If anybody wants to experience a truly electrifying dose of blistering erotica, you could do worse than check out this month's edition of Q magazine, which features possibly the dullest interview with a grumpy old bastard since Bernard Ingham said "hnh" to John Sargeant, with none other than king of toryprog Mike Oldfield, but is illustrated with the kind of pictures that would make the Marquis de Sade blush. Unfortunately I can't find any of the pictures on TV's "the internet" to share with you, so let's make do with a previous bit of astonishing vainglory, being the cover of his utterly abysmal new-age album Voyager:
Anyway, let's not get too carried away with slagging off the Oldfield, after all this is the man who had the audacity to rip off the Turin Shroud for his "difficult third album" Ommadawn, and made a whole album about sitting on a hill and thinking about whether to bother flying a kite. Instrumental work, naturally. Hey and away we go, through the grass, 'cross the snow....
Anyway, let's not get too carried away with slagging off the Oldfield, after all this is the man who had the audacity to rip off the Turin Shroud for his "difficult third album" Ommadawn, and made a whole album about sitting on a hill and thinking about whether to bother flying a kite. Instrumental work, naturally. Hey and away we go, through the grass, 'cross the snow....
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