With regards to chasing the Yankee dollar, I need to shift my modus operandi. Busking, in its traditional outside-Mothercare sense, will soon cease to suffice. It’s going to get cold, and I’m going to get bitter inside, and I need time to record…

I realised just how much of a working stiff I’ve become during a conversation earlier today.

I was complaining to Andrew at Bank Street about what a fool I was to have publicly committed myself to writing…

I kept my word, for about the first time ever, and I came in on the weekend.

Yesterday was physio and cake and doner meat and chips and The Killing…

I gave up after my guitar case blew away for third time.

I was playing outside the Yorkshire Bank on the corner of Fargate and Surrey Street. I have never enjoyed playing there.

It’s all about shutting up that evil voice.

The evil voice, the voice of Resistance, that arises within everyone, as an equal and opposite reaction to the desire to do something good.