian thingey, colliding twangerous guitars. Almost textbook old school psychedelia. From the same band who brought you the epitome of snarling punk, “Rosalyn.”

The Savoy Havana Band - “Masculine Women and Feminine Men”
Infectiously syncopated tiger-by-the-tail of a track. All about the gender confusion between the boys and girls of the 20s. The same arguments surfaced again in the 60s. "Girls were girls and boys were boys when I was a tot, nowadays we don't know who is who or who's got what's what."

Patto - “Air Raid Shelter”
How to tear up a guitar in a totally non-corny, non-clichéd way. Ollie Halsall was the best guitarist England ever produced. Fact. Taught me all I know about busting musical rules.

Third Ear Band - “Fire”
From the Elements album. If you built a pyre and threw 1,000 plague victims on it, this is what you should have on your ipod as you stoke. Demonic, lascivious, cleansing. The sound of mediaeval hell. Sexy with it.

Syd Barrett - “Octopus”
A ride around inside the frightened kid mind of a troubled troubadour. Disconnected musically and lyrically, a nevertheless thrilling nightmare spree from which we can walk away shaking, but unfortunately poor Syd couldn't. An enormous, naive talent, the Alfred Wallis of the underground scene.

Pharoah Sanders - “The Creator Has a Master Plan”
32 minutes and 45 seconds of, well, frankly, loopy out-there jazz, complete with druggy lounge repetitive vocals. Very odd, very loveable, very Pharoah. I first heard this in my teens and came out like I did no doubt because of it. Singalong now...

Bee Gees - “Jumbo”
Infectious nursery rhyme from the nearest contenders to the Beatle crown, that is until they discovered DISCO. This song has a buoyancy and helium lightness all its own. Their early career was pretty faultless, here is a primary coloured slice of it.

Nellie McKay - “I Wanna get Married”
Goofus girl with piano from the Big Apple who appeals to me. Tori Amos drunk on a surfeit of lemonade. This song is however a more smoochy affair that resonated deep inside me, for reasons I won't go into. Cried like a baby when I first heard it.

Anthony Newley - “That Noise”
This is the man David Bowie wishes he was, the vocal mannerisms, the subject matter, the show biz-ness. Check out David's early career and you'll hear what I mean. Tony wrestles with an irritating sound loop and comically loses the day. Love it. Novelty records RULE.

The She Beats - “Music Knows”
So my daughter Holly starts writing songs, with no help from old dad, and look what falls out. Where do I spit, it's great pop. My first 300 songs were dogshit, her first few are golden. Bah!

Napoleon XIIV - “They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha Ha”
I'm on a novelty song roll now. This scared the shirt off of me as a kid. Real fever dream soundtrack and bi-polar bop all wrapped up in one straight jacket. Minimal head hurt rock. The B side is even odder. It's just the A side played backwards. Put it on a juke box and watch the place empty in record time.


Andy Partridge's Fuzzy Warbles Box Set is available now on Ape House Records.

November 20, 2006

AMPLIFIER®, 2006 Amplifier, All Rights Reserved.

Review: Andy Partridge: The Fuzzy Warbles Collectors Album

Artist Driven: Mix It Up: Andy Partridge

Pop Ten: Amplifier Picks the Best CDs of 2000

Andy Partridge's Musical Feast of Fun: The Amplifier Interview

December 2000
Pop Ten

Amplifier Picks the Best CDs of 2000

1 Wasp Star (Apple Venus Vol. 2)

This guitar-driven slice of pop heaven more than made up for the disappointment of the new age - classically - inclined Apple Venus Vol. 1 with it's assortment of groovy riffs, irresistible hooks and genius wordplay. Song for song, no other album this year matches up. Now, if only Andy Partridge & Colin Moulding would take less than seven years to deliver their next classic! --Kevin Mathews
2 The Man Who
3 The Discovery of the World Inside the Moone
Apples in Stereo
5 Guest Host
6 In Case You Didn't Feel Like Plugging In
The Posies
7 Twelve and Twelve
Jeffrey Foskett
8 The Pity List
The Mayflies USA
9 Heartbreaker
Ryan Adams
10 The Hour of Bewilderbeast
Badly Drawn Boy
©1997 - 2001 J&J Publications and TWoMP


Review: Andy Partridge: The Fuzzy Warbles Collectors Album

Artist Driven: Mix It Up: Andy Partridge

Pop Ten: Amplifier Picks the Best CDs of 2000

Andy Partridge's Musical Feast of Fun: The Amplifier Interview


Andy Partridge's
Musical Feast of Fun

Amplifier Magazine
Issue 19
August 2000

by Mark Flora
The Amplifier Interview

When XTC dropped their gorgeous Apple Venus Volume 1 on us in the spring of 1999, it sent fans scurrying in several directions. Many, like me, were utterly delighted with its heavily orchestrated textures, cerebral songs and melancholic, heart-tugging hues. Wasp Star, subtitled Apple Venus Volume 2, sports a light-hearted sheen and frequently bursts into happy and uplifting territory. I grinned big when it loudly announced itself with fuzzy guitars, wondrously stacked harmonies and those signature XTC counter melodies. Although some longtime XTC fans appear somewhat dazed that the record isn't as dense and complex as much of the band's catalogue, it serves as a great flipside to AV1.

