Pain, pain! As my legs hit the floor this morning, they expressed their extreme displeasure at yesterday's unaccustomed exercise. I shall not report on the distance between my fingers and toes, as it would appear to have increased due to swellings, stiffness and other eruptions. If fitness were simple, then I suppose it would not be a worthy challenge.
I again cut a sorry sight around my pathetically short circuit. "You'll get there one day" jeered one of the workers at our local building aberration to much laughter. Unfortunately, the Vicarious wit was not even able to muster the obvious "Yes, but will you?".
So what of our musical evening? "Ladies of the Road" presented itself last night. It is not what we expected, but neither is it otherwise. This material, having teased and infuriated for many years, has finally won. A mixture of flaws and beauty spots in equal measure, it will be a "Collectors Club Special Edition".
There are two ways for a band to have a cohesive vision. Either the whole band is forged through time and experience into a single entity (as perhaps with the Beatles), or one of the members has a dominant vision (as with the Kinks, let us say). At various times in its history, Crimson has espoused the lesser known third way.
But given a fine bottle of bubbling solution, well chilled and slightly cut with a touch of sparkling water, even the third way can sound more than adequate.
"Humour is not permitted."
