Sinister: The Picnic Papers

[robin stout]

Hi folks, fancy a biscuit?

I am having a little dilemma on the concert clothing front myself. Glasgow 
is only the first stop on my mini tour of Britain, so I need to pack plenty 
of clothes. The trouble is that essential packing space will be taken up by 
pants and such things so sacrifices will have to be made. I particularly 
want to wear my brand-new second-hand deerstalker hat, but it might mean 
abandoning my emergency rations of Kendal Mint Cake, and one never knows 
when that might come in useful.

+++

I think that if I were stranded on a desert island, the one thing I would 
ask Sue Lawley to supply me with before I was set adrift would be a cassette 
recorder. Then I could press down play and record, sing some songs onto it 
with accompaniment from coconut hoofs, then play them back and never be 
bored. I think with only the nauseous churning of the sea and the gibbering 
of those fucking monkeys I would slowly go a bit mad.

In a similar way, I think that if i were condemmed to a world where there 
was only music and no songs it would be half a world; a world with jelly but 
no blancmange, with skateboards but no rollerskates. Someone asked me 
recently what sort of music I like. I still find that question almost 
impossible to answer. I could tell them I like indie music but it's such a 
small label on such a wide, striped scarf of musical types most people 
wouldn't get the right idea. And my tastes go beyond that label anyway. No, 
what I like, I think, are songs not music. So "I like songs", I say. Songs 
about love, death and public parks. A punch to the stomach, bruise on the 
lips, crack in the heart. But even better, songs that tell stories; songs 
that tell me something that I already vaguely knew but needed a B and a D 
minor to make it clear.

Even if I woke up one morning on my island, fell out of my hammock and 
discovered that my last square of Kendal Mint Cake had been stolen by a 
fucking grinning monkey, a song would make me happy again.

+++

I bought a tweed jacket on the weekend, too, which suits my hat just dandy. 
Obviously hugely impractical, though. It'll be a close-run thing between 
that and my umbrella. Style versus stormproofing; it's a tough choice.

xxx

Robin



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