… And ‘Hey Presto!’ There you have the secret of the Rubik’s Cube in under 20 seconds. Easy isn’t it when you know how? Now then.
I went to see Todd Rundgren. last week. Not everybody’s cup of tea I know, but for me, his complete understanding of the dynamics of a three minute pop song (‘Hello it’s Me’, ‘I saw the light’), plus his skill as a musician and producer (his production credits read like a ‘Who’s Who’ of the last 30 years of popular music, albeit a copy with a few pages missing here and there but pretty impressive nevertheless: Patti Smith, Cheap Trick, Psychedelic Furs, XTC, Grand Funk Railroad, New York Dolls, Hall & Oates to name a few.) mean he’s safely up there in my Top Five. In fact, probably Top Three. Yep. When Todd’s firing on all cylinders he is a sight to be seen/ sound to be heard. And as if that weren’t sufficient, he seems to possess a God-given ability ‘get a lot out of a little’; as in the case (if I may I be so bold) of Meatloaf.
Ah yes – it’s all coming back to you now isn’t it? 1977. ‘Bat Out Of Hell’ the surprise multi-million seller sung by a rotund half-wit and written by a ‘never-gonna-git-me-a-girl-dork’. None of the majors would touch it with a bargepole. In fact, nobody would touch it with anything. Until Todd says: ‘I get it. Yeah, I’ll do it’ He steps up to the plate, and the rest is history. ‘The hardest thing was getting Meat to sing in tune’, he remembers (sort of ) fondly. However, tonight, the Steinman phenomenon and the Fat One are put to bed early. ‘Ya want Meatloaf, ya gotta pay to get out!‘ Todd good-naturedly warns the crowd.
Indeed Rundgren’s longevity coupled with a consistency of interesting and credible output, even now, as he nears his mid sixties, suggest he’s doing something right.
In fact, Rundgren is more resolute and singular now than ever in satisfying his eclectic interests: playing and recording exactly what he wants, confounding critics and fans alike as he first jumps this way, and then that. For example, in the last six or so years, he has recorded and toured ‘Liars’ a well-crafted thematic collection of songs, written on a laptop using a ‘softstudio’, played a number of acoustic dates (51 or thereabouts) sharing the billing with Joe Jackson and Ethel, string quartet, done a fairly extensive stint on the road with The (‘Who’s going to drive you home’) Cars, recorded a ‘Rock’ album ‘Arena’ on which he allowed himself to focus on his guitar playing (which he had come under fire for from some quarters of his audience for neglecting – not that for a minute I am suggesting that is why he did it) He also took the opportunity to use the tunes to give ‘a nod’ in the direction of a number of innovative, creative players whose work has happened to strike a chord with him over the years. (Ho, ho.)
The last year, he revived, and toured in its entirety his ground-breaking 1973 oddity “A Wizard A True Star.” It is an eclectic (that word again) and ideosyncratic stream of consciousness, sequenced as a continuous medley and featuring a ‘varied range’ of songs set in dazzling arrangements with innovative production; Rundgren experimenting with and exploiting virtually every studio effect and technique then available. Although it featured predominantly original material, it also included a version of “Never Never Land”, and a medley of soul classics* sadly packaged in one of the worst covers ever.
‘AWATS’ Awful, awful cover!
At the time, Todd was making his money producing, and was thus able to make the record he wanted to make rather than the one the record company wanted.
‘My attitude was substantially different than what it is for most artists, because I was making a fine living as a producer and therefore didn’t feel that I was constrained to be especially commercial in my own music.’ – So the ‘hits’ were kind of accidental then? ‘I continued to make records on my own but that was only because I had musical ideas I wanted to express and get out of my brain. I accidentally had hit records, and more or less got drawn back into being an artist.’ … So yes, they were.
On tour here in the UK in 2008, his promoter mentioned that the album had been cited by a number of new bands such as Daft Punk and Hot Chip and the like, as an influence, and suggested a one off performance.
On last year’s visit to London, Todd combined ‘AWATS’ (as it is known by those in the know) with a ‘support’ live set of songs from his most recent project, the album ‘T. R’s Johnson’; the reworking of some of the songs of influential Delta Bluesman Robert Johnson (1911-1938). Johnson’s legacy, one of the most powerful bodies of music to emerge from a blues figure resounds down to us through the years of the second half of the twentieth century through that of artists such as Muddy Waters, Elmore James, Junior Parker, John Hammond Jr, the Stones, John Mayall, Cream, Clapton, Johnny Winter, Paul Butterfield, Bonnie Raitt, Fleetwood Mac, ZZ Top, Led Zeppelin, Cassandra Wilson and many more. So what was Todd’s take?
