Just over a month to my 42nd birthday and any last hope of my being cool is gone. I turned on the radio on my way home from CapCity and was excited that they were playing ‘Breakfast in America’ by Supertramp. I definitely wasn’t tuned into to 107.1 KGSR. Having spent the evening among mainly 20 year olds with whom I have nothing in common it was comforting to go back to 1979. And to find that I still know all the words, having memorised them from Smash Hits magazine – even the middle verse where they want kippers for breakfast and hope they have them in Texas. It’s certainly not as good a song as The Logical Song but it had me shifting around in my seat and yelling out the ba-ba-ba-dow bit with the window down, until I realised how damn cold it was.
I think I’m just a bit stuck in that era right now because of the solo show I’m writing about Queen, which starts off in 1977. I was talking about the show to a couple of comics at the club last night and explaining that although it isn’t actually written, it will be totally fantastic at the February premiere. They expressed some surprise that it wasn’t yet completed, as in ‘holy shit Maggie, that’s less than two months away, are you serious?’. So to be a little more realistic, I’m downgrading the show from totally fantastic, to hell at least I finished it.
Oh and the CapCity shows went ok.