Showing posts with label true love leaves no traces. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true love leaves no traces. Show all posts

Thursday, June 26, 2008

June 26,2008 Earworm


Regardless of what anyone thinks about Spandau Ballet's "True" album, it seemed to kick off a small wave of Scottish blue-eyed soul - yet Spandau weren't Scottish... go figure. Not quite sophisipop, and most of the time not quite right, its brief existence yielded a few good moments from the funky Hipsway, the even funkier Love And Money, and the glacially mannered "Feels Like Heaven" by Fiction Factory. Lyrically at odds with its title, "Feels Like Heaven" lists a series of relationship atrocities recognizable to anyone who has stuck around long enough to experience the dark side of familiarity. Or, is it just a list of gripes from a guy close to death and, if so, does thst make it the perfect Goth break-up song? Then again, maybe the heaven to which he is referring is simply a life alone.
I've been wondering for twenty-four years now, still unsure of what he's on about, yet somehow recognizing a kindred spirit. And like Spandau's "True", I'm aware of its shortcomings but I love it for what it is. Whatever that is.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

February 06, 2008 Earworm



I recently stated that the arrangement of Leonard Cohen's "True Love Leaves No Trace" has always seemed to me like a few different songs bumped into each other during the
last dance of the prom, but I realize that I missed the mark with my description. It may be a last dance but the arrangement is better suited to a bar. It's the lyric that belongs to the prom:

"As the mist leaves no traces
on the dark green hill,
So my body leaves no scar on you,
and never will"

As beautiful as that verse is to me, I've always had trouble believing. It's not that I think that Leonard's lying, it's that his seems to be a truth believed only after a few too many bendings of the elbow, uttered by a lopsided grin behind a mask of cigarette smoke. It sounds right for the moment but never for the long haul, when the morning light exposes everyone's reality.

If true love leaves no traces, how can it be real? What was felt? What was learned?

"True Love Leaves No Traces" can be found on "Death of a Ladies' Man".