| THERE
WAS I, embroiled in a day's leisurely
poaching in the Oxfordshire countryside
when who should I cross twelve-bores with
but Waitress man Chris Butler, attired in
tweed jacket and oversized plus fours and
generally posing as an English squire
whilst primarily engaged upon the serious
business of finishing the second
Waitresses LP at the famed Manor studio. Also thusly
employed are the mad eyed reed-blower
Mars Williams, the ever breakfasting
Billy Ficca and producer Hugh Padgham,
the other group members having already
metal-birded their way back Stateside.
We
retire to said cushy billet for a
pheasant sandwich, a tankard or two of
high class claret and a spot of banter.
A
philosophical starter why are you here?
Chris:
“Working here rather than in the
States is actually cheaper in terms of
pound against dollar and we tried every
studio in New York without finding the right
one."
To continue reading
this article and to discover many more (over 140,000 words-worth!),
purchase Mick
Sinclair’s Adjusting
the Stars: Music journalism from post-punk London.
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