Plan B
The defamation of Strickland Banks

Ben Drew and I courted each other for at least a year, hiding behind the stalls of a supermarket. He played hard to get, and I usually don't pay for a service. However, in the end, I gave in and took him home for 7 euros. In hindsight and having tasted the product, I can say that even if I had paid a little more, it would have still been worth it. Because, after all, Ben Drew is also a nice person, not a one-night stand kind of guy, and he seems to know me very well. I'd say for a long time.

He knows, for example, that I have varied and diverse musical tastes but not radical ones: that I like soul in the style of Marvin Gaye (surprise!) and the somewhat camp things by Dusty Springfield (My love goes down, Hard times), that I appreciate rap à la Beastie Boys in "Sabotage" (Stay too long) but that I prefer those who, besides rapping, also know how to sing, like Lauryin Hill in "The miseducation..."(She said). Or that he knows he hits the mark if he adds some "spectorian" string work in the orchestral arrangements (Darkest Place), that he, like me, thinks that "Circus" is the only great album by Lenny Kravitz (Stay too long) or that he even remembers that little Duophonic gem by Charles & Eddie from the early '90s (Writing's on the wall).

Of course, this alone is not enough to make an encounter Love with a capital L. But, hey, as a start, it's not bad, and I'd say I can give this Ben Drew another go. Let's say even more than one. Without overdoing it and with due precautions.