Thanks for all the kind Kinks komments about this @eggpod.bsky.social. If you love the Village Green Preservation Society, this is the podcast for you. I will be forever grateful to the great @chrisshaweditor.bsky.social for letting me be part of EggPod, it continues to bring me actual joy. 🙏

hail to thee, proud mayo billboard

Hiding from the sun in this ginnel

MORECAMBE

西五反田 #印

I should go and do something other than lying around next to a fan, maybe make a mint julep or write a despairing letter

I was scolded by a wren this evening. There’s a first time for everything.

If there is a piece of music that conveys the apprehension I’m feeling these days, then I definitely don’t want to listen to it.

Friday evening down the kaikan.

'It's the stream of life itself that is important,' he thought, 'not any particular event or emotion! Just to be thrillingly happy over a crowd of little half-remembered, half-forgotten sensations... that's the whole thing.'

FFC* *Faded Fashion Cleaning

Forty / 萬来軒

ご行楽のおともに・・・

BRIGHTON

'... more and more turned up in their deep blue uniforms, the melancholy light, as it failed, seemed to stretch long as grey elastic. A balm he had never experienced heretofore spread over him, the blessedness of being without duties or appointments, in the midst of anxious muddlement.'

Having something horrible out of a bowl are you mate, nice one.

Long time since I've had any mushy peas.

Healing Friday afternoon in a space I consider holy.

Very emotional to see Stereolab live in Tokyo for the first time in 17 years. The Groop have occupied a special place in my heart for most of my life.

Monday morning brings drizzle, silence and kudzu.

'... and, as they turned again to themselves in the garden, the briars wreathed from one black cypress to another were aflame, as alive as live filaments in an electric light bulb, against this night's quick agony of the sun.'

Most forbidding yet alluring izakaya portal in all of Hirai.

This your statue mate. This where you do your perching.

There are worlds within the world Within the world there are worlds

A wonderful night of Groop Sounds with @ianfmartin.bsky.social and Mittu and all the lovely people who came to bop mit uns. Joy in repetition undimmed by earthquake alerts and encroaching typhoons!

Cake...lover...no war... Count me in!

The paradise what an idea A guardian still on duty

the heat has led to this

Need to filter this down to something I can physically carry to this Friday’s Stereolab-themed DJ night. Rather than just playing The ’Lab, I’m planning to mix it up with their contemporaries, acts influenced by them, other projects featuring members of the groop, things like that.

'Early morning, nothing dawning Good to see your interface Good, you're still there rattling your cage Good for you, in your place'

It is Thursday and Tokyo is damp.

'Tonight runs the star as it crosses the grass on a lie And it frightens the answer to starve for a while Your cardigan flowers as it fusses the horizons for ice A new regulation of art as a smile'

June 26th at Sub Store, Koenji Tokyo Labbers assemble! Enivrez-vous sans cesse!

Old Shaky up to his rockin' and rollin' tricks again. That one felt mighty close, Stevens. You gots to stop the shakin', Shakin', I'm-a pleadin' on mah bended knee.

Oi oi oi!

Mid-June colours of deep Hirai

It is well with Chumbles.

Been to Haworth to see the Brontë Balti House

Goodnight

Get fed up, walk to the cemetery, find Davy Jones’ headstone, get soaked, and walk back. You’ll surely not regret getting fed up, walking to the cemetery, finding Davy Jones’ headstone, getting soaked, and walking back.

From 1972.

When the barber asks how I want my hair done

Puzzle index card #collage #archive #pop #Prince

Waiting for your fishy biscuits are you mate, nice one, sorry I've none on me.

'Can I think of grey writers? Possibly Beckett. Certainly William Burroughs; the first in his work, the second in his presence. A gentleman in a pearl grey hat. Grey in the fortress and dungeon of sartorial elegance. Grey friar. Eminence grise.'

Hideous on the edge of a precipice The cavity filled up with forgetfulness

'At half-past ten, in obedience to the rule of the house, Callie was obliged to turn off the wireless, whereupon silence out of the stepless street began seeping into the slighted room.'

'You haven't changed! sighed the weary little man; and the tone in which he uttered these plaintive words seemed drawn from a vast warehouse of accumulated school-hats - shelves upon shelves of hats - the burden of which seemed weighing him down in a Dead Sea of diurnal desolation.'

Mosaic Thump