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Goldfrapp
Felt Mountain
We're elegantly decked out in our best smoking jacket, reclined in our big red leather wing backed chair. Stogie in one hand, cognac warming by the fire in the other. Goldfrapp surrounds us, engulfs us. Eyes closed and head tilted back slightly, our brow curls with the tension when the orchestra hit crescendo but then smoothes out evenly when that calming whistle comes back. We're whisked away to the island of Dr. No - where's 007? I know he's here, somewhere. We take a sip of our cognac and pet the lap cat. It's late, of course. The streets are dark and silent. This is a time for drinking alone. We close our eyes and drift back off .... slowly....... We're nudged our of our slumber by the sounds of French carousel. Mystery and is replaced by wonder ... for a while. Until eyes get groggy and the violin lulls us to sleep. Lovely. -savo
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