Here is the second write-up of the ideas and influences behind the songs on my forthcoming album, plus insights into the remaining seven tracks following my earlier post, Album Notes 1.
Falling off the edge of the world
That moment when your everyday life is swung off course by someone you meet. That wonderful feeling of optimism for a new relationship. It can be fleeting or long-lasting, but it’s certainly emotional and impactful.
The first reference to water features here, a theme which rises on occasion throughout the album. This song had been recorded on several occasions in the past, mostly in demo form, but I believe the version on the album is by far the best to date. My elder brother Ken, a respected jazz musician, when listening through the early mixes thought this the best song and consequently influenced the decision for it to begin side A.
Total credit to renowned flautist Andy Findon who delivers a perfect accompaniment and lead, exquisitely giving the opening track the very appropriate feeling of a summer’s sunrise. Listen out for the final seconds when you can hear the very breath of a true master at work.
Head above water
I always think of the tunnels and bridge arches around Waterloo when hearing this. It was meant to illustrate urban loneliness and dreams of escape, while standing alongside those who may face life’s heavier challenges. The reference to magazines gives a hint of its origin time wise. Days before social media took over. A key line comes at the end of the first verse, when a man is “just one of her dreams.” Make of that what you will.
On a personal note, I have learnt so much from my lovely wife Julie and her inspirational daughter Lisa. When we first got together in January 1995, Lisa was just about to turn three. She had been born profoundly deaf but was such an energetic and upbeat child. A genuine reflection of her mother’s approach to life.
Lisa is now a wonderful woman who has overcome many a difficulty and has gained huge respect from my own family. She is often the first person her friends and contemporaries turn to in their times of need. She has definitely taught me so much about patience, understanding and communication.
Lisa’s grandmother Peggy had been the last of eleven and had clearly learned early in life to meet any adversity head on, whilst always retaining a sense of traditional values. Uplifting characteristics that have been passed down the line. Peggy’s sister Liz went out with David Jones in the mid 1960s but dumped him because he was – in her words – ‘weird and a bit boring.’ They had originally met in Beckenham Ballrooms above the cinema in the town. The following year he changed his name to David Bowie and later referenced the cinema and dancehall in ‘Life on Mars.’
The girl I never had
I had a sketch of this song for a very long time and I was very keen to deliver lines that truly reflected the subject matter. I felt it a special idea, namely thinking of the child you could have had with a partner – if you had stayed together. I am also aware the lyric could describe a child who has been tragically lost or with whom a parent has regretfully had little contact as they grew.
I was especially keen for the lyrics to capture the essence of the idea, but it was only when I also thought of ‘the boy I never knew’ that everything came together.
This was the last song we recorded as I only completed the combination of words and music right at the end of our recording sessions. I played it on my Taylor acoustic to Greg just the once and he kindly complimented the writing craft and immediately began planning its musical setting.
My thanks to string arranger Pete Whitfield and cellist Simon Turner of the Hallé for their wonderful contributions.
Love on a summer’s day
This brings together the sun, sky and childhood themes from earlier songs. The first reference to sand appears, which could be from my teenage years on the south coast but perhaps is more likely the stretches exposed at low tide along the Thames. You decide.
I have a photo of my brothers sitting on Bournemouth beach in 1943. Behind them are the stretches of high barbed wire that guarded the shore then. Beyond the wire the beach was mined and evidently Howard got through into the minefield on one occasion but fortunately lived to tell the tale. He went onto join the merchant navy and when ashore in New York in the early 1960s he saw Bob Dylan in Greenwich Village and Fats Domino in a jazz club. Suitably inspired, he took up the saxophone.
I should add at this point that I spent hours considering the sequence of the tracks and knew how important the four corners of a vinyl record could be. Namely, the first and last track on each side. It’s no coincidence that many a classic album boasts a strong track at the end of side one. The artist wants you to turn the disc over!
Farewell to your Valentine
When we finished this track, it quickly struck me as an opening for a side of the vinyl release. I was delighted with the entire confection. Courtesy of the vocal kicking in early and the consummate swing of drummer Ralph Salmins and bassist Geoff Gascoyne, plus the adroit contributions of trumpeter John Thirkell and saxophonist Snake Davis.
I should highlight that every musician involved delivered their parts to Greg from remote locations. Only Greg, his daughter Emily and myself were ever on site at the same time. With the studio being in Canterbury, it made sense to ask the top-class professionals – all of whom had their own recording facilities – to work from home. It meant we missed the joy of sharing the journey face to face, but did save a great deal of travelling for everyone.
The lyric to ‘Farewell’ understandably frames those tricky moments towards the end of a passionate but rocky relationship. A long-term friend thought the song was about alcoholism. Which goes to show that you should just let the listener make of the words what they want. No harm done there. I liked the fact there is a chance reference to ‘killing joke’ and ‘youth’, that group’s bassist. Funny how the mind works and what it will fashion.
Caring soul
As a lyricist, I am always looking to incorporate some of those classic elements from standards. On this occasion, it’s the inclusion of triple rhymes – namely a collection of three rhymes in each of the three verses. A satisfying achievement for a writer. Producer Greg Fitzgerald offered to create a solo piano arrangement based on my guitar chords and he certainly set the scene for a heartfelt recording.
We subsequently filmed a performance-based video of the song at the spacious Rimshot Studios in Sittingbourne, Kent, which can be viewed on my YouTube channel.
I have offered this ballad to a number of renowned singers, even on one occasion in the control room of Studio 2 at Abbey Road, but there’s been no takers so far! I will persevere.
In the comfort of strangers
I imagined a gathering of the characters in the Sunrise story coming together at the historic St John’s Church in Waterloo, close to the main Station, to remember a friend or relative who had passed away. It felt like a conclusion, lyrically and thematically.
Greg and his daughter Emily brilliantly compiled the choir chorus with its numerous harmony vocal parts by moving the microphone painstakingly around the studio. Neatly avoiding any phasing of the collective sound.
My previous album, Birdcage, closed with ‘The day she said I will’, a wedding song. As a result both sets fade with a church-based subject. I can confirm it wasn’t planned but perhaps reflects my beginnings as a choir singer.
The idea of the songs being incorporated into a single theatre style story is explored in the post Waterloo Storyline.
