Dear Frank Turner

Re: The Road

As much as my wife Jean and I admire your ''troubadour anthem'', Mr. Turner,
it is with regret that I must inform you that it includes some ''Tell Tale Signs'' that your expedition could conclude with disastrous results.

Firstly, to reveal that one keeps a small bag full of clothes carefully stored, somewhere secret, somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door, could be interpreted as a catalyst for ''The Real Damage'' on several levels. Disclosure of the diminutive garment holdall's very existence to your live ''following'' and the whole world at large via Eyetunes ''downloads'', let alone a near thorough revelation of its co-ordinates, now renders the relief of all vestment carrier clandestinity highly probable. Indeed, with the benefit of hindsight it is arguable that any future habiliment haversack or some such declassification could be avoided if you were to ''Hold Your Tongue'', a laudable characteristic which you ''Must Try Harder'', Mr. Turner, to acuminate.

It ought be appended that, far from being devoid of peril, the situation of such a concealed compact attire impediment so proximate to an entranceway is not careful at at all. It is, surely, for anyone who tries to place ''One Foot Before The Other'' without looking where they are going, and, if you will pardon the journey-related pun, a ''trip hazard''.

Finally, it is to be conceded, by the very fact of the illusive plateaux fully encircling one's location at all times, that said land/sky convergence is, as you correctly imply, omnipresent. That said, Mr. Turner, and contrary to your throaty assertions, I am afraid that your claims to both face the horizon everywhere you go, and live on it, must be contested for the following reasons:

a) Your earth/atmosphere dovetailing lineality not being open to question ought be countered by its regularly being obscured by limits in human vision, indoor 'gig' venue and similar walls, fences, other buildings, and computer or mobile telephone fascia when texting or 'tweeting' to your 'fan base'.

b) by the very nature that an unattainable vista must be situated at a considerable distance from the observer to be viewed, it therefore stands to reason that under no circumstances could it ever be reached, let alone inhabited, or, for that matter, fitted with a door (see paragraphs 2 and 3 above).

I sincerely hope that you do not mind my bringing this critique to your your attention, Mr. Turner, but being somewhat experienced in these matters feel duty-bound to ''Pass It Along''. It is, to use ''Four Simple Words'', for better or worse, and "The Way I Tend To Be"

I remain,

Yours sincerely,

Derek Philpott


Reply from Frank Turner received 4/2/2015


Dear Derek

Thanks very much for your thoughtful letter. You raise some substantive points about my song, "The Road", and I'd like to address them individually, and in full.

Firstly, you note that I've slightly given away the location of my secret bag of clothes. However, I have more cunning than you give me credit for; I am, in fact,



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