I met Nick Lowe by chance in an arena at a concert. He was leaving but I couldn’t help telling him he was who he was and he agreed. I don’t know what else I said but he wrote down his address if I wanted to mail him some music. I might have, I can’t remember. It was 1992 probably and I was backing up Jane Siberry at the castle in Edinburgh, opening for Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells Two. Talk about Oy Vey. But I thought about him yesterday which is my only explanation for waking up with Cruel To Be Kind on loop in my brain which is better than the recent run of BeeGees songs following a brief interest in checking out Robin’s voice only to re-realize it isn’t a place I wish to dwell. Those inner loops, whether tunes or voices of worry probably come from a similar place. How did we develop to sustain ourselves? How did we manage to get through tropical heat or freezing ice plus dinosaurs. The brain needed to worry, to look over it’s shoulder for safety and now that we’re busy with credit cards, corona and covid the brain was never given a shut off valve. That need to unceasingly worry about something or be stuck with a dumb tune over and over, part of our beautiful history.