Essex Excess

On two cds of mp3s I have David Essex’s Rock On; Essex; All The Fun Of The Fair (these three I had at one time as lps); Imperial Wizard; Out On The Street; Gold & Ivory; Hot Love. Those first three were played & played. I was totally into this British pop sound, engineering was pristine, writing was inventive, sexy and his voice was great, plus he was sort of cute.

There was a sense of progression in those first three lps & the arraignments become more complex, the lyrics darker. Sadly though he never broke through into the US market – big in Europe he never mad eit big here after his first hit Rock On. I’m not even sure his later lps were released in North American because after All The Fun of the Fair he disappeared. He did have a film & stage career but that didn’t even ripple across the Atlantic.

So when I did the upgrades from lp, to mp3, I did a search to hear what else he had done & frankly, the later releases are competent but not as adventurous. I’m happy to hear them but they are for real fans. Those first three are worth seeking out those.

To round out these cds I’ve added some Canadian pop with Bachman–Turner Overdrive’s II, Not Fragile: fun heteronormative rock by some good old boys. Kiki Dee: best of – good voice, fine songs but not enough personality to break into the US market. Lemurian Congress: experimental electonica by a great Ontario band. Myke Mazzei: Septembering – a great collection by an criminally overlooked Toronto folk rocker – worth searching out.

Cook

Mike wasn’t accustomed to this sort of fuss. When he had attended gala film openings with Jack the attention was not on him or even Jack for that matter. He rather enjoyed it.

Each time the waiter came to the table it was under the watchful eye of the owner. The waiter would ask and then the owner would ask. He half expected the cook to be brought out at anytime.

‘You are enjoying this?’ Robert squeezed his hand under the table. ‘They like to please you.’ Robert dropped his voice to a murmur. ‘Almost as much as I like to please you.’

‘Am I blushing?’

‘One cannot tell in the candle light. If you are it suits you. You glow with happiness.’

‘Happiness and wine. I mean the wi-ar-jhra.’

‘Ah yes let there be more wiarjhra.’ Robert nodded to the waiter and another bottle of the thick red wiarjhra was brought to the table. ‘It is very good.’

‘Yes.’

The restaurant floated around Mike in an amber mist. The pressure of Robert’s hand under the table kept him from floating away. Was he drifting on waves of love, lust or this heady drink.

‘What is made of again?’ his tongue was thick. Was he speaking? Or thinking?

‘Mango.’

‘I see – mango to make a man go mad.’ Mike laughed at his own joke.

The waiter stood beside him, reached over to take his empty plate. He put his hand gently on Mike’s shoulder. Mike shuddered. He had a vision of the waiter flung across the room violently. Blood everywhere. Parts of his head crushed. More blood.

Mike stood. “I … I …. must …’

He stared at the waiter.

‘The messurs is  this way.’

The waiter pointed to the patio door. ‘If you would follow me.’

Mike walked, steadied by his vision. The effects of the wiarjhra cleared from his head and now were to be cleared from his bladder.

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