Why does my mother phone meThis is one of those where-has-it-been-all-my-life? songs; NYMary actually burned me a CD of the Funland album three years ago, and I know I listened to it, but somehow it just never registered at the time. And then a couple of weeks ago another friend played it for me and I felt like I'd been smacked upside the head with a 2X4.
Just to tell me that she doesn't like me?
Why does my mother phone me --
Why doesn't she just disown me?
Why when I run away
Do they send the police to get me?
Why when I run away
Do they pretend that they just can't catch me?
If life is just a game
Why isn't anyone smiling?
And if life is just a game
There shouldn't be rules and there shouldn't be blame
Ooh la la la la la la la la
Ooh la la la la la la la la
Why am I always happy
When everybody else is scowling?
Why am I always pleased
When everybody else is down on their knees?
Ooh la la la la la la la la
Ooh la la la la la
When I sound like some kind of fool
Do I sound like I'm the only one sane?
Do I sound like I'm a fool
Because I've nothing to lose and nothing to gain?
Ooh la la la la la la la la
Ooh la la la la la
Why does my mother phone me
Just to tell me that she doesn't like me?
Why does my mother phone me --
Why doesn't she just disown me?
Ooh la la la la la la la la
Ooh la la la la la....
It's about madness, rather obviously, but from a very writerly perspective; you don't get the feeling, as you do with, say, certain Syd Barrett songs, that you're hearing a cry from a genuinely troubled psyche, although it's still completely believable. In any case, the way the lyrics proceed from basically mundane, albeit funny, observational head-scratchers to existentially scary and rather profound non sequiturs is quite brilliantly managed, I think, and the production and arrangement, as the vocal layering piles up while the track moves along, reinforces the general feeling of dislocated wigginess as well, up to and including the almost surreal Spanish bullfight music finale (those castanets and trumpet just fricking slay me -- you can practically see the guys in mariachi outfits materializing out of nowhere.)
In sum, a fabulous and inexplicably moving record, IMHO. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but the whole thing -- and particularly that ending -- makes me sorry, for a change, that this is one 80s song that never occasioned a music video, although I can't for the life of me think of a director back then who could have done the record justice.
[h/t to Greg and Glen "Bob" Allen]
7 comments:
Wonderful tune. It has occurred to me that all Bram Tchaikovsky's album cuts (Lonely Dancer, Used to be my Used to Be, etc.) might actually be better than they seem. They just have the misfortune of appearing alongside the incomparable towering majesty of Girl of My Dreams. Anything seems small by comparison.
"Girl" really had to be a hard act to follow, that's for sure.
I still listen to the first record pretty often. I bought this record in the day with high expectations. Then I heard a kinda lame guitar solo, and it threw me off. One of the great things about Strange Man Changed Man was the lack of solos per se. I was expecting more power pop with no guitar solos and had trouble dealing with this more eclectic record.
That and I was in my early 20s and stupid. I doubt I kept this vinyl, but it makes me want to go look for it in storage.
Trey
Let's not forget The Motors, they were a good band too, solid songs.
Very tart song. Great entry.
It strikes me as very sad or ironic that the reverence with which the once-in-a-lifetime Girl of My Dreams is mentioned or discussed didn't translate into more of a career for the Bram Tchaikovsky outfit back in the group's day, or yield some kind of musical afterlife, a la Rick Springfield.
Steve, where is Peter Bramall today? He seems to belong to the ages. - AP
No idea. He's apparently still alive, is all I can determine via the intertubes.
Always included on my old mixtapes
how about that brass?
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