Just a quickie

Our fair Blog-maiden has once again abandoned us and nobody seems to have had time to update our fans on Rudsambee's antics this week.

So here, instead, is the climax of our concert in the Reid Concert Hall - Eric Whitacre's Cloudburst. Ally kindly pointed her camera at us while Helen M had her fancy equipment recording the whole concert, so it's moderately watchable.

The week after the...erm...weekend before

Universally acknowledged is the fact that the week after a concert (especially one as spiffing as Saturday night), Rudsambee-lets tend to go a little wild and become ever more unmanageable for ol' Maestro Boy, those who attend anyway. Last night was no exception. I will put the general chaos partly down to learning a new little ditty which is entitled Don't it make my brown eyes blue. In A-L's southern American drawl it sounded like a throwback to an Arthur Miller play and her suggestion of a voiceover during the final chorus ("I'm so blue... what can I do... without you?" etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum) was greeted with great enthusiasm. This, btw, is a song beloved of our York friends who we will be visiting in a matter of weeks. Now I am of the opinion that jazz (especially jazz with a touch of swing and a smattering of blues) causes perfectly respectable choral groups to regress into hysterical madness. Once again I was proved entirely correct. It is like a disease.

In fact, after the delights of the weekend, we challenged ourselves to two new pieces last night with a lulluby by Gorecki as well(haven't worked out how to correctly pronounce his name yet - leave it with me). While we are, in true Rudsambee fashion, singing this song in Polish, we took a quick peek at the translation which roughly seems to read, "Go to bed and grow up". This sentence of course could have many meanings depending on whether it is sung by a kindly mother looking fondly at her sweet child and thinking of the future when he will be a strong man or by a cross mother sick of her child's endless whining for the latest Wii game. Maestro Boy's recital sounded remarkably like the latter.

This next item will cause a shock wave to ripple, nay, tsunami (can that word be used as a verb - I don't care, I'm the Lord of the grammatical rules round here) around the Music Department of the University of Edinburgh. We took a quick look at Wade in the Water last night. We attempted this one before but consigned it to the proverbial Rudsambee waste paper bin. Maestro Boy (a man with a first class degree in music no less) looked at the sheet music asfresh and bemoaned the lack of variety for the poor ol' basses who "only get to sing a E except for one C near the end". We all agreed that this was a poor show indeed and reflected the generally dull nature of this piece (unless Eva Cassidy sings it in which case I rather like it). That is until Editor King (who also, as it happens, has a perceptive eye) pointed out that Maestro Boy was reading the percussion line. University degrees dumbing down? I think this proves it beyond any doubt.

Finally we listened to Helen's recording of Cloudburst from the triumph of Saturday night. Despite a couple of moments where we had a collective cringe, it really sounded good. What a great night that was! Speaking of the concert, thanks again to all those who came. Loads of money (I really mean loads of money) was raised for a great cause so cheers for putting your hand in your pockets. Claire 2's Lenny Henry/Comic Relief/ensure there are some 'sad footage' close ups and some jolly 'we're here to help' aftershots-esque speech seemed to work wonders (sorry about that sentence, try it again...). Jen wondered if she could have a recording so she could wander round Tesco's with a begging bowl.

And with that I must get back to a perculiar play by Louis MacNeice. Bet you wish you were me.

CSW

ps If you feel the need to pay this much for a copy, get in touch and we can almost certainly undercut the seller.

The concert lowdown

Evening all, well I am safely tucked up in my sweats with a Diet Coke and some proggy Genesis for company to give you the lowdown on tonight's concert.

Well, what can I say? What a great experience! Tonight was one of the best concerts I have ever had the pleasure to be involved with. Everyone was on fire. Maestro Boy led us with more than his usual brilliance and we even watched him on occasions and (cor blimey!) once or twice followed his lead! So the concert contained a bit of jolly Tormis (Anne is her introduction to Lulling said that we had all come to love Tormis... I think some might beg to differ!), some of our old friends Lauridsen and Betinis (Envoi was the usual stressful, clinging-on experience for the Sop2s but I think we nailed it. Kind of), a bit of clashy Part, a touch of Vaughan Williams, Jede Sedlak (minus folders!), some French fun (Mirren, you'll be pleased to know that our pronunciation was largely excellent comprehensible not terrible), Hide and Seek, Green Fir Forest (which, much to our collective surprise came off quite well) and a great big helping of Eric Whitacre.

