Golden Tone Radio

Just hunkering down for my next batch of corrections and thought I’d just quickly mention this song before attacking the looming mountain. It’s from my good friend Clemens Krallmann and his delightful band Golden Tone Radio, but is special to me because I wrote the lyrics. It’s called Pictures and you can listen to it here.

And here are the lyrics:


Run, don’t miss your bus now,
You have missed it every day,
Love is growing stronger,
It’s so hard to leave our bay.

Dance, my eyes will kiss you,
I have kissed you every way,
Love is drawing closer,
The dawn seems so far away.

I adore you,
Like marshmallows,
We saw floating in the sky,
As we lay gazing at the clouds,
Painting pictures of our joy.

© Andrew Rossiter 2010

Isn’t it nice?

And another quick mention for this blog by Lars Iyer called Spurious: the basis for a new book which is basically a rambling dialogue between a disillusioned Philosophy Professor and his drinking friend – it’s wonderfully obscure and funny, and the bits on Philosophy at Essex University bring back memories, not so fond ones, but memories, anyway.

And that’s it for my quickies – it’s back to whittling down that mountain.

Turn it off

Hmm, I think I’ll scratch this week if I can. I wanted to do loads of things, all of which I couldn’t manage. What did I want to do this week? I wanted to go jogging. I wanted to test the new swine inoculation for the good of mankind. I wanted to write masses of startling poetry, ensuring my breakthrough into world literature. I wanted to finish my short story. I wanted to bring my accounts up to date. I wanted to cancel all my useless but expensive policies and clubs. I wanted to go to the pictures to see a film before it’s out on DVD. I wanted to meet up with some ex-colleagues and eat sushi with them. I wanted to buy a present for my well deserving nephew. In other words, I wanted to have a nice full, productive week.

And what did I end up with. Insomnia, that’s what. At the beginning of the week I went to the doctor for a check-up before the inoculation, only to be informed that I was in no fit state for such a brave undertaking, and that I am suffering from a (life threatening) dust allergy, which has to be dealt with first, and promptly puts me on steroids. Welcome to the world of body builders and weightlifters. A world of wandering between sleeplessness and madness, wild dreams and paranoia. And you can’t just stop taking the course, oh no, you have to slowly reduce. On the positive side I suppose I am breathing again. Sleep will have to wait till next week.

Oh, and my wife has gone on strike due to exhaustion.

Anyway, this put paid to all my good intentions for this week. I did write a poem about insomnia, but it was just a piece of  tired drivel, so I’m not going to put it up until I’ve improved it. Not wanting to leave you all in the lurch, I did manage a bit of flash fiction. You can read it here.

Other people have been much more productive this week. People like my good friend Clemens Krallmann and his band Golden Tone Radio. Here’s a little taste of them live in action, in Hamburg:

What a night, no, what a day, and what a night. Yesterday I had the pleasure of going to the Hamburg tax office to ask a few questions about filling out some tax forms. It was a remarkably pleasant experience with no queues, friendly faces and helpful answers – why do people always moan about the taxman?

I then spent the rest of the day cleaning and polishing our new glass cabinet which we picked up in an original St. Pauli secondhand shop for an apple and an eye. Honestly, there is nothing more satisfying than waxing and polishing an old wooden cabinet to see it gleam warmly back to life. I think I am mentally ill…

As if my life is not good enough as it is, I then went to watch my old friends Golden Tone Radio. A sublime set with some extra zest provided by a new guest singer. I was blown away by their performance and had started feeling sorry for the main band, but then someone poured some raspberry syrup on the ice-cream of my day. Ofrimwas the main band, and they were so good I felt sick with jealousy. The singer, Ofri, has a voice like Edith Piaf, but watching her performance is like being on acid, a mind warping experience I can only highly recommend.