Mrs Irk walked in on me listening to the new Scott Walker compilation the other evening. She asked whether I was listening to Michael Ball. I laughed and called her a pleb. She took umbrage, insisting that I listen to Michael Ball singing Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Miserables. And I have to admit, when you compare the emoting and contained histrionics of the latter to, say, Montague Terrace in Blue, the similarities are definitely there.
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