I’d left my school in Heywood, a brand new modern place set in fields as far as the eye could see, and had been moved to a completely dilapidated, draughty Victorian building, freezing cold in the winter, with
Haha, I couldn’t read fast enough to play anything and eventually gave it up. At 11 or 12 I started plunking around on the piano. I taught myself all the chords I needed to know by ear. I eventually picked up an old cheap guitar dad played and he wrote down basic chords...
I won’t, but it has to be said that ‘Hurt Feelings’ rhyming ‘I feel like a prize asshole / No one even mentions my casserole’ makes me laugh out loud every time I hear it*. Again though the point is that the music, hilarious as it is, stands on its’ own merit as it ...