You’ll think me a rotten slacker, but once again, I’ll not be writing a Friday blogpost. This time it’s the Easter holidays, and in about an hour’s time I’ll be driving up to France for a week at the beach. I’ll update the blog as and when I can, but it most likely won’t be every day. Sorry about that, I hate blogs that update irregularly, so being one of the culprits is shameful.
Anyway, it’s Thursday again, which means that I have a tune for you to listen to. Here it is:
It’s a bit of fun for the holidays. We have some dark and intense acts and tunes at BlancoMusic, but this isn’t an example of that – it’s just a breath of summer to hold us over until the days come when we can get back to sitting outside in t-shirts well into the night. You remember summer? Warm evenings when the urge to dance and laugh and, well, do other stuff, isn’t buried deep beneath the need to hide under a duvet. Damned if I know how to punctuate that last sentence properly, but you know what I mean.
Ok, it is with the same carefree abandon that is typified by the music in the above link, that I take a day off trying to elevate this blog into the realms of good writing and almost-journalism and ask your indulgence. There really isn’t much happening in the music industry today. Lady GaGa’s ex-bassist says that he also helped her define her act and her sound, but that he’s not bothered with taking her to court. Good for him, don’t give her the satisfaction. Other than that, the big news is that The Men from The Press – the PR website I wrote about a couple of days ago, has folded. Funny, that. There’s some more shenagins in the EMI credit leverage story, but I really don’t care. Let’s just keep it all about the music today, shall we. The link’s aboove. Top tune, go have a wriggle and a writhe to it.