This is how I feel when the band in the rehearsal room opposite us plays foo fighters covers for an hour solidly screaming the lyrics like he is fighting for his life whilst running full pelt up a mountain. Inching the volume up in our own room hasn't helped matters and now we are in a furious sound off that the other band probably aren't even aware is happening. A battle against a wall. The thick fog outside adds a layer to the building that makes us feel even more trapped in the noise war. Eventually admitting defeat Stan takes longer than needed to mix a track, I write this and Phil seems to be just dicking round on his phone in the corner. Tuesday night you have defeated me. Oh god noooo please don't start singing David Bowie in a voice that's being beaten by belts whilst dragging a cart through a muddy field. I think it's time for me to copy Bertie, find a corner and fall asleep.

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