Lyrically Speaking - American Boy

"American Boy" - Estelle ft Kanye

[Kanye West:]

Just another one champion sound

Yeah, Estelle, we 'bout to get down (get down).

Who the hottest in the world right now.

Just touched down in London town.

Bet they give me a pound.

Tell them put the money in my hand right now.

Tell the promoter we need more seats,

We just sold out all the floor seats

[Chorus (Estelle):]

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day.

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA.

I really want to come kick it with you.

You'll be my American boy.

He said "Hey Sister.

It's really really nice to meet you."

I just met this 5 foot 7 guy who's just my type.

I like the way he's speaking his confidence is peaking.

Don't like his baggy jeans but I'mma like what's underneath them.

And no I ain't been to MIA

I heard that Cali never rains and New York's wide awake.

First let's see the west end.

I'll show you to my brethren.

I'm liking this American boy, American boy

[Chorus:]

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA.

I really want to come kick it with you.

You'll be my American boy, American boy

Can we get away this weekend?

Take me to Broadway.

Let's go shopping, baby, then we'll go to a café.

Let's go on the subway.

Take me to your hood.

I never been to Brooklyn and I'd like to see what's good.

Dress in all your fancy clothes.

Sneakers looking fresh to death, I'm loving those Shell Toes.

Walking that walk.

Talk that slick talk.

I'm liking this American boy, American boy.

[Chorus:]

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA.

I really want to come kick it with you.

You'll be my American boy

Let them know a gwan blud

[Kanye West:]

Who Killing 'em in the UK.

Everybody gonna say you K,

Reluctantly 'cause most of this press don't fuck with me.

Estelle once said to me, "Cool down, down, don't act a fool now, now."

I always act a fool oww oww.

Ain't nothing new now now.

He crazy, I know what ya thinking.

Ribena I know what you're drinking.

Rap singer. Chain Blinger.

Holla at the next chick soon as you're blinking.

What's your persona.

About this Americana Brama.

Am I shallow 'cause all my clothes designer.

Dressed smart like a London Bloke.

Before he speak his suit bespoke.

And you thought he was cute before.

Look at this peacoat, tell me he's broke.

And I know you ain't into all that.

I heard your lyrics I feel your spirit.

But I still talk that CASH.

'Cause a lot wags wanna hear it.

And I'm feeling like Mike at his Baddest.

Like The Pips at they Gladys.

And I know they love it.

So to hell with all that rubbish

Writer Credits - SPEIR, CALEB / HARRIS, KEITH ERNESTO / ADAMS, WILLIAM / WEST, KANYE OMARI / STEPHENS, JOHN ROGER / SWARAY, ESTELLE / LOPEZ, JOSHUA / WASHINGTON, KWELI EBON

I LOVE the lyrics of this song. So clever, and such great word play. The sung part is written like a rap too.

I like the way he's speaking his confidence is peaking.

Don't like his baggy jeans but I'mma like what's underneath them.

I like, I don't like, I like

I heard that Cali never rains and New York's wide awake.

IE "It never rains in southern california" and New Yourk being the city that never sleeps

Who Killing 'em in the UK.

Everybody gonna say you, K,

Reluctantly 'cause most of this press don't fuck with me.

Yes, he rhymes reluctantly with fuck with me!

Estelle once said to me, "Cool down, down,

don't act a fool now, now."

I always act a fool oww oww.

Ain't nothing new now now.

Repetition

Dressed smart like a London Bloke.

Before he speak his suit bespoke.

Word play in speak/bespoke

And I'm feeling like Mike at his Baddest.

Like The Pips at they Gladys.

Cultural references. Pips at their gladdest is beautiful.

Yes, Kanye is a dead set egotistical tool, but these lyrics are great, and reasonably CLEAN, too.

Lyrically Speaking - A Day In The Life

A Day In The Life - The Beatles

I want to specifically look at the middle eight.

Woke up, fell out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up I noticed I was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Found my way upstairs and had a smoke
And somebody spoke and I went into a dream

Writer credits Lennon & McCartney

I just love the "dragged a comb across my head", rather than saying "I combed my hair" he drags a comb across his head, like he did it, but not really caring how it looks as he's in such a rush.

Then he "drank a cup", being British in the sixties was likely a hot cup of tea, but he doesn't really need to say. Today it would be a cup of coffee. Whatever drink it is that we need in the morning to get ourselves going. 

I always loved the sentiment of those couple of lines, otherwise, I could spend ages analysing the rest of the song...

I'd love to tuuuuuurn youuuuuuuuu oooooooon!

Lyrically Speaking - Five Foot Two

Five Foot Two Eyes of Blue
(Has Anybody Seen My Gal?)

Five foot two, eyes of blue
But oh what those five foot could do
Has anybody seen my gal?

