Sounds from beyond the Shed – Week 52

Back to the grindstone

Gone in a flash…

Easter is gone and the stamp of shoes in the corridors rattles through my head once again. I count myself very lucky to have school holidays and although they are often filled with marking and planning the change of routine and the ability to get away is a massive benefit to working in a hugely pressured environment. We spent a weekend walking and sleeping in a pub car park in the van. When the heating packed up on the second night as the temperature plummeted to minus 3 the dog found herself serving as a particularly hairy hot water bottle much to her disgust!

The morning brought extra portions in her breakfast bowl in the pub (see pic – note look of disdain!) and a promise between my wife and I that this would never be spoken of again. Ooops.

The return to school brings reminders that we are still in the grip of a pandemic but the restrictions now in place are negligible so the disease is essentially being treated a cold with parents now not testing due to costs. Nightly I pray no more deadly variant hoves into view as we are sitting ducks now with mask wearing being regarded with suspicion in the student body. At least exams are going to happen and we have many people who have never sat in an exam hall before so stress levels are already on the rise. Watch this space.

A quick get well soon to Chuck Prophet and to Sean Grant whilst we’re about it. Hope you both recover quickly and get back to making music.

Holidays also give you time to listen to lots of stuff and I have come across some brilliant things. First up a new track from Whitney K – take it from me this fella will be seen as a major figure in years to come – part Velvets, Bill Callaghan and lots more. Get in near the startish. I have also been back to Gaz Coombes who although back with Supergrass produced some great solo stuff and finally a touch of power pop with Chris Price – undervalued but not unknown. Take what you want or need.

 

About Keith Hargreaves 447 Articles
Riding the one eyed horse into dead town the scales fell from his eyes. Music was the only true god at once profane and divine The dust blew through his mind as he considered the offering... And then he scored it out of ten and waited for the world to wake up
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