I managed to work some solid theatregoing into my holiday weekend, so watch this space for my reviews of Coram Boy and Inherit the Wind.
For today, just a note of admiration for the title of Paul McCartney's new album, Memory Almost Full. It's clever and fun, endearingly self-mocking; it acknowledges his age by making a very of-the-moment reference, which is a neat trick indeed. And it demonstrates a level of self-awareness that has been noticeably absent from his public and private conduct these last few years. (Speaking of which, I can't decide whether the black-and-white Robert Freeman-esque photos of the artificially dark-haired Macca are canny, or just sad.) It makes me think, Perhaps he hasn't completely lost his mind after all! And it makes me want to buy the album... almost. But I can't quite shake the suspicion that the title is probably the best thing about it. (Especially having visited the site. Yikes. Now, where did I put my copy of Red Rose Speedway?)