Set lists. It really makes our heads feel like the outside, and the outside like the inside. Like your brain has fallen out, filled the universe, and doesn't like it. Now he's trying to get back in, and it hurts because he has become fat on a diet of stars. And set lists.

We have a moderate collection of complete tunes we could place in the box marked 'confident'. Our tunes tend to last a wee bit longer than the bus ride from my mum's house to Wokingham town centre, just outside the post office. For a 45 minute set, that gives us about 7 songs. The bit that makes our brains escape is chosing which songs to play. Will the audience be into this? Will they want to hear that? Will they be drinking to heavily to care? Will we? Does my drum look big in this?

If you had 7 children and you only had space in the car for 4, then you need to buy a bigger vehicle, possibly one of those mini-bus things. The songs we leave behind have thier faces pressed up against the glass of the window.

What makes our brains expand like the death of a sun is figuring out what order to play the songs we have chosen. Open with the favourite, and the highlight for some is over in the first few minutes of the performance. Open with a difficult number, and play it poorly. Open with a strange song and lose the audeince in the vacuum of alienation. Open with a simple song, and give out the wrong message. Hello, my name is Garmond Sighfunkle, when actually it is something else.

My God it is annoying. Perhaps we should pull songs out of a hat, or perhaps something more complicated like the way they pick the groups for the World Cup. What's up with that?