ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

Evening. I think next door are having a party. There's a muffled thud that sounds like someone playing a kick drum in a blanket, plus the sound of distant chatter reverberating through the walls. I don't mind; most of the time this street is pretty silent and there's something vaguely relaxing about the sound of other people's fun. Though if it's still this loud in an hour's time, I might get up and play some jazz piano or the chords to All You Need is Love on a loop.

All You Need is Love. What were The Beatles thinking? This is my latest arrangement for choir, and to keep it simple I've recorded the parts straight into my phone. 

I keep saying to myself, 'Not true is it? Load of old nonsense,' because clearly you need a lot more than just love. Apparently though, John Lennon was intent on creating art out of slogans and this free-forming idea slipped straight out of the atmosphere of 1967 and onto the disc. Perhaps sacrilegiously, I've pushed it into 4/4 instead of the complicated timing of the original. I don't think anyone will notice.

I need friendship, decent food and a good night's sleep. I also need a better sense of humour, the ability to think several steps ahead, and a nice wooden coat stand. I need to exercise more, to get my oven cleaned (so that I can use it again) and I need to stop writing emails late at night. I need patience, kindness and wisdom, and I need to stop telling people I'm depressed whenever they ask me how I am. I do need love, yes, my Liverpudlian friends, but it is certainly not the complete mathematical set of all my requirements.

Meanwhile, in a surprising conversation, a friend of mine told me he'd like to go hunting in North America someday. I recoiled in horror. I couldn't imagine lying in the undergrowth like a sniper, ready to murder a defenceless animal. I couldn't pull the trigger, I just know it. There are some things I don't need and a hunting trophy is absolutely one of them - even if it's a trendy thing for the pastors of a certain Californian church to do.

They're still going next door. Mcha mcha mcha mcha tsk tsk tsk tsk... It sounds like the whole house has a heartbeat. I can hear somebody rapping. It's not Cosi Fan Tutti, that's for sure. I wait the day when I'm kept awake by Mozart instead of Eminem. I guess I'd even prefer the whining of the Beatles singing their sunshine-laden slogans into the future. Or maybe all I need is a decent set of earplugs.