Every so often, I will write a song, and spend hours working on it: honing the instrumentation, polishing the lyrics, and generally buffing the whole thing to a high sheen. And then I get to the end and think “Hmm. I’m not right sure about this on reflection.” This is one such effort. Anyway, have a listen, read the lyrics and then we can talk in private afterwards. It’s only 2 minutes long, so it won’t kill you.
Lyrics
My great, great, great grandfather fucked Nell Gwyn
And that is why you’re in the state you’re in
Twenty thousand corpses in the mud
They died to save the pureness of my blood
And yet my crest is lions rampant on a field of purest white
Stride into battle with my name on your lips
Sink to the bottom with my name on your ship
Serve at my pleasure till you’ve paid for your crimes
But kill for my treasure and I’ll make you a knight
I’ll have your guts for garters just you see
‘Cos the deer that you’re eating’s meant for me
The land on which you stand is mine as well
The sky, the sea, and all you see
By right, by deed, by destiny
‘Cos Cerdic was my ancestor, you see?
Stride into battle with my name on your lips
Sink to the bottom with my name on your ship
Serve at my pleasure till you’ve paid for your crimes
But kill for my treasure and I’ll make you a knight
Rule Britannia…
So…
I like the energy of the track. I’m pretty pleased with lyrics. Bits of the instrumentation – the backwards guitars in the intro, the squelchy keyboards in the second verse, the chorus harmonies – I really dig. But even though it’s only a couple of minutes long, I am always slightly relieved when it’s over.
I’ve been trying to put my finger on why without much success ever since I brought it to near completion and can’t really figure out why. Most likely candidate is that is quite sour sounding. I don’t know what scale it uses, but it sounds to my untrained ear that it’s a bit dissonant. That’s apt for the lyrics, which are essentially a half-comic prod at the bizarre nature of the monarchy (in fact, the whole inspiration really came from the opening couple about Nell Gwyn – who was soundly fucked by James II as one of his many bits on the side) but maybe the dissonance isn’t quite my musical bag.
Weird that, isn’t it? You think I’d only do stuff that I like, and then only share it if I was really sure about it. However, you’d be wrong: whether I like it or not, I’ve spent quite a lot of time on this fucking thing, and I need to get it out of my system so I can move on. It is possible however, that given its brevity it will find a home on my third album to break things up a bit.
Maybe you love it though. If so, it’s yours: just send me a cheque for £2.35 to the usual address.