Chris Difford

Boo Hewerdine is such a great person to work with, he sits by my side, i type the words, he strums and sings. Its like having a suit made. He cuts the cloth and within a few weeks im mincing about in the songs we have crafted, side by side over a cup of mint tea and the odd fag break for Boo. He gets me. So why did i not let Boo work on this album with me, his demos are far more the deal than the CD that gathers dust on my mantle. The reviews spoke in hushed tones. Tones i could only hear if i were a dog. I knew in my heart i did not deliver despite having a great team by my side. The writing and the studio, the cost of it all, i was out of my head on a kaleidoscope of distractions, i was not present officer, i was not guilty but yes i did murder the album, i was under the influence of hurt, i caved in and went behind the curtain and hoped for the best. It was me that done it. A few of the songs embrace me, but as a whole the album was all in the demos, and in Cambridge. I should have listened to my manager to myself and to Boo. I should have done a lot of things, but i cant live in the world of should or could of. Thats not fair, but its a fair cop that hosted me by my own short and curls’. Goldfish was lovely to record with my lovely friend Kathrine. Wrecked said so much, it could have said more. The song about my Dad and my brother made me cry, but it could have made me weep. I was getting away with it. It cost a fortune to make and in doing so i never will see a shilling from it, i fear others are broke too. Lessons come at you from all angels in life and this one made its mark on me, i was banged to rights with a tattoo on each wrist. All i can say is sorry, it wont happen again. How could it, who wants to make albums like this, the getting away with albums that come back to grass you up. ( this review was written from the point of view of someone who did not give of themselves and in no way desires to upset anyone who worked on the album. Its a mood and a feeling, not a reality)