Clock on the wall turned sideways / Time out of touch, I'm out of faith / I got this feeling I can’t reverse / I’m only making things worse, my love / You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone / How could I be so, could I be so magnificently wrong? / Magnificently wrong, so here comes the night / Here comes the night now here it comes / Making everything beautiful / Making everything beautiful / you say my love, you say my love / you’re going to miss me when I’m gone / Night comes and I'm born again / You're not the only one / magnificently wrong / Time out of touch / I got this feeling I can’t reverse / I’m only making things worse, my love / You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone / How could I be so, could I be so magnificently wrong? / so here comes the night, here comes the night / Here comes the night now here it comes / Making everything beautiful / Making everything beautiful / you say my love, you say my love / you’re going to miss me when I’m gone / How could I be so, could I be so magnificently wrong? / How could I be so, could I be so magnificently wrong? / Magnificently wrong, so here comes the night / Here comes the night, here comes the night / Here comes the night, here comes the night / All out of lust, / we’ll be alright / Here comes the night, here comes the night.

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Stephane Commecy. Bass & electric guitar Stephane Poterlot.

SONG STORY
With maybe a touch of Sharlene Spiteri (Texas) vocals, a smattering of Allman brothers, and Latino REM vibe, the only way I can describe what i was trying to get to with this bittersweet song  is 70s folk/club anthem. For better or for worse, I spent many nights in my younger hedonistic years soaking up the glorious Parisian night life scene in the 90’s (if you were young and care-free and found yourself back then in the city of lights I’m sure you might have done exactly the same thing). The unsettling contradiction of this experience was, despite the intoxicating thrill of tribal togetherness in pursuit of unbridled self-expression, you always know in your heart that this is all just on the surface, and that the way of life is not sustainable. Those times of dispassionate solitude within, when you can find yourself surfing this intense wave of elation and asphyxiation of the soul at the same time; the world around you disappears, cut adrift from sober reality, you find yourself momentarily separated from your environment. Your body and mind feel anaesthetised, suspended in space, like a vacuum of still air caught in the eye of a devastating and destructive cyclone. So this is a song about the contradictions of (night)life, the mass of people around you but with nothing inside to hold onto, where all you can do is let yourself go and be cut drift in a wild churning sea of humanity. The song ended up much longer than I had anticipated when I wrote it, so it could never really be considered a single. But every time I tried to edit it down (simplifying  and shortening a song structure nearly always makes it better…) I felt the song lost something vital. The stand-out track - and the reason for this extra length -  is Stephane Comedy’s driving, solid drumming: he just kept the intense energy up, particularly at the end of the song during the fadeout, so the rest of us just followed along ’til we all ran out of steam… Pure 70s self-indulgence, but I remember it was a nice recording moment for me when we all looked at each other like we’d nailed something, so out of pure nostalgia and respect for the creative process I’ve left the song at its initial length.

Magnificent

Contagious

In the riddling arms of daylight / Kicking through the leaves I’m on the other side now / I’m at my wit’s end but it’s all right / Tell me something stupid I don’t care / There’s this thing about you, you’re always hooting like a clown / Contagious, your laughter is the only thing I hear / I just thought that you should know / That it’s like the rain / 'Cause it’s like the rain, cascading tumbling / Man it’s the only thing stuck in my head these days / When you laugh, it’s like a waterfall / Can’t hear nothing at all, everything else just fades / Contagious,  I just thought that you should know / Footsteps echo in my head I’m on a one-way path / There’s no hope of intervention there’s no cure / There’s this thing about you, it’s like a voodoo when you laugh / Contagious, don’t think I can take it anymore / I just thought that you should know / yeah it’s like the rain, cascading tumbling / Man it’s the only thing stuck in my head these days / When you laugh, it’s like a waterfall / Can’t hear nothing at all, everything else just fades /  It’s like a music in me calling every time I feel your presence dear / Cause when that sweet rain starts falling everything just disappears, yeah when you laugh / It’s like the rain, cascading tumbling / Man it’s the only thing stuck in my head these days / Everything else just fades, stuck in my head these days  

Lyrics, vocals and music by A.George Sinclair Produced, arranged by A.George Sinclair.  Bass, classic & electric guitar: Stéphane Poterlot Drums: Stéphane Commecy Violin: Joe Cady

SONG STORY
One of the albums in the 90s that marked my arrival in France was the sublime “Woodface“ by Crowded House. The band were a huge influence on me, and  I've lost count of the amount of times I've played the Weather With You in gigs - the song is always greeted with such gusto by Anglo-Saxon audiences. I was fascinated with how Neil Finn’s voice and melodies manage to be melancholic, soulful and heartwarming all at the same time. I particularly liked how he used a C major lift in the chorus from an E minor verse in Four Seasons in One day. I must admit I stole the idea for this song a little, shifting from the minor bass riff in the same way for the chorus. The classic guitar solo at the end by Stéphane Poterlot was a moment of pure natural inspiration - he just blasted it out because he wanted to get the idea of a solo down on the demo. It is such a wonderful piece of spontaneous perfection, it was never redone, and I kept it in the song as is.  

DEDICATION
Bassists can often have either groove or melody. It's rare - like Paul McCartney -  to have both at the same time . Stephane Poterlot is also one of these bassists. There is this natural melodic drive when he plays, knowing instinctively when to stay on the kick and when not to, when to leave the line simple or to take the initiative. He taught me how to use melodic lifts and alternate grooves to shift the mood and intensity between different movements in a song that have the same fundamental chord structure. He kind of showed me they way out of the flat dimensions of my own music and wake up a song with memorable counter-melodies. He has played base, classic guitar and electric guitar on about half the songs here, sometimes both left and right-handed, so I’ve had plenty of time to watch him un action and grasp a little of his playing techniques, his love of the bass as an instrument of both of melody as well as groove, and I think the baseline in this song is a wonderful example of his talents.

Contagious

SONG STORY
These lyrics so slavishly follow the sense of the book as I understood it that this song to me barely needs any explanation. I was sat in tumbledown cottage in Normandie France in 2002 when I started writing it - I was a new father with my young daughter sleeping upstairs, an experience which profoundly affected my world-view enough that revisiting the book To Kill a Mockingbird many years after I first read it l realised I saw it in a completely new light, like a novel take on classic novel … I’m not sure if I was trying to write a James Taylor folk song about the importance of family, or a Paul Simon ‘America’ song about acceptance in the face of male pride and bigotry that is such a central theme to the book. But it still seems to provoke a strong reaction with people who hear it, so I’ve sung it a lot. The island in the song is the Ile Saint Louis, the magnificent medieval island in the centre of Paris where we camped out as a family for nearly ten years when the children were young. It was a small apartment, but the moments and experiences we had there were beyond measure :  a life of bustle, noise and happiness that went by so quickly it makes my head spin to think about it. Incidentally I don’t think Harper Lee would ever have considered her book a political one in any sense of the word, but I believe passionately now that this song that came out of me reading it is about the need for effective gun laws as much as anything else, and will dedicate it to the first American senator, governor or state representative that finally has the courage to take a stand and do something about it.   

