And speaking as we were the other day of
Fountains of Wayne's "Someone to Love" and what a great fucking poem its lyrics are...
Ladies and germs, from 1967, please enjoy The Kinks "Autumn Almanac." A song and band I suspect was a serious influence on FOW's Adam Schlesinger.
From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar.
When the dawn begins to crack...
It's all part of my autumn almanac.
Breeze blows leaves of a musty-coloured yellow.
So I sweep them in my sack...
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac.
Friday evenings, people get together.
Hiding from the weather.
Tea and toasted buttered currant buns
Can't compensate for lack of sun,
Because the summer's all gone.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la...
Oh, my poor rheumatic back
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac.
...
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac.
I like my football on a Saturday.
Roast beef on Sundays, all right.
I go to Blackpool for my holidays,
Sit in the open sunlight.
This is my street, and I'm never gonna to leave it,
And I'm always gonna stay here
If I live to be ninety nine
'Cause all the people I meet
Seem to come from my street
And I can't get away,
Because it's calling me (come on home)
Hear it calling me (come on home)...
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la...
Oh, my autumn Armagnac.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes...it's my autumn almanac.
That's as gorgeous an evocation of somebody's real life as has ever been set to music. Just brilliant.
I should add that the "Autumn ARMANGAC" thing at the end may be me mis-Hearing it. Okay. So sue me.
I should also add that when they gave Bob Dylan the Nobel for literature, I cheered. But Ray deserves it too.