Drink The Young Wine

Here's a Red Atlas song. It's difficult to date Atlas songs, they just sort of build bit by bit like silt deposits in an Ox-Bow lake. Or something else that I half remember from Geography lessons. This one is our "slowie" and has actually been played, never well, live. Our live set is usually fairly high-octane, as well as being discordant and too loud and lumpily all over the shop. It has all the hallmarks of a Red Atlas song: references to drinking, St. John of the Cross, Shakespeare and bad puns.

There is a notional set of references to the First World War but really it's about me. That's right I'm comparing the suffering of millions to my own depression. I'm not totally insensitive: I could have named it Spanish Flu.

The title is ripped off from the Surrealists. It's an homage. It's an homage.

Drink The Young Wine,


Though I still question it,
I still sometimes believe,
In the dark night of the soul,
Licking shadows can decieve,
Here's the burden of the proof,
Time to take the strain,
One hundred per cent proof,
The last drop I drain,

Drink the young wine,
Drink the long draft down,
Drink the young wine,
In the Malmsy butt you drown,

A telegram from over-seas,
Oh brother please just...stop,
We are lions lead by donkeys,
Or is that over the top,
Here's the burden of the proof,
Time to take the strain,
One hundred per cent proof,
The last drop I drain,

By the way,
Bide away,
In the sunlight of those endless hours, wasting

The Drunkest Man in the Room

This is another Club of Queer Trades "number" and therefore it was written in 2010 as I suspect all of them were. 2010 was a bumper year for me in terms of songwriting and personal devastation, writing upwards of 60 songs, most of them for The Club. Drinking is one of the mainstays of my ouvre and public and private drunkeness is one of my areas of expertise. Not that I'm an expert drinker my any means; I've always been rubbish at it, as I was at smoking when I gave that a go. I'm currently viceless, not even snuff at parties. This is why:



The Drunkest Man in the Room

I came here to party but the party's petered out
I'm drinking alone in the coat room
the hum of strangers; a strip of light under the door
I'll need another drink soon

A fat couple burst in from the party
she's flushed, he's amorous
I try to speak, slur my words, spill my drink
it's less than glamorous

Once again the drunkest man in the room
A fixed point, the party pivot
Always drinking to forget my life
And my failed attempts to live it

How much I drink, well, it's staggering
‘Round the room with my glass
Around the room with my top up
An own goal from a pretty pass

I'm John and I'm the party pole-star
My light is growing dim
Everybody navigates around me
"At least I'm not as pissed as him"

Once again the drunkest man in the room
A fixed point; the party pivot
Always drinking to forget my life
And my failed attempts to live it

I really like the flavour
I savour every drop
I like what drink does to me
I just can’t seem to stop
I've got a decent palette
And I can be a snob
I sleep upon the sofa
With wine stains around my gob
Once again the drunkest man in the room
A fixed point; the party pivot
Always drinking to forget my life
And my failed attempts to live it