You tell me your secrets, I tell you my lies

Chiggins1 emailed me yesterday. He sends me an annual year end round-up Best Of compilation CD2 every Christmas; has done since Radio 1 could still be found on the medium wave. 'I see you've moved back to the fair city - give me your address and I'll chuck it in the mailbag. P.S. I hope 2017 has been a vintage year for you(?)'

As I was replying I remembered writing a wistful post3 almost exactly a year ago. (Interestingly, since writing that particular piece, it is still being viewed over fifty times a day.)  

December 2016 was a very interesting month, for all sorts of reasons; even then I had a feeling that the early part of 2017 could shape not only the rest of the year, but also a life far beyond. Maybe I was viewing the future through some sort of prophetic kaleidoscope, but I knew this year would be, maybe not vintage, but pivotal. Even a blind man on a galloping horse can see that the tone of Even Monkeys Fall Out Of Trees is more upbeat since I made the move back down to Nottingham earlier in the year.

Here's a song I first played with James when he was living in Leeds. I have posted it up here before, but as I've started dropping it in my set again, I thought I'd share it one more time.4.

1.  Chris Higgins. His passport says he was born in Ashby-de-la Zouch. And he once auditioned for a part in Byker Grove. He may only admit to one of those statements.

2. He knows I'll never ditch my CD player.

3. Did I say wistful? It was certainly one of the shortest pieces I'd ever written. Around that time I was like a man on a desert island waving frantically at the sky. And out to sea. I was writing RESCUE ME! in large letters in the wet sand. Every day.
4. You're the One: it's from two Decembers ago - Dec. 2015.