beccy posted the last three songs she'd listen to before all the ipods, radios and banjos* in the world stopped working, and then tagged enid to do the same. while enid is very chuffed and grateful to be tagged for only the second time ever, she's very nervous. you see, in her house, the man is the one who does music. enid's tastes are not fashionable or exciting. she likes to call rap "crap with a silent 'c'", which the man, who thinks of himself as john peel reincarnated, doesn't find funny. (not even the first time.)
(*probably banjos would actually still work after the cataclysmic event that stopped music. and so would bagpipes.)
once, when enid and the man had been going out for just a few weeks, two of the man's friends came to stay. late in the evening, after quite a lot of alcohol had been imbibed, the man opened a cupboard, where enid had hidden her albums, and showed them to his friends.
"sting!" they laughed, clutching their sides.
"simon and garfunkel!" they hooted, tears streaming from their eyes.
"al stewart!" they guffawed, rolling around on the floor.
so you can probably understand that, although enid does have some 21st century tastes, she's still nervous about sharing hr music with anyone except her psychiatrist. ah well, here goes.
she'll start with a blast from the past - patterns by simon and garfunkel, because when she was 18 and even more terminally untrendy than she is today, this song summed up enid's fears about life. she often chooses songs for their lyrics - probably why the man and his friends mock her choice of ear food.
From the moment of my birth
To the instant of my death,
There are patterns I must follow
Just as I must breathe each breath.
Like a rat in a maze
The path before me lies,
And the pattern never alters
Until the rat dies.
enid's spent a lot of her life living abroad, not having children, avoiding any hint of a life with patterns in it. was it the right decision? would she have been happier with someone she met at 20 and two children? and in the end, is not doing that more of a pattern than going for all the everyday anti-patterns (chaos) that children bring?
enid can't find this on youtube, so here's another favourite of hers, original video from the sixties too...
here's something a bit more recent - the jeweller by this mortal coil.
The jeweler has a shop
On the corner of the boulevard
In the night, in small spectacles
He polishes old coins
He uses spit and cloth and ashes
He makes them shine with ashes
He knows the use of ashes
He worships God with ashes.
enid loves the idea of an old man doing his best work even though no-one really notices or cares. a bit like those stone carvers in cathedrals that did as good a job on the bits no-one could see, because god could. (enid doesn't believe in god, nor he in her. it's a metaphor.) she also loves the minor key of this song, really haunting, she thinks.
(she's not found a very good version of the song on youtube - it only starts a fair way in, and then it's not as good as the one she has in itunes. but it will give you the idea.)
and finally, because english speakers tend to think that french music is crap (with a capital 'c' rather than a silent one), here's enid's favourite french song, from a couple of years ago. it's "elle m'a dit," by cali. it makes her want to cry because she misses france.
Je crois que je ne t'aime plus.
Elle m'a dit ça hier,
ça a claqué dans l'air
comme un coup de revolver.
Je crois que je ne t'aime plus.
Elle a jeté ça hier,
entre le fromage et le dessert
comme mon cadavre à la mer.
edit: enid totally forgot to tag anyone. she tags sally and juvation. (juvation's a pop star, so he'll put her to shame. sally probably has good taste (as opposed to enid, not juvation. although...)