SONG LYRICS
So the first time I, the first time that I read it, well I must’ve been ten / And I don’t know why, I didn’t see Atticus, I only saw Jem & Scout / Hello Maycombe, wake up Boo! The death of a mockingbird what can you? / Tell me what can you do? / So the days roll by, now I’m twenty years older than I was back then / And the book’s changed I, I find that I’m Atticus, I’m no longer Jem / That it’s a story about patience and family pride, faith hope and charity  / And the fact that you tried, that you’re willing to try / The kids getting older, the hand on my shoulder  / The truth standing ten feet tall / that if you can’t walk in another man’s shoes / You’re no kind of man at all (that’s what he said) / So put down your guns and go lightly, it’s a sin now or haven’t y’all heard? / The two sides, the good book of Atticus, you don’t kill that mockingbird  / No way, you can’t kill that mockingbird / No you don’t lose your head, you don’t lose heart  / You don’t go walking in the woods after dark  / Angel-bright, light in death, get off the road don’t suck my breath / Angel-bright, light in death, get off the road, get off the road Scout / You know there’ll always be Boo Scout, there’ll always be you / There’ll always be you / So the ship sails on, here on the island the summer-time gone / And I’m down by the riverbank talking to me / Shadow man,shadow man, what will I be? tell me what will I be? / The days getting colder, the hand on my shoulder  / The truth standing ten feet tall: if you can’t walk in another man’s shoes / You’re no kind of man at all (that’s what he said) / So put down your guns and go lightly, it’s a sin now or haven’t y’all heard? / The two sides, the good book of Atticus, you don’t kill that mockingbird  / No way, you can’t kill that mockingbird /No you don’t kill that mockingbird  / No you can’t kill that mockingbird


Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums: Fabien Haimovici , Banjo Yean-Yves Lozach, Guitar ambiance Alain Bastard

Mockingbird

Counting the hours

It’s a glorious springtime suddenly then, baby close your eyes and count to ten / You’re getting caught in the showers, waking up in the rain  / Little by little, day by day, it seems like years since you been away / I’ve been missing you, I’ve been counting the hours / I’ve been climbing the walls, I’ve been drinking the times, I miss you sometimes / Caught in the showers, loving it when, counting the hours, baby ‘til then  / I’ve been counting the hours, little by little, day by day / It seems like years since you been away / I’ve been missing you, I’ve been counting the hours / So baby close your eyes count to ten, sunday morning you’ll find me / Well it seems like a lifetime since you been here, it’s been so long / Just 24 hours, but it feels like years / Everything broken I can’t sleep everything changed, everything wrong / I’ve been counting the hours ‘til I see you again / I’ve been climbing the walls, I’ve been drinking the times, I miss you sometimes / So get along, get around, what’ll it be? ‘cos I find myself drinking the times  / It could’ve been you, but it was probably me, well I miss you, I miss you sometimes /Caught in the showers, loving it when…

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Piano : Jean-Max Mery. Electric guitar: Alain Bastard  & Keveen Baudouin. Drums: Fabien Haimovici. Bass Emah Emah Otu

SONG STORY 
The title for this song came first, as the phrase ‘counting the hours’ just sounded like it was a good song. I didn’t have any lyrics or melody to go with it though for years. It stayed like that for a decade or so, as every now and then I tried different stylistic takes on the same idea.  It finally found its place as a rhythm and blues ‘70’s ballad. Heavily inspired by the Commodor’s “Easy like sunday morning“. it’s just a love song about missing someone. Rimbaud it ain’t, the melody is doing most of the work,. It’s just a feel-good song with light lyrical padding around sentimental chorus, but ‘m happy I managed to find the song I was looking for to go with the title.

DEDICATION 
Fabien Haimovici is  without doubt for me one of the finest drummers in France I have had the chance to play with. He has the rare quality of hearing a song both rhythmically and melodically. Playing with him for the first time in Pajaro Canzani’s Angel studio in Paris,  was the first time I realised that a gifted drummer will find a way to both compliment a song, and impose a rhythmic clarity that drives the music forward, whilst leaving space for other musicians to play their part. His natural rhythmic force made me  realise it was up to me as the singer carrying the song and  impose my presence on the rhythm section, not the other way round. Even a soft ballad played by a good drummer will groove hard, so you’ve got to be precise and nail how you sing on top, even if it’s a whisper - a sharp learning curve that improved my power of performance and song-writing no end.

CountingTheHours

SONG STORY
This is one of a bunch of protest songs I seem to have written in the last few years. Inspired by the Aldous Huxley book of the same title, I was going for a Marleyish ‘80’s Stranglers / Peter Gabriel rock-reggae... I’ve tried to give the song hope, so  the dystopian nightmare might be coming true, but only if we don’t care - it’ll only happen if we don’t do something about the world now before it’s too late. The inhuman, insufferable world Huxley imagined is not with us yet, it’s not a forgone conclusion. I choose to believe it’s still unavoidable. It’s galling to se see how as the years go by, but the same democratic ideas we hold so dear always seem to be endlessly under threat,  the same struggles needing to be fought. What kind of world are we leaving for our children if we do not hold those who govern us to account? It seems like every generation has to end up asking this question some time or other. I wish it was otherwise, in the meantime I turn the frustration into music that I hope can soothe the soul and pass the message.

DEDICATION
The ambiant sound on this song is the result of the participation of the remarkable Philippe Dalecky is a formidable French singer/producer whose musical philosophy was developed by hanging and playing as a freelance electric guitarist in California duriing the ‘70’s. In the spirit of artists such as JJ Cale or Al Green, the essence of Philippe’s power lies in understatement. As the old Roosevelt saying goes: speak softly, but carry a big stick… He plays upon the profound quiet and intimacy that can be found in music, to devastating effect. - he’s always telling me to simplify my mixes, and bring them down to their raw emotional simplicity. Because of him I will never be sure of a vocal take until I have listened to it acapella, with no backing music. If the voice doesn’t stand up on its own, no amount of music on top  is going to make the song any better.. 

SONG LYRICS
Man is a coat of many colours / Love is the needle and the thread / How quickly we forget all our history / While we’re sleeping in our bed / So many people in migration / All of these refugees of war / I fear for all these gods with their disinformation / That the writing's on the wall / Cause I'd hate to be the one to break it to you / Yesterday here tomorrow gone / Yeah it's coming true, it's coming true / The brave new world, the brave new world is coming true / The brave new world, the brave new world is coming true / if we don't care / Deep are the pockets of our prosperity / Red is the blood black is the oil / Since the dawn of civilisation we all reap what we sow / Before we go back to the soil / Cause I'd hate to be the one to break it to you / Yesterday here tomorrow gone / Yeah it's coming true, it's coming true / The brave new world, the brave new world is coming true / The brave new world, the brave new world is coming true / It’s my life, not my family / It’s my faith not my priority, / It’s my right not my destiny / It’s my life not my destiny  

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except:  Electric guitar and groove sampling: Philippe Dalecky. Bass: Stephane Poterlot. Drums: Stephane Commecy.

Brave New World

Dragon Moon

Sweet November it’s the year of the cat / It’s a gold opportunity how ‘bout that? / All the seasons in my life changing / There’s no way out there’s no way in / I was thinking about leaving but I changed my mind / I got my money in my pocket my train’s on time / I’m on way I’ll be back soon / I’ll get organised I’ll be back soon / Beneath the dragon moon / Dragon moon glow, china blue / It’s a dizzy spell, yeah and so are you / China moon glow, dragon dreams / It’s a dizzy spell, or so it seems / Dragon moon gets me every time / You can’t fight the feeling

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair. Classic guitar, string arrangement Stephane Poterlot. Flute Xavier Sibre

SONG STORY
There were two very distinct lives to this Sheryl Crowe / Steeler's Wheel song.  It started with the train shuffle chord riff - but with a completely different title which I ended up stealing to put in another song. So I had to find another story to hang the music on. Despite the upbeat,  breezy Crosby Stills and Nash ‘Marakesh’ sound I was trying to get to, this second version makes slightly darker journey at the beginning, with the return back to life from a long period of stress and depression, the simple choice we always have either to stay or leave from wherever we are. I’ve never seen the dragon moon, but it if you are lost and have no idea where you even are anymore, it sounded like a nice place to be. The massive highlight for me is Xavier Sibre’s beautiful flute solo. Just before we played through a first (he thought unrecorded) take, so he could get his bearings on the song structure, I asked him if he knew Gil Scott Heron’s ‘the bottle’? I could see the lights turn on, he said of course, and then proceeded to nail the whole track in one go, with no changes or edits. It’s amazing what great musicians will come up with if they don’ know they’re being being recorded.

