Showing posts with label Signs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Signs. Show all posts

Friday, 8 December 2017

You tell me your secrets, I tell you my lies


Chiggins1 emailed me yesterday. He sends me an annual year end round-up Best Of compilation CD2 every Christmas; has done since Radio 1 could still be found on the medium wave. 'I see you've moved back to the fair city - give me your address and I'll chuck it in the mailbag. P.S. I hope 2017 has been a vintage year for you(?)'

As I was replying I remembered writing a wistful post3 almost exactly a year ago. (Interestingly, since writing that particular piece, it is still being viewed over fifty times a day.)  
December 2016 was a very interesting month, for all sorts of reasons; even then I had a feeling that the early part of 2017 could shape not only the rest of the year, but also a life far beyond. Maybe I was viewing the future through some sort of prophetic kaleidoscope, but I knew this year would be, maybe not vintage, but pivotal. Even a blind man on a galloping horse can see that the tone of Even Monkeys Fall Out Of Trees is more upbeat since I made the move back down to Nottingham earlier in the year.

Here's a song I first played with James when he was living in Leeds. I have posted it up here before, but as I've started dropping it in my set again, I thought I'd share it one more time.4.


1.  Chris Higgins. His passport says he was born in Ashby-de-la Zouch. And he once auditioned for a part in Byker Grove. He may only admit to one of those statements.
2. He knows I'll never ditch my CD player.
3. Did I say wistful? It was certainly one of the shortest pieces I'd ever written. Around that time I was like a man on a desert island waving frantically at the sky. And out to sea. I was writing RESCUE ME! in large letters in the wet sand. Every day.
4. You're the One: it's from two Decembers ago - Dec. 2015.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

Show me a sign

Jimmy Webb gave Glen Campbell three geographically themed monster hits in the sixties that, to this day, remain Campbell's legacy: Galveston, By the Time I Get to Phoenix and Wichita Lineman. Campbell, the original Rhinestone Cowboy and one time Beach Boy, now suffers with Dementia and will probably never sing them again.

I had these songs in my head when I woke up this morning, so this week's canvases practically painted themselves.

Before Johnny Cash bowed out in 2003, as part of his Rick Rubin produced series of American albums, he recorded, for me, the definitive version of Wichita Lineman.