A Little Floyd and a Lot of Whatever Helps

I’m looking forward to the release of David Gilmour’s “Live at Pompeii” 45 years on. Even if your toes tend to curl at the mention of Pink Floyd (mine don’t, by the way) you have to give ten out of ten for perseverance. These days, Gilmour reminds me of an old fella who loves to tinker in his shed, emerging from time to time with an all-too-familiar item, lovingly restored and good for a few more circuits of the block. Pompeii might well be a Gdansk in Greek clothing, but I don’t care. Besides, who knows what he may have found lurking in his shed?

Meanwhile, there are new treats to be had. Nice, sparkly, previously unheard of treats. Spotify, no less, thought I might like to listen to Siobhan Wilson, and who am I to argue with Spotify? I’m glad I took the time. She’s wonderful.

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