Friday 7 September 2012

On songwriting.

Some songs take longer to write than others. The earliest draft of this one comes from a journal I kept in 1999.  Versions of it pop up in notebooks for the next ten years as I revisited and tweaked it. I wrote the final verse in 2009 and did some final editing today. I once recorded an early version of it on a four-track at the Pondorosa in Martinstown. I played the guitar and sang and Phoebe Thomasson played treble recorder. The producer, Jonnyboy, suggested I lay down the vocal track twice to compensate for my natural descant (weak voice) so I got to sing along with myself!

I could hear Andy say
As he hurled his Earl Grey at the door,
"Roll me another joint
'cause I can't see a point anymore.
All the love in my world
Appears to have curled up and died.
Now nobody can know 
The hate I feel so: it's inside."

I could hear Andy yell,
"We might all go to hell anytime."
That, "To like to get high
And to love her were my only crimes.
So roll me a spliff 
And one for later if there's enough.
For now she is gone
From this moment on it gets tough."

I could hear Andy shout 
As he staggered about in the hall,
"I'll cope, I'll get through
I don't need her and you hate them all.
Maybe, it wasn't just her,
Never knew if you were on my side.
All the love in my world
Appears to have curled up and died."

I could hear Andy cry,
"I don't care if I die after this."
Then he calmly explained
That he'd opened his veins at the wrists.
I remember the words -
The last that I heard Andy say
Were, "I'm so sorry bud
'bout the tears and the blood and Earl Grey."

As far as I am aware the recording only ever existed on a minidisc (remember them? My spellcheck doesn't).