After a seven-year recording hiatus, receiving two great albums from such a revered band within a year's time was a delight. The only thing that could possibly top that XTC experience would be the animated interview Andy Partridge granted me from his Swindon, U.K., home. The man is funny. He's also very open with his emotions. Despite having already been on the phone most of the day in what he called “interview hell,” Andy talked at length about his current lot in life. He was excited to plug Wasp Star, but apparently just as happy to field the many questions any XTC fan would have for the band at this juncture in their 25-year career.

Amplifier: I've always found you to be such a distinct individual, and there are prices to pay for being so authentically yourself — musically and otherwise. What is it about your spirit that has kept you so true to yourself?

Andy Partridge: Whoa, that's a gigantic question. Let's see if we can chisel away some of that. Well, I've come to the realization recently that what's been good for me is to have not been successful. That's been a real help. That's really kept me hungry musically. It's kept me creative. It's kept me wanting to try different things, and not being backed into the blind alley of commercial success which has ruined so many people. Not being successful has been a great boon.

Funny how hindsight always serves to reinforce that.

Yeah. Stuff starts clicking into place and I can see that, Of course the reason I wanted to try that was because I didn't get backed into that. I know it sounds perverse, but I think truthfully, not being successful has helped enormously. It's allowed me to live a life certainly unencumbered by masses of money. I don't have to dig myself out of dollar bills to get out around the shops. I have a normal life except I don't get on my pushbike and go to the factory everyday. Otherwise, everything else is completely the same as a fellow that would do that.

Getting two records within a year from XTC is like getting one of Wonka's Everlasting Gobstoppers.

(Hearty laugh) Yeah, Wonka's Everlasting Suppositories! Ummm, Thank you! I think that's a compliment.

Oh yes. It's been such a treat after the seven-year hiatus.

If you imagine Apple Venus as the double CD it should have been, that we were planning for it to be — if you imagine this disc now — you futzed around with the package and then you realized it was one of those fold out double discs. And there's another disc in the back. You've just discovered the other disc that was hidden under the tray.

And happily so . . . but like I said about an Everlasting Gobstopper, sometimes it takes an XTC album several weeks to completely hit me. And sometimes even a year later, it's still unraveling itself to me.

Well, I don't think there's as much on this one to unravel. I know there isn't, just because we recorded the stuff that went into it, but that was a conscious effort — to limit the palette a little. There's hopefully stuff you'll still be able to get into in a while. It won't be such a thick layer cake as AV1. I didn't want to get as multi-stratted as that. I wanted this one to be more immediate and to show our more bubblegum side — or whatever you want to call it.

I put it on, and right away I'm saying, “Yup. I got that rush of XTC.” What makes it XTC to you after all these years?

The desire to write better songs than any of my musical heroes. It's really a sickness. A mental illness. I have to feel somewhere inside of me I've written better songs than Lennon/McCartney or Brian Wilson or Ray Davies or Burt Bacharach. I have to feel that I'm on the way towards writing songs that are at least as good as some of theirs. I don't think I'm near that yet. That is still part of the perpetual motion of the whole thing. If I feel I have achieved that, I will probably self-destruct. I'll probably end up getting a job as a window cleaner or whatever, because there will be nothing left to do — you know — when you get to the top of the mountain, the only way is down. Unless you ascend to heaven and I don't think that's gonna be on the roster. It's this sick desire to better all the people who force-fed me so much magic when I was a kid.

What was the vibe during the recording process of Wasp Star?

It was pretty up. In fact, this album had the least problems that any of us have ever had making a record. I can't think of one thing that was serious enough to make us sort of down about anything. The power kept blowing. That was about the only problem we had until we got that fixed. Otherwise, it was just really up and very energetic. It was the first record made in our own studio, so that was a good feeling too. A place of our own to work in. Nick Davis (the producer) is very fast and Nick is a very up personality, so he was really bubbling a lot of the session. And I think because we'd had such good critical reviews (on AV1) — we never sold very many — that I think we were in a really good, up state about making Wasp Star. So it was a very positive experience. Nobody was quitting the band. Nobody was saying they couldn't finish the project. Nobody was saying they were dying of ‘blah-blah-blah.’

