Seven Swans-a-Swimming

I’ve seen Marillion a couple of times.

The first time was before they were that well known, at St Andrews Hall in Norwich. I have memories of standing in a packed hall, everybody jumping up and down like crazy (we called it dancing, and back then perhaps it was), and Fish repeatedly telling people to move back as those at the front were being crushed against the stage.

The second time was post-Kayleigh and at Wembley Arena. I remember the big man was pretty angry with Boy George, who’d been badmouthing the band. He called him a c**t and promised to give him a Glasgow kiss if they ever met. It was impressive stuff.

Tonight I shall mark the exit of 2012 with a Kylie Minogue DVD and a small glass of cherry brandy.

You may mock my taste, just as long as you don’t turn up on my doorstep – I don’t play well with others and I seldom share.

Happy New Year to all and sundry.

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