Enormous. Jazz musician Ashley Morgan, Saxophonist Paul Varga and Singer Davy Lawrence
The Music of Ashley Morgan, Paul Varga and Davy Lawrence. A Big Arena Records / E&R Records / 447 Records production
I just realised that I made a pun in my last post but didn’t make the most of it.
I said that Big Arena Records (the label that I set up with Ashley Morgan and Paul Varga all those years ago) following the lead of Ashley Morgan’s other record labels and going analogue. I then went on to say that Audrey was being employed as chief stamp licker.
Audrey is a dog.
Following the lead.
Get it?
I’ll get my coat and return with other record label and dog inspired puns.
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Big Arena Records, the independent record label started by yours truly along with Ashley Morgan and Paul Varga has just recruited its latest member.
Big Arena Records has followed the lead of Ashley Morgan’s other record labels and gone analogue, leading us back into a world that we are much more familiar and comfortable with.
Audrey’s role is chief stamp licker, a job that she relishes and one that is very important in this new analogue age we are going back to.
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Audrey has become a fan of Enormous and also a fan of my, Paul Varga and Ashley Morgan’s record label Big Arena Records. She will be issued with two fan rosettes sometime later today once we pick them up from the printers. The local press have been informed and have promised to send their top hot-shot photographer to mark the occasion.
Today the Mansfield Chad (the local free rag), tomorrow the world. Because if we can persuade one newspaper to take a photograph of a dog becoming a fan of a band and our record label and get some local interest then who knows what we can blag from the hungry news hounds (no dog pun intended).
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Ashley Morgan, jazz musician and Enormous trumpet player, has told me and the rest of the band, including a very confused looking Audrey, that he plans to go fully analogue in the next 12 months.
Quite what he means I really can’t imagine.
He says he’s going to only record his own music using analogue equipment, keeping the path from recording to release completely analogue. That means recording on tape, mixing and mastering on tape, and releasing on vinyl.
I suppose that jazz is a good candidate for analogue but I honestly can’t say that I think the pros outweigh the cons on this one. We shall have to wait and see. The end product will be interesting and, according to Ashley Morgan, have more humanity than anything digital every could (and I agree with him on that point, salient as it is), but the costs will be huge.
Time to go shopping for a new tape machine.
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‘But you’re all right, aren’t you, father?’
‘Yes, of course I am, Audrey,’ I told my concerned little dog. ‘I’m just ever so slightly a bit exhausted. The doctor says I have been running myself into the ground and need to have a few days off just doing nothing.’
‘Oh,’ she barked, somewhat relieved, and went on scanning the road ahead for cats.
We passed a new piece of graffiti on the rec’ which read ‘Simo is a homosexal gay’ which made me chuckle to myself – not that Simo is gay; I was aware of that already, but the fact that he is a homosexal gay, which is a damning qualification and singular piece of public information that I’m sure will surprise quite a lot of the local inhabitants.
‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ my doctor had just told me.
‘I know; but what about drugs? Can I have some drugs? Drugs are good medicine.’
‘I can’t prescribe you any drugs, Mr Lawrence – you just need a rest.’
Thus it is I have decided to take myself off to the Kellogg’s Sanatorium in the hills and spend a few days in equable convalescence.
‘But you are incapable of relaxing, father. The experience will cause you to become even more anxious than you are already.’
‘Be quiet, Audrey!’ I told her. ‘Let’s go home and get some work done.’
A young woman in a short skirt was delivering leaflets when we turned into Lansbury Avenue. She was beautiful. I tugged Audrey’s lead and quickened our pace, feeling a sudden and urgent need to return home and prepare for my inevitable eleven o’clock tumescence.
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