We approach our show, tomorrow, which is another event I detest. I have always detested 'The Show' other than when, as a young tutor, we painted all floors, walls and ceilings yellow (don't ask me why but it rather caught on for a while- everybody did it- one year it was grey, the next pink, etc). I wouldn't mind it if the students organized it all, and, just as in the old days, I could fuck off into Soho for a nice lunch while they got on with it, and they could have some fun. But now times have changed. Now it's all of us pulling up our bootstraps and putting on a great impression of 'excellence' and not a touch of all over yellow, grey or pink madness.
This could easily turn a man like me in to a grunting, miserable incomprehensible Mark E Smith (excellent with the Gorillaz I thought) a man who, of course, in his very droll and utterly authentic way, makes perfect sense for our times (listen to 'English People in Hot Weather') by snarling well and not making a lot of sense at all. Perfect. Oh I wish I had that talent.