Wednesday, 29 January 2014

Each Song Tells A Story

I have always liked Paul Simon's voice. It began when my Dad handed me an LP and said 'you can have this'. The cover showed two men walking down a track and looking back over their shoulders at the camera. They wore heavy coats and long scarves wrapped around their necks obscuring the lower parts of their faces. I think one of them was holding a cigarette and the whole portrait spoke the word winter and what it meant to be out on your own. Something like that, anyway. All I know is that the picture appealed to my melancholic adolescent disposition. The music was great too. Music, cover: each complimented the other. The antique quality, to my young eyes, of the sinking sun colour of the record's label. Each song told a story.

Of course, this music wasn't cool. I came in for much ribbing from school mates. Somehow this just added to the appeal. Each song on that album was a story. I could visualise the singer/narrator flying down the highway, trying to find 'somewhere, they can't find me.' Or the most peculiar man. I was even sure, even though it happened on a different continent, where the peculiar man lived. It was in a flat near the railway station. The kind of place where a man could be left alone with his books and poetry to protect him. Appropriately, the flat was on Gas Hill Lane. 

 

2 comments:

  1. These two seemed to be part of our family, especially when we lived in Nome and Mom blasted the record player when Dad flew out to villages for his work.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It's a fine record, I think. Thanks Susan.

    ReplyDelete

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