Apparently, just as he completed ‘Arena’, and was looking for distribution, the people he agreed a deal with had an additional project they wanted him to take on. They had recently acquired the catalogue for Robert Johnson, but they had no recorded masters even though the songs had been covered by many artists. They wanted to have versions to offer for sync licensing, master licensing, that sort of thing. So Todd agreed to do it.
‘Towards the end of my high school years I became fascinated with the blues. My first paying gig as a guitar player was in a blues band, so it was not that unusual a challenge, I suppose. That’s why I considered taking it on … I knew that I wasn’t going to do literal versions of Robert Johnson songs like, for example, Eric Clapton did. I decided instead to tribute the bands that influenced me when I was first becoming a guitar player. And many of those bands were playing Robert Johnson songs, for instance Cream’s version of “Crossroads” and things like that. That became part of the standard guitarist lexicon at that point. So I decided I would make a record in the style of a 60′s Blues Breakers or Yardbirds, English-style, white blues record’. Sounds reasonable enough for me; and to be honest, I thought those bleating about wanting the ‘hits’ during his ‘Support Set’ at the Appolo, (and apparently too on the last night of the current tour at Ronnie Scotts) instead of ‘this stuff we don’t know’ were being downright rude. I could tell you exactly what Johnson tunes they played at Hammersmith, as I have in my possession – somewhere – Rundgren’s personal set list, annotated with little instructions: particularly copious I seem to recall over one tricky introduction, which in the event they screwed up any way. Personally I’d pay good potatoes to go and listen to him sing the phone book. But then I am, a little sad to say, a fan.
Rundgren is a musician who has been a particular favourite of mine since the late ’70s. He is an enigma. For instance, has written and recorded some sublime music (‘Verb to Love’) but also has some shockers in the closet. At times, he appears to be one of the few musicians around who has a clear vision of how popular music and the buying/selling of it and the relationship between artist and listener will be shaped and subtly shift balance in the future; yet on other occasions prone (embarrassingly often on record) to talking what can only be described as bollocks. AND he is guilty of a whole string of serious crimes against Taste during his unfortunate ‘prog rock’ era. But then again, it is quite common for him not only to produce his own recordings, but Todd cocks up the two part guitar harmony in the solo ‘I saw the light’ (Again) play all the instruments as well. Russ, my ‘Minder’ asked about Todd and drugs. Initially, like Zappa, he disapproved, but in the ’70’s began to experiment with marijuana, LSD and the little-known stimulant, Ritalin, now of course known as the ADHD ‘wonder drug’. Which explains a lot!
Funnily enough it was Alan (“Alright Pop Pickers?!”) ‘Fluff’ Freeman who proved to be the link. To digress a little; before Punk, like thousands of other ‘lost souls’ I used to listen to the mainly turgid shite that he played on his Saturday afternoon Radio One ‘Prog Rock’ show, bless him.
‘Fluff’ On The Needle
I say ‘lost souls’ because, at the younger end of his audience, I think many, like me, listened almost out of duty. There wasn’t anything else. We were just waiting … That’s why when Punk came along, we were off! Barclay James Harvest, Tangerine Dream and Yes? Nah! I wanted to listen to The Damned, The Buzzcocks, Slaughter and the Dogs and the Pistols. Neverleless, Freeman’s show along with (it almost goes without saying) John Peel was a pivotal factor in engaging with non-chart music of the era.
It’s wonderful broadcasting isn’t it, Looking back? I met ‘Fluff’ once. Charming bloke. Wasn’t sure about his handbag though…Where was I? Well, anyway ‘Fluff’ had a jingle he used to play which I couldn’t get out of my head. Of course, Sod’s Law the excerpt above does not include the one I am referring to and I have not been able to find it elsewhere. It was a snippet of a song. It was clearly live: you could tell by the ambience, and which featured what sounded like the chorus to a song sung acapella, the audience joining in whilst clapping a slow heavy rhythm along to it. It fascinated me. As well as sounding ‘live’ it sounded ‘alive’ like real people at a real gig.
