Another little tune-sketch from your ever-incomplete but always searching friend, Quill.

A transcription of Prima's brilliant original recording. I recorded this attempting to catch some of the character of the reeds and horns using an electric guitar plugged into an amp - that's it. Once all the horn parts were multitracked, the…

Well it seems your quill is alone rather a lot, of late. The silver lining - and surely it has to be a trick of the light, that shimmer on things, redoubtably more mercurial than arg-arg-argentic - is time freely spend a-practicin', and even the…

Well it seems your quill is alone rather a lot, of late. The silver lining - and surely it has to be a trick of the light, that shimmer on things, redoubtably more mercurial than arg-arg-argentic - is time freely spend a-practicin', and even the…

I sometimes feel alone with my spaghetti. But I'm never alone when I'm with my drummer! Though being alone with a drummer can be scary. At times such as these - frightened, alone, hungry, with a drummer - I am driven to ask: WWFSMD?

Oh, my holy noodles. *Another* bloody 12-bar in E, and what's worse, it's a *slow* blues. Every guitar player who deems it appropriate to play a slow blues in E, in this the 21st, should be roasted like a head of garlic, smeared across a toasted…

My improvisation project is getting interesting. The centre of this track is at 2:08, where the drums pick up a guitar phrase that begins at 2:03, and then take over the melodic line, while the guitar shifts position to background the drums. The…

(this track's a bit hot, mind it doesn't hurt your ears, please) So many reasons for sorrow. One sees from within sorrow, and sees only sorrow. But we must look awry at these weeping walls, these streaking-blind windows: they are of our own…

My new trio. This is just us, warming up at the beginning of our last rehearsal before our first gig. Just stupid stuff - you know, foolin' around in E and suchlike - but the guitar sound is wonderful, best sound I've ever had. One mic, corner…

Languid be the lineaments of this trio-set meditation upon the lost turret-board brilliance of 1974. The bottles yet burn brightly, and as the fabric of time is folded, Silver comes back to Black. The sparkles in the air about the driving mountain…