Turned up nose and turned down hose
Never had another beaus (or "Flapper, oh yes! One of those")
Has anybody seen my gal?

Now if you run into five foot two covered with fur
Diamond rings and all those things
Bet your life it isn't her...

Could she love could she woo
Could she could she could she coo
Has anybody seen my gal?

various writer credits depending on source and variation



Very typical 1920s style jazz, and a simple progression with 7th chords going backwards through the circle of fifths.

But there are some gems in the lyrics - diamond rings and all those things, get it? I love the "Turned up nose, turned down hose" line, not only with the up/down, but the reference to '20s style fashion of the flappers who used to turn down their hose (stockings) so they were visible under the short dresses.

I also adore the "could she could she could she coo" line, and how it sounds when sung. One of my favourite little lines!

True to form...

I have, as always, been irregular in my postings.

But I have been busy with other things.

I joined a NEW gym, and now go three times a week. More freedom than the old gym, and I can do classes like pilates if I like.

I have also gained a load of weight. Almost 15 kilos. That's about a 33% gain. Partially due to medication, and partically due to eating just about everything in sight.

The problem is, most of my wardrobe doesn't fit anymore. I've gone from a six to a ten. All those lovely dangerfield retro clothes, now too tight. Squishy squishy!

I sort of finished TAFE. Have put some things on hold till next year, but almost done. It's a bit of an anti-climax: I did all I planned to, but haven't actually passed yet.

I gave up dancing, but have started going to an art group instead. I'm doing some watercolours and just getting to try new techniques, and the ladies there are lovely. I had a couple of sketches in their little end of year exhibition, which was nice.

I will try to post a bit more!

The Elephant in The Room

I've been trying to do stuff every day. Let's just say that some days are more successful than others.

Unfortunately, just as I got into the swing of treating my depression, the holidays hit. This has meant no TAFE, the boys off at their dads, no school drop off or pick up, no dancing, no gym, and I'm also on leave from work.

I planned the holidays this way, because I'd intended to do work placement the whole time, but being unwell I just didn't have the energy, so that's been put off for a while.

The other problem with holidays, is that other people tend to do stuff, so while I'm at home, desperate for some sort of friendly human interaction beyond the empty greetings at the supermarket, everyone I know has been busy doing other things, with people who aren't me.

I can slowly feel myself turning into a hermit.

I have forced myself to go out. Do shopping, sort through my wardrobe, I even went to a party plan party last night, and bought myself a little something.

It doesn't fix it!

There is also a hell of a lot of stuff I have intended to do, that I just haven't been able to face.

A couple of weeks ago with the counsellor, just as we were wrapping up, she mentioned about how I should speak up and say what I want, that I don't have to say it's fine, or nevermind, or no that doesn't bother me at all, that I should say what I really want sometimes. That's something that I should do more.

Then the flood gates opened.

And out came the elephant in the room: That relationship.

All that time I couldn't speak up for my own needs, I gave chance after chance after chance, put up with some awful treatment. He had me convinced that if things wouldn't work with him, then they would never work with anyone else. He had me convinced that no one would love me the way he did. Had me convinced that all men other than him were bastards. I believed all of that. Never questioned it. Every time I ended it he managed to sneak back into my life, even if I was happy by myself.

I'm sure people who watched from the outside thought he was being unreasonable, that I didn't need that shit, and they told me so, but unless you're in it you don't understand. You don't know how much we love each other, how much we need each other, how I'm the only one who understands him, how lost he would be without me, how great things are when things are good.

OR

How difficult it is to leave an abusive relationship once you're entrenched, how he changes the way you see yourself, how he twists everything to be your own fault, how he charms his way back in, how he says it's only because he loves you so much, how he loves you more than anyone ever loved anyone else in the history of everything, even though he hurts you more than anyone ever has.

How you're only allowed to have your own opinion if it's the same as his opinion. How if you say what you really want, you'll be told it's wrong, or bad, or unreasonable. How everything becomes black and white, how he projects his own opinions and motivations on to everything you do, and how whataver you did was the wrong thing for the wrong reasons, no matter how many times you explain otherwise.

How when you're in a relationship where you can't do anything right, leaving is wrong too.

Even if it's what you really want.

We broke up 'for good' a year ago, but he snuck his way back in. Again.

I finally got him completely out of my life a few months or so ago, after a 'discussion' which involved him telling me I was, and I quote, fucked in the head for my beliefs, and how if I didn't stop talking that way he'd ring my dad to see what he had to say about me...

:-/ Words fail me.

Either way, after about four years of treading on eggshells and not speaking up for my own needs, I'm going to try to speak up more, try to say what I really want.

Try.

Convincing enough?

No more beating around the bush: No, I'm not OK.

There are so many euphemisms we use when describing depression.

