i just wrote the most awe inspiring review of the above and my log-in timed out before i published it. i logged back in and it said 'blog succesfully published', i clicked on my page and there was no blog. there was no blog.
my tribute to miles davis and what has to be contender for his greatest album is now gone, vanished into the nothingness. i'd like to think i could pull something cathartic from this experience, walk away from it like a buddhist monk might his sand drawing, tossed to the wind. as it is i am wiping spit from my monitor and cursing with fucks.
...and it's such a fucking shame. after today saw me sitting silent and lunch-less due to the worst offering of food this side of wormwood scrubs i likened 'in a silent way' to a cure for bad food, to a potential soundtrack to my daily canteen fuck-pit.
talked of years gone by where i would sit in the bath not fully understanding what i was listening to, can of cheap lager in hand. shriveled penis, the water luke warm at best, the boiler being on the blink and the bath itself being from the turn of the century and made of wrought iron. i would get out and dash wet foot prints across the sticky red rented carpet in order to turn the record over and hear the title track before returning to that shitty bath, bubbles fading due to the residue of cheap soap and beer turning to flat.
i like in a silent way, i think i bought my copy from relay records in bristol. relay was a great shop with great staff. i think it's a multi-storey car park now, i wonder if the guy with the long hair still pays in THEE HEADS.