In fact we did two of our Whitacre numbers this evening. We took another crack at Five Hebrew Love Songs which was wonderful (we even got a clap after the second movement!). I think I can say that we universally love this piece of music; cheers to Aaron for playing violin for us again. Then of course came the piece de resistance Cloudburst!. Now, anyone who has been following this blog since the start (it's been a year now, folks!) will know that this piece has had a seriously long gestation period. But man, tonight it all came together. We were joined by some great percussionists, a marvellous pianist, the fabulous Holy Trinity Handbell group from Haddington and, you will be pleased to hear if you have followed our percussion saga over the past few weeks, an intact bass drum and a very large piece of wobbling metal than sounded nothing like dear ol' Rolf. When we got to the climax of the storm it really felt like the roof of the Reid Hall might just lift right off its foundations. An incredible, joyful night. Thanks to all the musicians who made it happen. We couldn't have done it without you - or at least the stormy bits would have sounded decidedly less, erm, stormy.

My introduction highlight of the night was definitely from Monsieur Wexler who always does a funny intro (although not always purposefully so). Tonight's was no exception as he introduced The Spring Time of the Year by saying that Vaughan Williams liked the tune of this one but found the lyrics a bit dull... all 8 or so verses! So VW restricted himself to two verses of the, and I quote, "... fairly predictable nautical romance". Ah, John sure has a way of putting things.

So hopefully we raised a pretty packet for the kids of the Balkans to learn about friendship and fun through the medium of music [Around £1,000 it would seem]. Here's also hoping that Editor King will have some piccies for us over the coming days [Oh, okay then] (and perhaps even a wee video [you'll have to wait until we sync it up to the good quality audio; if you're really keen to hear it then have a browse on YouTube]) so keep checking back to Relative Pitch for that.

I'm off to make a cup of tea and bask in the joy that was Rudsambee and friends at Reid Hall. Thanks if you came and supported us tonight - the audience were very encouraging and we even received a box of Millionaire's shortbread from two of our biggest fans. Trust me, you know you've made it when you start receiving gifts from your groupies - especially eatables!

See you Wednesday

CSW

A Summer Saturday at the Reid Hall

Well, it was a hot ol' day in Auld Reekie today. And we Rudsambee-lets were encamped at the Reid Hall for a run through of 'Cloudburst' with pianist, cymbalist and big bass drummist...drummer - sorry. Well I tell you what, two weeks ago this piece sounded like a jumble of random notes, today it sounded bloomin' brilliant. It is a very exciting piece to sing and we are loving it. I had a bit of a struggle with a rogue music stand, we are still battling through with a smaller thunder sheet than we would like and a loud band (plugged into a generator no less - eh?) were playing in Bristo Square, but largely we had a terrific rehearsal in the lead up to next week. My vote for funniest moment of the afternoon award goes to Anne for finding a jingly piano-like instrument to play in place of bells. The gentlemen of Rudsambee moved said instrument closer to Anne so she could play it while watching Maestro Boy. Her stance and one-handed keys playing reminded me of a proper rock synth star - brilliant!

Well after spending most of the practice bashing through 'Cloudburst' we moved on to 'Green Fir Forest' (actually I was impressed with how much of this we remembered - on a painful-listening gradation system of 1 to 10 it only ranked a 6 1/2...you've got to be pleased with that!). We then sang a bit of Tormis. 'Lulling' has now been offically re-Christened 'Baa-Ram-Ewe' due to the support parts. A sheep-based song for late Spring.

And in a final note, big congratulations have to go to Maestro Boy and Soprano extraordinaire Helen who both passed their degrees with flying colours this week. To have two real musicians with certificates in our ranks is very exciting for us mere mortals who will always struggle with sight-reading and identifying an harmonic forth.

Put next Saturday in your diaries folks. It is going to be fab! More on Wednesday.

CSW

It's starting to sound like an actual piece of music!

A pertinent reference to Cloudburst. Last night we sang it right through minus the bells (the bells, the bells!) and we (shock horror!) can actually sing it. Different Rudsambeelets had a chance to sit in the audience to listen to the rest of us and all looked thoroughly chuffed/moved/excited by this incredible Whitacre piece.