DragonMoon

SONG STORY
So being a child of my time, I was going for 70s Rod Stewart / 90s Counting Crows upbeat acoustic number, with a little Lou Reed ‘Waiting for my man’ kitchen sink nostalgia in the lyrics. The narrative in this song was based on a domestic moment that happened to me when I was living in the rue Ferdinand in the Marais in Paris: one night returning home late from a party I noticed in a second floor window across the street a young woman about my age, who was ostensibly having herself a one-girl, one-song party. She was too far away from me to be able to discern any of her features beyond the basic characteristics: I can remember that she was slim, blonde, and wore a ponytail.. all facile clichés I know, but there she was anyway. By her demeanour she looked and danced just like the classic all-American girl in some MTV music video. Whichever band she was listening to, it must have been one of her favourites, because she was hopping around the room, going pretty crazy;  I saw her put on a track, then she swirled and whooped around the apartment like it was Saturday night at the Copa Cabana. Her solo performance sadly only lasted one song - she turned off the lights and left the quickly the room for somewhere else, never to return. It wasn’t a love at first sight moment exactly, just one of those remarkable and rare moments that happen every now and again where the simple joy of humanity can viewed just for a second all its majestic glory, this girl and her unknowable life now condensed perfectly for me into a pop song. So the song wrote itself : like a snap-shot for me suddenly brought into focus, I found myself not fixated with the girl but seduced by the idea of the man who falls in love from afar, the Hopperesque diner’s window through which we see the other.! So I had to give her a fictional name of course, which turned out to be JudyAnne. I can’t recall or the life of me why. Despite the fact that the French singer Charles Bourdon and I sing this song together as a duo, the stand out track for me isn’t his formidable baritone voice but his blistering guitar solo at the end, which I think is one of his finest moments. I have to say, there's a great band playing here on this track!  

#13 SONG LYRICS
She’s reaching for a cigarette, Judy in the opposite window / She’s keeping the lights on, dancing to her favorite song / From over here across the street I can tell that you’re lonely, that you’re lonely like me / Why don’t you come over? don’t be taking too long / You don’t even know me, but I can tell who you are / I feel you here dancing here next to me, but we’re still so far apart / I’ve been watching you Judy Anne, I’ve been watching you dancing in the light / Why don’t you come over? Let’s go dancing tonight / What you doing over there all alone like that? Hallelujah duchess here I am / Make the call now and you can, Judy Anne / I’ve been around the world, I’ve walked on every dirty street corner / I’ve seen the heavens collide, the yellow moon laugh in the sky / Judy we could be there if you’d just make a sign, if you’d just pick up that phone / We could rattle the stars ‘til they fall like a rain on high / You don’t even know me, but I can tell who you are / I feel you here dancing here next to me, but we’re still so far apart/ We could be lovers, not strangers together, / We could be dolphins swimming wild in the sea / I don’t know you’re number, don’t know your name / So I’ll just call you Judy Anne / I’ll make a sign with my number, Judy come over / Make the call now if you can

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except : Solo Guitar and vocal Charles Bourdon. Keyboards : Jean-Max Mery. Electric guitar: Kevin Baudouin & Alain Bastard. Drums: Fabien Haimovici.

JudyAnne

Englishman In New York by Sting

This great song by Sting is one of a series of cover songs that I often play live, so I thought I would put out my own recording

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXtoSptBMqs

Englishman In New York

This great song by REM is one of a series of cover songs that I often play live, so I thought I would put out my own recorded version

Losing My Religion

This great song by Cat Stevens is one of a series of cover songs that I often play live, so I thought I would put out my own recorded version

Wild World

This great song by The Verve is one of a series of cover songs that I often play live, so I thought I would put out my own recorded version;

Bitter Sweet Symphony

This wonderful song by the Beatles is one of a series of cover songs that I often play live, so I thought I would put out my own recorded version

Norwegian Wood

This great song by Crowded House is one of a series of cover songs that I often play live, so I thought I would put out my own recorded version

Four Seasons in One Day

In honour and memory of my brother this song is my symbolic riposte to Knocking on Heaven’s Door. Dylan’s song is a soulful lament of a man who has abandoned hope, and given up all need of life - whereas my elder brother Buzz fought with everything he had to make a life for himself every waking moment he was given..
Gordon “Buzz” Sinclair was a man of deep faith, contrary to my own life experience where the little religion I had in me had all but evaporated by my late thirties; I admit though that this loss of faith on my part left a deep enough hole of secular existential angst in me that I’ve spent the rest of my life since filling up my songs with a plethora of religious words and imagery to fill in the void. My brother was born with not just one but two fatal heart-conditions, either of which individually would have guaranteed him being still-born. But ironically – and amazingly – the combination of these two fatal conditions working together were the very reason he survived. At the time of his birth he was the only case in Europe. Our mum was told by heart doctors that he would probably live no longer than a few years, and would be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life even if he survived any longer… Despite these Titanesque human challenges, through sheer perseverance and stubborn self-determination Buzz managed to pull himself out of his wheelchair and overcome many of his profound physical inabilities. He went on to lead a fulfilling and successful adult life well into his late forties, learning to walk on his own, drive a car, study at college, developing a career as an architect and travelling the world like anyone else. His courage in facing and surmounting his condition was an enormous inspiration to me, and in many ways it shaped how I lived my own life. Having a brother with a serious heart condition helped forge in me the conviction that if we are lucky enough to have our physical strength, it’s 90% of the job of life done already. If the body is willing, the rest is just willpower… If we are lucky enough to be healthy, we are capable of achieving pretty well anything we put our minds to. It felt like having a healthy mid-life crisis when I was ten years old: all pre-conceived ideas about life already turned on their head before I’d even become a man. The material questions such as money, house, car and social status have always just paled to insignificance. I’ve spent of my time wondering what the hell most people are worrying about, and remain to this day convinced that I’m much better off for it.

Heaven can wait

Got this Bhudda in my bookcase wears a pine-cone hat / Contemplating nothing but he’s happy like that / So do yourself a favour, while you’re waiting for the hammer to fall / Heaven might be knocking yeah but heaven can wait / The sun's shining it’s a beautiful day, I got stuff down here / Don’t want you knocking on my door / And by the look in your eyes, I know that you’ve been waiting a long long time / Time it takes to realise you got heaven knocking at your door / When nobody calls, heaven can wait / The waiting is all, heaven can wait / You got you’re heart wide open, but I know that you’ll find / Jesus there waiting at the end of the line / You know I’d like to believe it, I wish that I could that sure / Heaven might be knocking yeah but heaven can wait / The sun's shining it’s a beautiful day, I got stuff down here / Don’t want you knocking on my door / (CHORUS 2) / You used to tell me that I was all at sea / A soul survivor pulling stars down from the heavens / Still waiting to fall, heaven can wait / the waiting is all, heaven can wait / I’ll see you there, I’ll see you there brother.

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Sebastien de Laleu. Piano Jean-Max Mery.

