Stop whinging; the lot of you.
You are, after all, in the pub for one overriding reason, to drink. Heavily.
John Peel, dead? At sixty five from a heart attack, if you really must know…Hell.
I'll tell you something for nothing. This past month or so has seen the release of some unbelievable albums by people who in another walk of life would be queuing for their free bus passes.
Still weird, still chaotic and arty. Soundtrack passed the test.
(If you choose to take part in this experiment, we can not be held responsible for any mental problems that occur – simply because if you actually do complete this experiment there is something seriously wrong with your head and therefore should be put down like a knackered old stallion.)
Music Shouldn't Read Like This