A new-ish song for April in the Calendar of Song

Creeping Jesus

Autumn Sometimes

Faux folk is sometimes the only reasonable course of action

Twelve Stars

Her Ladyship had to agree, despite the Earl’s not inconsiderable 
reservations, that Perseus and Andromeda did indeed look even more splendid from above, looping the loop from the cockpit of Gustav’s extraordinary aeroplane. Few ladies of her exquisite breeding had ventured aloft as yet and any concern she may have held for her own safety quite vanished in the warmth of her pilot’s bountiful charm. It was February l9l4 the sky no longer belonged to the birds alone and anything seemed possible. Two months later, the Earl read aloud from the Times over breakfast, seemingly unmoved by his wife’s obvious distress. Gustav had disappeared, feared drowned, whilst flying back across the channel. He was not yet 25 years old, spared 
only from the immediate fate of the world to come and the knowledge that water would very soon claim yet another soul...
Seventy odd years later the world seemed poised on the brink of war again, weapons of wood and canvas now sharpened into ever increasing ranks of silvery missiles, commanded by two distant, wizened fingers. ‘Private Affair’ is a courting song from the late 8Os that came into being just as the crocus bulb of detente pushed its way to the surface, crumbling walls and grainy rhetoric as it bloomed. It was a time when the penalties for the abuse of jazz chords were less severe than they are today and there was always something else better to do rather than finish it off, usually with the girl I wrote the song for (that’s you by the way). But thankfully, like the shadow of those massed nuclear arsenals, it has never been deployed in anger until today. Probably best keep it that way

Private Affair

Why don't you wind down the window, let in some air...

Neil Linford

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