Finding my Mojo

…in a music magazine.

With all the [distracting/detracting] things having gone on over the years, it’s been hard to sit down and actually read something … anything. So, given my love of music is resurging, I went for a magazine. Mojo. A long-established UK music mag that focuses mainly on artists who’ve been around the block—many a few times, some quite successfully so.

It’s quite a good read, not tabloid-like with “tidbits” about well, sex, drugs and rock-n-roll, but informative and rather well written (though the editor in me sees the odd thing my “red pen” might like to “fix”—bad habit I apply to everything that falls on my plate, LOL).

This edition had Bowie on the cover (apparently, he’s a fave) and had a 15-song disc featuring “dystopian sci-fi rock” tracks. Ooof. Liked a couple of the tunes but that CD was what I’m tempted to label creepily unsettling.

Halfway through the chocka-block full mag. Savoring the read. Digesting the info. An enlightening way to spend a brrrrrisk northern wintery weekend.