In fact, a week on Saturday will be a proper Whitacrefest (like Woodstock but without the long hair and pot. Probably.) with both Cloudburst and Five Hebrew Love Songs. We rattled through the latter last night as well. Now we hadn't sang this since last summer and Rudsambeelets have notoriously poor memories, but honestly, it sounded t'riffic. Can't wait to add a couple of instruments to the melee. Theremin anyone? (see a previous post for an explanation of this jolly instrument of brilliance. Ah, the cyclical nature of conversation a la Rudsambee).

Now last night the sopranos were branded as 'vicious' by Maestro Boy. Unfair you may think but the poor Bass1s (I hasten to add that all basses were present and correct last night) looked thoroughly forlorn while the sops bashed on through. As well as Whitacre-excitement we sang Jede Sedlak without music - sounded dreadful the first time, better the fifteenth. And we tried En Une Seule Fleur again for the first time since the heady days of 2008. A brief heads up to Mirren here as we had a couple of very jolly French pronunciation queries which I won't share with you. Suffice to say "fois toi" is very difficult for this Anglo-Saxon tongue to sing quickly... and in tune. "Devinir" also caused a little contention. Currently it sounds like a description of an inhabitant of of a southern English county (try saying it with flat North English vowels and you'll see what I mean). We'll get there eventually. Again, we were all a little amazed that we could remember this one, particularly Kay2 and Oliver2, neither of whom has ever sung it.

So we're now looking forward to Saturday for a rehearsal at the Reid Hall. Muchos jolliness. Bells, drums and jingly percussive sounds. What larks! Put the Saturday after in your diaries as you don't want to miss the excitement of Cloudburst. It is going to be brilliant.

Until Saturday

CSW

How to carry a big bass drum...

…this is out current Cloudburst dilemma. How can a big bass drum (um tiddly um pum pum) be transported from Tollcross to the Reid Hall? Answers on a postcard please – my current favourite solution is hoisting it from a helicopter but I am open to other suggestions.

Well, another Wednesday night has been and gone. Last night’s rehearsal was a tiring one as we prepare for the jollies of two June concerts. We began with a Rachel led warm-up in which we sung Hebrew with a Brummie accent. Don’t ask!

Last week we were without our two Bass1s; this week the two Bass2s had gone AWOL, leaving us a little thin on the bottom (oo-er). But Maestro Boy stepped up to the plate and sung the low notes (quietly!); as Angus said, “being a bass isn’t that easy”. Cloudburst is really coming together. Our only slight concern last night was the whispered "la lluvia" which comes immediately after A-L’s beautiful wee solo line (after a prompt from Kay, A-L is now singing this line in time though I must admit I quite liked her dotted take on it). We hardly ever practice this whispered moment and are in constant fear (ok, that may be a little strong) that we will entirely forget it on the night. When we do attempt it we all sound like Lord Voldemort from ‘Harry Potter’. It should be noted that Helen does a quite terrifying impression of said Lord of Darkness – quite uncanny!

We also (joy upon joys) got our thunder sheet out last night for the first time. After a quick rendition of the Rolf Harris classic Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport (a thunder sheet is not a wobble board – is that the right word? I’m doubting myself now) we sang the ‘stormy bit’ with the excitement of a real thunderclap or two. It was noted that the thunder sheet (which is just a big sheet of metal really) might be a little small when it comes to the big storm. It was suggested that we find a sheet we can "do a roll on”. Of course that leaves you with a wonderful image of gymnastic moves and expressionistic dance, though I think it was a drum roll not a forward roll that was expected. Anyways, we are on the look out for a bigger metal sheet... just in case anyone has one lurking in the garage.

With the Wexler’s away (and Christopher looking after the house - just in case anyone reading this is intent on robbing Chez Wexler while the owners enjoy a break, Christopher has a very mean tickle!) Rufus is pining and sounded as if he was screaming almost the entire evening. Christopher decided he needed a cat gag. I have a great cat gag for you: What is the difference between a cat and a comma? One has the paws before the claws and the other has the clause before the pause. Brilliant! Thanks to online cat jokes for that one - yes, there really is a website devoted entirely to jokes about felines - whatever next?

May I conclude with a response to our esteemed Editor’s comments of last week re vinyl? Though I manage to look extremely youthful, I do actually remember records and can exclusively reveal here that my first single (the highly acclaimed Cliff Richard Christmas classic, Mistletoe and Wine) was indeed in this format, played on a red record player I bought for a few pounds at a Guide jumble sale. Furthermore, when on Bleecker Street, New York just last year (man, that sounds incredibly cool!) we purchased two old records. We don’t actually have anything to play them on but the artwork is brightening up our spare room. I am glad to have had the opportunity to respond.

