DF is coming back to Cornwall which is a good thing. He's a new album out don't ya know? He muses, however, "I listen to so much music and I pretty much feel comfortable singing all of it, so I didn't want to come across as a guy who does nothing else but sit on a beach with an acoustic guitar, playing around a fire."
Dude?? What gives?? I've worked hard to get to that beach and bum around. Don't knock it or I'll make fun of that tea cosy you call a hat.
There's a prize going here - so pay attention! Something has been on my mind lately, what's left of it. Despite hearing either Donavon Frankenreiter or his, arguably, more famous pal Jack Johnson in just about every shop with hip aspirations going, I still enjoy his eponymous 1st album. Ok, so I'm a bit of a day dreamer and Sea Nymph says his music gets in the way of our love. She says I get so far away when I'm listening to his stuff but like, it don't matter - isn't that what chilled music ought to do? She doesn't understand the resonance of the vibe. Let me explain.
Last summer, I was heading home from the beach in my dune buggy. I was just reaching this bend in the road when the brakes failed and the vehicle starting free wheeling down the dual carriageway. Buggeration! I'm shelling past this bloke in a convertible on the outside lane. "What'cha know about brakes?" , I yell! "Swing on down to the footwell and hammer on that peddle!" he hollers back. It makes less than no sense to me, but "whack, whack" and the brakes are back.
Well, call me papa, call me Al, call me anything you want but even in extremis, I've a great eye for faces. Comes from being a social butterfly, I guess. The convertible is now speeding onwards past me, this great hairy happening of a dude waving ciao. I know that tache, it's the Frankenreiter himself! Wow, what a moment. Then I woke up and had my
cornflakes something more healthy.
PS no alcohol or nefarious substance was involved in the creation of this post, honest.