incensed outraged before sleep that genius goes to prison
for
shooting
dead
a
blonde
waitress
with
a
gun.
he is Phil Spector/it was on the cards.
ashamed in the morning/sure that of course he should.
BUT his sentence must bear fruit.
lock
him
in
a
studio.
hard labour in mono/mic the drum/that lost art . . .
shut up Radiohead/get a real single out of them again.
original Massive Attack do a fresh EP.
Detroit Cobras - a dance crossover album.
and then Beck.
bring the White Stripes back to basics/then add full orchestra.
Dust Brothers to soundtrack my film; i’ll
have
my
sci-fi western
scripted
by
then.
no more guns in the studio but my own blasting
over
the
intros
and
codas.
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