A love letter to the lyrics of Let’s Make This Precious by Dexys Midnight Runners
- of high price or great value
- highly esteemed for some non-material or moral quality
- dear; beloved
- affectedly or excessively delicate
Let’s make this precious
Precious. So many meanings. All of them so very Dexys.
But first — precious. What a word. Precious. When was the last time you said it out loud?
I recommend it. It’s so very satisfying. Try it now. Go on, really. And do it properly — none of that Golem bollocks. Don’t try to be…
A love letter to the lyrics of Scott Walker 1968–70
“but there is a particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of people.”
We’re lonely not because of the absence of other people, Laing claims, but the absence of connection. “An inability, for one reason or another, to find as much intimacy as is desired.” An inability, of course, that’s most palpable in a crowd.
A love letter (in the form of a creative brief) to the lyrics of Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode
THIS IS OUR AGENCY’S CREATIVE BRIEF TEMPLATE.
PLEASE USE IT WHEN BRIEFING A CREATIVE TEAM ON A PROJECT. PLEASE FILL IN ALL SECTIONS.
AT THIS AGENCY WE PRIZE NEW IDEAS. THIS DOCUMENT IS THE BEST CHANCE WE HAVE OF MAKING THEM.
SO BE THOROUGH. BE SUCCINCT. BE BOLD.
WE INVITE YOU TO THINK THE UNTHINKABLE.
WHO IS THIS BRIEF FOR? (Please use information for our records) CLIENT: INTEGRATED EVANGELISTS OF AMERICA PROJECT NAME: Operation Direct Access (code name from the client)…
A love letter to the lyrics of Can’t Get You Out Of My Head by Kylie Minogue
Had you forgotten how good it is?
If so, watch this again. It won’t take long to remember.
Of course, the important bit, the bit we remember, is the bit without words. It’s the bit we sing along to. The bit where we lose ourselves.
La la la
La la la-la la
What else is there, really?
So much. So much.
But let’s not go there yet. Let’s stay here for a moment, in this place, la la la, the place we…
A love letter to the lyrics of Sound And Vision by David Bowie
Don’t you wonder sometimes
About sound and vision?
Just an idle question really. A leading one as well. But leading where? Because, well, yes David, yes I do — but what are you getting at, exactly? It’s a very big topic. Let’s narrow it down. Down from sound and vision to the song called Sound And Vision. I wonder about that sometimes, too.
Blue, blue, electric blue
That’s the colour of my room
Where I will live.
77 words in Sound And Vision and seven…
A love letter to the lyrics of In My Room by the Beach Boys
It’s soul music, really. Direct from its maker’s soul to yours. So delicate, strong, hopeful. Like so many Beach Boys songs the feeling gets you before you can explain it. It’s one of the most beautiful things I know.
It’s a song by an almost childlike man about a very grown-up idea: that admitting pain is the first step to healing it. That pain happens and it’s normal. The words themselves are guileless, there are few rhymes, no metaphor, no irony or subtext, no plea…
A love letter to the lyrics of Controversy by Prince
It sounds stilted at first, which is strange, considering. Stiff, staccato. Overly controlled. It’s all rhythm. Prince’s words one — at — a — time — on the beat.
It’s like those tweets, driving a point home. Hand clap emojis separating each word, the space between each so it’s made clear — slow — and — sure — for us all.
In the song it goes like this.
And here is Prince, and…
A love letter to the lyrics of Clash City Rockers by The Clash
London is alive. London is dying.
London teems with latent energy. It is run-down and on its knees.
London’s essence is its contradictions. Walk its streets on a summer evening you hear noise, movement. Anything seems possible. The city is a playground, its citizens best described as ‘noisome’, a word I learned in Peter Ackroyd’s ‘biography’ of the capital. Ackroyd tells his story thematically, not chronologically (London’s identity transcends time); at any point you’ll find people working, consuming, living performatively. But you’ll also see poverty, hopelessness, people…
A love letter to the lyrics of Babooshka by Kate Bush
She wanted to test her husband.
She knew exactly what to do —
A pseudonym to fool him.
She couldn’t have made a worse move.
Writers are taught not to judge their characters. To write characters well you need to understand them, see the world as they do. It’s so we, the readers or viewers, care. We’re wary of ciphers in fiction. We only believe well-rounded people, because we know that people are complicated.
But is that really true? I mean, we all know that we are complicated. We…
A love letter to the lyrics of Flytipping by Suede
A railway runs past the end of my road. If you jump on the train and head north, behind the back of the city’s houses and over viaducts, past the Avon Gorge, through tunnels and under the motorway, you end up way past the outskirts of Bristol at a place called Severn Beach.
Severn Beach’s days as a seaside resort are long gone. The boating lake was filled in years ago. The train station is just a platform now, unstaffed, as if one day the visitors just stopped coming. People…
One half of A Longing Look, a music publication on Medium. Writer, consultant, strategist, facilitator.