No mind games from a producer?

No, not at all. I can't think of an album that had less problems. Maybe White Music, when we were so näive that nobody would have foreseen any problems, even if they had come up and bitten our arms off. This one was really a pain-free birth.

Did you enjoy handling all of the guitars?

It did scare me a bit to start with, because I thought, “Oh God. I can't be lazy now, and I can't pass the fiddly bits onto Dave Gregory. He's not here.” So I did put off playing all the fiddly bits 'til right at the end of the album. I thought, “Oh, how am I going to get into this?” But I enjoyed it and I think I did a pretty reasonable job.

I agree. Very fun, playful and spicy.

Like a good Indian meal with helium balloons attached. It was a little scary because I bucked my responsibility over the years and handed anything tricky over to Dave. I'd say, “Can you a play solo of this sort of character over here, or can you find a part that's like arpeggios or whatever?” I'd invariably end up doing the simpler stuff. There's two ways to go; either I get really brave about it and get fancier and fancier, or I just write songs with no tricky bits in from now on.

“I'm the Man Who Murdered Love” was the song that caught me the most on first listen.

That's the one I think TVT are looking at going to radio with first. I would have preferred “Stupidly Happy” personally, but fine, if radio stations say they like it, then they can play whatever they like.

I know that you had to tack on “Wasp Star” because radio stations weren't responding to strings.

We got hardly any radio play for Apple Venus 1, so we thought about calling the new record “Fire Work” as a main title with Apple Venus 2 as the subtitle. Then in conversation with TVT they said, “Look, just our early warning thing here — radio stations didn't play Volume 1, so calling the same thing Volume 2 you're just gonna make them say ‘omigod more strings!’ and just pass over it without even hearing it.” I'm convinced if our music gets on the radio people somewhere will like it. But the battle is getting it on the radio. So it was something we were going to do in any case. We were going to call it “Fire Work”, but I thought, no, it'd be nicer if we had a title that tied in with the whole Apple Venus thing. So Wasp Star is the Aztec phrase for Venus. People, I've heard, have been talking about it on the internet already. I'm not online, so I can't see that, but I've heard they're sorta mulling it over — ‘Why are we talking about White Anglo Saxon Protestants Star?’ It's nothing to do with that.

One thing that came to me when I first listened to Homespun, I liked the stripped down versions. It was startling to hear just you, your guitar and a cassette deck, humming the first melody. Do you ever suspect that you might release a totally naked, artistic expression like that someday?

No, because to me the magic of making a record is — and this comes from what I found fascinating on the radio as a kid — making records that you couldn't figure out how they did it. And it may have been something simple like a load of reverb or a sped up voice or something twisted backwards or some sound squeezed through a tube. The way that you mold and shape sounds takes it into a different area, but it's not just one person and an instrument. And I love that. You make that alchemical jump to making something where, the best of times, people can't quite figure out what it is. For me, a lot of my favorite records have got that element to it. As a kid I was raised on a lot of novelty records like “Beep Beep” by the Playmates or “Martian Hop” by the Rondells or “Purple People Eater”, because that's all you could get on the radio. Or light entertainment where there'd be somebody in his orchestra playing stuff. And a lot of that I think was the template for Apple Venus 1. You couldn't get rock 'n' roll radio. Pop radio didn't exist in England until 1967. The best thing was really those novelty records. I loved not knowing how they made that stuff. The first time I heard “Strawberry Fields Forever” I did not know how you could make that sound. And that desire to make that magic, that studio magic, has stayed with me and never left me. Although, I find records by other people very brave — when they strip it down to one or two things. For me I'd rather be the backroom person who squeezes and shapes and squishes the sound into a different element.

What do you find more enjoyable — the actual writing phase when you're putting pen to paper or when you're spinning tape for demos?

I suppose the finding of the song in the first place is irreplaceable, because that's when ‘radio out there’ comes in. You're tuned to nothing and you've got white noise and then suddenly something in your head plays a song and you think, ‘omigod, where did that come from?’ Then you try to explain it out in musical form. That's really thrilling on a real lizard brain level. Some light goes off deep in your skull and you go, ‘Whoa! There's a song there!’ But there's a different thrill when you're demoing. You're trying to make the stage set. For the actor to say these things. And the stage has to reflect what they're saying and it has to make the right atmosphere for the listener to have this play. The setting is incredibly important. And if you get the setting wrong, you're going to spoil what the actor is singing about or what's going on with the words, so it has to be hand in glove with that.

