As a young man I found myself being wined and dined by the fat cats at mercury records.
After being regaled with salacious tales of clandestine industry homosexuality, we began to discuss the terms of the record contract that was being prospectively offered.
Being an over zealous 17 year old, drunk on hope and expensive wine, I informed the label boss, in no uncertain terms that as part of my contract I would like a house made entirely of gold.
The events that followed remain hazy. There was some talk of ‘bastards’ and ‘wasting my time’.
Needless to say, there was no longer a record contract being offered. And I certainly never received a gold house.
1 comment:
I love this article! Totally wish you'd been able to get a gold house as i'd certainly want an invitation!
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