Fucks sake, when did this happen? I can however confirm that this is the real deal. Hope use enjoy. Could be another six years before there's a second.
FFS, well there goes the big release In other news, we played the album launch show last night. It was 10/10, of course, but our support act (a francophone MC) pulled out at the last minute because his wife was ill and he had to look after his kid. It looked for a while like we'd be the only act on, but the venue's sound engineer stepped in to do a 30 minute set of Sinatra songs. It was both bizarre and utterly brilliant.
« Last Edit: Sept 29, 2013 15:19:18 GMT by forever »
If no other fucker is going to post their thoughts then I'll post mine:
On the Steps to Market Street: This is probably the song which saved The Wynd. Chris sent me the lyrics years ago, with a rough sketch based around The La’s “Callin’ All” – this was in the days before Out to the Sea – but I couldn’t get anywhere with it for ages until one day it just clicked while I was sitting in front of the TV. That was about a month before we recorded “One Eye on Holy Corner”, and this just had to open it. For the first time it was really just the two of us working on material, and it gave us the confidence to go on and do the record. I think I still prefer the demo – for a long time the album version flirted with overproduction and tens of layered guitars, which sounded shit – and this keeps a bit of that stripped back, live feel.
Our drummer Andy heard us do this the one time we played it (badly) with the original line up, and asked to join the band on the back of it. It’s my favourite The Wynd song to play live.
Favourites: I was pretty naive about sex and drugs and things until I moved to university. This was my formative attempt to write about both of them and try to sound cool. I’m still reserving judgement on how I got on but I like the tune. Musically, it’s a nod to Bernard Butler-era Suede and Blur’s “Jubilee”. Adam, Sandy and I recorded the handclaps round one mic in Sandy’s folks’ house in Priestfield. The Boy Who Had to Deny His Pride: The nearest we’ve ever come to a minor internet hit. The original lyric contained the infamous line “What does she think of the colour of my hat/ This girl seems different, I think I’ll stop and chat”, but for some reason Chris changed it the day we recorded the demo at the Lighthouse. I think I punched the air the first time I heard the men or lunches line. Humour is underused in lyrics these days.
Chris had initially suggested this should sound like The Stone Roses, but the whimsy in the lyrics made me think more of Belle & Sebastian (this was before I got into them). People mention The Smiths, but I think that’s just because it’s in the same key as “There is a Light...” I wrote the music in 5 minutes and the outro comes from Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright”. The Scheme: The oldest song on the record and the first thing we ever played as a band. I wrote this when I was sixteen, jetlagged in a Singapore hotel room. The lyrics are a bit teen-angsty and ultimately not very good, so it’s probably a good thing that there aren’t very many of them. I honestly can’t remember the musical inspiration, but it was written around that riff at the end of the chorus.
We demoed this a few times and played it for so many years that it got a bit stale. It took a couple of years out of the set after we recorded it and I think the rest did it good. I like the slight scuzz of the album recording. Out to the Sea: This is Chris’ song, really – although Lee Mavers might have something to say about that. I added the chords to the middle 8 and the ending so we could break out of that three chord cycle. Fact fans will no doubt be thrilled to learn it’s the only solo on the record played on a Fender Telecaster. Chris’ vocal is delivered to you through a revolving speaker.
Song for Nicolson Square: Token ballad and another one “saved” by the One Eye on Holy Corner demo. I like the fact it doesn’t have a chorus but I regret not doing more with the breakdown bit and putting on a longer outro. There’s a lot of layering of keyboards and guitars and I think it’s one of Sandy’s best recordings – listen out for his (synth) marimbas in the last verse. The Last of the Great British Summers: In the words of David Brent, this is a real rocking one we close the set with, and it’s usually hammed up a bit. It’s another slice of my embarrassing teenage poetry (it’s vaguely about working in Tesco after I finished school) and, though it doesn’t really sound like it, was inspired by The Strokes’ “NYC Cops”. Recording this one was difficult as the song lends itself to a pub rock arrangement, so I tried to strip it back to acoustics and make it a bit less lumpy. Andy has a nice flourish on the drums at the end.
Gillian: It’s not about Chris’ bird. I wrote the lyrics at my mum and dad’s house in Inverness about some broad I obsessed over when I was at school after I saw her picture in the paper, and changed the name to fit the metre and (in my mind) cunningly disguise who I was talking about. Predictably, just about everyone I met over the next eighteen months was called Gillian, so I got a few funny looks when we started to play it in public. The whole thing is about looking back at your own actions and wincing, probably over whisky, so I aimed for I Am Kloot with the arrangement.
Sunken Angel: Martin, our old bassist, famously punched the wall in the rehearsal room when our original drummer forgot how to do the fill in the middle, three hours before we were due on stage. Andy nails the groove with aplomb though. I played the Stooges-esque one note piano riff in the verses and Hammond in the chorus. To this day Chris has never told me what it’s about, but musical inspiration was The Hollies’ “Bus Stop” and “Carn’t be Trusted” by The Bluetones – I was going through a phase of trying to fit as many chords as possible into any given song. Dulsie Bridge: It’s about the same broad as Song for Nicolson Square, but from the other side of a failed relationship. I came up with the chord sequence while I was out in the car and, like Gillian, it owes a debt to folk music. We had never demoed it before we recorded the album version (come to think of it, it might even be the first take) and I wish we’d spent more time on it as the mix is a bit messy. It wasn’t meant to close the album, but the version of our magnum opus “Friends Say” we recorded and spent the next 12 months trying to mix had no redeeming features whatsoever, so we canned it.
« Last Edit: Oct 12, 2013 12:03:00 GMT by forever »
I started reading those and then thought what a Kelly Jones esque mega cunt, the "wrote this in jet lagged in a Singapore hotel room" or whatever was the final straw.
In other news, we played the album launch show last night. It was 10/10, of course, but our support act (a francophone MC) pulled out at the last minute because his wife was ill and he had to look after his kid. It looked for a while like we'd be the only act on, but the venue's sound engineer stepped in to do a 30 minute set of Sinatra songs. It was both bizarre and utterly brilliant.