It took me a while. None of my mates were into Rundgren, so none of them recognised it, but eventually I did track it down. It appeared to be “One More Victory” on a live album, “Another Live”. So on the strength of ‘Fluff’s few snatched seconds, I bought it, second hand mail order from Cob Records in Wales, and that was it. I still have it. If you are able to stomach the bizarre band photos which seem to depict a group of cross-dressing Mafiosi and Rundgren’s occasional self-indulgences, is a great record. One which for me, sits comfortably alongside other favourites from the same period: “The Modern Dance” Pere Ubu, “Natty Dread”, The Wailers, “Never Mind The Bollocks”, The Pistols and “The Mormon Tabernacle Choir Sings Songs of Christmas”
Todd. He’s our flawed genius. I say ‘our’, because shortly after arrival at the Jazz Cafe (with wheelchair, stick, medication and faithful ‘minder’ Russ, all 6′ 2″ of him) at about the same spot we saw Bobby Womack from a few weeks ago, we are immediately engaged by the couple next to us, in conversation about ‘Our Hero’: When did we first see him? Best gig? Favourite Song? Favourite Album? (Russ: Never, none, none, none. Should have been wearing white really …) I have found this typical, people want to talk about him, and do so with a familiarity that gives the impression he is a Mate or member of the family. His successes are joyously acclaimed, his indulgences soon forgiven.
And so, to Monday night, when Todd hits the stage, he is as relaxed as I have ever seen him. He performs a set of songs, unofficially billed as a ‘Greatest Hits’ tour with material collated from virtually areas all of his career from ‘Something Anything’ to ‘TR’s Johnson’. A collection that Rundgren felt, were the band to accept requests (“which we don’t”) his audience would have selected. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. The band ( Prairie Prince: Drums, Kasim Sulton: Bass, Jesse Gress: guitar and -it sounded like John Forensic to me! – Keyboards) long time associates of Rundgren were relaxed too, but not so much that they lacked punch. Set list went something like this:
Real Man
Love of the Common Man
Buffalo Grass
Kind-Hearted Woman
Determination
Lucky Guy
Can We Still be Friends
Espresso (All Jacked Up)
Love is the Answer
Difference
Lost Horizon
Flaw
Soul Brother
I’m So Proud/Ooh, Baby Baby/La La Means I Love You/I Want You
Hawking
I Saw the Light
Courage
Couldn’t I Just Tell You
Encores
Hello It’s Me
A Dream Goes On Forever
(Give or take)
I think my highlight of the night had to be the version of ‘Hawking’ for which I had wormed and weedled my way (to the immense irritation of many of my fellow concert-goers, especially those holding pints) to the front. ‘Fuck it’ I thought, ‘If I can survive an hour and a half in at the old Rainbow in a Clash or Bad Manners moshpit, disabled or not, I think I’ll be able to look after myself here should the need arise, thankyouverymuch, Mr. Grumpy who keeps giving me dirty looks.
It was well worth it. Electrifying, it got the hairs up on the back of my neck. I stayed for ‘I saw the light’ to see Todd cock up the solo for the second time live. Then went back to rejoin Base Camp.
What can I say? Had I been asked what would make a perfect evening with Todd Rundgren, this would have been it: performer in good – even high spirits, voice intact, intimate venue, great band, a fine collection of songs. The only things missing, which would have put the ‘Gold Seal’ on it for me: a rendition of ‘The Verb To Love’ and the stamina to wait around long enough after close of play to meet the main man.
Video credits: Steven Budd /Pic Credits: Thierry Allaouchiche
*The album was also notable for its extended running time—over 55 minutes in length, compared to around 40–45 minutes for a typical pop-rock LP of the period. (I didn’t know this. Did you know this?) This reflected Rundgren’s skills as a mastering engineer, since this extended running time took the album close to the practical maximum for an LP—Due to the inherent physical limitations of the vinyl LP medium on records with running times over 45 minutes there is an unfavorable trade-off between duration and the audio quality and volume.
(Please note this post may not be suitable for young children or those of a nervous disposition)
A post prompted by ‘Sitting Comfortably?’s recent series on recurring dreams which involved forced DIY of a particularly ‘Flat-Pack’ nature and their interpretation. It is intended to provide succour and support for those in ‘Flat-Pack Hell’, wherever that happens to be: deep in their subconscious, or all over the living room floor.
