Trailing through the television channels last night on the unusual occasion of being in the house before 9pm last night, I found Garbage playing. (That’s Garbage the indie band) They’re not a favourite, but I do occasionally like something a little heavier in music, so I paused to listen to a couple of songs. Shirley Manson was giving her all in knee length stripy socks, boxer boots, and a minimalist dress.

Now I was in an even more unknown band around the time Shirley Manson was in “Good-bye Mr Mackenzie”, that teased the edges of the music scene when I was younger than I am. By that I mean we tended to practice a lot in a church hall, played church gigs, and had our one big outing at something that happened in Perth. We were just teenagers having fun.

But that experience makes Shirley Manson seems very human to me. She grew up in the same city as me, not too far way, and because she’s a little bit older in my days of being a backing singer she was someone I admired.

So my musing for today is that she’s older than me, and people just slightly older than my son think she’s cool. My singing days I don’t think are quite over, so perhaps I should go and find some stripey socks and boxer boots and do a bit of leaping around to some indie music.

It’s just a thought…