Ah Rogers, can't he give it a rest?

The lad confided in me that the year was to be spent writing his memoirs and composing a stage musical purely for the litany of schools he had attended, whilst obtaining a well deserved paunch. "Givin' up and Getting Fat" essentially.

I caught wind of the "Luxury Of Hysteria" project when frequenting a charming house of ill repute in the back streets of Fitzroy. The talk in the, err, waiting room was abuzz with the rumours of Rogers' return from his tropical retreat armed to his chipped teeth with a catalogue of new songs written whilst barred up in his bungalow attempting a fresh haircut.

Telexes and carrier pigeons were sent to his rabble of charming thugs The Temperance Union, and a potential new partner/foe in the form of Melanie Robinson, of Western Australian origins, administering a deft hand at further instrumental arrangements on Rogers' typically dog eared documentation.

The talk shifted, uncomfortably at first, yet with a rabid curiosity, as to the nature of said tunes. Would the boy's love of unpolished, barely cultured vignettes win out over a perceived new voracity for the outer fringes of musical culture and sense? Upon a cursory listen at a bunker deep in the hinterland, to quote a dear friend, "The boy's finally got it" .The Dickensian, roguish charm of past releases has given way to a more considered approach, barely concealing the recurring themes of misanthropy, open mouthed wonder, disease, deep admiration, loss and desperate joy.

I once heard the boy say that even when he's being dragged to Hades that it will be wearing interesting shoes (if not appropriate). Who was that chap who wrote of the gutter and the stars?

Barely had we finished the packing of our essentials ready to track the lad down when we heard of the rapid decision to release "The Luxury Of Hysteria" on his own Ruby Q Records (distributed by Inertia) and was to be released in September, followed by a national theatre tour with many of the musicians featured on the release, responding to what I've heard is an almost feverish desire of our Rogers to bring this uncut diamond of a recording to you, yes you...the people.

I worry for the boy. He fluctuates between a vibrant presence to a ghost in between the trees too quickly for my liking. But I'm completely charmed by this work of his. He's finally got it, and he's done it. Simply...charmed.

With love from us here in the Hinterland,
Humphrey Blessington.