Monday, 22 August 2011

Lionel Blair touches his nose and points.

Just read this set of lyrics on the musician and absinthe importer John Moore's web-site. I was intrigued by the man because Kasch on his visit over here gave me a copy of Luke Haine's new stink-piece "Post Everything" and the pair were once in Black Box Recorder, who had a hit over a decade ago.

Moore is an interesting figure. He was once the drummer in the Jesus and Mary Chain and when he left immediately formed an inept, cartoonish version of that band called John Moore and the Expressway (hopefully I'm spelling that incorrectly). After they disbanded (I remember they were on the Chart Show once and certainly looked the part) he was in another couple of dreadful bands before reinventing himself as a louche commentator on sport in The Idler as well as being modestly successful on University Challenge. Today he ekes out a respectable existence as a writer and makes music for fun like the rest of us have to. We have never met.

None of which explains the lyrics below. It's the last line that hurts the most!


Bohemian Jerk

I’m a middle-aged penniless Bohemian Jerk
A debonair decadent that won’t do to work
I’m a rich man living in a poor man’s skin
An old man’s body that’s preserved in sin

My head’s full of lust and my heart’s full of rage
I’m dating girls almost half my age
They don’t want much so they’re not disappointed
Just the wisdom of the age from this sage self-appointed
Just a few last drops from this Saint self-anointed

I’ve read all the novels and now I’m writing them too
At my time of life it’s what a man’s got to do
When you’ve soaked up, snorted up, sucked it dry
Drunk yourself to death but you still won’t die

I’m self-employed doing sweet FA
I’m a schedule D but I’m DOA
Still living on hand outs from my mother
It’s the only thing keeping me out of the gutter
But I’m going to be big some day, yes I’m going to be huge some day
There’s a whole lot of people going to know about me
From the CIA to the BBC

I’m rancourous, cantankerous, downright cancerous
I might be a wanker but I’ve still got my hair,
I’m argumentative, no incentive,
Because arseholes only need fresh air.

But you’ve got to give back to the young generation
Help da kidz to find their true vocation
Or we’ll run out of middle-aged bohemian jerks
Debonair decadents who won’t go to work…

And then who’d buy all the books from Oxfam?

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