Josh Pearson was curious about us, W. says. He’d seen him with his great beard looking round the corner of the chalet, to where we are sitting out on the grass. Possibly he’s heard we were playing his music on the stereo, dancing about, W. strutting up and down the corridor. He was intrigued, says, W.; he was coming round the corner with his big beard. But then you started with your chimp impressions and scared him off.
Josh Pearson would have come and sat with us, says W., and we could have talked about his solo project. But you scared him, he says, by walking on your knuckles like a chimp and making hooting noises like a chimp. Just imagine, Josh Pearson would be sitting here with us, drinking cider and telling us about his life in Berlin, and what did you do? Scare him off, with your chimp impressions.
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