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Heaven Can Wait

Despite the futuristic armageddon going on here, this tune is mostly just a tongue-in-cheek love song. I was dating a delightfully eccentric woman in 2012 who was completely convinced that the Mayan prophecies about that year were true, and the world was going to end in a biblical deluge caused by the inversion of the poles. She declared over a steak au poivre her intention to flee Paris, and live in the French Alps to escape the rising tides, informing me that all she will be needing to complete her post-apocalyptic life was a herd of sheep and her laptop. By that point I was pretty sure she was joking, and suggested she might try contacting her service-provider to make sure the internet would be still working after the impending deluge. I promised of course that I’d come join her at the slightest sign of terrestrial destablisation. By the time 2013 hit it seemed like a moot point to be singing about the end of the world the year before, so I changed the date to ten thousand twelve instead. It’s not for me judge my work for its qualities, but I can still at least have  personal favorites. I think is one for me because of the universality of its message. There’s something about the nature of the melody that doesn’t fit into any particular obvious genre, so I’ve never been able to decide whether it’s folk, bluegrass, rock, reggae or club disco. In my head I even hear a Chinese folklore version! This universal quality has turned out to be both a blessing and a curse, because even though it seems to go down well when I play it live, it’s easily the song I’ve had the most trouble recording. I’m never sure exactly what kind of instrumental music I should put behind it. Over the years I have tried recording hundreds of different versions in different keys, at different speeds, trying to get to a version I’m happy with. This is my 'club mix' version of the original song that is also on this site.


SONG LYRICS
I’ll tell you like she told it, believe it if you will / That the end of the world is nigh / That in the year ten thousand twelve the poles turn upside-down  / And bring the deluge of all mankind / That the apocalypse is now, so I laughed and paid the bill  / told her that we shouldn’t wait / And as the city swirled around us, we danced upon the bridge / And cursed that single twist of fate / So tell me Poppy, what’s the code now, what’s the key? / The daylight over, the deluge coming, oh wait for me / I’ll see you there high on the mountain / Beyond the sea, what do you see ? / Oh tell me darling, that you’ll wait, wait for me / Wait for me, wait for me / High on the mountain, high on the mountain high / Wait for me, wait for me / So the winter garden grows, but the word from Saint Malo / Is that the fire in your heart is out / That I belong to you, and you belong to me / Beyond any shadow of doubt / So I’ll see you at the station with a camera in your hand / trembling with a butterfly net / And as the waters slowly rise, you’ll fix me with those eyes / As the valley below gets wet / So tell me Poppy, what’s the code now, what’s the key? / The daylight over, the deluge coming, oh wait for me / I’ll see you there high on the mountain / Beyond the sea, what do you see ? / Oh tell me darling, that you’ll wait, wait for me / Wait for me, wait for me / Wait for me, wait for me / High on the mountain, high on the mountain high / Wait for me, wait for me

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Backing vocals Céline Radio. Violin Joe Cady. Acoustic guitar Stéphane Poterlot. Drums Stéphane Commecy

Wait For Me REMIX

Fool’s gold
I'm like a king without a crown / Lord that shows no mercy / I guess I’ll turn my life around / Make a doubt into a certainty / Wound up I’m super-charged yeah / Everything hypnotised in its glow / It’s like a ball and chains, nothing’s changed / All we’re digging out is fool’s gold / Rising, rising, phoenix blood burning in my veins / Rising rising, dead ain’t a word, man I’ll rise again / Man I’ll rise again / I think I need some space and time / ‘Cause I’m dead by any other name / Gonna spread my wings and fly / Play the devil at his own game / Wound-up I’m super-charged yeah / Everything  hypnotized in its glow / Feels like I’m born again, still nothing’s changed / All we’re digging out is fool’s gold / Rising, rising, phoenix blood burning in my veins / Rising rising, dead ain’t a word, man I’ll rise again / Man I’ll rise again

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Stephane Commecy. Bass Stephane Poterlot. Saxophone Xavier Sibre

SONG STORY
I am musician by nature, but a graphic designer and branding creative director by trade. When I’m not in the corner of a bar (these days of course more likely on a screen) with an acoustic guitar in my hand belting out songs, I’m in the real-world or virtual video meeting with clients sat around their respective boardroom tables waiting for me to tell them something about themselves that they don’t know already. The nutshell of this story is that I ended up as founding partner in a very successful French design company. We were a wonderful creative team, but like so many medium-sized companies post-sub prime crisis the company went bust, and we lost everything in 2014. For various nefarious reasons linked to some pretty despicable internal sabotage beyond my control I came away with absolutely nothing to show for 20 years of professional blood, sweat and tears. There was nothing to be done but just pick up the pieces and start again. When you get mad, you make noise - I guess this song was written in just such a moment.

Fool's Gold

I came across a photograph in a suitcase battered and torn / There’s a picture of a man in his younger years / he was dressed up in uniform  / He was mixed up in the jumble, in the letters and the books / In the souvenirs of other lives / A stone faced boy looking back at me, he was wearing my eyes / But he went down in a ship called prosperity in the winter of ’39 / They say you only dream in black and white / I know I know, mine is in the here and now / For so great a gift, so great a sacrifice / Love is the weapon, love is the war that they were fighting for / And it’s a strange kind of paradise / On the day of the hope and glory, roman candles in the sky / There’s a fearless child in her mother’s arms / She was born on the 4th of July, hail Mary / The smell of gunpowder, the sulphur and the dust / That they turned into a message of joy / I heard the sound of the marching song in the thunder and the noise / But I try not to think about it, let the anger in me pass / They say you only dream in black and white / I know I know, mine is in the here and now / For so great a gift, so great a sacrifice / Love is the weapon, love is the war that they were fighting for / And it’s a strange kind of paradise / I’m coming, I’m coming I’m coming / it’s a strange kind of paradise

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. 
Produced, arranged by a.George Sinclair & Joe Cady. 
All vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Stephane Commecy. Bass & electric guitar Stephane Poterlot. Violin Joe Cady. Keyboards Alain Antonelli.

SONG STORY
I know I know… I’m starting  with this song not necessarily because  it’s the most original or the best tune I might have, more out of respect that it’s the song I’ve always used to warm up in front of an audience!  I’ve played it a million times live, so it just feels like home - it reminds me of the wonderful Auld Alliance pub in the Marais in Paris where I used to be the house band for a many years. There’s no wow-effect, it’s just a straight-up country pop song, but the lyrics are truthful, so I’ve always felt convinced that it has this “OK, I’m not walking out right away, let’s hang around for another beer and see what happens“ effect on the public which allows me to relax and move on to the next song, …basically it’s a song that soothes me out of my stage-fright. 
Heavily inspired by the warm MOR 90s country sound of the Counting crows, I think it’s pretty self explanatory in its story - not exactly an anti-war song per se, more a philosophical rumination on the sad reality of life that war tragically sometimes seems to be both necessary and obligatory, whether we want to engage in one or not. It’s an old song - one of my oldest - from about 2000 (that would be AD, not BC…), but the message sounds just as valid to me now as it did back then. Both sides of a war will always believe they have god, love and righteousness on their side. How can it be that so many of us are so determined to slide back into violence and bloodshed, when so of many of our own families from previous generations lost their lives to prevent this kind of thing from ever happening again? The stand-out tracks for me on this song are the lovely interplay between Stephane Poterlot's Maggie-May style solo acoustic guitar and Alain Antonelli’s heaving, soulful keyboards.

