I’ll tell you, the sessions out in the Shack have been getting more interesting lately.
This particular post is just CHOCK FULL of mp3s – enjoy!
Guy Noir and I took our constitutional stroll out Shackwase and found the sheriff poring over some lyrics at the table – I don’t think we got to hear the song he was working on – maybe next week. What we did hear was one of my favourites of his – a lullaby he wrote for his kids.
The fingerpicker arrived later, as did bongos and, wonderfully, Mags and the notorious frenchman of Tes petites fesses blanches fame. Along with them the english bassist stuck the head in as well. Ze germanz were, mysteriously, absent.
We didn’t get another French song, but the english bassist sang a Queen song with a ridiculous amount of chord changes in it (fair play!) Mags gave us an awesome Elvis Costello song.
The night went amicably along, even with an improvised song about one of the bar staff – she put down her trays and sat to enjoy it – which, unfortunately, I was not quick enough to record. What I do have to send ye along with is this last piece with the fingerpicker and the sheriff whistling accompanyment – listen carefully and you can hear the bar staff telling us to “wrap it up, lads!”
Guy Noir and I strolled home afterwards and yes, it happened again. This time we followed up with an ill-advised screening of Blazing Saddles. Oof.
I just can’t hack these late nights anymore . . .