by Fabrice Bourgelle


The Biff Roxby remix of ‘Song of the Foundling’ has been sounding like some kind of buddhist electro-dance war… I didn’t know I could feel delighted and mortified simultaneously. You’re going to love it.

I don’t know how anyone else feels about ghosts. But the other night, whilst writing a piece for this Miserable Rich tour in November, I managed to frighten myself. Now, when I say that, am I boasting, or admitting shame? I’ll leave that one up to you.

I have a new telephone. It has a digital calendar. How on earth do they think that can compare with the satisfaction of striking off jobs on a page:

For this studio-session-with-audience, we’re looking at The first week of October somewhere. I’ll set up a page for it somewhere, when we have real details.

I’m delighted to be performing in Sheffield again next week, at the Rude Shipyard. A little curious, though, as to why they’d ask me to bring a bicycle…

Honeyfeet’s Little Boat EP will be with us in a matter of weeks. Feel free to contact me, about how best to acquire it, at that time.

Jackie Hagan’s comedy performance has indeed been improved by the Dionysian groundhog-day that is Edinburgh. And she’s right, Rachel, self-harm is the right tone for a poetry night. I’ll be speaking at Jackie’s ‘Magical Animals’ on Monday. It’s great. Thankyou, Zack, for your night at the Lass O Gowrie last night.

I’m going, now, to the charity shop, to find a shirt for this scenewipe video, that we’ll make this afternoon, in Hitler’s favourite hotel. I have never felt so much like John Fairhurst in my life. But I can’t wait to sing.

Good luck, one and all. You do very well indeed