Strange Kind of Paradise

Tiger tiger burning bright in the forest of the night / Said Schiehallion why d’you weep? I pray the lord my soul to keep / But she just stands there like a statue frozen / With those wild cat claws and that Cheshire cat grin /  So where do I begin? From the outside looking in / The lord moving in mysterious ways, mysterious ways / That shining city on a hill, you say you won’t you know you will / You know you will,  let’s watch the sunrise / It’s like I've turned to stone, I’ve been looking but I can’t find / Jerusalem, gonna make my own / Warmth been a long time coming  / Still take the weather everywhere I go / Every chance I get I’m gonna make my own / Everything she touch she turns to gold / If you touched me now I think I’d turn to stone / Jerusalem, gonna make my own / To see a world in a grain of sand, hold eternity in the palm of your hand / heaven in a wild flower, infinity in an hour / You’ve got a wild imagination William / But saying it don’t make it so, don’t make it so / So what’s another year?  It’s a leap of faith I fear / We’re all moving in mysterious ways, mysterious ways / That shining city on a hill / You say you won’t you know you will, you know you will / repeat chorus

Everyone has a sacred place in their imagination, a safe haven to go to for hope, reassurance and divine inspiration; the British romantic poet and artist William Blake found home in the biblical city of Jerusalem. It inspired him to write one of his most immortal poems, glorifying and perpetuating the Knights Templars’ legend that Jesus visited the south west of England as a boy with his uncle Joseph. For Blake Jerusalem was not somewhere overseas in a foreign land, but right here at home. If you know and love Hubert Parry’s immortal anthem based on Blake’s poem as I do, it’s hard not to experience a profound sense of yearning for the place; whether you’ve been there or not it seems the entire world (including Blake) is looking for a way to appropriate the city as their spiritual home: the mystic fire in which the ancient gods and demons of mankind were forged, the cradle and womb of civilisation from which all life was scattered, the sacred tomb to which we all one day will return. The shining gate of God’s mighty Heaven welcomes all faiths... I rejoice others these beliefs and envy their certainty. But through pragmatism or plain heathen sinfulness I believe none of these things myself - so whatever sentimental feelings I might have about it, the city I love so much from afar does not belong to me. My own personal Jerusalem, it seems, must be found elsewhere. The song is dedicated to Emmanuel & Valerie Champenois, whose wonderfully committed multi-denominational marriage serves as an example to me of how we all must reinvent and aspire to create a harmonious spiritual life, despite religious doctrines that would have it otherwise.

MUSIC AND LYRICS BY A.GEORGE SINCLAIR. PRODUCED, ARRANGED, ALL VOCALS AND INSTRUMENTS BY A.GEORGE SINCLAIR.

Jerusalem

SONG STORY
The structure and inspiration for this song is so obviously inspired by the Red Hot Chili Peppers that it seems barely worth mentioning, and I even wonder whether I should be putting them in the credits. If ever this song gets enough media attention that I'm being sued by the RHCP, I'll take that as a good problem to have. Lyrically it's just a simple melancholic song about being alone watching the Paris sun go down. I used to live right next to the Bataclan in the 11th arrondissement, and this was just another long hot summer night back then in the city of lights. The standout track for me is Duncan Robert's brush groove, which was recorded at his Belleville studio appartment in Paris way back in 1998. I had inbetween time lost all the original recording tracks on a hard disc that died on me, so I was delighted last year to have stumbled upon a 5-second mp3 sample of his brush groove you can here at the beginning of the song that had miraculously lodged itself in my itunes library. Like the Dude’s rug in The Big Lebrowski, that sample really brings the song together…  the loop must have gotten there after some random email during the work in progress, so I was delighted to be able re-record and reconstruct this entire new version using the precious sample from the original take.

City dark city bright, cover me with your firelight / The jumble of rooftops I call home / Summer sun what you doing here? Take your time while you disappear / You always look so beautiful when you’re not quite gone / And it makes me wonder / Wonder why, wonder how, used to be certain but I’m not sure now / Got a bucket of reasons why I’m happy like that / So it’s all right I understand, fly away baby if you can / Cause somewhere on the other side it’s like you just got back /And it makes me wonder / Makes me wonder why, what the trouble is, wonder how com / Something out of whack with your promises when it never gets done / Seems like there’s nothing I can do but watch the sunlight slip away / It’s just a ray of light, you know it doesn’t mean a thing / You know it doesn’t mean it doesn’t really matter now / City dark, city bright, cover me with your firelight / The jumble of rooftops I call home / Summer sun what you doing here? Take your time while you disappear / You always look so beautiful when you’re not quite gone / You hang there waiting in the sky / You know it makes me wonder why / You know it makes me wonder / Busy life a busy day, close my eyes and slip away / Get a cup put the kettle on, you know it makes me wonder / You know it makes me wonder / Seems like there’s nothing I can do but watch the sunlight slip away / It’s just a ray of light, you know it doesn’t mean a thing / You know it doesn’t mean it doesn’t really matter now / You know it doesn’t mean, but there’s something out of whack / Something out of whack, something out of whack / Something out of whack, something out of whack

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair. Brush Groove by Duncan Roberts.

Jumblesun

SONG STORY

So here’s a quiet, mellow song for a rainy Sunday night on earth. I was messing around - as many others have done before me and many will do in the future - with the memorable Iggy Pop 4-chord descent from Passenger. Like the Andelusian cadence, It’s a universal chord flow that you can hang all kinds of original melodies on, so it has become many different songs to different artists.  Personally I slowed it down into a 3/4 shuffle and tried adding a Beatlesque middle eight and ending. The stand-out tracks are Paul Solas’ haunting guitars (love the fade in the Coda), and Xavier Sibre’s Bassoon that give the song a Sting/ Tanita Tikaram Jazz feel.
It’s a song about madness, of course. I was amused by the antithetical nature of the title, so I thought it would be compelling enough an idea to build into the song. There’s an old adage that the only families that aren’t crazy are the ones you don’t know well enough. I think this rule also applies to us all as individuals, not just to  the loving, supporting but clearly universally dysfunctional families we all find ourselves born into. There is a definite and palpable madness inside tall of us that we recognise in ourselves but don’t show to others. The only reason we do pretty well everything we do the way we do is because society teaches us that we have to. We know this to be the case but there’s nothing to be done about it, so best hide it all under the surface and get on with our day. I don’t know how others reconcile themselves with this  inner conflict, but the way I find peace of mind is through the song-writing.  I think there hasn’t been an event of major significance in my life, either good or bad, that hasn’t ended up in somewhere in a song. It's a healthy practice that helps me make sense of life, but it does lead to significant feelings of guilt and self-indulgence: why spend so much time writing music, when there are so many other real life issues to be resolved - What’s the point, who’s listening anyway? Clearly it’s my own form of madness, but without it I don’t know what I’d do. The first line to this song was an enigmatic one-line Facebook post a few years ago by a friend of mine on Facebook - I have no idea where he got the line from himself, but I must admit I liked it so I borrowed it for this song.


