Sinister: Bill Withers was good to me

[Funkyseb at xxx.com]

           You bastards.
I've been trying really hard all day not to post to the list, but then the
standards of the posts today...jesus. 
         So here we are again.

someone I fear not all of you love quite as much as you should wrote:
<<this morning i played McCarthy's 'Frans Hals' to about 250 15 year olds.
later on they laughed at me. which is fair enough.>>
Please don't leave us alone again Duke. This is why I stay subbed. I can see
it all now...it's very poignant. One day I will make a film of it. Mmm. On my
Super 8.
      
I was reminded of the duke the other day actually, when that Lenoir chap
played a bit of Felt, just before the now legendary black session. Nice touch,
I thought. 
The very poetically named Julien wrote:
<<Angels, angels... that's the right word. The *only* word.>>
Angels indeed. Naughty ones, but none the less, angels. I've done nothing
today except listen to tape after tape of interviews and sessions, and god!
you just want to wrap this lot up warmly and make them a nice cup of milky
tea. I used to like noisy rock and roll once you know kids...and used to mosh
along to earsplitting feedback, In crappy indie toilets; fuelled by cheap
lager. 
This lot have neutered me. All I do now is write crappy poetry and draw
pictures of foxes....anyone else sold their soul to rock n' roll, only to have
it cleaned, redeemed, and returned to them by Stuart Murdoch?
             Ooh, on a poetry tip: Has everyone else forgotten that it's
national poetry day today? (seeing as 90% of us seem to be americans now, it's
not really relevant I supose). I expected M. du Pantalon to say something on
the matter, but I imagine he had a busy day doing whatever poetry people do
when they're excited.
            Drinking too much and falling over, as I recall :-)
                  Well, I look forward to reading the winning entries to the
haiku competition. And Trousers, can you forget all about the one I sent you?
You know what it's like- you write a poem that you *know* is the best thing
ever written, you tell it to someone, and you realise it actually goes:
lalalalalalala self
lalalalalalala shelf
lalalalalalala orange.                    
lalalalalalala oh. ......bollocks.

      But that's not what I was going to say. 
I was going to tell you just how much fun I'm having listening to Too Rye Ay
at the moment. I just can't get enough of it. I think I've had enough, but I
haven't. I think 'that's enough', but I'm wrong. It's not. I need more. I
'cannot' physically, 'have enough' of 'it'.*
       Would anyone care to tell me privately, ie OFF THE LIST, what happened
to Kevin Rowland's rumoured career? Kevin Rowland is Stuart Murdoch with an
ego. But he's not as nice. Or as angelic. Rowland gets no tea and cake from
me.   
       Someone said a while ago that we should post our dirty dreams to the
list.
Well, I'm too innocent to have dirty dreams (seriously, kids), but I can
reveal that the theme tune to Brush Strokes used to give me a hard on.
byebye
seb

*The first person to recognise which comedian I just ripped that off wins a
picture of a fox. Signed by the artist. Me.     
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
      +---+  Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list  +---+
 To send to the list please mail "sinister at majordomo.net". To unsubscribe
   send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
 "majordomo at majordomo.net".  For list archives and searching, list rules,
   FAQ, poor jokes etc, see http://www.majordomo.net/sinister
          +---+   "legion of bedroom saddo devotees"  +---+
 +-+  "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list"  +-+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+