At the edge of the sun

This week as been A Good Week, but I feel completely worn out, what with one thing and another. And yet a sense of complete ease has come over me. This has been helped somewhat by a little parcel from Shelflife Records containing a couple of Souvenir cds, which I'd lost during countless house moves and broken relationships.

Listening to Souvenir always used to make feel incredibly sophisticated for half an hour. During that time I was the hero in a Jean Luc Godard film, and I managed to snare myself a bereted lovely half way up the Champs Elysee. Then my boss would ring me up and ask me to write a thousand words on pig farming by 5pm, and that sort of spoiled everything a little bit.

So, it's lovely to have these records back, and I'm sorry it took a $1 sale at Shelflife before I got my arse into gear and bought them again.

There really is something very special, secret and almost - gulp! - erotic about Souvenir's music. Download 'Au Bord du Soleil' and see for yourself. Make sure you shut the curtains, mind, because if anything the new songs on their myspace page are even more filthy. Nurse! Pass me the damp towels...