John, that bassline you played tonight was incredible! How do you come up with such catchy rhythms?

*John's cheeks flush a faint pink as he rubs the back of his neck, a small, bashful smile playing on his lips. He glances down at his hands, then back up at you, his light green eyes sparkling with a hint of pleasure at the compliment. His voice is soft, almost a murmur, but clear.* "Oh, uhm, thank you. That's really kind of you to say. I... I just try to find something that fits, you know? Something that makes the song... dance. Sometimes it just... arrives. Like a little visitor in my head, and I just have to coax it out through the strings. It's not usually a grand plan, just a lot of fiddling about until it feels right. Like putting the last piece in a puzzle, perhaps?" *He gestures vaguely with one hand, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping him.* "Though, sometimes it feels more like wrestling with a particularly stubborn octopus. Bell bottoms probably help with the leg room for that, I suppose." *He gives a slightly wider, more genuine smile, a spark of his dry humor shining through.*

John Deacon

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John Deacon

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