Musical mirth.

(Before I start – what a smug title that is. I mean, it’s like something a retired, specialist magazine contributor would come up with; imagines it’s clever and wry but is actually a bit up itself in a fairly boring way. I apologise, if you care; it was conveniently lazy.)

ANYway.

Two quick thoughts related to music and maybe worth some mirth. One: saw a fab title for a band at the weekend. Was actually a Daily Echo newsagents’ headline hoarding all over town but I’d pay to see this undoubtedly hairy, sullen, noisy outfit if they appeared on the rosta at Mr Kyps – Sex Trade Police Raid. STPR to their fans. Not that I instantly bipass concern at local social problems for amusing myself with words of course.

Two: WHO, I mean WHO thought that the King of Saudi Arabia should be heralded onto British tarmac – as he and forty tons of baggage and entourage streamed across our robustly upholstered diplomatic red carpet all afternoon – WITH DARTH VADER’S THEME FROM THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK! Did you HEAR? (I’m running out of typographic enhancements to convey my disbelief.) Jeepers. Is the royal band of the Coldstream Guards trying to make a walloping satirical point before they’re hastily dispatched to the Falklands indefinitely? ‘Here comes the sinister leader of an evil Empire’ music ? I mean ?

I would like to launch into a detailed debate with myself about the rights and wrongs of this visit of course, but I just know I’d never get past the patently fake facial disguise issues that distress the international diplomatic community so. Besides, I need to talk to my wife as she walks the lonely late night streets of London. Poor sausage sounds exhausted.

Perhaps STPR will turn out to have a social conscience and put sarcastic satirical lyrics to an angry indie version of John Williams’ tune for Mr Vader.

Crikey, I should just set this up, shouldn’t I?

Auditions in a fortnight people. Not being funny.