pic by Ecstatic Mark
“Cat got your tongue, Shirl?” enquired mr.K.
For once, I was struck speechless! The audacity! The complete disregard for
my own private Idaho. I mean to say, couldn’t the manservant see from the way
I was sitting on the cushion, legs so crossedly crossed, pearl necklace so artfully
arranged with my eyelids all a flutter inhaling the heady aroma of patchouli and
aloofness that I, she with the curse of the gab was soaking in? Couldn’t he hear
the sounds of silence? Sounds of silence? Sounds. Of. Silence. wtf? What were
those two folkies smoking? That hardly computes!
Zen moment gone and here we are doing a first for radioShirl. A show with no
happy talk. That’s correct. Not a lyric to be heard in this episode.
So Shirleyphiles, its time to get your mental instrumental on and join us on
the big cushion as we oscillate wildly to a veritable smorgasbord of speechless
tuneage from the fabulous pizzazz of Nelson Riddle to the artful Penguin Café
Orchestra to the bucolic Virginia Astley to the pulsing minimal wonder that is
the Young Marble Giants to the bubbling up funk of The Commodores to the
downright hot and dirty sex of Barry Adamson punctuated by a whole bunch
of aural incidentals, we’ve got it all going on … but without a word to be heard.
Until next time, take care and play fair!
laShirl and mr.Kenneth