As Claw"s given me the go-ahead to rip off her music vid posts in her blonde diary, here"s my first selection.
It"s from
Elvis Costello. It was bound to be really. I first got into the former Declan Patrick MacManus as a callow youth of 15, very nearly 32 years - THIRTY-TWO (wow!) years ago! This was just after his iconic album Armed Forces was released.
I"ve been to see him in concert probably half a dozen or so times but not for a very long time now. I think I ought to add it to my 2011 (/12?) goals to catch up with him live again.
He"s just released his 32nd studio album - National Ransom - which is his now trademark eclectic mix of innumerable musical styles.
My current fave, which always entails cranking the stereo up a notch, is Bullets For The New-Born King - a folky ditty.
This isn"t the best recording to say the least but it"s the only one I could find:
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Op3qsy3B0Jk[/youtube]
BULLETS FOR THE NEW-BORN KING
No one looks in this place for motive or any hope
But for the dead shot of an amber glass
The blue light of a votive
The rain obscured the window
As the pain was dulled by the grains
Absolved in spoons and flames
In fear in time dissolving
It's not for the faint of pulse
Or anybody false
Those amateurs who only shed their skin
So where are those traitors now, we once called patriots?
Just like those saints who seem to revel in their sins
O my eyes were filled with tears that were stinging
After our assassin's work was done
But hands and bells are only there for the wringing
As we were bringing bullets for the new-born king
The trumpet sounds lamenting
Trampling down the blooms of the deceased
The double agent girl and the fallen priest were heading for the border
Somewhere at the high command there stayed the palest hand
That saw the order countermand
Erased a tape recorder and then they hung him from a window cord
Swallow down that voodoo vial to still your breath a while
Before we spill this tale that has been spun
And so I shall now confide all that I once denied
Oh I'm so sorry for the things I've done
O my eyes were filled with tears that were stinging
After our assassin's work was done
But hands and bells are only there for the wringing
As we were bringing bullet for the new-born king