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"But I remember the way you used to use your eyes
I remember your eyes and your thighs and
The jet black tights you wore underneath your long blue shirt
You bought second-hand to keep you dry on rainy nights
So who told you you were a country girl?
Who told you you were a country girl?
Star-crossed lovers headed for disaster
You took a lifetime on the morning after..."
I remember your eyes and your thighs and
The jet black tights you wore underneath your long blue shirt
You bought second-hand to keep you dry on rainy nights
So who told you you were a country girl?
Who told you you were a country girl?
Star-crossed lovers headed for disaster
You took a lifetime on the morning after..."
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You were always very photogenic, with those well-placed cheekbones and turny-up lips. I always wore terrible Oxfam jumpers and pretended to know how to smoke. And, she... well, P just told amazing stories about shagging Morrissey around the back of the Caird Hall in Dundee after that gig in 1985 (wishful thinking!). But, to be nearly honest, I don't miss Paisley one bit, not anymore. I think it's about kicking nostalgia, and 1988/89, into touch. It's about going forwards, in every particular sense, no? I mean, even G has moved on now, quite literally, to plough his younger fields of Barley. Life can change direction in an absolute instant, make no mistake about it. But, something about this song will always remind me of George Street, Friday night at the Union, and you.
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The Bolshoi - 'Lindy's Party' (5.45)
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An album to listen to, now and again. On rainy nights.
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Colin, seriously, that is one fucking awful jumper and the hair, were you trying to be Paisley's Bonzo?
ReplyDeleteYes and no. Yes it was an awful jumper, but I kind of adored its hand-knitted awfulness. I have no idea where it is now, thankfully. And no, I wasn't trying to be Bono but - curious you say that - one evening in Edinburgh circa 1992 I was stopped on Princes St by three (drunk) guys who refused to believe me when I attempted to tell them I WAS NOT BONO (so I pretended to be his secret twin brother). I also worked in the Youth Hostel in Marchmont around this time and many folks passing through commented on my Bono-esque qualities (mainly the nasal similarities). This is all true, btw.
ReplyDeleteI have burned all of the pictures of me around that time. I had sacked Uni and decided to get an apprenticeship as a joiner, as folk will testify, I had a bowl cut, wore dungarees and red Wallabies and thought that I was as cool as fuck, truly misguided individual but weekends were fun.
ReplyDeleteHmmmm. The use of the expression 'cool as fuck' (and yr haircut of choice) kinda gives yr game away Drew... ;) And I wish you'd kept those photos!
ReplyDeleteYou need to come out to the provinces with JC for a drink.
ReplyDeleteI am thinking that's an excellent idea... We'd take the town, just like Iva Davies used to...
ReplyDeleteJust don't wear that jumper! Next weekend, let's get it sorted.
ReplyDeleteBliss bliss bliss - and spooky. I was listening to this song non-stop back in May and somehow missed this post.
ReplyDeleteSpooky! Like the elephants! :)
ReplyDeleteThose elephants are sneaky... ooof it's a combination of Austra and Dive. Sometimes I wish we could meet.
ReplyDelete