Next week we are rehearsing at Priestfield and then we have a Saturday rehearsal as well so brace yourself for a blogging double whammy. Until then...

CSW


p.s. Chris says, if anyone wants to print a flyer, here they are:



And in other news, Eric Whitacre provides a link to this on his blog, saying that he is one of "...a few morons out there who think this crap is among the funniest and most brilliant works of art ever created." A telling glimpse into the mind of a composer:

Parlez vous francais?

I'll tell you what: Rudsambee is full of linguistic geniuses (genii?). Tonight there was a real conversation in French and there were a number of active participants. The conclusion of our French friend [Helena} on our Debussy linguistic skills? C'est bien! Anyways, we began with the joys of a Clare2 warmup which consisted of s slightly bonkers succession of silly breathing exercises. Muchos fun!

Particular appreciation must be extended to Susan who spent an hour and a half last week writing up the substantial rehearsal notes. She will hereby be known affectionately as Chief Minute Taker (no disrespect to Rachael, the Minute Secretary) (Minute as in meetings not as in tiny, although she is our most petite member).

Cloudburst, as usual, marked the central piece of the rehearsal. John certainly had the best comment of night... apparently (and I second this, BTW) we are waiting in anticipation for the basses to slap their thighs. It must be said at this point (just to clear it up for the sops - Miles and A-L I am addressing you) we are slapping our own thighs not each others. Of course there is then the clapping. This is not "Robin clapping" (our tenor extraordinaire has the loudest clap known to man, more than one seismic shift has been caused by the tremendous noise) but normal, quietish clapping. Do you know, we really sounded rather good. Stop the presses! Cloudburst actually sounds like a piece of music. We then 'chunked' and sang it to our French friend (name King Editor?) [see above, Blogstress]. Now the verb 'to chunk' is a new admission into the Oxford English Dictionary (long version not the abridged). The origin of this word is, well, a Rudsambee rehearsal in February 2009. 'To chunk' means 'to group together in a small clump while still being able to see the waving hand and expressive eyebrows (he has quite expressive eyebrows) of Maestro Boy'. So there you go. That's one to use in your everyday conversation this week.

We also returned to an album favourite with Hide and Seek this evening. It sounded surprisingly impressive considering we haven't touched it since June. This is our 'popular music' piece. We weren't sure we were ready to embark upon pop music but actually it is pretty good, if very low, particularly for the altos who sound a little like the noise hippos make when they surface. No offence meant to my alto friends, of course.

News of the week, we are having a social evening in March. This is an excuse for some ridiculous photographs to be posted on this blog. Hoorah! Clare2 said that we were 'all most welcome' to her house for the event - we couldn't decide if she actually meant we were 'almost welcome'. I'll keep you informed on this one.

Anyways, I am off to get very excited that I only have two more sleeps before I head to London to see two of the greatest rockers of their generation play their own unique mix of guitar riff wonderment and synth brilliance. After writing the post last week my mother presumed I was heading to London last weekend. Brilliant. My Mum is now taking my weekly schedule from the Rudsambee blog. This weekend Rudsambee has a Saturday rehearsal (which I am missing because - and maybe I haven't mentioned this - I'm going to London!) and hopefully King Editor will write something profound in this very space to fill you in. [Actually, Claire2 has kindly agreed to write something up. And we are anticipating a London report from our masterful Blogstress as well!]

Until then... happy rocking fans
CSW

Cows - watch out for the running theme of the post!

So as to make up for the lateness of the last post, this post is written in the veryhour after our rehearsal finished. Just like Fleet Street fans. Bring me copy! etc. Well, this evening's songfest was a cacophony of laughter and hilarity so King Editor suggested that I write a serious post with none of the usual quips. However, like JK Rowling I have only one writing style; she has Harry Potter as her Muse, I have Maestro Boy. I cannot, unfortunately, construct a serious post however hard I try, which is a bad omen when it comes to things like condolence cards and the writing of wills. However, I digress...

