so, i caved this year and got myself a twitter account. i felt like i was dragged kicking and screaming to it, in a way, after maligning it to the husband and others for at least a good year. “what’s the point?” i’d wonder. “so few words” – which, of course, is hard for a compulsive babbler like myself. and yet, here i am, with a twitter account, and you know what? i tweet and even enjoy it. it’s like an addictive outlet to just spew any non-sequitur that pops into my mind. and friends, i have a lot of those.
one thing that bugs me, though, is the concept of auto-following, which i think i’ve ranted about on here before. for you peeps who don’t tweet (just you wait, guys, just. you. wait.), it’s basically the concept of following someone solely to get them to follow you. and if that person DOESN’T follow you, you unfollow them. it’s sort of like an internet way of saying, “i really don’t give a rat’s ass about who you are or what you have to say, or anything at all about you, but i do care about that little number you can give me up on the sidebar.” which is…i dunno, bizarre and…perhaps a bit insecure? i just don’t get it. i honestly don’t ever follow anyone for the sole purpose of getting them to follow me. i follow people, in general, because i either: a) want to read what they have to say, b) want to support their music and want to hear news about their releases, or c) want to support fellow authors and want to hear news about their releases. seems simple to me, really.
ANYWAY (you all knew i was prone to babbling, so you can’t really be surprised that it’s taken me so long to get to the point here) – to make a long story a wee bit shorter, i stumbled across an intriguing band due to what i’m assuming is the wretched concept of auto-following. meaning – they followed me for less than 24 hours and then unfollowed me when i didn’t immediately jump on the bandwagon. which is…a bit amusing, honestly, because i actually DO find their music quite lovely and am happy to share it here today with you all (presuming, of course, you’ve made it this far in the diatribe).
the glue ensemble is, in this opinion, steampunkish in that it combines mozart-esque (or, rather, bach-ish ones, ala jesu joy of man’s desire) strings, a jane austen/regency england atmosphere, and smiths-like lyrics. the band describes themselves as thus: Alternative Acoustic music from London and Paris. Heartbreakingly beautiful but still civilised, like teatime at a funeral.
to say they are different than a lot of the bands out there today is to put it mildly. and that’s part of what makes them utterly delightful to listen to. expect swoon-worthy strings (bass, viola, violin and cello), heartfelt lyrics and melodies that can’t help but charm. and that’s really the thing about the glue ensemble’s music – it’s so frigging charming.
and the most charming song of all has to be writing my name (on the back of your hand). it starts off sounding like a string quartet performance and only builds on its artistic beauty from there. i simply adore it. fellow jane austen-ites, can’t you see captain wentworth digging this one in some steampunk version? so pull out your favorite black tea (pox on all of you green tea lovers, i just can’t wrap my mind around you at all) and kick back to this gorgeous song:
you walk in the room and everything stops –
the silence carves grooves that ache for the needle to drop
and over the shame we can’t bear to name.
oh, you are the shoes I can’t fill but the same
you pinch my feet inch by inch by inch
by inch by inch by inch by inch
so why do you think it’s changed?
why do you think it’s changed?
when those moments of clarity run like mascara in rain
why do you think it’s changed?
you walk in the room and the music goes on.
is there someone you recognise written into this song, this song, this song, this song?
because almost as planned you’re too drunk to stand.
you know this place like the back of my hand,
but you stumble and fall
because you know nothing at all.
so why do you think… etc
oh the window was wide
and the night slipped inside
to lie cold by your side
like the words you denied,
like the number you regret
but cannot forget.
there’s stains on your arms
and marks on your palms –
to write love on your wrist
how could i resist?
the engine is running, the radio is on
is there someone you know, written in this song?
because i’m writing my name on the back of your hand
you look at me but you don’t understand.
i’m writing my name on the back of your hand
you look at me – but you don’t understand.
i’m writing my name on the back of your hand
you look at me – but you don’t understand?
I’M WRITING MY NAME ON THE BACK OF YOUR HAND
YOU LOOK AT ME – BUT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!
so why do you think it’s changed?
why do you think it’s changed?
why do you think we’ve changed
when those moments of clarity run like mascara in rain…
you walk in the room and everything stops.
buy teatime at a funeral, the EP writing my name (on the back of your hand) is off of, HERE. it’s only 99 pence. honestly, peeps. less than a pound for the entire EP. it’s practically a steal!