Swept away. I came in last night rather than staying at my local at half time in the frozen wastes of a wintry Newcastle evening rather staying out for the Champions League second half. Newcastle were one up to Marseille and playing well despite a lack of possession and put on Mulatu plays Mulatu instead. It was the right thing to do.
Being carried across arid plans with a nomadic troupe of players. Echoes of Alice Coltrane, Dorothy Ashby, Sun Ra, the train of slaves of deperados in Gladiator, Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar. The English Patient. .
I'm essentially mopping up now. We're drawing to December and the It Starts With a Birthstone album countdown is dipping into its thirties. It's always an arbitrary rundown. Never attempted to be definitive in any way because these days that's a ludicrous endeavour if it hasn't always been. This though is one of the best things I've heard all year and I'll shoehorn it in someone in the top twenty when I get back from Newcastle to my parents house in Canterbury. .Newcastle meanwhile lost 2-1.Wharever
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