SONG LYRICS
These nameless streets that we slip down / Wild-eyed and giddy in the wind / Stumbling, falling laughing wasted to the ground / And I kissed you on your lilywhite skin / There used to be a time when I thought you mine / There used to be a time, but now the truth is plain to see / That the only thing left to do with fools like us / Is to lock us up and throw away the key / It’s a madness, it's a madness / But we need it like the desert needs the rain / Love is a madness gets us all but in the end / It’s the madness that keeps us sane / You, you say it's all been done, I disagree / Nobody here like you no one like me, like you and me / Open up your eyes, you'll be amazed / How many fools have tried, we're all the same / We’re all the same, we're all the same / What would you do now if I told you that I loved you / But shared with you the madness of my ways ? / Would you wrap me in your secrets and I’ll tell you my lies / And we’ll wash it all at the end of days / It’s a madness, it's a madness / But we need it like the desert needs the rain / Love is a madness gets us all but in the end / It’s the madness that keeps us sane / So c'mon over sit down, we can be as one / When you put the two together / It’s the madness when it’s all / When it’s all been said and done, it’s a madness…

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Stephane Commecy. Bass Stephane Poterlot. Violin Joe Cady. Electric guitar Paul Solas. Bassoon Xavier Sibre

Thanks Pixabay for use of rights-free image sources  https://pixabay.com

Madness

I was going for a John Martyn “sweet little mystery“ / Jesus and the Mary Chain / Lou Reed “Sunday morning“ thing here. Despite the benign, languid nature of the lyrics this is not exactly a love song. The song-title seemed like a nice idea to hang a melody on, but as I began writing it the visceral sense became different. I started with this line “open the box press send“ (which ironically didn’t even end up staying in the song). There was a technology/ internet thing going on there somewhere, which lead to a story about masculine fragility: the twisted power play of internet voyeurism, where the lines between victim and user become blurred. The song is a half- story about an uncontrollable infatuation with a virtual lover - Incapable of distinguishing between love and unilateral obsession, the person could click on their computer and choose any partner he desired if he wanted, but always returns to the same experience with the same person. He relishes in the thrill of knowing this stranger’s body in every physical way imaginable, but the performer neither knows nor cares for those who watch beyond their role as a source of revenue. So who controls who? Odd how that happened, I was sure it was just another love song, but as with all of life there’s often something else hiding under the surface.


And so the world stops now,/ blinded in the light of Venus / She’s stealing all the space between us over and over again Smile and the floodgates open, cry and you cry in vain / Everybody wants to be the one to know your name / To be a pawn in your game / And it’s the things that you say that give it away from the start / She’s got a hold of me, something’s got a hold of me / Tongue-tied, the things that you say, now It’s got me mystified, she got me hypnotised / Over and over again, she’s got me hypnotised / So there she goes, telling you that love’s the answer / Such a simple little thing she’s after over and over again / and it’s the things that you say that give it away from the start / now It’s got me mystified / it’s got a hold of me, something’s got a hold of me / Tongue-tied, the things that you say / It’s got me mystified, she got me hypnotised / Over and over again, she’s got me hypnotised / It’s like I’m trapped I can’t push it away / it’s got me mystified It’s got me mystified/ She’s got a hold of me, something’s got a hold of me / Tongue-tied, the things that you say, now It’s got me mystified, she got me hypnotised / Over and over again, she’s got me hypnotised / she got me hypnotised / Over and over again, she’s got me hypnotised / I’m down on my knees, I’m beggin’ baby / You’re such a perfect tease, you got me thinking / She got / me hypnotised / And it’s the things that you say, the things that you say / Can’t push it away can’t push it away / she got me hypnotised.

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Stephane Commecy. Bass Stephane Poterlot.

Hypnotised

SONG STORY
The first lyrics of this song were written beneath a blindingly lovely night sky on the Mediterranean island of Corsica, to me one of the most beautiful places in the world. It's a song not about the deception or pain of love, nor its wonder exactly - more about the frustrations, and how to turn them round despite all the misunderstandings. That's pretty well the story... There are many inspirations to be found in the mood of the song: it started life as Brian Wilson summer-thing, but ended up  over time and with the band as a Fleet Foxes / Keen British vibe, with an OMD 80s keyboard riff and 90s Oasis Gibson guitar thrown in. If I add the Prince and Madonna licks at the end and the Sting lyrics in the middle eight,  it turns out this song is quite the melting pot.  It's still got enough of its own thing going on, so...

SONG LYRICS
So maybe it’s dark but I don’t feel cold / I got this blanket right over me, it’s crazy I know /  I’m dizzy in my head tonight, the fires burning in the back of my mind / Well it’s a wonder the way they don’t get old / The things that you do to me, the powers you hold / I’m crazy ’bout the two of us now, the logic fits it’s obvious how / So what do I say? What do i do? / it's crazy now, it's crazy now / And it’s crazy, isn’t it life? this fussing and fighting / Who’s wrong and who’s right? / My lord, so say it I must, you’re here in my heart I love you so much / And it’s crazy now crazy now, it’s crazy now crazy now / It’s a wonder the way your spaceship shines / The streetlights of infinity twinkling in rhyme /Spiders spinning webs of verse / your name across the universe /  I got this light in my head that I can’t define / Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I’m blind / But if you want it girl I understand, still got you darling in the back of my mind / I know every subtle line and flaw, like it’s there upon the wall / I know every rise and fall / So what do I say, what do I do, people like me, people like you? And it’s Crazy..

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums: Fabien Haimovici. Electric guitar Keveen Baudouin.

Crazy

Bago’nails

You’ll need a bigger bag o' nails if you wanna put me in the ground / Said the firecat to the queen, you’d better tie my body down / ‘Cause Tweedle eye said Tweedle dumb, the morning comes I will be gone / You’ll need a bigger bag o' nails if you wanna put me in the ground  / Tweedle dumb said Tweedle dee, the morning comes I will be free / You’ll need a bigger bag o' nails if you wanna put me in the ground / You'll need a bigger bag o' puff if you wanna blow down my door  / Said the piggy, Mr. Wolf, what you howling at me for? / You might take a shine to coming in, but not by my chinny-chin / You’ll need a bigger bag o' nails if you wanna put me in the ground  / In the ground, in the ground, getting dirty from the top down / Oh Magali, oh sweet Magalee, what you doing with a fool like me? / You dig down, like a mole in a hole / You dig down like a mole in a hole in a hole / You'll need a bigger bag o' rope if you wanna hang me out to dry / Said the Hangman to the Thief, soon you’ll be dancing in the sky / Yeah well the noose you made fits any size but I don't think you quite realise  / You'll need a bigger bag o' nails if you want to put me in the ground / In the ground, in the ground, getting dirty from the top down / Oh Magali, oh sweet Magalee, what you doing with a fool like me? / You dig down, like a mole in a hole / You dig down like a mole in a hole in a hole / You’ll need a bigger bag o' nails…

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair, except: Violin and Mandolin : Joe Cady

SONG STORY
I was asked to come up with some ideas for a prospective musical show in Paris by the inspiring and remarkable American choreographer Larry Vickers. Unfortunately the project never saw the light of day for me, but It was an interesting exercise trying to write “musical“ songs instead of pop songs. I was left with an Irish jig violin riff that stuck around for years with no memorable lyrics to speak of, - the song fell into place a few years later when I was trying my hand at writing a Dylan/Cash style murder ballad. The song is the last conversation between a convicted killer and his hangman moments before his imminent death, the hollow defiant swagger of a man who considers himself untouchable by the law, his admission of regret to his girlfriend that his shame would follow her through life after his death.

DEDICATION

Larry’s first and only simple rule of music is that you must choose your melody line with care. He taught me that in any given moment in a song, the specific notes you choose - playing on different possible musical cadences to make a song either rise, fall, or repeat, by either going up or down the musical scale - can change the experience of the song entirely. For him the idea is to “carry“ the listener, by making the melody flow in the most natural way possible on top of the music.  The ear expects to be both surprised and satisfied at the same time, and I often find myself playing around with a Larry’s “fundamental melody“ idea to find the “ideal“ flow that makes a song easy to remember.

BagoNails

So this is the first real song I think I wrote, when I was about 18 or so. Inspired by this distinctive percussive slow-slap guitar technique I’d picked up from listening to John Martyn’s magnificent Solid Air album, I was aiming for a Paul Weller / James Taylor / Lo-fi 80s Ben Watt jazz thing - mixed in with a few crumbs of Bread’s “I want to make it with you“. For years I never took the song particularly seriously, and I think I've never actually sung it live beyond the edge of my couch. Now I’ve finally recorded it properly forty years after it was written, I’m much happier with it than I was - and hold my friend and singer/songwriter Steve Harris entirely responsible for its current existence. He has always insisted that it’s one of my better ones, so out of respect for his mighty musical ear, I couldn’t put out any collection of my material without it.

