02 Learning Notes

And so the songwriting became more prolific. I had a room on my own, fairly isolated from the rest of the house I was staying in, so I could bash the guitar without anyone minding much (I hope). Also recording, albeit onto a small but robust cassette record (with a brilliant built in condenser microphone), was important. There were the usual standard fantasies about ‘making it’ and this required demos but there was a deeper need to record for posterity or whatever. I would have forgotten them otherwise.

1. Party

This is largely true. Somehow I got invited to a party in the first month or so at Durham. I am awful at parties, never being able to judge when to small talk or when to go a bit deeper, never knowing when to move on, afraid of being stuck in the corner with no-one to talk to. I don’t remember her name or what she looked like and I doubt if we ever met again. But we connected and I enjoyed the conversation. Background but ever present fantasies began to kick in and even as the doleful words ‘Is she the one?’ were forming in my head, she was gone.

2. You and me

A rueful look book at my ‘childhood sweetheart’. Clearly my love-life was going nowhere and I was wondering why I’d let go what I once had. Technically a descending bass line on the acoustic was about as much as I could manage (and still is). When we recorded this at Hillside I particularly liked Chris’ honky-tonk piano.

3. I knew a girl

Panto time again. Oh yes it is. This one stands on its own though. I like the chord sequence and I like the harking back to innocent times. More than one person has commented on the ‘two different people’ line.The only problem is that it is a woman’s song: I feel a little bit foolish singing it, which says more about me than the song.

4. Funereal

Hm, yes. The first thing to say that it started off being about myself. So that puts into the realm of self-conscious sixth form suicidal ramblings. But it moved on from there. It was taken up enthusiastically by Garrison Lane and became a sort of ironic anthem. I think I was getting at the most people’s ambiguity about death: sorrow and ‘glad it isn’t me'. It certainly works a lot better with electricity and drums than with a bedsit acoustic.

5. Fresh as a daisy

From my bedroom window in Durham I saw many students going by, some of whom were freshers. Maybe even at the age of 22 18 year olds looked young. It’s really a little nursery rhyme (unusually for me in triple time), made ironic by my being a fresher myself (albeit a postgraduate one).

6. If only I could

Another gazing out of the window song. From my work room I could see a blonde lab assistant (or so I guessed) going about her work. She wasn’t greatly attractive but more than enough for me. It was half a song of wishful thinking, supplemented by a couple of modern verses.

7. Never forget you

This is a real love song. It was written when I returned to Durham from Felixstowe and being strong in the face of separation is the fairly clear message. But it also had an in-built sense of ultimate failure. Which is typical. The truth was that due to my inhibitions the relationship didn’t really have a chance anyway. It’s much easier relishing a girlfriend from afar than actually having to commit yourself in any way.

8. Never let you go

I’m always in two minds about this one. Intended as a reflection on the destructiveness of grasping on to what you’ve got. I never convinced myself that the repetition worked. But I liked the middle bits and am particularly fond of the coda – hence it being here rather than quietly buried. Another one done by Garrison Lane at our first concert and less quietly buried.

9. Never written a song

1) Never start a song title with ‘never’.

2) I have written a song.

10. Not enough

Another half song saved from (even more) obscurity because I liked the chorus. New verses have been added.

11. Blessed are they

This is a rarity. The words come from an edition of the parish magazine of St John’s Felixstowe, ‘found amongst the papers of…’. I don’t know who wrote the words but they obviously made an impression. And still do: the writer finding grace in the trials and humiliations of growing old.

12. Sundays

On a soapbox. Shot through with hypocrisy as well as I am more than familiar with routine and don’t exactly welcome strangers into my midst. The song illustrates my tensions with the church: can’t live with it, can’t live without it. How can/should the spirit be organised?

13. The song with no title

Once again I tackle the fear of complacency. Not that a 22 year old postgraduate had a lot to be complacent about. But I hated being shut out - as a child the tag of ‘cry baby’ meant plenty of exclusion. Not wanting to be left out means a sensitivity to not leaving others out. There’s little worse than ‘you can’t be in our club’ mentality. It’s probably the root of all evil.

The title is not deep, just laziness. Chris was keen to do it with Garrison Lane, it needed a title and I couldn’t think of one.

14. Sarah's song

I went on a Broads holiday with friends from Felixstowe and it became the first occasion that Chris and I played and wrote together. So it was an important moment (I don’t think the others thought so – they got fed up with us shutting ourselves away, especially for the recording on the last day). Although there were collaborations this song was written by me. The chorus was taken from the instructions for opening a milk carton (not an invitation to exotic sexual activity as some people seemed to think) and the whole thing was based upon our friend Sarah’s motherly concern about the cup of tea situation. It’s laced with milk and tea references.

15. Pump out song

Written on the Broads holiday it was a little lavatory humour based on the practical reality of waste disposal on a boat. The all male Garrison Lane loved it and it was a nice 12 bar structure so it was played live and recorded.

16. Boats that pass

Very poor quality sound because this is the actual recording on the boat. I'm playing rhythm and Chris lead. There are only two chords and these intermingle as the imaginary boats pass and are reversed as they recede.