Two lessons down, one coming up at two . A saucepan warming up for pasta. Sketches of Spain on the radui. My window wide ipen. The Newcastle streets calm and still. Niw I've eaten my pasta and Sketches is still spinning. My flat is filled wuth light and space.
Miles partuclarly can do this. . He has an immediately recognisably pitch and delivery.Impeccable Taste in who he chooses to work with and which stars he want to take aim at. With Sketches you can't but think of the Bullring. Juliet Greco. Scorchung midday sun. Hotter than July and madness in the air. The days when you used to smoke at the table where you were sat rather than being ushered outside to stand on a corner. In the corner.
It's best to read the sleeve notes of albums like these because it sets the mood. Takes you back to a time when rhthms and attitudes were different from ours and perhaps dare I say it, a trifle more gallant. Though I'm not sure Miles would have thought so. I've got the version of the album which isn't the classic version pictured above. wuth a sleeve where he's crouched in the phito looking warily to one side. A cigarette, (it looks like it must be Gitanes) clutched between his knuckles. Everything umpossubly moody. Suspended.
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