possibly not the best idea

[shermarama]

Just because the opportunity came up that way, yesterday I played bass for eight hours. One practice in the afternoon with SON, one in the evening with Tina the drummer and this enthusiastic lad with the songs. I would have gotten away with it if it hadn't been for that pesky/[cliche realignment boundary]/callous dropping off my right index finger the other day, leaving it unusually sore even after the one session. By the time I was finishing the second I was having to play with only the second and not-much use third fingers. Even so, the biggest sore point of the day comes from paying fifty quid for four hours in yet another quite shitty practice room. The drum kit was abysmal, the bass amp had at least been a good one before it got so shot, and fundamentally I resent paying twice the price I'd pay in Brighton for a place with far better equipment.

I gave in and paid for a whole set of cymbals on Saturday. Saturday night was a Bad Fucks practice, in a room with strong overhead dichroics and a little alcove for the drums. Swivelling cymbals flung beams of bright brassy reflection at me as I played, and my own smile was nearly as bright. A momentary bad mood brought on by displacement and a busy day and not enough time to do food well was soon beaten into submission. Drumming is enjoyable in ever more senses at once.