Music & Lyrics

So much for my blogging break, eh. I should be unplugging but everytime I hear or see something I like, I want to blog it. I always imagined that if I were to write about anything, (aside from work stuff) it would be music. That was my bag, long before handbags and shoes were. I've played guitar since I was 13, twanged for a couple of garage bands and contributed some dodgy riffs to the odd choir album. When I was younger, I wanted more than anything to write for Kerrang magazine. Ha. Somehow, I've ended up punting 'two for the price of one' curry deals. Well, among other things.

My taste in music isn't particularly edgy or cool. These days, I usually have no idea what the hipsters are referencing. I'm a grunge girl through and through although I do have a penchant for cheesy metal. My only pop album, Britney Spears' 'Greatest Hits' is sandwiched between this lot but I could make room for Gagaloo and that Cheryl Cole.

I'm sure we all feel this way but I really do have a record for every year. Tonight, I'm listening to the Arctic Monkeys (circa London '08) and was just reminded of one my favourite lyrics. Sooo...I thought I'd blog those and some other faves. These aren't necessarily my ultimate faves, my mind is too hazy right now to remember 'em all. And yes, I googled these below:)

Last night what we talked about,
It made so much sense,
But now the haze has ascended,
It don't make no sense anymore"
Arctic Monkeys, From Ritz To The Rubble

A cloud hangs over this city by the sea,
I watch the ships pass and wonder if she might be,
Out there and sober as a well for loneliness,
Please do persist girl its time we met and made, a mess
Incubus, Anna Molly

How I wish you could see the potential,
the potential of you and me.
It's like a book elegantly bound but,
in a language that you can't read.
Death Cab For Cuties, I Will Possess Your Heart

she shakes and she moves me or something
she's like jellyroll like sculpture
i was wearing eyeliner
she was wearing eyeliner
it was so good down here
saving for my scrapbook here
way down down down in this subbacultcha
Pixies, Subbacultcha

Someone falls to pieces
Someone kills the pain
Spinning in the silence
She finally drifts away
Someone gets excited
In a chapel yard
And catches a bouquet
Another lays a dozen
White roses on a grave
Audioslave, Be Yourself

And the sky was made of amethyst
And all the stars were just like little fish
Violet, Hole

I love music. When you can't find the words, you can always play a song.
(Especially when you don't know how to tell someone 'they're like jellyroll, like sculpture.' What the flip is Jellyroll, Black Francis?)