I think it’s Muddy Waters singing, reminding me how essential this sound is to me. I think you’d call it the Chicago Sound. The blues when it’s found a band but not long arrived from the South. And along with the blues a warm feeling of contentment is descending on me, in my stomach and in my heart, from hearing Muddy Waters singing in the background at this coffee shop on Castle Street in Liverpool.
I’d been reading the book I’ve got with me until the music made me stop, think and look out across the black and white tiled floor through the open door at the Christmas shoppers in occasional party-hats walking by. This is not where I’d usually choose to come on the Saturday before Christmas.
No, but I’ve walked into town from Bogan’s Warehouse on Great Howard Street where Sarah and I were looking at floor things for our new flat. She had somewhere else to drive off to when we’d finished, so I’ve walked into town from there. To find Muddy Waters singing to me while I read, followed now by Dr.John, ‘Such a night’ on such a day.
And no apologies, by the way, for the non-appearance of the perhaps expected photograph of the black and white tiles and the view of Christmas through the open doorway. I’m out today without any kind on camera. Walking for its own sake, reading for pleasure. My Anita Brookner novel, ‘A Missalliance,’ having been pleasurably interrupted by Muddy Waters.
Anita Brookner and Muddy Waters? Well yes when you think about them? Similarly dignified.
More writing about reading here at “A Book in Your Bag”