This is what I like to think of as a hypodermic song – it slides under your skin with just the slightest nick, and before you know it you’ve got a bit old dose of feels.
I spent a fair chunk of the first part of lockdown going on excursions around Huyton. The weather was fine, that first flush of Spring that has stayed with us almost continuously up to the cusp of summer, and I would take most of my sojourns under a sky endless and blue, cloudless from horizon to horizon.
I felt, as I’m sure many did, isolated; in my case, I’d been feeling that way for a long time, almost since I’d returned from Edinburgh. I was learning to fit into a new work routine on a reduced income, and I found myself becoming increasingly detached from people who had been an important part of my life for many years. I found myself thinking of those friends a great deal on my walks – wondering what they were up to, how they were coping with lockdown, if they felt as awed as I did by that enormous, unsullied sky. That’s when the idea for this song first came to me, although at that point I had no idea of anything beyond the title.
As lockdown wore on and I threw myself into projects and schemes, I found myself missing those friends less and less. It’s an oddly bittersweet feeling; the feeling of liberation from a situation I could do little about is tempered by the knowledge that those people may well be gone from my life for good. That was when this song crystallised, tumbling out in blessedly speedy fashion; I think the lyrics took me an afternoon to get down, which was a relief after holding the idea formless in my head for so long.
The eagle-eyed among you will note that the twelve-string is back, and just as out-of-tune; I actually filmed this the same day as ‘Up The Wolves’, but because I put that video up out of order you’re only seeing this one now. I haven’t actually touched it since, but once I’ve finished writing this bunch of songs I’ll dust it off and set about trying to learn the damn thing properly.
Until next time, keep watching the sky.
Huyton Couture 