Record Duggie Chop's into, right this moment:

Record Duggie Chop's into, right at this moment: Muswell Hillbillies - The Kinks (1971)

Duggie Chop recommends:

Friday, 11 November 2011

I'm Duggie Chop - and I've franchised myself...

Hi, Duggie Chop here again. Been a while. There's a guy who's building a garage into a room. Or is he making a room out of a garage? Or conjuring up decorations out of cobwebs? Or does he just fancy Sarah Beeny or Kirsty Allslapper or sommat. Dunno ("Oi, Duggie - get to the point!" love from the 'eye in the sky') Yeahman, yeahman. Ok. So, there's this guy and he says: "Duggie, like can I use yer blogspot for a bit. You know. I'm building a room in me garage" I'm like, John parrot-phrasing him there (or wotever the term is, like). He's from Denmark or somewhere. Might even be southern England. Anyway, somewhere miles away. And I'm thinking. Why not? Not as if I've posted anything for about 11 months. What happened back then is I got folded into an envelope. Yeh, right. An envelope - but not the type wot your thinking neither. No. It was like I was trapped in space like nowhere. You know, like the Yellow Submarine and Nowhere Man. Yer know? So me and me mate were both in there. Fishing, through that hole in Ringo's pocket, through the white. (I won't say ice, cos it wasn't. Just white. Like the Blue Peter studio when they used to show people round it from Jim'll Fix It (RIP Sir Jim'll Saveloy OBE). When they showed them around it was like a white face, with a couple of side-burn wearing speccy-four-eyes technicians laughing while manipulating a bit of flex or a camera). So we were in that, 'envelope' like I called it for around 10 months, when this 'Danish' guy or someone from Sussex said about using me blog. His name's Dougie Spread (that's Dougie pronounced 'Doogey', just like a spaz). And I let him have the password. Me and me mate got out of envelope after the guy found us. He was peering through me hole at the time. I thought he was a haddock. By the way, that Pike we had with us cleared off. You just can't get the fish these days. Look - what I'm trying to say is...what I'm having trouble saying is...someone else might be appearing on these pages, talking about his garage. He's paying me and all, so it's not that bad. You just might get bored. So don't blame me! Right! Just complain to this, this Doooogey-spricking-Spread. Or whatever. Anyway. We've (that's me and me mate) have been listening to the Muswell Hillbillies by the Kinks, from 1971. "It's brilliant, Doug" - hey readers, that's me mate talking. You know, this blog is Me and Duggie Chop Talk Music. He's 'me'. He's right and all. It is a brilliant album. It's all, like, woody, like a beefy version of Billy Bragg's last album, but with devastatingly cool lyrics. "It's like someone having a cup of tea in the dust pan of middle America." He's right.

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