after a weekend of soul-searching, I've concluded I don't have one
Back around july-ish, I bought concourse a ticket to see Elbow for his birthday (and one for myself, of course -- to expect him to go alone would be churlish) and you know, the best presents really are things you want yourself. Fortuituous appearance of an ex-colleage and her cat's other parent meant we were able to leave our coats with them, wriggle up to the front and get elbowed (ah-hahaha) by teenagers. The new stuff was great; they played enough of my old favourites I enjoyed it but still wanted more (what, no Buttons and Zips?) and I didn't cry too much for Switching Off. Afterwards, last orders at The Star and discussion of a possible new business venture; working from the assumption that head injuries improve musical appreciation, we're thinking of getting middle class parents to pay us to knock their kids' heads about a bit. It'll be easy, fun, and involve minimal outlay. In fact, no outlay -- oxfordhacker has a metal baseball bat that would be perfect for the job. Maybe a half-price offer until we've got the exact force required sorted out. Like hairdressers.