SONG DEDICATION
When we were kids I would watch on amazed as Steve’s magical one-man performances would rock and/or transfix a smoke-filled terraced-house of cider-soaked Taunton teenagers. It made me realise that I really, really wanted to be able to do the same thing. His palpable stage fearlessness taught me about managing my own nerves, and he instilled in me from a very young age two important disciplines of a performance artist: 1. Given the low-hanging fruit option of singing crowd-pleasing cover versions, having the integrity and courage as an artist to always confront a crowd with your own material, and 2. If you’re not 100% authentic and invested in your performance like it’s your last day on earth, the audience will sense it, switch off and move on, so you might as well give it your all.

SONG LYRICS
It first occurred to me in the afternoon / it soothes my senses stirs my soul  / Light warms thicker than blood in the drifting haze of your room / Killing time's too easy too slow / Lamplight during daylight pales the colour in your eyes / Hid from the haste and pointless chase of fools' shadows passing by/ Burning lamplight during daylight / Only shadows in the window, doesn’t matter / Which way people come which way they go / Always rushing somewhere they don’t know why worry  / What tomorrow might bring?  / The closer you get, the deeper the mess I’m in / Burning lamplight during daylight / Lamplight during daylight pales the colour in your eyes / Hid from the haste and pointless chase of fools' shadows passing by.

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair.

Lamplight

This is just a simple rock’n’roll song, heavily inspired by 80s Tom Petty, REM and Peter Gabriel. The title came first - even though Buddy Holly notably put the metaphor in the lyrics of his song Everyday, it’s never been a song-title as far as I know. I was partly influenced by McCartney’s Helterskelter, where the one word is repeated on top of a slow-tempo heavy rock riff. Paul’s  iconographic song has been (I think correctly) identified as the song that gave birth to punk rock sound. I’m not trying to re-invent any genres here, just having fun. Stand-out tracks are Paul Solas’ and Stephane Poterlot’s electric guitars, which, as ever work, so well together.

In the air, all around / you can open your eyes but don’t look down / Tickets free so take your place, heading up the start of the human race / From the sky up to the ground, everything’s different upside-down / We got the train getting ready to fly, but it’s too late to wonder why / From the sky up to the ground / everything’s different upside down / we got no time to lose, no time to doubt / we got the whistle man ready to blow / Yeah you know you know you know / You got nothing to keep you, your feet on solid ground / Give me something I can hold on to / You love me then you shoot me down / Like a roller coaster, so saddle up and hold on tight / We got the whistle man ready to blow / You know you know you know, you’re a rollercoaster / Getting high now and then, gravity pulls you back again / Through the twist and through the turn / building your bridge you better watch it burn / No time to lose, no time to doubt /How the whole damn thing works out / yeah you know you know you know / repeat chorus / In the air, all around, you can open your eyes but don’t look down / Tickets free so take your place, heading up the start of the human race / From the sky up to the ground, everything’s different upside-down /We got the whistle man ready to blow / you know you know you know, you’re a rollercoaster

MUSIC AND LYRICS BY A.GEORGE SINCLAIR. PRODUCED, ARRANGED, ALL VOCALS AND INSTRUMENTS BY A.GEORGE SINCLAIR EXCEPT: DRUMS STEPHANE COMMECY. BASS & ELECTRIC GUITAR STEPHANE POTERLOT. ELECTRIC GUITAR PAUL SOLAS

Roller Coaster

SONG STORY
I’ve played at the Scottish Auld Alliance Pub in Paris more times than I can remember ( I was the house band there for a couple of years back in the 00’s). This song was written when I first started playing there. I think it was one of the first of my own songs that I ever dared to play live, as it had this feel good, foot-thumping / Jake Bug / Simon & Garfunkel / Fleetwood Mac / singalong blues thing going on that was easy to play live for audiences that didn’t know my songs - Any musician will tell you it's not easy playing your own material, but I would always religiously insist on trying to alternate between a cover song, original song, then another cover etc over the evening. It was based on the theory that  I had to give the audience what they want, but I also had ambitions to showcase my own songs as much as I could too. It taught me a lot about being able to evaluate the quality of a song by its effect on the crowd - the tension will always be there when the audience knows a song, but the atmosphere dissipates the moment they don’t recognise a melody they can sing along too, so there really has to be something compelling and well-structured if you can get them to dance or sing along to a tune they don’t know. It’s why even Keith Richards and the Rolling Stones categorically refused to play a song live that hadn’t already been released by their label: they knew it killed the atmosphere for the audience. His theory was that people basically have to learn a song before they can enjoy it... My ambition was to able to have song strong enough that I could keep the line flat, and switch between cover songs and my own without losing the tension in room or the attention of the crowd

SONG LYRICS
When you’re lost inside your space, open up your eyes and look around / Don't jump me Jack said tumbling Jill I can’t stand up for falling down / That lady of providence she’s got a cold gleam in her eyes / Ain’t much familiar with the needle where she lies  / ‘Cause I got sunshine on a black-cloud day / I know I’ll find the needle in the hay / When your heart gets broken and then / Picking up the pieces, break it all and start again / Last night I went travelling in a field of dreams I’m walking / mIdnight kicking down the old stone path on Glastonbury Hill / I saw the lamb of heaven she was laying down with the lion / They danced together in a ring of fire, deeply she kissed him and smiled / ‘Cause I got sunshine on a black-cloud day / I know I’ll find the needle in the hay / When your heart gets broken and then / Picking up the pieces, break it all and start again / Green grows the family tree but there’s something that I missed / What I got is what I need so heaven be blessed / And I feel I’m getting closer every day to the needle in the hay…

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair

Needle In The Hay

SONG STORY
Toltstoy, basically, was a creative man of the people. He believed that art had a fundamental social role above and beyond aesthetics. Like Voltaire he disliked Shakespeare, considering the man’s plays little more than low-hanging fruit to distract the masses. For him Shakespeare's work failed in its most fundamental role as a conduit of the collective conscience. His plays ignored narrative credibility, and were nothing more than self-indulgent if admittedly highly entertaining poetry and ditties…so what happen to the traditional folk/protest singers in our society who used to fulfil this objective of social commentary? I’m sure I’m not the only one who sincerely believes that if Lennon hadn’t been murdered in New York in 1980, we wouldn’t be living in this despicably selfish and greedy world that we live in today. So what would John do? If there are no artists providing beacons of hope and principal left, where are the rest of us to look? Few contemporary artists today write songs like the 2Oth century rock’n’roll heros, or are willing to take a stand. It ain't gonna be Taylor Swift that saves us... Art in its broader meaning seems to have lost this basic social function that Tolstoy so revered. So here we are, individually clear in our vision of the world, but as a civilisation and species as blinded as we ever were. I have no idea whether the music might save us, but I still believe it’s worth a try.

