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Robb Johnson, A Break in the Clouds

Man Walks Into a Pub


I don’t think I’ve ever written, let alone recorded, an instrumental before. It happened like this. At the school where I work, I play the guitar with the children and we sing songs in our own voices, none of this “sit up straight and sing nicely, children” nonsense that puts people off ever opening their mouths again. One day, Paris, a girl in the class that had to put up with me for a teecher, turned up with a bracelet (of black beads - cool!) that she’d made with her mum at home for me. Even cooler than the colour, it had a tiny guitar attached to the end. I thought, hmm, people - well, some four- and five-year-old people anyway - think of me as A Guitarist. So when, encouraged by this thought, I came up with an instrumental, I named it after Paris’s bracelet.


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