Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Такая песня-считалочка, слегка жутковатая, но абсолютно прекрасная.
Многообещающее начало музыкального года.



Безумно хочу посмотреть на текст.

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

'Man, it used to eat me up even when things were going OK, because even when things were going OK, I wasn't on stage or recording like every minute of the day, and sometimes it felt like I needed to be, otherwise I'd explode, you know? So now, now there's nowhere for it to go.
We used to have this song... 'I have no idea why I started up on this...' We used to have this song, this little like Motowny thing called "I Got Your Back", which me and Eddie wrote together, really together, which we didn't usually do, and it was like, you know, a tribute to our friendship and how far back we went and blah blah. Anyhow, it was on our first album and it was like two minutes and thirty seconds long and no one really noticed it, I mean, people who actually bought the album didn't even notice it. But we started playing it live, and it kind of got longer, and Eddie worked out this sweet solo. It wasn't like a rock guitar solo; it was more like something maybe, I don't know, Curtis Mayfield or Ernie Isley might have played. And sometimes, when we played around Chicago and we'd jam with friends on stage, we'd have maybe a sax solo or a piano solo or maybe even like a pedal steel or something, and after like a year or two it got to be this like ten-, twelve-minute showstopper. And we'd open with it or close with it or stick it in the middle somewhere if we were playing a long set, and to me it became the sound of pure fucking joy, sorry Maureen, you know? Pure joy. It felt like surfing, or, or whatever, a natural high. You could ride those chords like waves. I had that feeling maybe a hundred times a year, and not many people get it even once in their lives. And that's what I had to give up, man, the ability to create that routinely, whenever I felt like it, as part of my working day, and... You know, now that I think about it, I can see why I made up that bullshit, sorry Maureen, about dying of some fucking disease, sorry again. Because that's what it feels like. I'm dying of some disease that dries up all the blood in your veins and all your sap and, and everything that makes you feel alive, and...'

'Yeah, and?' said Martin. 'You seem to have omitted the part about why you want to kill yourself. '

'That's it, ' I said. 'This disease that dries up all the blood in your veins. '

Никто не пишет о музыке так, как Ник Хорнби.