Mr Duffy's Search for Mellow Fruitfulness

I would like to share with you, dear Reader, a delightful communiqué from Mr Duffy, on the subject of our forthcoming musical release:

Autumn sits on our pallid slack jawed faces like a wet flatulant dulux dog and we ask "Where is my Mellow Fruitfulness?" Salvation lies in the form of burying ones id in the sea of creative endeavour we have embarked upon. Burnished by the light of laptops we pare, scribe engrave and scrawl our wishes on the unbending unflinching plane of digitised sound which taunts us as ever. The recording light at the end of the tunnel is another take and the tunnel walls are our prison and fortress. If we get there will it be the city of wonder we dreamed of? Or a shortcut to disgrace and failure? Words like half seen moths flutter towards the gaslight and are burned by the glare of closer examination. Fresh laid tracks of musical indulgence await the wheels of song to become a railway but the leaves are all wrong and the conductors fear the passengers.

But this is a passing phase, a seasonal variation through which the truly dedicated must hibernate, asleep to all but the glory of the coming wintertime. The Snows will freeze our fears to nought! Something is coming and it is e.p. and it will glitter like the lights of a thousand Yuletide junketings. Be Warned. We are poised.