Monaco

So there’s this girl. And she’s awesome. We met months and months ago. I liked her from the start, and I daresay she liked me too. We stayed up into the wee small hours talking about all kinds of big and small things, without any awkward pauses, or moments of boredom or offense or anything like that. And then we kinda went our separate ways. She was coming out of a serious relationship and I was living a couple of hundred miles away. Nothing had really happened; there were sparks, but neither of us acted on them, so it was easy enough to drift off.

A while later, I moved nearby. She certainly wasn’t the sole reason, but. Well, anyway. We reprised our sparky friendship, and then one week it kinda grew into a little more. We talked. Nothing serious. She wasn’t looking for a big relationship. I was cool with that. Or at least I said I was. I think I thought I was. Anyway. She went off on a weekend break in Monaco (a divorce party [not hers, mind]  apparently. Seems an odd thing to throw a party for, to me) and I wrote this little song.

A while later we went on our first proper ‘date’ (celebrating my newfound gainful employment). I silenced a busy Nando’s with my impersonation of the sound giant tortoises (or more accurately, male giant tortoises) make when mating. She turned bright red. Fun was had, wine consumed. Afterwards, in a doorway on our way back towards the station where I was seeing her off, I played her the song through my headphones, and tried not to die of embarrassment while she silently stood, occasionally smiling nervously at me. She liked it, and told me as much.

That night is so vivid in my mind, while last week is as hazy as my childhood. Funny how the significant days burn their way into your memory.

I like this song. It’s cheesy pop, which isn’t my usual forte, but I think it works quite well. I could do my usual thing of deconstructing the component parts, drawing your attention to the lazy bits, but I won’t. I like it, and that’s enough. And it has a cheesy guitar solo. And cheesy strings (but gosh darn it, if I do say so myself, they’re bloody well-arranged strings…).

Monaco

Strange to think I felt
So closed off
When all I had to do was try to
Talk to someone new, and I found you.

You’re off to Monaco:
Good luck
Flirting in casinos with other
Blokes, but I don’t mind I really don’t

Because in time I’m sure
You will be mine
The way I’m yours,
If you want me

It’s funny how one night,
Two evenings and a day
Can make me feel this way
About someone who’s not even looking for love;

But even so I know,
I know
I’m at least someone you like,
And that’s alright; that’s all I really wanted

Because in time I’m sure
You will be mine
The way I’m yours,
If you want me

(You don’t know what you want you just know what you like
I don’t know what I want I just know what I like)
[repeat ad lib]

Because in time I’m sure
You will be mine
The way I’m yours,
If you want me.

Explanation

I abandoned my blog. I abandoned a lot of things. I can’t promise I won’t abandon them again. If you’re reading this (and by virtue of the fact you’re reading this, you obviously are reading this) then there is at least some point to posting blogs here, besides creating a repository for spammers to post pointless comments that I barely bother to read before deleting. But since you are reading this, why not comment? Even if it’s just to tell me that I, my blog, or my music are shit. It’d be nice to know there’s someone other than a hundred million spam bots out looking at my page, even if you don’t happen to like it.

Deary me I sound rather insecure, don’t I? I’m by nature quite insecure. But I think I’m getting better at feeling secure in real life, so I blame the fact that the internet is so impersonal, and that blogs (or at least, unpopular ones) are about as interactive as a shelf of dusty books. The authors don’t know if they’re being read, and the readers don’t know if the authors are even alive still. I should make an effort to read and comment on other blogs; use the law of reciprocity to my advantage. But that seems so cynical, and the honest truth is that I have neither the time nor the patience to read and reply to enough bloggers to put my name out and about. I’m a muso, not a pro-blogger.

Anyway, muso. Aha! Yes that was the point. I have a new soundcloud page over here, and while it might not be to everyone’s tastes, the music on there is (at present) rather poppy. So maybe it will be less divisive than my other muzak. I’ll be posting individual tracks here, along with little rambles about what inspired them or whatever else comes to mind, over the next week or so.

Hope you like the new tuneage. Let me know.

Bish
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