Kieron Gillen's workblog




Just back from a Cheese night at moles.

And now I wanted to write something about the power of the popular totemic songs that make up a cheese night, but I can't quite bring myself to do it. I may be too drunk. I'm not quite sure.

Instead, I present for you a cut-and-paste version of the lyrics for "New Birds" by Arab Strab. It is, to be honest, probably the best love lyric of the ninties. And more than most lost lyrics, works to a reasonable degree outside the actual song - more than other great love lyrics, which only work in context (I was going to ramble about Dub Be Good To Me's "Love is a game of chances - so take your chance on me", which is doggrel in print, but holy text in the context of a stolen dub-bass line. Clearly, I recommend you hitting the filesharing and downloading it rather than just reading it here.

But there's truth here, and I've had girls pull me to me to their face and kiss me fiercely when I actually talk about it properly. It's simply as important a thing as pop music has begat me in my lifetime.

While writing this blog post, I've warmed some soup and made a cup of tea. I've spilt the tea worryingly close to my PC and spilt half the soup all over my kitchen. Hence: Drunk. Forgive me.

In the morning, I'll be sober. But "New Birds" will still be a thing of beauty.

"You just have to be sure you're doing the right thing. I mean it's very easy to forget - she's was just sitting there in the pub with her new friends and her new life and her new hair and it might been five years but you'd know just to look at her. I wasn't even sure it was her at first, I was ready to walk away but she smiled and called me over and we said hello for a bit. When we went back to our tables we were tried not to look over at each other and told our friends to stop staring. I didn't see her for the rest of the night, but by closing time the beer's kicked in so I go up and speak to her and we end up going for a walk and talking about our new homes, our new jobs, our new friends and our new birds.

She says she's been going out with him now for about two and a half years, but they don't live together so he'd never find out. And you think about chasing her about school when you were wee and lying in your bed and listening to love songs and pretending they were about you. And the first time you asked her out she said no but one night you went to a wedding and when you came back to the pub she'd changed her mind and you went out. You remember the way she swung her arms when she held your hand but you can't remember how she kissed and now you've got the chance to find out.

But you have to remember there's this other kiss. And she's sitting at home, wondering where you are and what you're doing. And you work hard on this kiss and you know it inside out, it's as much yours as it is hers, and it took a long time to get right, it took months of practice and months of embarassment but now you've got it perfected and you've been looking forward to that kiss all week.

You can see her breath in the air between your faces as you stand in the leaves and she just asks you straight out if you want to come and stay at her flat. But you make sure you get separate taxis and you go home and there might be a slight regret and maybe you'll wonder what you missed but you have to remember the kiss that you worked so hard on - and you'll know you've done the right thing."




Kieron Gillen's Workblog, foo'.