Wordsmiths

I love lyrics. All those things people sing out that I wish I could say, those clever lines, enticing, romantic, all of that. And how cool would it be to have an orchestra following you around playing the music too, adding to the atmosphere, genius? Imagine what a place the world would be. Damn, I just have. It would be full of Chris Rea, Freddie Mercury, never mind Elton Trousers and those beautiful boy bands. Full of cliches, manufactured pop. It would be horrendous if we could all do that. It'll have to be just me, and a few others I allow this incredible capacity.

That's put me right off the topic! I was going to go searching some of my favourite lines and spread them liberally around for you amusement, but the moment's passed. It'll save for another day.

It's been a Barry White afternoon. Stumbled across a 9-minute mix of 'Let The Music Play', top. It has such a wonderful intro, Barry chuntering on about going into town, to see what's going on, 'she's at home', he calls back to someone, 'yeah, she's at home'. What a superb line. Barry was my mum's favourite, along with Gilbert O'Sullivan, what a duo they could have been!

This morning I listened to the Soul Family Sensation's one and only album 'New Wave', a gem of indie-house. It has a gorgeous track I Don't Even Know If I Should Call You Baby plus the lyrical treat that is the Sheffield Song:

it was summer, i was younger, 

when i saw her by the boats on the sand,

i should have told her that i loved her

i don't want baby to go home

i don't want baby to cry

i don't want to say goodbye

but she's gone, back to Sheffield... it was Wednesday.