Very stripped back track this week after the whistles and bells of Life is like Life. Trying to throw them off the scent.
Couldn’t have anything vaguely coherent or they might be onto me…
Cigar box guitar times 1, a shaker and a smudge of hammond holding down the bottom end. That’s about all. A nice looping, lolloping groove that settles into a canter and doesn’t feel the need to get in the way of the lyric. And the lyric, the lyric. It’s an homage and came out of the blue this week while I was on public transport. Listening and reading, trying to keep the outside noise down to a dull roar.
He says you write the best songs when you’re on the move. He’s said a lot of things.
He didn’t want no buckles on the soles of his shoes
He looked back in history to catch up on the news.
Digging through the pages to find his nine muses,
A mountain to climb, soul filled with uses…
A purpose to find.
Don’t speak to me if you’ve got the tongue to flatter
You know nothing matters unless you make it matter
Here we all are eternally now
Finding out why when we don’t know how…
He didn’t want the trouble, he just wrote the songs,
But the words dripped like honey and we all sang along
Pulled him apart, ask too many questions
The time was so right, but the answers were restless
Feeling for change..
Fifty years gone, a lifetime of change,
A man rolls in triplets before he gets brave
He turns back to talk through catalogues gone
Some of us get it, the others just roll on
And yell for Hurricane