We began tonight's rehearsal with the joy of an A-L warm-up. Always a jolly affair, A-L got us touching our toes and giving ourselves a shake. We then made noises like cows (you aren't surprised? Well ,there you are) followed by a beautiful rendition of Irish Blessing. A-L got us to form a huddle (like pre-footie match) with arms over each other's shoulders, and sing to each other. I'm not sure I have experienced such a moving musical experience. John even closed his eyes to prevent his tears from falling... or it might have been because he didn't want to catch Jen's eye. It is a fact universally acknowledged that during a Rudsambee warmup one should never never ever no never catch Jen's eye. It is a dangerous thing and generally you, and she, end up snorting.

As promised we began the tough bit of Cloudburst tonight. Yes, that's right, the bit that splits into fifteen parts (for less than one bar , mind you)and involves us clicking, clapping and slapping our thighs. The image in your minds must be a keeper. Anyways, we did it all rather well actually and managed to work out what when to click and when to clap - and even when to sing a couple of notes! Now, I lost it for a bit in the middle there because Anne and Maestro Boy decided to have an intricate conversation about, well, musical things. As confessed last week I am the one who failed my first round of Grade 5 music theory so don't ask me what they were talking about, they may as well have been speaking Arabic backwards... oh hold it, that's how it always works. So apparently we are performing antiphonal clicks and the scale before the crazy click sequence is in Friesian mode. Hold it, it might not have have been Friesian come to think of it... it may well be that cow image again. Anyways, ask Maestro Boy for the accurate terminology. [Chris says: Phrygian, dear blogstress.]

We finished with a quick run through the Debussy and then (as is customary) a little bit of Tormis. It was Kanarbik tonight (the one where A-L sings a top Z or something; I tickled her mid-squeal tonight and, like a true professional, the note didn't even quiver) and we spent a good long time trying to get the chords tuned well. We then sang it through, ending up in great hilarity as the basses came in sounding like the cows of A-L's warmup. Granted it is a very low note but honestly, how funny was it!? Suffice to say we didn't hit the final chords through our laughter!

Anyways, on that note I only have a celebratory cheer for Robin and Elaine who, combined, are aged 90 this week. Blimey! I'll leave it to you to decide which one is thirty and which is sixty (or any other combination)! On the way home Rach and I discussed the merits of Genesis and Simon and Garfunkel - a couple of musical recommendations for you there. Oh, and we talked about rock stars who cut their hair and both decided that Dave Gilmour improves with age. Goodness, that's his second mention in as many weeks.

Have a fabulous week. This week I will mostly be getting excited about heading to the capital to see my favourite rockers' gig. Hope you have an equally thrilling (I mean that in all sincerity - I've just realised that generally we only use the word thrilling in a sarcastic manner) week. Stay out of the way of any rampaging cows. Or Basses. They sound similar so may be mistaken for one another in fields...

CSW

"Lower and meatier"

Not tonight's dinner, blog fans but an apt description of Rudsambee's bass section (from Maestro Boy no less and he should know being an all-round musical genius and all). Firstly, gargantuan apologies for the lateness of the post folks. Life has been beyond chaotic and last night (when I should have been coming up with my usual mix of enlightening reportage and humourous quips) I fell asleep on my sofa after a falafel dinner while listening to Dave Gilmour's dulcet tones. Hereby ends my excuse.

So back to Wednesday night, then. Rach led our warm up which was a very jolly affair and found us balancing our folders on our heads (I've lost mine currently so I had to borrow one from ex libris Wexler) while standing on one leg and singing My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean. Yes, it would only happen in Rudsambee. I am quite sure the King's Singers don't begin their rehearsal times in such a manner.

We spent much time on the Debussy this evening, all crammed round the piano. It is actually beginning to sound like a song (I know - unbelievable, huh!), as long as we count! We then moved on (as is our wont at present) to Cloudburst. This is fast turning into my highlight of the week (sorry this blog is moving slowly tonight; I am struggling to type due to sore guitar fingers. You know, played it 'til my fingers bled back in the summer of '69). A-L and I worked out that my joy in choir is directly proportional to the amount of Eric Whitacre we sing. This piece is beginning to sound great. And tonight we reached that bit we've all been waiting for - the 7 sopranos. As mentioned last week (week before, week before that... oh I don't know, they all just merge together at present) there is a point in this piece when the sopranos have to split into seven. Goodness, is the world of musical creativity ready for such a vocal experiment. Well, I am just glad I'm not singing the top line. A-L counted the amount of different notes in one chord at this point in the piece - 15! Yes, 15 blog fans. Now that is... well... it's a lot.

