I write blogs for moments like this. A hot day at the end of June. A hot flat. The wimdows thrown wide. Ready for Monday. A David Sylvian album to listen to. Nothing to do but envelop myself in art. I was incredibly sick in the summer of 1987. This record was out I should have bought it rather than watched so many indistinguishable football matches and soap operas.
Sylvian has an artistry that the rest of us can only dream of and admire. You get the sense that he has more in common with Jean Cocteau than he does with the Cocteau Twins. He made a choice that many of us would not have taken given his looks and talent. To walk the less travelled road.
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