Swedish Exports
So, guess what? Me and an old friend had a whale of a time last weekend … At our local branch of IEKA. Yep! You heard correct: I did say IEKA. Sweden’s greatest export (After Björn, Benny, Agnetha and Anne-Frid* of course) That unlovely and irritating Nordic hemorrhoid (which in case you’ve ever been curious are a damn sight easier to get than they are to spell) which sits aside the marginally unlovlier A 406. The capital’s inner orbital route.
Not one of my favourite parts of town
That’s the ‘top bit’ – if your Geography’s failing you – The North Circular: or simply ‘That Fucking Road’ as it is more commonly known. It wends it miserable way through North West London, blighting the lives of those unfortunate enough to live near it, who, at our present location, just happen to be the inhabitants of Neasden. And of course the poor sods who have to attempt to journey along its carbon-encrusted, crumbling and winding fucking lanes, its lights and never, never, never-ending road works with their inevitable lane closures.
You could say that it is not one of my favourite parts of town. In fact, I will do almost anything to avoid filtering round from Hanger Lane, or down through Wembley/Stanmore or anywhere which leads in the general direction of ‘You Know What’.
‘You Know What’. Otherwise known as IEKA.
A successful visit to IEKA.
There are a pitifully small number of occasions on which we can have said to have had a successful visit to IEKA. In other words avoided an interminable traffic jam, there, back – or both, been able to walk through the store without fear for our safety, found what we wanted, been able to pay for it, then fit it onto/into the car and make it home without further incident. These pathetic ‘successes’ have been achieved either as the result of an early morning snap-decision to ‘up and out’ while everyone is still in bed and beat the crowds – or even better, to go when the England football team play a major game such as a World Cup quarter-final, for instance.
Just look at it. Like a malevolent Lego set. It stands (casually, lazily. Not straight-backed and disciplined like Marine Commando John Lewis) A sharp – eyed sentinel, jealously guarding its ‘reputation’ and more importantly its market share; topped off with all the charm of a devious, wicked paedophile: enticing the unwary and vulnerable into its veritable ‘Garden of Delights’.
Seductive furnishing, fabrics and practical knickknacks
The sad fact of course though is that there is no answer to its seductive furnishing, fabrics and practical knickknacks. Not at such prices. There really isn’t anywhere else you can get that sexy, contemporary tin opener for less than the price of a pint and a game of pool. Or that sofa-bed which you’ve been searching for (but without breaking the bank) for when your Dad comes to stay. I dread the words: ‘Shall we go to IEKA? We could do with something with which we can create a bit of space’ It’s a bit like hearing ‘I’ve been thinking, Pet. I really do think its time we got rid of that surplus old testicle of yours. We’ve never needed it … and besides, it takes up so much room.’ In addition, it will fit so snugly into that alcove’ (the sofa-bed) – and incidentally push Dad’s Sciatica into a new and chronic phase.
Reassuring
And look at this: both products, tin opener and sofa-bed are packaged in reassuring, environmentally – friendly corrugated card. And both carry the individual designer’s name: Bengt Bangersson and Soren Ulafsson respectively. (However, the chances of you getting hold of Bengt or Soren should their product fail to come up to your expectations are … well … remote to say the least.)
Funny Names
And they do give them some funny names don’t they? the products? The sofa-bed is called a ‘Lycksel’ which I can’t help thinking is rather rude – if not a physical impossibility.
Try it yourself
Rant over and done with and out of my system – this is where Jimmy and I got our laughs.’Rude, Suggestive and Silly IEKA names’. It’s not big, it’s not clever and it’s not original, but it made us giggle for a while. I am sure that many of you will have not only played but come up with far better examples of your own.
Here are some of ours. Try it yourself: in the store or just flicking through the catalogue at home. Lycka till !
New for 2011/12
Recktum – Is space a problem? Try these attractive stacking storage boxes. You’ll wonder how you ever did without.
Nob. A carefully positioned Nob can do wonders for even the most featureless room. Try the Nob range of table lamps.
Wince. IEKA’s range of giftware. Second to none.
Don’t buy till you’ve tried Bile, IEKA’s exclusive space age cooking utensils.
Tossä. You won’t be able to resist Anders Liefshite’s dynamic new tablewear.
