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We were honoured to receive this parting letter from @RedSox President, Sam Kennedy, following our stay in Boston.
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#itwasaverygoodyear
A different year of music every week. This week: 2004
Today’s song from 2004 stuck in my head
The Libertines- Can’t Stand Me Now
https://t.co/Ge4CuSBnZR
@batcountry1980 Had never heard this until getting a rhythm factory compilation from the first libertines era. Ragged version hidden at the end of a stunning Pete acoustic back from the dead (still the best version of that). I was convinced for a time it was the best song ever written.
Kinda restores your faith in humanity when you hear a song as good as Another Girl, Another Planet. If humans can create something as incredible as this, maybe there is hope for us as a species.
#itwasaverygoodyear
A different year of music every week. This week: 1980
Today’s song from 1980 stuck in my head
The Clash- The Call Up
https://t.co/D9TW8EmxOn
@batcountry1980 …which I only know now,after hearing it at 14 for the first time in ‘97…layers I suppose. Regardless,this had the same effect on me as the stone roses,that is,it was a masterpiece on first listen. https://t.co/zhIVPt4rKx just because…
@batcountry1980 There’s absolutely no need for what a waster to get chucked in the end of the up the bracket re-issue. I get along clatters the album to a close…by design,job done. If by that time you’re not aware of the debut single…well,god,I don’t even wanna know you.
Nicolas Winding Refn chose "Nightcall" for DRIVE'S (2011) opening because its haunting synths and retro vibe set the perfect moody, nocturnal tone for the film and captured the Driver’s sense of isolation.
The British & Irish Lions are incredibly sad to hear of the death of Lion 617, Scott Hastings.
All our thoughts are with Scott’s family at this deeply upsetting time.
The subversive genius of ‘Song For Whoever’, and it is bloody genius, is the ridiculous juxtaposition at its heart. You’ve got this lovely, lullaby like melody that carries what is, on first glance, a tender tribute to the girls who’ve inspired his music.
But then your ear catches the cruelty behind the words, and it clicks that this isn’t any kind of love song, but one of the most heartless and honest reflections on the creative process you’ll hear. There’s no myth here, the romantic poet with the open heart. This is about the cruel mechanics of songwriting, the pain that feeds the machine, and the money it brings.
He’s not singing about girls he’s loved, or if he did, it’s from the bottom of his pencil case, not heart. And there’s so many he forgets their names. These are girls he’s hurt and made cry, that he feeds off till his fountain pen runs dry, a vampire for verses of sadness. He doesn’t even pretend otherwise. He tells us he’s writing this very song, this song for whoever, to get a hit. To carry on up the charts. To reap the number one. So cry, lover, cry.
That’s the real twist of the knife. Most pop songs play dress up. This one is uncomfortable in its exposure of the absolute bastard behind it, and still somehow makes that part of the charm.
It’s such a cruel song. And yet the music is so magical, David Rotheray’s vocal so gentle, that when Paul Heaton comes in with that jaunty reeling-off of names, you can’t help but think, “this is lovely, this.”
And then there’s the extra layer, a wee bit of a meta joke extending beyond the song itself. Because he doesn’t get his number one here, it stalls at two. The hit he’s chasing so openly never quite arrives. But ‘A Little Time’ is a number one. And that song feels like it’s come straight from this list. One of these whoevers, one of these half-used, half-broken relationships, gets fleshed out, given its backstory, and reaps that number one he’s been chasing.
https://t.co/MkXpyGS1PD