Various Storms And Saints
Today I finally opened up my double vinyl set of Florence Welch's How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. I've been listening to the digital files since the day of release but I thought I'd give the LP a shot. This relatively long "album" is split across two discs. Disc 1-A is my favorite, as it contains the three best tracks in a row. Disc II-B is my second choice. Interestingly enough, the cover for Disc II has a photo of Ms. Welch floating topless in a lake. This was something I did not know I needed to see until I saw it. I know you'd like to see it as well.
As it turns out, there's an entire Tumblr devoted to shots of Florence's breasts, and you can see it here. It does not disappoint. She has a reasonably decent rack for a woman of her height (5'9") and general configuration (beanpole). But I'm not impartial here; she really does it for me. I'm one of those relatively rare men who will give a woman extra points for being hugely talented --- Robert Plant was another, note the way he mooned over the relatively plain Joni Mitchell when hard Los Angeles tens were literally kicking his hotel room door down every night --- and I think everything that Ms. Welch does is just flat wonderful. I'm also not afraid of tall women, although Florence's actual height is much debated and some people think she's five-seven while others swear she's five-eleven.
As with the topless-in-the-lake photo, I didn't know I needed Florence until she appeared. Her uncompressed dramatic and vocal range are just perfect for me. Florence, if you're reading this, contact me care of Road&Track. That is all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to return to today's critical-task: painting Porsche wheels with a rattlecan. We call that "living the dream", Florence.