Saturday past was one of those bright, still and frozen days that used to make up most of winter, typically crisp and almost exhilerating. Those were the old days before endless grey, overcast skies, biting rain and the Coalition Government. Petrol was 74p a gallon, we smoked hot fags, ate square sausage and music was some live and alive thing that it can no longer ever quite be. Anyway as I carried out some outside chores, hauling logs, harassing badgers and shoveling the river-bed gravel I took the photos displayed above. I then shoved them through a battered Fender Twin Reverb, a Coloursound Cry-Baby and a wonky Fuzz Face. The results are my low-toned homage to forgotten winters, the search for warmth and the cold hardness of our neighbourhood elements. All pretty much pretentious enough for sharing on a Monday.
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