Wednesday 23 January 2013

Brownsville Girl...

Hard to begin on this. Where to start. Something about a mixture of the past and present. Something about a record shop and tears, hearing it and bowing. Something about times when it's all there is and all there is to aspire to. Something about rumours of him writing lyrics, those lyrics, there in the studio, not all of them but always changing. Something about "You can please some of the people part of the time and part of the people all of the time..." and "I'll see him in anything, so I'll stand in line." But it's even deeper really, there's a woman and freedom and a painted desert and "...people who suffered together having stronger connections than those who are most content." and other things dropped effortlessly from a talking tongue that sings. And the rising background and the "Oh, yeah...???" And fame and dreams again, and fame and the gunfighter and defeat and the inevitability and the forever and ever of both those things and Gregory Peck quoting slightly wrong, and another singer's mistake "is... was..." "and forgetfulness at lyrics and the backing ladies getting it right but all wonderfully, so he, and so meant to be wrong and perfect. Like all the other mistakes and moments of clarity. Sometimes this is all there is and all there needs to be... this is truth and truth is this...

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