Somehow the 3rd line in the 4th verse somehow captures (perfectly) a notion of a bygone English era and English-ness… obviously people all over the world feel this way and do and maybe what was captured was a feeling of helplessness as time fitters away as one gets older.
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say
Every verse from Prisencolinensinainciusol is genius. It’s a song by an Italian that was written to mimic the experience non-english speakers have listening to british and american artists. It’s just a series of sounds that approximate words, but mean absolutely nothing.
Sharing “the lyrics” doesnt really make sense, but here is the whole thing in all its glory
God is a concept
By which we measure our pain
I’ll say it again
God is a concept
By which we measure our pain
Yeah, pain, yeah
I don’t believe in magic
I don’t believe in I Ching
I don’t believe in the Bible
I don’t believe in tarot
I don’t believe in Hitler
I don’t believe in Jesus
I don’t believe in Kennedy
I don’t believe in Buddha
I don’t believe in mantra
I don’t believe in Gita
I don’t believe in yoga
I don’t believe in kings
I don’t believe in Elvis
I don’t believe in Zimmerman
I don’t believe in Beatles
I just believe in me
Yoko and me
And that’s reality
The dream is over
What can I say?
The dream is over
Yesterday
I was the dreamweaver
But now I’m reborn
I was the walrus
But now I’m John
And so, dear friends
You’ll just have to carry on
The dream is over
and worse (and slightly concerning) lyrics, again I will go for John Lennon to balance it out (who wrote this even though it is a Beatles track) …
Run For Your Life from Rubber Soul
“Well, I’d Rather see you dead, little girl, than to be with another man”
Y’know, Shane MacGowan hadn’t even visited New York City when he wrote this song. And, I believe, the NYPD never had a choir - and, if they did, they certainly didn’t sing Galway Bay.
Shane’s an hero of mine. I recommend Julien Temple’s recent documentary on the man (think it’s called Crock of Gold, should be on BBC). There’s a particular scene I love, where Shane, surrounded by empty bottles and packs of cigarettes, is asked about James Clarence Mangan; ‘I admire the way he lived his life, you know…he was an alcoholic, Republican junkie, and he died young…’, slurs Shane, ‘…but fortunately I always put my health first…’.
One of my current favourite verses of Shane’s, as a scruffy, alcoholic, Catholic Welshman who’s moving to NYC in the near future;
In Manhattan’s desert twilight In the death of afternoon We stepped hand in hand down Broadway Like the first men on the moon
And Blackbird broke the silence As you whistled it so sweet And in Brendan Behan’s footsteps I danced up and down the street
And we said goodnight to Broadway
*Giving it our best regards *
*Tipped our hats to Mr Cohan * Dear old Times Square’s favourite bard
Then we raised a glass to JFK
*And a dozen more besides * When I got back to my empty room I suppose I must’ve cried
I have always wondered about this song from the 70’s.
Is Mrs Avery angry on the phone and does not want her daughter to speak to him - or is she encouraging the guy on the other end of the line to take action and stop her daughter from leaving? She sure gives him a lot of info about her daughters movements.
It’s a strange song - hard to pigeon hole - but somehow I like it.
My crazy musical family (I’m the runt drummer) have a weekly jam night. Sylvia’s Mother is a real end of night treat. Then Elbow’s One Day obviously, Hey Jude.
Not sure I could ever say something is the best/worst, but Billy Joel’s Downeaster Alexa needs to be mentioned in here.
Like I just said in the politics thread, he is a great story-teller who just happens to be a musician…
Well I’m on the Downeaster Alexa And I’m cruisin’ through Block Island Sound I have charted a course to the vineyard But tonight I am Nantucket bound
We took on diesel back in Mantauk yesterday And left this morning from the bell in Gardiner’s Bay Like all the locals here I’ve had to sell my home Too proud to leave, I work my fingers to the bone
So I could own my Downeaster Alexa And I go where the ocean is deep There are giants out there in the canyons And a good captain can’t fall asleep
I got bills to pay and children who need clothes I know there’s fish out there but where, God only knows They say these waters aren’t what they used to be But I’ve got people back on land who count on me
So if you see my Downeaster Alexa And if you work with the rod and the reel Tell my wife I am trawling Atlantis And I still have my hands on the wheel
Now I drive my Downeaster Alexa More and more miles from shore every year Since they told me I can’t sell no stripers And there’s no luck in swordfishing here
I was a Bayman like my father was before Can’t make a living as a Bayman anymore There ain’t much future for a man who works the sea But there ain’t no island left for Islanders like me
For comedic value, You can’t go past Weird Al’s Canadian Idiot.
Don’t want to be a Canadian idiot
Don’t want to be some beer swillin’ hockey nut
And do I look like some frost bitten hosehead
I never learned my alphabet from A to zed
They all live on donuts and moose meat
And they leave the house without packin’ heat
Never even bring their guns to the mall
…
Always hear the same kind of story
Break your nose and they’ll just say sorry
Tell me what kind of freaks are that polite
There are plenty of good lines in this…
No matter how many times a song has been listened to, hearing it whilst reading the lyrics simultaneously, always adds another edge to it me thinks
Back in Craig David’s height there was a popular remix of Rendezvous that had the line
I can sauté but foreplay’s my forte,
Been known to score more ways than Luis Boa Morte.
Which was weird shit even back in the early 00s when it came out given he was famous for being a star prospect at Arsenal who never actually scored for them
