In a lost corner of London, just outside the East End, lies a faded bow-fronted shop.

No-one ever visits, but if you were to push open the creaking door and step over the piles of unwanted mail, you would find, in the dust-laden darkness, row upon row of shelves stuffed with trumpets, tubas, cornets, trombones, clarinets, drums.

Each time one of the instruments is played, it tells a story; a different story every time. This is The Marching Band Emporium.

Intriguing, though-provoking and occasionally dazzling, The Marching Band Emporium is a personal selection from the former blog of the same name.

Published: February 2012

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