ANY CROWDED CEILING

any crowded ceiling

"rubber sole - 11th. anniversary edition"

Daniel Prendiville, the driving force behind ANY CROWDED CEILING, takes up the story... Dan?! Dan?! Wake up, for Heaven's sake! The nice people want to hear your story!!!

"Mnnnf. Hnnmmng. Phuuuuh...eh? Eh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, man. Just had a little nod-off there. Metabolism's slowing down. I'm not the man I used to be, you know..."

Yes, we know that, but the nice people are starting to lose patience here. They want to hear the story behind this CD. Some of them are even thinking of buying a copy...

"...hey, steady on now. Don't lose the run of yourself...and what CD are you talking about?"

Rubber Sole...

"...I never recorded a CD of Rubber Sole. That was released on cassette. In 1989..."

But it's a CD now.

"Well, I didn't record it..."

That's right. We re-mastered the cassette while you were having a nap and have now released it as a CD.

"And who are you again?"

The good people at Reincheque Recordings.

"Hmmn, I vaguely recognise you. Didn't I go out with your mother once? Late 70's, perhaps?"

I should hope not! No, you remember you brought out a CD last year on our label...

"I did?!"

Course you did. Remember? "Tantrum Ego"?

"....mmmmmm...Ah, yes! I remember you now! Christ, you've put on a bit of weight haven't you? And you were the little bollix who said I'd make a small fortune recording for your label! I don't recall making a small fortune..."

Well, you were in that coma for a while.

"I don't remember being in a coma!"

There you are, then...

"So where's all me money?"

We've invested it for you, you'll be glad to hear.

"So what did you invest it in, then? Shares in Global Waistline plc, by the look of things..."

Now, there's no need to make cheap remarks about my physical appearance. It's...glandular! You don't hear me calling you a rat-faced, lard-arsed, half-wit, even though I'd have the right to!

"...sorry, this damn hearing-aid...these batteries don't last pissing-time...you were saying?"

Fancy a cuppa?

"No, thanks. I'll be running up and down to the jacks all night if I have another cup. And who's that other guy in the corner with you? He looks a bit...pervy, don't you think?"

Actually, he's more pervy than he looks, but he's very good at book-keeping...

"Ah, nuff said. All, book-keepers are perverts. Ask your father.."

Yes, I agr...eh?

"Just pulling your leg. Seems like a nice boy, actually."

Who? My father?

"No, you shit-thick dipstick! Mr. Pervy Beancounter over there...no, don't start me on your father...actually, your mother used to say that quite a bit, as I recall.."

You never met my father, or my mother!

"Take it easy, Poindexter. Just joking"

If you don't stop messing and get on with the job, I'll eat that last Fig Roll!

"Go ahead, be my guest! You've eaten the rest of them already, you tubby so-and-so!"

"So-and-so", eh? That's it! I'm leaving! I'm not putting up with you anymore. C'mon, Duane, let's get out of here!

"Does that mean I can have that Fig Roll, then?"

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