A few people have asked me if my 1,000th song will be my last. I’ll be honest, I’ve considered it. At times writing this blog has been like entering the numbers must have been for Desmond in Lost. It’s something I have to do, even when I don’t want to.
But most of the time I do want to. Most of the time I get a lot out of it: a good debate, a chance to share something that means a lot to me, the opportunity to flex the writing muscles that might have atrophied long ago without this outlet.
So no, my 1,000th song won’t be my last. It will just be my 1,000th. The next day will be my 1,001st.
Once that was determined, I had to decide what sort of songs to feature this week. Should I post songs with “thousand” in the title (conveniently, I have five of them in my iTunes library)? Should I mirror the artists featured in week one? Should I go the Glee route and write and record my own songs?
Ultimately I decided not to do anything special. This week I’m featuring five excellent songs, period. No unifying theme, no quest for deeper meaning. Just five songs. That’s what the blog’s about, isn’t it?
First up is ‘The Model,’ from Belle & Sebastian’s 2000 album Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant. That’s one of their weaker albums overall, but this is the best thing on it, and one of my favorites of theirs.
Because you made me think about the times
You turn the picture on to me and I’ll turn over
The vision was a masterpiece of comic timing
But you wouldn’t laugh at all
And I wonder what the boy was thinking
The picture was an old collage of something classical
The model with a tragic air
Because without a doubt he’d given up the fight
The ghost of somebody at his side
I will confess to you
Because I didn’t think about the message
As I walked down the alleyway it was a Sunday
And all my friends deserted me because you painted me
As the fraud I really was
And if you think you see with just your eyes you’re mad
‘Cause Lisa learned a lot from putting on a blindfold
When she knew she had been bad
She met another blind kid at a fancy dress
It was the best sex she ever had
I’ll send a dress to you
Because it’s needing badly taken in
But I was so embarressed when I missed your party
It was me that paid for it eventually
Because you know how much I wanted
To meet your friend the star of stage and local press
The dream of all the bowlie boys that hang around here
And I’m no different from the rest
I’m not too proud to say that I’m okay with
The girl next door who’s famous for showing her breasts
You’re not impressed by me
But it’s a funny way for you to tell me
A whisper in a choir stall
The man was talking about you simultaneously
Frankly, I let my heavy eyelids flutter
Because I have been sleeping badly lately
I know you were historical from all the books I’ve read
But I thought you could be bluffing
And with this chance I’ve missed I feel remiss
It’s days and months before I see you again