“Let it snow” said the weatherman, and this morning it did. Not quite winter wonderland weather, unless you fancy sledging down a hill on freezing muddy slush or having an icy "gravelball" fight, but smashing to see a dusting nonetheless. Another benefit today, resulting from Britain's annual inability to cope with snow, was a minor traffic jam on the way to work, allowing me to listen to almost the whole of Arboresence by Ozric Tentacles.
Newcomers shouldn't be put off by the name, or by a swift glance at the group image on the inlay card which reveals them to be unwashed crusties sporting chunky-knit ethnic jumpers, a collective abundance of hair in desperate need of a dash of Timotei, congealed dirt under the fingernails and no doubt a penchant for nut roast - not the sort of people you want to be sitting next to on a long coach journey in a hot country.
Thankfully, we live in a cold country. And with their presence was restricted to 40 minutes of enjoyably-odd music and an unsightly band photo which could be easily hidden, they were excellent travelling companions as I inched slowly workward through the slush.
Also visiting the CD player lately has been Rhinoplasty by Primus, which is a bit samey compared to the brilliant Sailing The Seas Of Cheese, but does have a cracking live version of Tommy The Cat which should serve as a lesson to funk bassists everywhere. It's sadly let down by vocals though as frontman Les Claypool sounds (as my laughing wonderwife has pointed out) uncannily like Vic Reeves' pub singer. Reluctantly, and with dismay, I have to agree. Stick to the popping and slapping Lesley.
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