Robust, hardwearing – you need a strong, sturdy Skrötum – especially with the likes of these rascals climbing all over it all the time! Skrötum is a fully interchangeable system of shelving for walls, doors and … wherever you want!
Chuff: An elegant soap dispenser.
Pubik: Scatter cushions.
Gag: a complete range of bedding – sheets, pillows, duvets. You name it!
Ulsså: make your mark with these ready-made curtains.
The ‘Must-Have’ wardrobe for 2011/12 is Stroke. You’ll probably have one too as you attempt to self-assemble this box of shite. Designer Stig Holmqvist makes a feature of using a completely different number of screws and nails on each construction – Individual! Or as we say in Sweden, ‘Förlorare!’**
* ABBA: For those of you who have been hibernating for the last 50 years.
** ‘Loser!
Postscript to ‘How to hang your Skrötum’
A few IEKA facts:
Founded in 1943 by 17-year-old Ingvar Kamprad in Sweden.
It is the World’ largest retailer of furniture.
The company name is an acronym comprising Ingvar’s initials, the farm where he grew up (Elmtaryd), and his home parish, Agunnaryd.
IEKA products are identified by single word names. Most of the names are Swedish in origin, based on a special naming system developed by IEKA.
Upholstered furniture, coffee tables, rattan furniture, bookshelves, media storage, doorknobs: Swedish placenames
Beds, wardrobes, hall furniture: Norwegian place names
Dining tables and chairs: Finnish place names
Bookcase ranges: Occupations
Bathroom articles: Scandinavian lakes, rivers and bays
Kitchens: grammatical terms, sometimes also other names
As the penultimate in the recent series of stories about dreams, I offer you a particularly spooky dream my eldest son had a couple of months ago while on holiday.
Amongst other things, he is a qualified Lifeguard and as such a very handy person to have around if you happen to be near water (eg. Bathroom, Kitchen etc)
Well his dream goes like this. He is walking past the swimming pool belonging to an adjacent block of flats and becomes aware of somebody in difficulty at the far end. Of course, he doesn’t think twice, and launches himself in to save the flailing figure.
Automatically, he begins to carry out the rescue procedure, only to find out that as he does, his ‘victim’ begins to fight and force him under…. Now this wasn’t in his training programme. You expect a bit of resistance from petrified potential fishbait, but not this. This was a strong, fit young man who had obviously been lying, or more correctly´’floating’ in wait for him.
Anyway, cut a long story short, my son ‘saves’ the man and drags him out of the pool, by which time assistance has arrived…
(This is where it gets weird) … because of his demonstration of selflesness and public spirit he is rewarded by the local council with a civic reception in Uxbridge, followed by Sunday Lunch and an afternoon spent in the company of Harry and Jamie Redknapp!
(For the benefit of my ‘Global’ readership, some of whom will not be familiar with the Redknapps: they are former Football (Soccer)player and now manager of Tottenham Hotspur, Dad Harry; and former player, now TV pundit, son Jamie. As random a pair as you could pick in the context of the above)
Here I was minding my own business, being agreeably insomniac, when all of a sudden I’m having these dreams. And not only that, but recurring dreams too. I never have recurring dreams: I’ve had ‘The Old Hag’ dream and woken up to find her sitting on my chest (I’ll tell you about it one day) but never recurring dreams.
So it was that in the first of these dreams I found myself having to produce a life sized copy of the Hindu Temple in Neasden North London, or perhaps more correctly The BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir; Europe’s first traditional Hindu temple. My task was not only to do this, but to do it with flatpack furniture. No easy feat I can tell you, when all they give you is one stupid Allen (Hex) key and no instructions.
Then the following night it was but a stone’s throw away … Okay 20 minutes by car (presumably – I was asleep) and to Perivale. The subject was Wallis, Gilbert & Partners’ wonderful Art Deco masterpiece, The Hoover Factory on the Western Avenue (A40) My construction materials for the night were packed in brown card boxes and were stamped IEKA. What a headache. Every boxed item had a silly name, like Sküm and Tossa. I couldn’t tell my Arsse from my Elbö. In the dream, however, I managed it OK. It just took us 4 hours to get back in the traffic.
Then night three and Tower Bridge. I had to use end-of-line bits and pieces from Do-It-All and B & Q. There wasn’t enough stuff! I told them I would need more shelf brackets and door hinges but they didn’t listen. If you look closely you will see my Grade One listed building has no back. Also, Do-It-All and especially B & Q need to sort out their warehousing.