In the liner notes to Homespun I admire how you and Colin admit to tinkering with other artists' songs and then somehow, boom, that goes to yours. Were there any moments like that on Wasp Star?

Yeah, “Stupidly Happy.” I was in a very happy frame of mind, but I sat down with a drum machine — I really like the idiotic drumbeat that underpins “Jumping Jack Flash.” The bass drum is sort of in the wrong place for the riff. If you listen to the drums, they're kind of a bit spazzy. I programmed this drum beat and I'm leaping around with my guitar around my shoulder going, ‘Yeah! Let me play some fake Keith here!’ And suddenly this riff fell out and I thought, “My Christ! This is a great song I've found!” It was the oil, the Ex-Lax I needed to get that song through. I didn't even know a song was there. So that sorta thing happens all the time. But I'm not ashamed of it. I'm not stealing anything. I'm doing what any other person does who tinkers around with musical instruments. In no way on earth do we ever sit down and try to make something sound like anyone else on purpose. I know of bands that have done that. If somebody said to me, ‘Oh, you're rewriting ba-da-da-da-da,’ I'd drop it like a hot brick, because I wouldn't want anybody to think I was stealing something of somebody else's. Sometimes that happens. Sometimes you can sit and work on a song for hours and you'll see somebody and you'll say, ‘Hey, I've got this great new song coming. What do you think of this? I think it's great!’ And they go, ‘Ohhh, that's “Hey Jude!”’ Aw shit!!! It is!!! And you haven't realized it. You've been so wrapped up in finding a lyric you haven't noticed that you've inadvertently stumbled upon “Hey Jude” subconsciously, or whatever it is.

The Fuzzy Warbles boxed set — is that still coming along?

I'd like it to, but we may have a few legal problems with Virgin. To let us out of the deal, they insisted we supply them with a boxed set. And the majority of that is going to be stuff that is already available, so I can't think of who in the hell wants to buy it. But they do want some demos. The first time we said we may have some demos they said, ‘Good, you give them to us and we'll have them for perpetuity, thank you.’ And I said, ‘No. You don't. I'm not handing anything over to you if you won't let me have it back.’ Then they came back again and said, ‘Well, we'll lease them back to you.’ And I said, ‘No, you don't. I can't find any demos if you're going to lease my own demo recordings back to me. So I can find them if you'll let me have them back after you've used them.’ And so we're hemming and hawing about this at the moment. I hope Virgin will not get obstructive, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Phew, I don't know how many albums worth of demos we'd like to put out on a budget price label. Fifty percent on any given disc will be stuff that never got released.

What kinds of gems can fans look forward to on that?

A lot of the songs that we did I would've liked to have done, but for some reason I was outvoted. There was one for Oranges & Lemons called “This is the End,” which I think I just hit the nail on the head by saying that just because a relationship has ended that it doesn't mean that's the end of everything. It might feel like that for five minutes, 10 minutes, 10 hours, 10 days, whatever. But it's not. Shit is what you grow flowers with, and if you feel like shit now, then just try and use it to grow something new. I encapsulated it in this cyclical, trudging song that just kept seemingly raised up and up. Nobody else liked it, so that one just got binned and we just have a little four-track cassette demo. There was also a song for Wasp Star that I would've liked to have done which was “Bumper Cars.” It was a part fantasy about a traveling salesman and part autobiographical about when I used to sell paint to people. It all gets mixed in with the idea of being in a traffic jam. Stuck. Not being able to get anywhere and you being bumper-to-bumper with the cars in front, and also the thing about it being a fun fair where you get to enact life out. “The air guns crack, my boss is back.” I mean I did really want to beat the shit out of my boss when I was selling paint. It was all a fun fair as life metaphor. That was one of the lines, “It's a fun fair life.” But for some reason, Haydn Bendall didn't like it, Dave Gregory — when he was in the band — didn't like it, Colin didn't think it was worth doing and so I sorta said, ‘Well, OK. Maybe we'll do something else.’ So, there's all sorts of stuff tucked away. If we can get this project up and running, 50 percent of any of these volumes — and I don't know how many there are going to be — four, six, I don't know — 50 percent of those will be stuff that won't have been heard before.

Will there be any discarded Dukes stuff on it?

No, some of the bubblegum demos are still around, but the only Dukes stuff we've got are really primitive demos of the songs we recorded.

Have you and Colin talked about any other future alter ego?

