Elbow Room

I was hoping to get the first Elbow reference in here, but my usual procrastination has meant I tried and failed, with my muchmoreorganised wife having beaten me to the punch.
But hey, I'm the first poster of December, so that's something, eh? Errr...

For anyone who's asked, and some who haven't, Elbow's Leaders of The Free World is my album of the year. A band, from Manchester [well, Bury, but hastily relocated to Manchester... you get my drift], mates of Doves and so on. And it's fantastic. The lyrics are extraordinary, clever, sophisticated, and meaningful, individual even. I'd been aware of their previous releases, and had liked them, but this one...? This is something special. Really special.

So, anyway... we saw Elbow last week at Manchester Apollo, and it was a hugely emotional evening for me. I think it was the fact that it was the Wednesday I got THE ENVELOPE, so suddenly my emigration was finalised, and I'd be leaving the city I grew up in and have always lived in or within 10 miles of...

Somehow it felt like my gig, as they began with "Station Approach", which references Piccadilly Station, and seems to speak of me, my relationships, of my town and my place in it:

I haven’t been myself of late
I haven’t slept for several days but
Coming home I feel like I
Designed these buildings I walk by

You know you drive me up the wall
I need to see your face that’s all
You little sod I love your eyes
Be everything to me tonight

The streets are full of Goths and Greeks
I haven’t seen my mum for weeks but
Coming home I feel like I
Designed these buildings I walk by

You know you drive me up the wall
I need to see your face that’s all
You little sod I love your eyes
Be everything to me tonight

I never know what I want but I know when
I’m low that I need to be in the town
Where they know what I’m like and don’t mind.

To me, it speaks of my melancholy, my tendency to regard the glass as half-empty, my poor sleep pattern, and my numerous strange little ways [ hope no-one's feeling too uncomfortable here]. But it also speaks of my awareness of it [so that's OK then. Phew! Relax!].

The fact that my mother was in Australia for 6 weeks at the time [and that the pressure to see her more, continually weighs heavily upon me in the way only a son's guilt can], and that I'd dedicated it to Claudine on the way back to Skipton a few weeks back [awwww!].

Yes, especially the "You know you drive me up the wall..."
Who says the English can't express their emotions?

p.s. I love you, Claudine!