Last night, and after the North London temple, this was the toughest task: St Paul’s Cathedral. I had to complement the main construction with at least two from the hundreds of really interesting buildings tucked away in that sort of triangle created by Bishop’s Gate, Newgate St. and then down to the river. I was really disappointed with this one: I left out ‘The Whispering Gallery! Can you believe it? My other two very rushed offerings were in the shape of a poorly scaled St Mary le Bow and a lopsided Bank of England. Finding drawer fronts that weren’t already marked or scratched was a problem.
What would Freud have made of it all?
So just what would Freud, that interpreter of dreams, explorer of the unconscious, architect of psychoanalysis – himself a North London resident for the last few years of his life, have made of this?
(Parliament Hill)
Well for my money, I reckon he would have taken off either to Highgate Ponds and the surrounding area on Hampstead Heath, or Parliament Hill, located in the south east corner of Hampstead Heath, and a vertigo-inducing 322 feet high. From here, or hereabouts, he would have had good views variously of Kenwood House, Keat’s House, The Spaniards and the Old Bull and Bush.
(St. Marylebone Church)
(Kenwood House: A museum of food mixers here)
In the other direction, although unlikely to have been able to see the river, he would otherwise have had much of the city of London laid out before him: Regents Park, St. Marylebone Church, Westminster ahead, To the east The Monument and St. Pauls. Closer, and those symbols of mercantile might, the railway stations: George Gilbert Scott’s St. Pancras, an exceptional example of the Gothic Revival, flanked by Kings Cross and Euston. Together they presented an unequivocal statement of intent by the railway companies. To the West, and moving away from the ‘dirty’ money – soiled as it were, by work and toil, the relative calm and tranquility of the Palace and Royal Parks.
Think of the possibilities he had – The Houses of Parliament made using empty carbolic soap boxes, The Monument using packets of tea, and Sloane’s liniment bottles, The Old Bailey, a triumph of Soda Syphons and their cases, Kenwood House with timber pilfered from the rail depot at Finchley Road.
You know, in the light of this, I’m of the opinion that we ought to look at dreams and what they mean in a lot more detail.
What do you think? Send in your ideas. Use the comment space after this post.
I awoke pondering last night’s handiwork: St. Paul’s Cathedral and key buildings of architectural and/or historical interest in the Newgate St, Bishopsgate and Mansion House ‘triangle’ such as St.Mary le Bow and the Bank of England.
All done using Wickes’ kitchen unit remnants, Howden’s drawer fronts and some Jewson timber off-cuts.
Success! Job done. Half a dozen ‘proper’ shirts, enough T shirts to start a medium-sized stall on Wembley Market. My ‘Iggy and the Stooges’ tour T shirt (extra extra care) two delicates I didn’t dare take a chance with, accompanied by a sort of ‘Sedimentary Layer’ of socks, pants etc.
All washed, dried and found approporiate homes for before close of play!
Of course these ‘appropriate homes’ – come Monday morning turn out to be nothing more than a fading mirage: as socks, pants, shirts, braces, cummerbunds, heavily starched cotton collars, Cowboy Boots, Do-Bocks and neat little pocket handkerchiefs appear in the most unlikley places. Places I swear I didn’t put them on Sunday … That’s if they appear at all.
A dear old friend goes under the surgeon’s knife tomorrow at Newcastle Upon Tyne’s RVI. Here at ‘Sitting Comfortably?’ we are hoping that it is successful. Love and best wishes Tim.’
The last year, he revived, and toured in its entirety his ground-breaking 1973 oddity “A Wizard A True Star.” It is an eclectic (that word again) and ideosyncratic stream of consciousness, sequenced as a continuous medley and featuring a ‘varied range’ of songs set in dazzling arrangements with innovative production; Rundgren experimenting with and exploiting virtually every studio effect and technique then available. Although it featured predominantly original material, it also included a version of “Never Never Land”, and a medley of soul classics* sadly packaged in one of the worst covers ever.
Here I was minding my own business, being agreeably insomniac, when all of a sudden I’m having these dreams. And not only that, but recurring dreams too. I never have recurring dreams: I’ve had ‘The Old Hag’ dream and woken up to find her sitting on my chest (I’ll tell you about it one day) but never recurring dreams.
Sitting Comfortably? 