I've long been amused by the number of Scottish pop aficionados who bestow Jock status upon Lloyd Cole, all because the Buxton-born and Chapel-en-le-Frith-reared songwriter attended the University of Glasgow for a few semesters in the early 80s. Shit, Cole didn't even graduate from that institution.
If this cursed blog has taught us anything, it's that Scotland certainly does not suffer from a dearth of pop virtuosi -- yes, tin ear, there is life beyond Shirley Manson and Big Country! There's no need to claim an individual of clear English stock as one of the country's own. The whole thing slightly reeks of desperation; it even reminds me of when a certain professional sports franchise retired this star's number.
Anyway, this little endeavor does grant me the opportunity to post a track from Cole's (and The Commotions', too, of course; can't forget about them) landmark album, Rattlesnakes, which easily ranks among my all-time top 10. On that LP's closing tracks, Cole sang, "Are you ready to be?/Are you ready to bleed?/Are you ready to be heartbroken?"
Twenty-two years later, he finally got his response.
Hear it for yourself. Download: "Patience" by Lloyd Cole & The Commotions and "Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken by Camera Obscura.
"Say, Puritan, can it be wrong/To dress plain Truth in witty song: What honest Nature says we should do/ Despite its disadvantages, Scottish rock has railed against consequent ghettoisation to produce a body of music disproportionate to the size of its population. (Thank you, Brian Hogg, for that analysis.) We're making sure that body never dies. Read, listen, be happy. Be tartan.
What every Lady does, or would do?" -- Robert Burns
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Lots of maudlin mush
She was craving romance. Flickering candles, a poem read to her in Irish, a few dainty roses, a table tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, where we would push our seats really close together. My goodness, the kind of maudlin mush woman pine for and men frequently bumble up when trying to deliver.
I tried my damndest at delivering the goods, so much so that when the end of the evening rolled around, she was satisfied -- or at least, gave the appearence of being satisfied. And after 25 years of marital bliss (!), I've learned that definitely suffices. (Twenty years ago, of course, I thought differently.)
We retired to a small pub on the ocean, so she could have her nightcap. There was a small group of musicians heartily belting out song; she said I should request one. "Why not ask for 'Galway Bay?'" she suggested. "Since we are here and all." My, what a glorious idea! (I'm quite skilled in the art of flattery, I should let you know.) So up I went, my suggestion at the ready. The ole boys agreed and a few sips of her red wine later, "Galway Bay" commenced.
Only it wasn't the version she was expecting. I'm quite the devil. "Just to watch the suds roll down by Galway Bay!" Here's The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem doing their own version of "Galway Bay."
I tried my damndest at delivering the goods, so much so that when the end of the evening rolled around, she was satisfied -- or at least, gave the appearence of being satisfied. And after 25 years of marital bliss (!), I've learned that definitely suffices. (Twenty years ago, of course, I thought differently.)
We retired to a small pub on the ocean, so she could have her nightcap. There was a small group of musicians heartily belting out song; she said I should request one. "Why not ask for 'Galway Bay?'" she suggested. "Since we are here and all." My, what a glorious idea! (I'm quite skilled in the art of flattery, I should let you know.) So up I went, my suggestion at the ready. The ole boys agreed and a few sips of her red wine later, "Galway Bay" commenced.
Only it wasn't the version she was expecting. I'm quite the devil. "Just to watch the suds roll down by Galway Bay!" Here's The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem doing their own version of "Galway Bay."
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