THE FEED

I'm convinced the best songs are written when you're supposed to be doing something else.

Mixing in headphones tonight. The neighbors are sleeping and the foam is melting.

The album Eight Days a Month is available everywhere you can get it, which is here. Buy it, stream it, tell a friend who owns a turntable.

Took the long way home through the market. Bought flowers, a used paperback and a plum.

Cooked a very big pot of dal and played the same record seven times. Sunday done.