Kev came up from uni and introduced me to his POD, a guitar fx module with an array of guitar sounds. After a bit of goofing he fell into his usual country-esque style of hard rockin' and the riff was born, so I edited some gaps for verses and Kev had a play with overlapping single lines.
(Also in this session we recorded a guitar part that would later become the song 'Everything and Nothing', track 1 on this album.)
Some time after, my brother came up from college to visit and gave my room an overhaul, deciding it wasn't a constructive working (or living) space, and consequently gave me a nice new start; emotionally as well as physically. I hadn't realized I'd fallen into a slump, but following his visit I was feeling born again, so I took the riffs me and Kev had developed and wrote the lyrics about my rejuvenation.
Fucked up young! Some love for fun.
Some work hard and never love anyone.
Some love love and make love,
And some love come and fuck young so it’s over and done.
The problem, friends, is your desire to listen
Is overridden by a need to speak, so you’re missing me.
Escaping to die became dying to stay
And now I write with a passion that’s ripping the page.
You know it wasn’t that I missed someone
It’s that I missed being someone.
I missed the sun.
Curtains are drawn no more.
Born again.
Torn from depression and booze by Ben.
Han had gone back to Kent full of intent
And I was trying to write these lyrics all over again,
But my head had gone numb and my soul was asleep.
Cos while my sister was busy loving living what happened to me?
Mum’s making a life, Dad’s taking a wife.
Benny did a year in a fortnight and then appeared here
Cleared shit in my room, sorted my head.
It’s like I said: I’m born again.
I wake up and seem to be
Somewhere I’ve never been.
Seen it in a movie scene
Read it in a magazine.
Watched it on the T.V
Heard it on a CD
Blow away an enemy
Do the dirty, keep it clean.
Breathe slow, breathe deep
Schizophrenic inner peace
Driving on pure green
Filled her up with gasoline
Wonder how to plead
Easy, I’m guilty.
I killed him in a wet dream.
A dream?
Fuck me, I’m dreaming of being a thug slug-fest cold killer,
And a woman I lost. She’s so real I can feel her.
When I’m sleeping I’m keeping repeating times of my life in my head,
But instead of staying alive I was dying or dead.
This was the first sign that times had to change.
I’d started disowning myself instead of owning the stage.
I was out of control, had a dance with the devil,
But now I’m born again…and on a whole new level.
You won’t ever make a bitch of Timmy
Cos I’m so rich with the love inside me.
If you wanna play you can play alone cos I ain’t got time for ‘I don’t know’!
(Ha ha ha ha!)
(Gentlemen, what we’ve got here is a classic case of psychotic denial.)
(What? No, it’s not that, it’s just…)
The honour of creating a soundtrack to moment or memory is one I hope to achieve with you somewhere here in these 13 albums. I've enjoyed living all of them. I hope you will as well. Much love.
Tim
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