I like it when people send me interesting things that they've made. While I'm still digesting Fred Frith's acoustic guitar CD, today's mail brought Bill Drummond's new book in which I make a couple of very tiny appearances. It's with some reluctance that I've put it down to type this and catch up with some emails. Like 45, it's largely episodic, so it's very easy to open it at random and get caught up in a narrative, a train of thought, or just a wild idea. People like Bill are important because when they see something, they don't just see what's there, they see what could be there. Now isn't that really How To Be An Artist?

I listened to a lacklustre concert in Edinburgh this morning which made me doubt all the things that DG and I had been telling the participants at Boxwood, about involving your whole body and self in music-making. Today's performer involved his whole self but not in a good way; you have to get the mechanics and the discipline right too.  I also have to spend less time listening to lacklustre music.