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Tired and musing on possibly the worst song lyric ever
Tuesday, February 26th, 2008 10:44 amInterrupted sleep last night on account, I think, of two things.
Firstly I expended a great deal of nervous energy during the day. I’m not usually like that at interviews, but yesterday I was. I was wound up like a clock spring and found it hard to relax at any point. I’m not sure how I managed to work myself into that state: I am usually quite placid and let things wash over me.
Secondly, being games night, we ordered in a takeaway and last night it was pizza. As I’ve observed before, I love pizza, but the feeling is not reciprocated. I thought I’d got away with it, but no – at 5.30 this morning I awoke with indigestion – not as bad as on other occasions, but enough to wake me up. I had woken up briefly before then, but without the acid, which is why I thought that I’d dodged the bullet. Sadly it seems that the bullet was travelling a little slower than usual.
Anyway, the upshot is that I am a little tired this morning, though the coffee will kick in shortly I have no doubt.
On the way home last night I picked up Goldfrapp’s new album, Seventh Tree. I have only managed to have a cursory listen to the first few tracks, but it sounds promising. A more in depth listen tonight, with luck. I also picked up Katie Melua’s latest album, though I haven’t listened to it yet. Such is the quality of her voice, that I can even forgive the awful words of the first single from the album, Mary Pickford. Actually, that’s a lie: the words are really awful and I have to consciously ignore them to listen to Katie’s singing voice. I expect that song was written by Mike Batt:
( Lyric hidden to preserve readers’ sanity )
I mean really, there should be laws against this. The interweb confirms that this was perpetrated by Mike Batt. Kudos to the man for discovering her, but minus several million points for “guiding” her into recording songs like this and minus several million more for writing them in the first place. He’ll have her recording a new arrangement of The Wombles next.
I read somewhere that their contract runs out with this album, so maybe she can ditch his Svengali-like presence and get herself a music arranger who can come up with better words.
Luckily the rest of the album is rather better, but I suspect that I shall be starting each listen from track two.
Firstly I expended a great deal of nervous energy during the day. I’m not usually like that at interviews, but yesterday I was. I was wound up like a clock spring and found it hard to relax at any point. I’m not sure how I managed to work myself into that state: I am usually quite placid and let things wash over me.
Secondly, being games night, we ordered in a takeaway and last night it was pizza. As I’ve observed before, I love pizza, but the feeling is not reciprocated. I thought I’d got away with it, but no – at 5.30 this morning I awoke with indigestion – not as bad as on other occasions, but enough to wake me up. I had woken up briefly before then, but without the acid, which is why I thought that I’d dodged the bullet. Sadly it seems that the bullet was travelling a little slower than usual.
Anyway, the upshot is that I am a little tired this morning, though the coffee will kick in shortly I have no doubt.
On the way home last night I picked up Goldfrapp’s new album, Seventh Tree. I have only managed to have a cursory listen to the first few tracks, but it sounds promising. A more in depth listen tonight, with luck. I also picked up Katie Melua’s latest album, though I haven’t listened to it yet. Such is the quality of her voice, that I can even forgive the awful words of the first single from the album, Mary Pickford. Actually, that’s a lie: the words are really awful and I have to consciously ignore them to listen to Katie’s singing voice. I expect that song was written by Mike Batt:
( Lyric hidden to preserve readers’ sanity )
I mean really, there should be laws against this. The interweb confirms that this was perpetrated by Mike Batt. Kudos to the man for discovering her, but minus several million points for “guiding” her into recording songs like this and minus several million more for writing them in the first place. He’ll have her recording a new arrangement of The Wombles next.
I read somewhere that their contract runs out with this album, so maybe she can ditch his Svengali-like presence and get herself a music arranger who can come up with better words.
Luckily the rest of the album is rather better, but I suspect that I shall be starting each listen from track two.
