NDC Throwback Thursday Genre: Britpop Theme: Working Class ---------------------------------------------------- [Intro – jangly electric guitar, loose drums, slightly cheeky bassline, spoken-sung vocal; detached but vivid] Grey sky hanging off the railway bridge Pigeons on the betting shop ridge Mum says, “Don’t slouch when you speak” But the whole street drags by on tired feet Milk crates stacked by the off-licence door Same old dog on the laminate floor Bins all bloom in the Sunday heat And the buses sigh down our crooked street [Verse 1 – bouncy Britpop groove, melodic bass movement, vocal half-bored half-proud] I was born into the smell of chip fat rain Peeling posters and a window pane Kids kicking cans by the chemist wall Dreaming of nothing much at all Got my name from my granddad’s side Got his knuckles and his walk and pride Got this accent I can’t wash out Like nicotine and a football shout [Pre-Chorus – drums tighten, chords lift slightly, more melodic vocal with a trace of yearning] And they laugh when I open my mouth Like the map of the town spills out Every vowel’s a row of terraces Every sentence says where I live [Chorus – bigger, brighter, singalong, guitars open up but keep a scruffy charm] I was born into it Brick dust, bike chains, council light Born into it Blue smoke, bruise sky, Saturday night You can dress it up in magazine lines But it still comes through in the way I smile I was born into it And I wear it well sometimes [Verse 2 – back to tight groove, more observational, playful phrasing and character detail] There’s beauty in the underpass tiles In the cracked concrete and the supermarket aisles In a girl with bleach in her fringe and eyes Like she’s seen ten years go by The launderette hums like a soft refrain A siren sings through the retail park rain Some boys lean where the phone box stood Looking famous in a way they could [Pre-Chorus – slightly fuller, rising tension, melodic bass pushes forward] You can leave for a cleaner town Learn to talk with the edges shaved down But the mirror knows, the mirror keeps All the local ghosts beneath [Chorus – fuller and more confident, gang vocals on key phrase] I was born into it Brick dust, bike chains, council light Born into it Blue smoke, bruise sky, Saturday night You can pose in all your borrowed style But home still walks beside you mile by mile I was born into it And I wear it well sometimes [Bridge – more stripped back at first, almost spoken; then builds with tension and irony] They said, “Get out while you’re still young” Like this place was a stain or a loaded gun But the stain’s in the saints and the streetlamp glow In the pub quiz names and the faces I know And I’m bored to death, yeah, bored to tears Of the same four shops and the same cheap beers But it’s mine, all mine, this elegant mess This bored little kingdom in polyester dress [Instrumental Break – wiry guitar lead, playful but wistful, bass carries melody, drums loose and live] [Final Chorus – most anthemic, energetic, layered backing vocals, triumphant but not too polished] I was born into it Brick dust, bike chains, council light Born into it Blue smoke, bruise sky, Saturday night Laugh all you like at the things I hide The town’s still stitched into my stride I was born into it And I wear it well tonight [Outro – groove continues, repeated hook, ad-libs, slightly shambolic finish] Born into it Born into it With the grey sky fit and the market grin Yeah, I was born into it Born into it And the whole dull world comes shining in [End]
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