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BOB-17 Sunday Night (archway archive)
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Another recently unearthed analogue recording in soft-folk-rock vein... guitar, bass, mandolins .. and that old fold-up harmonium again.
pop rock fun jazz folk blues eclectic country contemporary singersongwriter london mandolin soft rock sixties accoustic seventies cambridge martyn humourous
Artist picture
Singer-songwriter, arranger and producer: acoustic contemporary folk but ranging into rock/blues/country/jazz/humour...all very eclectic, I'm afraid!
Martin Stirrup Singer/songwriter An old folkie who got back into it... These days I sing and play guitar(s) and other stringed instruments, then score and orchestrate where appropriate. My taste becomes increasingly eclectic ranging from finger-picked folk through country to soft rock mixed in with a few more alternative and eccentric numbers, including the odd novelty foxtrot...
Song Info
Genre
Acoustic • Acoustic Folk
Charts
Peak #431
Peak in subgenre #34
Author
Martin Stirrup
Rights
Martin Stirrup
Uploaded
January 18, 2013
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.9 MB • 160 kbps • 4:16
Story behind the song
my blurb from 'The Album that Never Was' The early days of marriage in relative poverty in New Cross – no TV, we lived on mince at 11d a pound, used paraffin heaters and the rent was £6 a week – it was great! This is another analogue venture with Roger Brawn and features a mandolin and mandola introduction. It also has Roger Wagner and Steve Franks on backing vocals. Sadly the quality of my tape had deteriorated badly and there is even some overprinting from the following loop of tape…. Maybe Roger B has a pristine copy still and I can redigitise it sometime… and my wish came true... Roger did unearth and digitise the original - though his guitar part appears to have gone missing. At least it doesn't sound like we're playing in haunted airlock...
Lyrics
The night is old and folding but another day is near The day of gold has slipped away but still its shadow’s here Among the books and curtains images of a room Shadows are fading soon to be extinguished You sip your tea and read aloud you say it helps you think I watch TV without a sound and let my troubles sink A cat of ill repute is tiptoeing up the stairs Sitting on the best chairs trying to look distinguished Sunday night’s alright for doing the things you want to do Sunday night’s alright with you Sunday night’s alright for doing the things you want to do Sunday night’s alright with you The fire is low and going down but no-one seems to care The wind and snow are blowing round winter is everywhere The blankets on the floor will keep us warm enough Fit us like a glove keep us together So come on leave your study now you want to I can see Don’t let some fuddy duddy now keep you away from me Nestle in my arms and show me you really care Come and let down your hair, break that tether Sunday night’s alright for doing the things you want to do Sunday night’s alright with you Sunday night’s alright for doing the things you want to do Sunday night’s alright with you
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