I'm caught in the storm.
Fighting the black dog.
Stuck in a black hole.
In a bad spot.
Lost in a fog.
Not coping.
Being dragged underwater.
Swimming upstream.

There are many more.

Depression is like being in an emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive relationship with your own thoughts.

It is well known that abuse is never solved through silence. These figures of speech don't really help.

So, no more beating around the bush.

I AM DEPRESSED. Not just feeling blue, but suffering from depression.

After being in recovery for so long, I am depressed again.

There, I said it. In plain English.

I am not well.

At all...

...and to be honest I am scared out of my wits, because it has hit me without warning, totally unexpectedly, and especially because I'm doing everything right compared to six years ago.

I am actively engaged in my childrens' lives, I have wonderful social support networks, I am studying to improve myself and improve my future prospects, I work so I feel useful, I have control over my own finances and am doing extremely well for someone living on centrelink payments, I am looking after my house, I have clean dishes AND clean clothes, I exercise every week for my physical health, I do dancing purely for myself, I'm aware of what is going on in the world around me, and I have only healthy nurturing relationships.

But still, here I am.

Monday was an exhausting, but empowering day:

On Monday I admitted there was a problem.

I've been amazed at the response since. It's so overwhelming the support I've received, and from people I didn't expect, too. People have also said how I seem so calm and in control, and doing so well. I'm the one that has it all sorted.

Inside, though, I feel like that same person six years ago. Sad, empty, pathetic, hopeless, unworthy.

Except that this time I am absolutely determined NOT to let it ruin my life, I WILL NOT let depression destroy my life like it did last time.

Partly because I've fought it before, and partly because I have so much more to lose this time.

Yes, to say I'm scared is an understatement.

I share this without hope or expectation from anyone who reads it. I simply want you to know, because silence never helped anyone. Speaking out is the only way.

What is Recovery?

I guess the first question should be "What is depression?" a good friend of mine who is all sorts of awesome came up with a pretty good description in her blog post entitled "Depression is Crazy, Stupid, Dumb"

For me, depression was just nothingness, blackness, darkness, emptiness.. and anger, possibly due to the pretend happiness, because "What have I got to be depressed about?"

I have spent six years in recovery. The first two years were a hard fight. One where you're already exhausted from having spent four years in the middle of that dark storm cloud, just trying to get up every day, where you're losing every single day. Every. Single. Day. Then you start on that slow road towards the light, and you can't do it without help. You need an army behind you, because no matter how much "you deserve to be happy" you CAN NOT DO IT... JUST CAN NOT!!

Eventually you can do things without help, but you keep fighting, because if you stop fighting, the dark cloud WILL come back. You probably think of yourself as 'better' but the undercurrent is that you're still swimming, just not as much against the current as across it.

You proclaim to the world how much better things are. And they are. Honestly. ANYTHING has to be better than the blackness.

But that dark cloud is still there. It's just way off on the horizon. So far off, sometimes you forget it was ever there, you forget how hopelessly awful things were when you were caught in that storm, and of course you forget what an amazing job you did fighting it.

Now, the problem is, when you forget about depression, that's when it can creep up on you. If you're facing it dead in the eyes every day and have beat it before, you know you can beat it again, and you can put in place all the things to do it again, and to keep it at bay, but what if you don't notice?

I know I am better, in that I am a better person for having fought depression and come through the other side, but sometimes I forget. There is no CURE. There are better times, times when the good stuff outweighs the bad stuff, or when the good stuff makes me forget the bad stuff. Sometimes I need the good stuff in order to pretend the bad stuff isn't there. I don't know to what extent the good days are just me pretending. Subconsciously maybe? Self preservation? Denial?

Certainly things have never got even remotely close to how they were over six years ago when I was admitted to a mental health unit. I think it's easy to disregard how close the cloud may be when you've been in such a bad place.

It's all relative isn't it? But is it good compared to 'depression', or is it bad compared to 'happiness'?

Am I being melodramatic when I have a bad day because it's not nearly as bad as it used to be? If so, what if that bad day turns into a bad week, or a bad most of a month? Surely that's 'bad'?

But I'm kidding myself, surely, if I expect to be happy every single day. So, I take a day off here and there, I try to do the things I do, try to exercise, try to sleep well but not too much, I try to be around people, and try not to succumb, but also have to try not to pretend everything is rosey.

My name is Alex.
Six years ago I was hospitalised due to depression.
I had spent four years fighting, and losing.
I spent another two years fighting really hard to recover, with professional support.
I spent the next four years in an abusive relationship, but still improved despite that. That was JUST ME! ON MY OWN!
I still have bad days, but mostly have good days.
Regardless of whether it is a good day or not, I still fight every single day.
Every. Single. Day.
And... I am awesome!