Tekst piosenki
„Sorry, Yeah, Guys This my friend I told you about?” Gio’s tone is loaded with things left unsaid. „Zinzi December. We used to work together.” Sleep Together. Take drugs together. It was a simple relationship, really
Piercing Girl scootches round to make space for us to sit on the plush velvet bank while Gio does the introductions- the Crème de la crème of musos in his immediate social circle, plus Paisley Shirt, better known as Henry. Dave is, as surmised, a news photographer for The Daily Truth, although he photographs gigs as well – mainly jazz, but he’s done oppikoppi for years in a row, plus the occasional feature for lifestyle magazines on the side. Henry does social media at a below-the-lines agency, and a big part of his mandate is the music scene. Gio invited him specially. “He’s the fag to Songwez’s hag.” he told me on the phone beforehand. “If anyone’s going to have the dirt on your girl, it’s Henry.”
Piercing Girl is a hardcore music journalist when she’s not being a mom to a two year-old she calls toddlesaurus. “Juliette writes for everyone,” Gio says. “All the local mags, as well as Billboard, Spin, Juke and Clash.”
Piercing Girl/Juliette rolls her eyes in a pleased fake modesty, which I take to mean its all true. “And what do you now, Zinzi?” she asks sympathetically, learning forward, giving me the benefit of her full attention. It’s only Three-quarters patronizing
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