Tuesday, July 05, 2011


When I was at university I loved Chumbawamba. I absolutely loved them. Each time I saw them live Alice Nutter came on stage dressed as a nun which I found wonderfully irreverent. They were an excellent band to dance to and I still love them even though they were ALWAYS supporting The Levellers.The thing is I never owned any of their early stuff. When I was at uni I had a cassette of Ssh that I played to death.

Now that we can download music it's really easy to rebuild these early record collections, but although I checked I could never get hold of Ssh on iTunes. Then I read about Spotify, 13 million tunes in a cloud somewhere out there. I wondered what the catch was, but eventually I downloaded it and found out for myself*. I looked up Ssh and listened to ALL of it, starting with Ssh down to Stitch That.

But why this wander down the corridors of nostalgia? Well, you see, today I have been waxing lyrical about the trauma of potty training on Twitter plus one comment about tinkering with my WIP. @belledechocolat replied to the one about my WIP and I started going on about potty training, but soon realised that there were other preoccupations in my life, namely the fact that I have reached a hump in WIP. Something is wrong and until I wrote this, I couldn't put my finger on it:
And in a blinding flash of light I realised that my MC is wrong. So without further ado I give you: Big Mouth Strikes Again by Chumbawamba and can I make it very clear that the parts of this song that I am relating to right now are not the bits about freedom of speech and censorship.

*The catch is that every couple of songs you get an annoying Bruno Mars advert. Who the hell is Bruno Mars anyway?

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