Only Fools Objectify The Subject

No one makes me feel more at ease than old school cockneys in Deptford’s studios. Maybe it’s because they’re all men that they go the extra mile to let me know I’m in charge, but to be honest it just seems to come naturally. I laugh my way through what turns out to be an uncomfortable pose, while they rib each other about the music.
None have trained except on the job – like drawing emblems or story boarding, apart from Dave who attended art school in the 50s, when life was still in vogue.
With them I drop my tones a few notches, sounding more south east works here. I admit that when I started, there were prejudices I harboured – about style; but my God these evaporate. I don’t care what their pictures look like (and some of it’s very good), I just enjoy their company. I guess film theme tunes and they mock my ignorance, though I do have one ear to the couch.
Krall croons seductively and Darren is transported; the rest of us stand by.

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