Music is my life my life is music

Why you know that ain’t the truth, sugar but I tell you what the past week and a half my dreams have featured music blaring. Big time.

Most mornings I’ve been waking with Psmith’s Rocknroll nigger in my head, and can you spare a thought for the disturbance felt when I just woke up with the so-called Babelogue (oh brother that's some kool term) of said song going round and round my poor old noggin.

Then last night I had this dream which was meant to be set in friends’ house in Mel but their house had turned into this extraordinary Laurel Canyon mansion complete with sweeping driveway, conversation pits, sandstone fireplaces and decoratively balustraded staircase, no I was not sliding down its banisters and honking horns Harpo Marx style that was the week before.

It was a swinging party, almost as good as the real one I went to last week, alas sans vision in pink tutu, frou frou and grey tights but that's for another post. Oh and everyone I didn’t know was at dream party. Unfortunately no Warren Beatty but there was Jamie C begging to put his hand in people’s pockets.

Anyway, that dream featured two songs blaring: Brand new Key and ruddy Congratulations (boom boom boom) and has left me somewhat distrait.