Spitz show the other night went well, apart from the girl at the side of the stage who kept screaming at me throughout the set.
"I heard your music on the internet. it was much quieter; it was lovely; why can't you play that?". I politely explained that whilst i would dearly love to discuss the matter further, I had a prior appointment with the paying audience who were standing directly in front of me. This bizarre, maternal heckling continued for the whole 45 minutes, interspersed with her squealing to her fuck-witted friends about the merits of her factory-distressed denims. Interesting that this reaction coincided with a documentary about Bob Dylan and the conservative, thought-crime folk crowd who screamed 'Judas!!!!!' when he plugged in. So little has changed.
I'm off to Europe on a press trip, then to a festival in Japan.
I might start using a Gmail account because the other one is riddled with spam. Using mass mailing as a market forces supply /demand indicator, I conclude that the average man is addicted to Vicodin, has a tiny penis, is worried about his portfolio, would love to own a Rolex watch and secretly wants Japanese girls to shit on his chest.
What would the benign, intellectually and emotionally advanced alien species think.
-Disgusted, Tunbridge Wells.