Songs for Emily Valentine: meaning of songs, track by track
1) Terminator 2 Written when most of the material had been composed
and I was feeling generous, this song was written for my old friend
Peter Gutteridge and intended for Snapper to play; for
this reason it is simple and suits distortion. "Terminator 2" was P.G.'s
favourite film, probably still is. But it ended up too much like a Puddle
song and became a live favourite. The lyrics were intended more
as a warning than a promise; I may be musical but that doesn't make
me a pacifist. Like Pete, I appreciate good urban weaponry. Lock'n'load.
2) Lucky all the Time Who loves last loves longest. The riff
an attempt to copy Keith Richards, the chords an homage to Burt
Bacharach. Always wanted an excuse to play that guitar solo. Great
bass playing from Vikki who, instructed to "play something like
do-be-do-be-do-do-do-do", produced this marvellous bass figure, while
Norman provided the tightest "disco" hi-hat rhythm in order to
make this a dance track (it's about a verse too long if you're sitting
down).
3) Political Sluts A tribute to "Sugar Man" Rodriguez,
whose scathing political rants use similar minor progressions, this
song is about no-one in particular. I know politicians are not omnipotent,
but, for Gods sake, did you know that cannabis is still illegal in New
Zealand? Nothing illustrates more clearly the contempt they have for
us. Without courage or convictions, "our" politicians continue to impose
these alien values on us. My rights have been signed away to please
slimy old Americans who similarly oppress their own people; people have
been murdered for less. Sic semper tyrannis.
4) Disco Nymph Written on tour, inspired by some sweet young
girl on the dancefloor. Finished on the Wellington waterfront near the
ferry terminal on a crisp and sunny morning. Celia's vocals make
this special, the guitar solo is one I've wanted to record since I first
heard Fripp & Eno. The keyboard sound was rather unsettling at
first, but I've trusted to Richard's judgement and I still find
it unsettling.
5) Southern Man A successful attempt to piggyback on a prolific
advertising campaign while using Sex Pistols/Stooges chord progressions.
But what's it all about? Does it really mean anything? I wondered till
recently - then, reading "Axel's Castle" by Edmund Wilson,
it all fell into place. Symbolist poetry, which impressed me greatly
when I was twenty, evokes images by allusion and association. Imagine
a character, a rock star much like me in 1991, moving in and out of
a dream state and soliloquising like Molly Bloom about his lifestyle
and associates, in the type of liminal, hypnagogic state where you can
be the very thing that you are watching. That makes it sensible to me.
6) Season of the Wolf I seem to know a hell of a lot of crazy
people. This is for one of them, the cutest and least annoying. The
first 2 chords are so corny, Lou Reed used them in "Coney
Island Baby", most of the others are the chords of Don McClean's
beautiful "Vincent" in a different order. When in doubt, borrow
a phrase from Cathal Coughlan; that's what kicks off this lyric.
It's hard to find nursery rhymes not already looted by The Beatles,
but I manage. The sax player is a guy called Simon, from Richard's
other band, "Fast Food at 8".
7) Contact Rock This song was written on the same night as "Sex
Kittens of Phoenix" (recorded by Mink) and the short story
"Early Morning Manduck Street" that appeared in Vault magazine.
I love the lazy, strutting feel of the rhythm section. The panning lead
guitar fills, lines of thirds played with one finger on one string,
are something I've wanted to use in a song since I learned to play.
8) Mamelons d'Amadou The only song written prior to 1991, this
belongs substantially to 1978, when I lived above the Terrace in Wellington
with Lindsay Maitland and Richard Sedger. The lyrics were
written by the peurile ploy of looking up dirty words in an english-french
dictionary. However, the dictionary dated from the 1920's and many French
equivalents were argot, localised slang terms already out of date when
it was published. They do not appear at all in modern French dictionaries!
Amadou meant "punk" and "tinder" (punk was originally the rotten wood
dried and used for tinder); it was meant to be clever, but turned out
to be merely obscure. Originally called "Sodomie", the chorus went "Sodomie,
tout est permis", very Jean Genet. When I met Bill
Direen (in 1978 he was better known as Bill Diamond,
a radio DJ) that was the song I played him.
9) Exiles One of 2 songs written in Invercargill prison. In
1990 I'd learned about Pauline Parker and Juliet Hulme and
decided to write a song about them. I was in a folie a deux relationship
at that time: also, I could sympathise with them being young, creative,
and trapped here (I'd lived in Invercargill between 1966 and 1976).
But the way to tell the story escaped me until I was in prison: then
it became obvious. By a coincidence, Fran Walsh, who I'd played
many gigs with when she was in the Wallsockets and I in the Spies
in 1979-80 Wellington, was working on the film "Heavenly Creatures"
with partner Peter Jackson at the same time.
10) The Power of love An apologia for domestic violence, I wrote
this slightly twisted love song at Demarnia Lloyd's flat while
she helped me track down the girl I wrote 2) and 13) for. Demarnia
and Al Starrett, who played viola here, would soon join me
in Mink. Al Stewart's "The Year of the Cat" is a masterpiece.
11) Sth Dn Hood My friend Ross Shallish used to joke
about mutual aquaintances being "South Dunedin hoods" (Sth Dn
being, quite literally, on the wrong side of the tracks). There were
a few of them in gaol when I was there. Dunedin's lumpenproletariat
is ethnically homogenous and rather better educated than that of any
other city (it takes brains to make heroin from codiene, brains that
are wasted in prison). The story is a cliched one, but no less true
for that. Everyone contributed something important to the music, be
it only an unexpected chord, so that everyone could have a small share
in the royalties if the album was a runaway success.
12) You Are A Animal The second song I wrote in Invercargill
prison. It grew more verses over time. My glockenspiel, which I play
here, is the same one that appears on King Loser recordings.
13) Someone To Love In 1991 I fell for a girl in the audience
at Sammy's, I tracked her down, long story (see track 2) but I'm with
her now. This was the first song I wrote about her. It was originally
recorded as a slow, sentimental pavane of a duet with Celia.
I played a phased guitar and glockenspiel, Chris Heazlewood recorded
it and it went to #1 on student radio. This is the dance version.
