No Encore: The Sequel

Continuing this theme. When the track below came out (on the comp Macro Dub Infection II), I was young and stoopid enough to want this to be the last 'choon' I ever heard. The kind of idiot male melodrama appropriate for a go-nowhere recent graduate, reluctant to abandon habits he shared with people who now had places to take their scrolls. Let's just say its one-sentence lyric spoke to me. Autobiography: the night I chose this as my anthem, I decided not to show up for my crappy barman job and 'pah-tay' instead. It was an - ahem - somewhat illuminating evening. However, upon returning home the following noon, I discovered that the actual tenants of the flat had returned (no one mentioned that wee matter to me when I moved in that summer), replacing my pah-taying flatmates who had dispersed in an overnight panic. So, technically homeless and very much jobless, there was no other option but to keep the pah-tay going without pausing for a wink of sleep. I at least learned that with little more than newsagent deoderant and a decent toothbrush, one can survive anything with enough grace (cue the the theme to The Wonder Years). The morning after that, I awoke to news of Princess Diana's death; spending a drizzly Sunday rigorously pondering the ashen, laminate complexions of newsreaders, over a warm bottle of Irn-Bru. Go figure. Space restricts discussion of the 'problem-solving skills' I utilised for the peculiar week that followed. Well at least the rest of the country had gone insane by then...