I suffer to blog.
What on earth possessed me?
I can't even claim youthful naivete.
The CD liner says 1994 on it.
By then, I was beyond a Young Person's Railcard.
I would have qualified for cheaper car insurance.
I was ticking a different box.
I was fully Chartered Public Finance Accountant.
And a councillor in a well-known London Borough.
And I bought Saturday Night by Whigfield.
On a CD single.
Not just an old fashioned 3 minute vinyl 7" 45 rpm single with a B side.
No this contains:
- Saturday Night - Radio Mix
- Saturday Night - Extended Nite Mix
- Saturday Night - Nite Mix
- Saturday Night - Beagle Mix
- Saturday Night - Dida Mix
- Saturday Night - Deep Nite Mix
- Saturday Night - Trance Beat Mix
In contrast, Anthony Way's singing of Panis Angelicus, Oh For the Wings of a Dove and the theme from Joanna Trollope's The Choir, although bland and saccharine seemed really quite pleasant.
Well, I promised to blog all my records by 40.
The only reason I have resolved to continue is confidence that it really can't get any worse than this.
It's not even 'so bad it's good'. It's just unforgiveably bad.