That's something I'm eternally fascinated with. I love the idea that nobody knows who you are. You don't have any history and you don't have any expectations connected with that history. Sometime in the future I'd like to do this lucky bag music where you buy a cheaply printed, recycled, colored paperback that's stapled up and inside it is a single-sized CD with one track on it and there's a couple of cheap sweets and a plastic novelty toy. And you don't know what the music is on it. Hopefully it's inexpensive enough to buy that it doesn't matter if you've already got it. You can swap it with a friend or just bin it. It would be a piece of music that I would make, but you wouldn't know it was me. But I suppose now I've given the game away. You might know it was me. There would X amount of these discs, variations of these lucky bag kind of things out there. I like that idea.

After 25 years, which is a heckuva run for any band, what do you and Colin keep finding you bring to each other and to the band?

He still writes songs occasionally that I wish I'd written. Damn his eyes! Like “Bungalow.” I thought that was beautiful and it was a sentiment that is exactly in tune with where I'm from and where my parents are from. We lived two streets away from each other most of our life. And we went to the same school without knowing each other, or he knew of me because I was a year older than him. I didn't know of him because older kids didn't find out about younger kids — they just beat them up. As teenagers and in our early 20s we were always in the same bands together. But when he brought up “Bungalow” I thought, ‘God, this is achingly beautiful.’ This is a sentiment that I can completely tune in with. This is what my parents always wanted out of life; a little bungalow to retire to, preferably by the sea. Just the way he put the chord changes and the melody, it was so plaintive. I find myself wishing I'd written his better material. There are a couple of things of his I don't like, but the majority of it I think is good. Hopefully the majority of what I do he likes, and that some of the stuff that I do — which probably pisses him off a bit — but he knows that there's something in me that has to do this song. Or he can understand what the sentiment's about even if he doesn't like the music or whatever. I think we're relatively in tune although we're very different people.

The two albums that we have now in Apple Venus 1 and 2 — you had seven to eight years to come up with the songs for those. I'm curious if the process for the next record has already been started — songwriting-wise or project-wise.

No. Not at all. The last couple of years has really been recording these and promoting these. We've had our heads into getting the recording contracts that we wanted or that we could get, then getting into recording it and promoting it. It's now a case where we will have quite a few months of promoting this. This is just the thin end of the wedge now. This is the tip of the iceberg really, promotion-wise. That's going to go on for some months and then I have a completely empty notebook in front of me, which is thrilling and frightening because where do we go? You have to kind of get in tune with yourself again. What do I want to write about that I haven't written about before? How do I not repeat myself? How do I go into an area where I could make an ass out of myself because I haven't been there before? You know you have to sort of get in contact with the deepest part of your personality again. And that sometimes is a little tricky because you had all that stuff on hold. Well, the last thing I wrote was about '97. So that's been on hold since then because of record deals, recording albums, promoting albums. So when this is out of the way it'll be a case of looking at that blank canvas and thinking, ‘What mark do I want to make?’ I don't know. So that's thrilling. I'm a little blind at the moment.

I'm grateful that you're with two record labels that will let you explore whatever vision you and Colin choose.

Apart from the Fuzzy Warbles set we haven't come up with any alter ago stuff, but it's something we may get a chance to do when this is out of the way. I'd certainly like to look into it some way. We have labels that I say are very sympathetic. I think TVT were a little upset by Homespun, because they thought it muddied the waters regarding people who stock record shops where they would get confused thinking it was the next volume or whatever. But generally, everyone's been very supportive, which is a good thing as opposed to Virgin, who were just eminently confused by any suggestion that I made. Just looked stumped every time. ‘What? You want to make a record that's like a lot of old bubblegum tracks on a label that used to exist?’ I'd say, ‘Yeah. It's gotta sound like 1970-71.’ Virgin: ‘So I get it. We find a bunch of kids and we dress them up in. . .’ Andy: ‘No, no, no no!’ Virgin: ‘So how are you going to promote this on the TV?’ Andy: ‘Well you're not going to promote this on the TV. It's going to be a historical document.’ Virgin: ‘So, I see, it's going to say XTC.’ Andy: ‘No, no, no, no. It's not going to say XTC. It's a sampler of the Zither label and we're gonna be all the bands. There are going to be 12 different bands. 12 different tracks.’ They just couldn't get it. They couldn't see how it would make a fortune for them. And of course, it wouldn't. Because it was just a foible that we wanted to do. A musical feast of fun.

You guys have been releasing such consistent quality music for us for 25 years, so I'm speaking for fans. Thank you for sending all this stuff out all these years.

Well thank you. I hope you'll stick with us for the next 25. Because I really want to be a cantankerous old git making really cantankerous music.

Go back to Chalkhills Articles.

[Thanks to TVT Records]