lazy hunter

A very fresh-faced Pete and I with Yannis. Years ago, Pete got me tickets to a tiny Foals warm up show for my birthday. It was amazing. After the show we're outside waiting for our taxi, and out strolls Yannis. Got chatting and asked him if they'd ever consider bringing back The French Open live. He paused for a while, then said "you know what... yeah, fuck it, we'll do it". Told him we were coming to another show later that week and he said they'd play it then.

Fsst forward a week and we're at the second show. Waiting the whole set, but no sign of this song. That's ok, we think, they probably didn't have time to rehearse it or just forgot. Then they go off... Come back on for an encore... BOOM! It's The French Open! We went mad for it, telling anyone who would listen that WE ASKED FOR THIS SONG!! Of course they thought it was bullshit, but we knew.

Let's hide away a while

Protect me with your smile

The air in here is warm;

It feels like I am home.

So let's watch the world burn

Out the living room window

Of the first-floor flat we love;

I'll serenade you on the violin.

You and me together,

You and me forever,

Even in inclement weather,

You and me together.

I've never felt so free -

With you, it feels like I am me.

So let's wait in here a while,

Protected by our smiles

And let's watch the lightning

From the big bay window

In the first-floor flat we love;

I'll serenade you on the violin.

You and me together,

You and me forever,

even in inclement weather,

You and me together.

And we danced our first dance,

And we cried into our hands

At the memories we could have had.

Remember when you gave me a chance?

And now I'm happiest when you stand

Shoulder to shoulder with me:

You and me,

Lazy Hunter - paradise (Acoustic)

When I was a teenager I used to work at a bakery/coffee shop in North West England. Ian Brown (of Stone Roses fame, for anyone who lives under a rock) lived nearby and used to come in regularly.

One time, I was at the counter when he sauntered in (doing the famous swagger). One of the other workers says to him "Oh, Ian! Our Chris is in a band - do you have any advice for him?"

I'm mortified; one does not simply ask Ian Brown for advice on their local band!

He looks at me silently for what feels like ages and then says: "Don't turn left".

My colleague and I look at each other, uncomprehending. What the hell does he mean!? But we can't ask, because he's actual Ian Brown, so we just kind of wait.

Eventually, he elaborates: "people in the music industry are gonna try and make you turn left. Don't turn left."

And then he grabs his pie, turns on his heel and swaggers away again.

I'm burning out

It's too loud

Can't hear me shouting out

On my own

Information overload

Stood, rooted to the ground

With colours streaming out my mouth

Don't know where I should start

Maybe I could do with checking out.

Stuck in fight or flight

A cortisol rollercoaster ride

What's the cost

Of switching off

My attention? Lost

Fickle, bored and vain

With colours radiating from my brain

Don't know where I should start

Maybe I could do with checking out

I could do with checking out

I could do with checking out