SONG LYRICS
Back in the seventies I was just a young boy then / Simple child I guess about the age of ten / Mama said it’s your life, you gotta get it right son / Don’t be the ninety-nine percent, don’t be the blinded one / Growing up I was sure we’d get it all worked out / Never stopped believing, never had a doubt / I look around me now all I see’s the same damn thing / So sick and tired, what kind of world we living in ? / So the lights goes out, and the line goes dark, the strings pulled tight / Mister all I’m trying to do is make my way back home / Makes you wonder how the dogs of Wall St, they ever get to sleep at night  / It’s not enough, it’s not enough I want more / It’s not enough, it’s not enough I want more / It’s like we’re living blinded, it’s like we’re living blindfold

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Drums Stephane Commecy Bass electric guitar Stephane Poterlot. Electric guitar Stéphane Jais

Blindfold

There’s a July heat there’s the sweat on my skin / There’s the smell of your body lingering, you were my wake-up call / now trust is a given thing, and one we waste / I have these words I have my faith, don’t want this confrontation anymore / But if you trust in me like I trust in you / I’ll make all these worries disappear, make it something new / From a changing man, this life is in your hands / And it’s true, my mind made up / There’s a fever in the air that could tear the night apart / I need a cool touch, the sign of reassurance in a lover’s eyes / If you lay down by me, then I’ll walk you through the dark / I’ll be your light, your near-or-far, I’ll be your dragonfly / But if you trust in me, like I trust in you / I’ll make all these worries disappear, make it something new / From a changing man, this life is in your hands / And it’s true, if you put your trust in me, I’ll put my trust in you / My mind made up, well I put my trust, my mind made up / Do you see me, like I see you? do you need me? am I getting through? / As long as love’s what you’re giving, if it’s real I’m satisfied / You have the power in you now it’s yours to decide / It’s yours to decide, yours to decide / It’s yours to decide, yours to decide

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair except: Piano & keyboards : Jean-Max Mery. Drums: Fabien Haimovici.

SONG STORY
This is the first song I wrote in my 30s, trying to be Paul Weller or John Martyn, or both. It marked a watershed moment for me in my life, where I think I finally started to take the idea of a committed relationship with a partner seriously - it was ironic that partner in question for whom I had written the song had already decided that I wasn’t the one for her. It came to me not long after the relationship had ended, but looking back I think from the lyrical point of view I wonder if I`m as much talking to myself as I am to someone else. It’s a song about my own provarication in a way. I had come to realise that at some point  if I seriously wanted something real and long-lasting in my life in terms of a relationship, maybe I should start by taking responsibility and making a little more effort myself. It was the first time since quite a while that I wasn’t in control in a relationship, and I think it shows here in the sober, conciliatory nature of the lyrics.

Trust

SONG STORY
So this is me pretending to be Paul Simon. Again. As is often the case the song is a mash of two or three ideas hung together to make a cohesive narrative. ’Forever still’ was a phrase from a song in my twenties. I always found the metaphor compelling, because to be still represents to me a state of seemingly unattainable peace of mind - let’s say I am one of those people that has a few issues trying to get my brain to switch off...  For me to be ‘Forever still’ is to be at rest, free from the relentless voice of reasoning in my head that sometimes I think would drive me onto the rocks sooner than help guide me through the storms of life to safe havens. The inspiration for me in this song is a mountain in Perthshire Scotland, called Schiehallion, which marks the place of my family’s origins. The mountain for me is a beacon of hope, it gives me a reassuring sense of continuity in a world where everything seems to be changing beyond our control. My grandparents lived and died beneath its light-shifting shadows. I fished there as a child with my Aunt in the burns (the streams that run down form the mountains to Rannoch loch), and I’lll always consider it as the rock and cornerstone in my life, the fulcrum around which the rest of the universe turns.
The Song starts with a cool line that I didn’t write. ‘f I could I’d teach my feet to fly’ was an enigmatic one-line post I read on Facebook by the wonderful Scottish singer Siobahn Wilson. The line fitted perfectly as a start to this song that was missing a first verse for years, I hope she doesn't mind. The bells in the chorus are those of the Paris Notre Dame. I lived beneath them for so many years on the Ile St Louis, I became accustomed to their sound, so they had to end up in one of my songs one way or another.

SONG LYRICS
If I could I‘d teach my feet to fly / Heaven knows I’d fly to you / The cup half full can’t fill the day when you’re a thousand miles away / Without you here there is no right to my left hand / Yeah well here I am, here I am / I hear the bells ringing out across the water / Telling me there must be love that time can’t kill / Forever bound forever tied now, let it slide let it slide / I wish I was, cause I wish I was, forever still / What if all of this was just a dream ? / Scattered like confetti in the air / Are we awake or are we sleeping?  / The doubt inside me creeping / That the love we shared between us now still stands / Yeah well here I am, here I am… I think about you everyday/ Beside you come what may, here I am / Are we awake or are we sleeping? / The doubt inside me creeping, here I am / here I am

Music and lyrics (except first line of lyrics by Siobhan Williams)  by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair

Forever Still

TrustREMIX

There was once a renowned Italian sculptor in Renaissance Italy who was asked by a bishop viewing one of his pieces how he'd known there was such a beautiful lion contained within that massive, misshapen piece of stone? The artist replied to the bishop that he had simply knocked off everything that didn't look like a lion... I love this image, as I believe it says all you need to know about the learning curve of life. In order to achieve our ambitions we have no choice but to keep relentlessly banging away a little each day (“no, not like that, that’s not a lion…no, that’s not a lion either…) until at some point, by default of the thing you are making being a little closer to representing what it is you were trying to express than it was the day before, you actually might find yourself one day with something of real artistic merit in your hands. I think I have spent my life being so blown away by the art and music of others - all those damn beautiful lions out there - how could I not be tempted to spend a little spare time on this mortal coil banging a few rocks together myself on the off-chance there might be some plausible lion of my own out there waiting to be revealed ?  I’ve found myself stuck down here in the well this past few nights digging away at a few ideas. Now here I am back on the surface, blinking in the daylight, clutching this raw but shiny new song which, ironically, is all about the gold rush.

SONG LYRICS 
We hit the California wildgrass / The cactus and the tumbleweed / Glistening now the sky’s cleared  / They’ll be hitching up the wagons soon / The rumour spread like wildfire  / Now it’s been 3 months since Hudson Bay / Gold fever gold fever son / You know I’d be there if I had my way / So get on board / the Bright Water, Bright Water, Bright Water deep mine company / Holed up here but back in New York I’ve got this girl who cares for me  / the Bright Water, Bright Water, when we hit the river gonna get my fill, the word out on the trail / is that there’s gold in them there hills / Got this ticket in my hand for the promised land / Wolves howling, wolves howling / I hear there’s gold in them there hills / All aboard all aboard, we’re heading out now / We’re heading out now / Bright water line, Bright water / Mama, it’s like the weight of the world on your shoulder /Think before you kick the can over / Gotta keep moving can’t stand still /  keep in line / The Bright water special right on time / take me to the river now, wash in the water, let's start over / the weight of the world on your shoulder / it’s like I’m born again, born again 

Music and lyrics by A.George Sinclair. Produced, arranged, all vocals and instruments by A.George Sinclair

Thanks Freepics for use of certain rights-free image sources  www.freepik.com

Brightwater

There was once a renowned Italian Renaissance sculptor who was asked by a bishop viewing one of his pieces how he had known there was such a beautiful lion contained within that massive, misshapen piece of stone he'd been given ? The artist replied that he simply knocked off everything that didn't look like a lion... I love this metaphor, as I believe it says all you need to know about the learning curve of life. In order to acheive our creative and worldly ambitions we have no choice but to keep relentlessly banging away a little each day (“no, not like that, that’s not a lion…no, that’s not a lion either…) until at some point, by default of the thing you are making being a little closer to representing what it is you were trying to express than it was the day before, you actually might find yourself one day with something of real artistic merit in your hands. I think I have spent my life being so blown away by the art and music of others - all those damn beautiful lions out there - how could I not be tempted to spend a little time whilst on this mortal coil banging a few rocks together myself on the off-chance there might be some plausible lion of my own out there waiting to be revealed ?  I hope you like the songs, and thanks for passing by. A.George Sinclair

A.George Sinclair

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