Spar Wars

A couple of weeks ago, for the first time ever, I contributed my vocal chords to what will be a real record, which will be released and everything. Luckily for the listeners of said record, I was part of a gang vocal, and not the lead or anything frighteningly real like that.

The studio was set in deepest, darkest Deptford, and fortunately the off license next door provided adequate sustenance for destroying one's voice before shouting on a rooftop. Upon reaching the till, the always well-placed sweetie rack beneath bore something resembling the humble Blackjack, but this little neighbour of Fruit Salads was a Star Wars related treat:



I nearly fell over at the revelation of it all, which I suppose would've been appropriate given we recording the last ever Down I Go single, but fortunately I was firm-footed enough to grab a photo, and was even treated to one of the bars by my pal Tom. But that may have only been because he needed to spend over a fiver to be permitted to pay on a card. What a hero.