Transformers was a key feature of my childhood. As such I waited impatiently for the live-action movie.
It’s a while since I’ve watched a film with such a stupid grin stuck to my face the whole way through.
A short series of shorter posts for Tuesdays in July, on songs I love with lyrics that never fail to make me smile.
The song is from the Crows’ second album, Recovering The Satellites, but I prefer the recording on the live album, Across A Wire. This is another of my very favourite songs, from a band that I went through a phase of being heavily into. I still enjoy their music — it’s nice, undemanding rock that even so has some depth in the writing.
The smell of hospitals in winter
And the feeling that its all a lot of oysters, but no pearls.
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl.
And you’ve just got to love the piano. No frills, just goodness.
The last couple of weeks, since I have now secured employment (T minus 2 days), have been by way of a holiday. There are pictures, many pictures, and books read, many books.
The first hint - it may not look like it, but this was Northern Ireland. Again, please forgive the ‘phone-cam output.
A short series of shorter posts for Tuesdays in July, on songs I love with lyrics that never fail to make me smile.
Bruce Cockburn makes his second appearance in this series with a nice simple rock tune. He builds his atmosphere in the music and in the lyric, again showing off a fab flair for unexpected imagery. Like this:
I slipped out of my dreams like a baby out of a nurse’s hands onto the hard floor of the day.
Seriously. Can you get any better than that?
So of course I grabbed the new, and last, Harry Potter book, Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows. I called past a bookshop at half-past midnight Friday night (in my defence, it was because I was on my way home from a wedding), and it was queued out the street and away. However, the local supermarket wasn’t. The march of the giants does have the occasional benefit.
I finished the book last night, and will (when I get the chance) construct a full and considered post on the topic. In the meantime, being busy, here’s a few of my initial simple thoughts.
As I say, much more to come when I get the time.
A short series of shorter posts for Tuesdays in July, on songs I love with lyrics that never fail to make me smile.
I wasn’t, actually. I wasn’t born until 1980. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love the song for its humour and nostalgia. And the accent :D
I’ve been listening to Brian Houston since a couple of Cool FM (local Belfast radio) DJs were giving Jesus Again stacks of airplay. If I had to guess when that was, I might have been 12, I might have been 14. I really can’t remember. I don’t have all the albums, but certainly most of them, and in the last decade (since he played a short residency at Auntie Annie’s that was an excellent relief from A-levels) he’s been pretty prolific. It’s also been the last decade in which he’s gone a little country. Let’s call it ‘East Belfast country’.
I haven’t picked any specific lyrics out of this track off thirteen days in August, because they’re great as a whole.
Tell you what, if you do the iTunes thing then go and get the song from there. It’s more than worth the 79p. Come on, would I do you wrong?
A short series of shorter posts for Tuesdays in July, on songs I love with lyrics that never fail to make me smile.
Ah. “Pacing The Cage”. This ranks as one of my favourite songs ever. Bruce Cockburn is an excellent songwriter and lyricist, and an excellent guitarist (really amazing live, too). On this track he combines the two.
The picked guitar line is simple and straightforward (which isn’t to say I can play it worth anything, but there you go) and really quite beautiful. The lyric is poignant and powerful, one evocative image after the other, my favourite being:
I’ve proven who I am so many times,
the magnetic strip’s worn thin.
I can enthusiastically recommend the album as a whole, but this song in particular is one of the ones that I can go to bed at night, turn out the light, grab the phones and listen to it over and over again.
The sky looked ominous this afternoon, so we did what anyone sensible would do: we loaded the dog into the back of the car and headed out to see what we could see.
By the time we reached Newcastle, the omen had been shown good. It’s this kind of downpour that shows one of the essential points of tension between my wife and me, which is to say her deep optimism as contrasted with my usual pessimism. At her suggestion, we kept driving in the hope of coming out the other side of the weather.
By the time we reached the Silent Valley, the rain had stopped. At least, it stopped until we’d paid our £4.50 (eep) and the barrier had come down behind the car - but this perfectly poetic moment was too much for the heavens to resist. Right on cue, downpour once again.
That said, the Silent Valley is a beautiful place with the reservoir hidden in a bowl of Mournes.
I’ve only been there once before, when my parents took my brother and me up on what I remember as a blazingly hot summer afternoon several years ago. Contrast indeed. I remembered it as rather great, although under-appreciated by the younger me, and it did appeal to me today. My wife may disagree and tell of the moaning I did about the weather, but it was great. Intriguingly, reservoirs and dams tend to take me that way. I’ll have to return sometime with a camera other than the one in my cellphone.
The weather did pick up, with the sun raising steam from the tarmac. But not before we were wet and the dog was wetter. She’s sitting here by my feet drying off quietly.
I apologise now for the very specific geekery of this post. You all know what I’m like.
I have trouble with diaries. I’ve tried going digital with PDAs and things a few times, but keep coming back to paper for all sorts of reasons.
My problem is that I’m really picky about it. The layout, the quality of the thing - I tend to make them fall apart. In order to find one that suits, I’ve bought three this year, and none of them is perfect.
So, having stumbled across a website called DIYplanner.com (seriously, is there anything anyone can think of that isn’t on the interweb somewhere already?), I’ve decided that if I’m going to be so awkward about it, I may as well put together my own.
And having time on my hands on account of being in the throes of a job-hunt, I went ahead…
(more…)
A short series of shorter posts for Tuesdays in July, on songs I love with lyrics that never fail to make me smile.
“White Collar Boy” is the third track from Belle & Sebastian’s album, The Life Pursuit. The whole album is rather more accessible than some of their earlier music, and this track is pretty close to being the perfectly formed pop song.
The sound puts me in mind of somewhere between the Small Faces and the Kinks, distinctly British, cheerful but with depth. It also contains one of my favourite lyrics of recent years:
You were chained to a girl that would kill you with a look.
It’s a nice way to die, she’s so easy on the eye.
Gets me every time :D
Belle & Sebastian have always had the reputation of an intelligent, witty band. This keeps it going for me.