That's it for tonight ladies and gents. My left hand index finger is still aching. Hope everyone has a jolly weekend. We'll see you next week.

CSW

Whitacre to Debussy

How versatile are we? From the former to the latter in 90 minutes. As usual though we opened with a warm up. Jen led which is always jolly (see last week's wee game) and we attempted to sing some really quite straight forward ditties. However, we struggled slightly quite a bit, which I put down to either being tired after a hard day at the office/making jam/lounging around music departments/concocting peculiar experiments (that one's for you Robin, in your absence) or else just being very stoopid. I will leave you to make up your own minds, blog fans. Poor Jenny looked a bit miffed at how rubbish we were. Sorry Jen! We'll try harder, honest.

Anyways we spent most of the evening (as last week) on Cloudburst and I must say that, after A-L's brief language class, our Spanish (sorry, Mexican) is really starting to sound quite good. I may buy a sombrero to celebrate. Actually, we had managed to remember much of what we had learned the week before which was fairly impressive. Comment of the night certainly went to Maestro Boy who suggested that the Tenors "come out of the ladies". What he meant of course was that, since the women have a beautiful floaty passage to sing, the gentlemen should be equally ethereal (great word) on their entry (oo-er). I, however, had an image reminiscent of the Alien films (which I haven't seen BTW so I may well be making the next bit up) where the, well, alien comes straight out of a lady's tummy. Nice image for you there, hope you are all enjoying your supper! Suffice to say that by the end of the evening it was all starting to sound rather lovely. I think a lot of us are very excited about the prospect of singing this fabulous piece.

We moved on to Dieu! qu'il la fait bon regarder!, our new bit of Debussy [Wow, he looks like he should be one of our Tenors there!] which Maestro Boy thought was going to be hard but actually, after the pyrotechnics (not literally, sadly) of Cloudburst, it proved to be a straightforward and beautiful piece. The only thing you have to watch is the rhythms. Oh, and the amount of incidentals accidentals [cheeky editor] but that is by the by (incidentally - ha ha - I'm not sure if I have used the term incidentals in the right way here... what I mean is sharps and flats and stuff but as I only passed my music theory exam on my second attempt - and that only because the paper included some choral music much to the relief of yours truly - I am never quite sure what I am talking about. And that could probably go for most areas of my life...). I must hereby apologise for the grammar of the previous sentence; even I lost the gist halfway through.

On a couple of final notes, welcome to Kay2 who is filling in for Nat while she is on sabbatical. Hope you can stick it out. And big hugs to Tom who came back to visit. We have missed you man but are glad to see you looking so well.

Anyways, Guitar Hero World Tour beckons for a quick game. I have progressed to hard but am struggling slightly with the orange one, if you know what I mean. For another week.

CSW

"Is this not boring for anyone?"

This was the question from Maestro Boy to conclude tonight's festivities. The answer, my musically-adept friends, is certainly not. A little scared, yes; a little blown away, certainly; but bored? most definitely not. Indeed, how could one be bored when confronted with the behemoth (a little used and underrated word) that is Cloudburst.

After a jolly beginning when we played In my grandmother's basket (a Jennified version of 'I went to the shops') using only vowels (I know, I know!), we spent the rest of the rehearsal on 'Cloudburst'. Last week we discussed the usefulness of 'Twinkle Twinkle' in finding a fifth. This week it's the classic Blue Danube that came in handy. The opening chord is basically the beginning 4 notes of the Strauss (don't ask me which of this impressive dynasty wrote it) piece.

It was a really exciting evening of chanting, learning Spanish (sorry Mexican), clashing chords and the prospect of handbells. Actually an even scarier prospect was brought to our attention this evening. In bar 75, ladies and gentlemen, the sopranos split into 7 - yes that's right, 7. Count how many sopranos there are? By a happy and handy coincidence, there are 7. As Alison put it, this is the piece we were born to do! Perhaps, however, Maestro Boy has been retaining all 7 of us purely to do this piece. Perhaps after our June performance he will do a Soprano cull, like a fox or badger (warning: noisy link!) cull but with, well, Sopranos. We are watching out backs.

Anyways, after last week's incredible linkage by Editor extraordinaire Christopher, I am hoping for similar excitement this week, though, as we agreed, if the linkage takes longer to do than the actual writing of the piece then we are probably overdoing it.

Hoping you all have a marvellous week.

CSW