Voices.

I know I posted this clip a few weeks ago, but I’ve become more than a little fixated on it. It’s surprisingly creative when you look at it in detail. And it isn’t the kids, the animals and the Lady B lookalike I want to remark on this time, it’s the singer’s voice.

No piping soprano here. No measured mezzo or sultry alto. This is sharpened steel striking flint. I can’t decide whether it’s Gallic or Spanish with a Moorish provenance. Not that it matters. It’s splendid wherever it comes from.

And Mel said to me tonight that the great thing about the company of dogs is that they never want to give you their opinion on anything.