I was out with a friend last week and she took me to a little cafe which doubled as a record shop.
I don’t own a record player but it was good to have a browse.
Anyway, my friend treated herself to an album of Ethiopian jazz fusion.
Which is possibly the most pretentious sentence I’ve ever written.
Anyway, if you’ve seen Broken Flowers you might recognise this lovely piece of music by Mulatu Astatke, which just happened to be on my friend’s album.
To be listened to while staring disaffectedly out your window and pondering life’s mysteries.