“So this guilty pleasure shuffled onto my iPod this evening. And it made me smile and think of the Hanging Gardens in Cardiff on any given Friday night in 1988. Beer, fags, chaotic dancing and sticky carpets. Can remember Vince - the finest bass player I've ever seen - patiently teaching me the bass lines on his MusicMan Stingray bass. Probably the most rudimentary notes he ever had to play! Bloody good days, they were.”
So this guilty pleasure shuffled onto my iPod this evening. And it made me smile and think of the Hanging Gardens in Cardiff on any given Friday night in 1988. Beer, fags, chaotic dancing and sticky carpets. Can remember Vince - the finest bass player I've ever seen - patiently teaching me the bass lines on his MusicMan Stingray bass. Probably the most rudimentary notes he ever had to play! Bloody good days, they were.
My travels through time have brought me to 1985, a year when it was still de rigueur, in order to be taken seriously as an artist, to dress like a gay pirate...
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