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Monday, 18 April 2011

Song Number 14: Money In The Pocket (Fire In The Hole)

Not only does track 14 have the longest title so far, but it's also got a sweary in it!

So far we've got 29% of our donation target, but we're already 30% into the year.  I'm not having this!  Somebody donate a tenner so we're keeping up!  The widget's on the right, or go to justgiving.com/songaweek.

So this one popped into my head as a chorus on waking up one morning (this very very very rarely happens!), and I originally thought it was going to be a Johnny Cash-type track.  Mr Alex Creese was over for a Fat Pigeon recording session, and brought his 12-string with him.  I thought it would be nice to take advantage of a new instrument and quickly bashed out the chords for the verse & chorus.  Because these chords were quite simple, it meant the Mid 8 and outro flowed quite easily (suddenly throwing in a load of complicated jazz chords would have sounded totally incongruous - nothing at all to do with it being totally beyond my guitar skills!)

After adding the rest of the instruments to the track I found myself in a similar position to last week, in that I was struggling to find a topic for the lyric.  The original words that had popped into my head for the chorus were:

He's a broken man with a broken heart
and a lot to learn about piggy in the middle
He's a broken man with a broken dream
and a lot to learn about fire in the hole

The whole broken man business and the melody leaned very Cash-wards, but I'm afraid to confess I don't actually like Johnny Cash, and the prospect of stringing out a three minute song of Working Class Americana Misery didn't really inspire me. 

Miserable ≠ Deep
But then I had a problem with a plumber, and the subject of my rage presented itself as the subject of my song.  And I've got much more time for rage as inspiration than misery.  As with Jess's scarf, the Gods served up a suitable topic on a plate.  Quite simply, the bloke said he'd be around in 10 minutes to sort out the central heating.  Four days later we were still waiting.  Hardly a disaster of Vesuvian proportions, I know, but enough to have me stomping my feet in middle class indignation.

So there you go - most of the song's about a plumber.   Well, the chorus isn't really, but I liked the hook so I added some Statler Brothers style harmonies on the top and left it in.  Hope you like it!

1 comment:

A said...

"Later than my nan"


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