If someone were to analyse the subject matter of songs, I think it’s a fairly safe bet that it would conclude that the most written about topic is **drum roll**……… **dramatic pause**…..love.
That’s reciprocated love, of course. I love you and you love me, isn’t it great, everyone’s happy, la la la, repeat to fade.
Life’s not always like that though, is it? For every successful relationship or love affair, there must be at least, conservative (with a small c) estimate ten failed ones.
So, I imagine the second most popular subject would be that of unrequited love, or that of a lover spurned. Because while we all know what it feels like to be in love, we also all know what it’s like for that love to be totally unsuccessful, unappreciated or unwelcome.
And that’s where music really steps in.
Who amongst us hasn’t, frustrated by a potential partner’s utter failure to acknowledge our obsession with them, or dejected by rejection, turned to our best friend for companionship, solace and verification. Our best friend being our record collection, of course.
Unless you’re an idiot like me (and many of my peers, judging by the Comments on a recent post) who has sold or given away records and instantly regretted it, then your music collection is probably the one true constant in your life. Those records never leave you, they’re just there, waiting for the time to be right for you to blow the dust off them again.
And so to this, one of the most honest, visceral, downright fucking angry and upset lyrics you’ll ever hear. And, I’ll wager, one of the greatest records of the 21st century:
Before you ask, I’m fine. I’ve not been dumped recently (chance would be a fine thing), it just strikes me this is a rich seam worth digging into.