I must confess, the idea of a ‘hot young nurse’ administering a bedside laxative does have a strange, ‘appeal’ to me.
Note: I always thought that Colonic Irrigation was something to do with ‘Farming in Zambia’.
No wait – don’t go . . .come back. Please. Ah, there you are dear reader . . . For as a child, I spent a horrid year in hospital and everything, barring the kitchen sink (and a laxative) was regularly administered. Enough said, methinks.
So, the twelve songs that lay sprinkled before you – odd as they are, have a strange unity, if only in their lack of it. A couple are demos, for a demo (a song) can have a charm and an ‘honesty’ that can sometimes refuse to grow, to improve – to get better. So we leave it where it is, warts (coughs) and all.
Two or three are from musicals – which are waiting (breathlessly) in the wings and the album kicks off with my song for George – ‘Oh, Keoki’ – which is ‘George’ in Hawaiian.
Dear Kenny (Lynch) popped in to growl and positively agree that: ‘All Artists Are Bums’ – tearing himself away from his beloved Masters golf. Whilst the magical Rula Lenska arrived and spoke the words quite brilliantly – there’s more of Rula on the CD, which accompanies my autobiography.
However, a word of thanks to all my friends, great and small, that have appeared in my various studios to lend a hand – new, old and some alas departed.