I went to Junior’s parents’ evening last night at the nursery. Tried to recoup some of the mind-boggling fees by flinging down as much of their rosé as possible, and heard about the nipper’s progress from the one semi-articulate carer. Anyway, she told me that Junior loves music. Sits there, rapt, while they all sing, and bounces and cocks her head when particularly taken. You see? This isn’t just a selfish, inhumane experiment. She LOVES it.
And she’s learning to compare and quantify. She reassured me this morning that ‘Keep On Movin” is indeed streets ahead of ‘Back To Life’, and that anyone who said otherwise only did so because they were slow to catch on. Got quite strident opinions, this one.
Somehow lush in its sparse arrangement, this record still oozes warmth and class, which is a bugger to get out of the carpet. Luckily, we have bare floorboards in the new gaff, so there’s now a nice 80s soul varnish.