born under a bad sign

It was a busy birthday weekend, and now I've got a week of vacation, so I've been limiting my computer-time in favour of more enriching activities. Like going to see great concerts. Or one in particular. Last Thursday I saw Richard Hawley at le Nouveau Casino. He used to be in Pulp. Apparently him and Jarvis had one of those classic rock 'n roll love-hate relationships. And rumour has it that Hawley is a huge son of a bitch. Which is suprising because most of his solo stuff is about love and nostalgia...and the odd one about drug abuse and addiction. JC once described him as an iron fist in a satin glove. All that aside, his show was fantastic. And it made me realise that there is not enough rockabilly in my life right now. Here are some pictures:






So I made the shortlist for the French national team. They want me to come down a day early to play with the team and see how I mix with them. I'm pumped. It's like my competitive spirit has been awakened after a long hibernation. I played Monday and Tuesday this week and now I can barely walk. I am feeling muscles in my body that I forgot existed.