Welcome all to ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of ๐๐๐ฌ ๐ผ๐ง๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐ฅ๐ค๐ฉ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ playlists.
๐ผ๐ข๐๐ง๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐ฟ๐ง๐๐๐ข – ๐ผ๐ง๐ฃ๐ค๐ก๐๐คโ๐จ ๐๐๐ฏ๐๐ง๐๐จ (๐๐๐๐ฉ. ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐๐ค๐ฎ)
CC travels to the US. OMGโฆ
I wave goodbye for now, to my reliably unreliable land of Eng, to sail across the Atlantic with a view of hope. A horse is there to meet and greet me at the East Coast. Funny place to find a horse, but there you go. Her name is Old Faithfull. She insists on first name terms however. All right, then: Marianne, it is. We chat for quite a time about this and also that. I say โchatโ – she ainโt much of a talker. And so my external monologue begins. Poor mare. So here we are, in the Ewe Ess of Aye, with a long way to go. It got me pondering out loud to this trotter without a choice. America. What a land. What a place, with such a lot of history within such a relatively short time. Of course, I am already prepared with stiff leather Stetson and boots, complete with sharp, shiny shpurs – Marianne is all too aware of their close proximity, hence being particularly well behavedโฆ
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