Dear David Gray,

Hi there!

Before I start, I would like to say that I was planning on writing this a whole lot earlier, but I got the flu. Yet again. This time I spent three days in bed wondering where the hell I was and making up great ideas like "Why don't I make a bed out of a jacuzzi" and "There are words on my wall (there are in fact none) and there must be some logic behind them" (Paging mr. Brown, paging mr. Dan Brown). So sorry.

The reason I'm writing you, is that a few weeks ago me, my buddy the Squirrel, and the Squirrel's Lovely Girlfriend, were fortunate enough to see you perform live in Tilburg. Up until the start of your concert we wondered, maybe too loudly, why the hell you insist on playing there and not go to somewhere civilized like Amsterdam or, if you must, Rotterdam. I have nothing against cities I don't live in - although they clearly lack a certain moi - but Tilburg.... I shall explain.

We arrived a little before 6 pm and started walking towards the city centre for some food and cash machines. Most cities would generally have that, but unfortunately Tilburg wants to be special so neither could be found. In fact, all stores were already closed and the streets were completely empty leaving us, and - being the most Amsterdam minded - me, walking around feeling like we had ended up in an episode of the Twilight Zone (but since none of us could hum that theme song we moved it to an X files episode).

We did manage to get some cash and even to get some food, although we might be stretching the definition a little, and even managed to be right on time at the concert hall. And then we waited another hour and a half for you to actually begin playing but I won't complain, you started on time.

And you blew us away. From the very first word of 'Alibi' to the very last word of 'Babylon'. Your band was amazing, the music was among the best I have ever heard live, and your voice was taking our collective breath away.

Unfortunately something else was also taking our collective breath away; smokers. I dont know why but for some reason a David Gray concert audience - or at least a part of it - looks a lot like a smokers anonymous meeting. Although I am not a very violent person by nature (everybody reading this blog will agree with me on that... OR I'LL BREAK ALL THEIR F*CKING BONES!!!... cheap jokes, can't beat em) I had the urge several times when you were pouring your heart out about this year's love or something and one of the morons lighting up another cigarett to take it and burn their eye, but something told me that might intervere with the concert experience.

After the concert, the Squirrel's Lovely Girlfriend announced she wanted to marry you and with that she pretty much mirrored how all of us felt (well... maybe not the Squirrel, but screw it he's already a really bad metrosexual). However, seeing that open letter marriage proposals generally don't seem to work (Orlando, email me), I would like to ask something else.

How expensive would it be to have you live in a corner of my appartment for a year? You can bring your own guitar, and I might be able to get a piano of some sorts. All you have to do is play some of your songs once a day. Hits or new songs or covers, I really don't care. You can sit in my comfy chair and I'm willing to let you have the bed a few nights a week. Hell, I'll even feed you (not well of course, I'm poor).

Interested? Gimme a call.

Love,
Boris

PS. if you want to you can use the bed-jacuzzi idea for a song.
PS.2. The Dan Brown thing is mine though