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Song of the Week Number 2 – ‘Dress Gordon Nightmare’ by the Mad Flight

Two songs of the week this week! This song is brought to you by the Mad Flight, just in time for their show with the Long Shadows and Sleeping in the Aviary at the 529, only $5.

So go to the show! Until then, check out this song, ‘Dress Gordon Nightmare’ by the Mad Flight…

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From Paul Cantrell on the song,

‘“Dress Gordon Nightmare” is a song inspired by a shirt I have. The song reminds me of T. S. Eliot—himself, not his writings—who, through some mislaid nostalgia masquerading as Anglophilia, actually convinced himself that he was British—became a royal subject, the whole bit. (Incidentally, the feeling in question is also a common side-effect of reading too much T. S. Eliot, particularly in autumn.) I’ve seen a similar nostalgia in the preoccupation with certain New England clothing catalogs. I’m no political historian, but I can see an irony in fetishizing England through New England, especially by way of some Scotch-Irish highlander clansmen tartan pattern.

Most of the words are there because I liked the way they sounded and figured that those sounds had some internal logic of their own. I never sat down to write a song about some fictitious late-night bar-bred romantic misadventure as a vehicle for a postcolonial critique of imperialism or some such. I’m not qualified for that. Still, those situations may share a certain peculiar power dynamic, and each may instill a similarly misplaced nostalgia. Anyway, I still wear the shirt sometimes.

While writing the song, I found this video which may have influenced the mood in some indirect ways. If you start the song and then start the video with the sound off, they match up in some nice, unexpected ways, especially if you repeat the video when it ends. The windshield wipers and the waves beat and crash in time. “Stroll the avenue” cuts from elderly couples doing just that to military marches. There’s a moment when it even looks like the marchers are singing along. I wish I could say I’d done it on purpose.’

Lyrics:

O my dear my we’re a wreck and why

We’re waxing over records in

These accents we affected hours before

The caravan behind the bar

I couldn’t say who parked the car

What hands could ever have unlocked this door

And you’re gonna listen to me

But I guess you never mean it

Talk about the movie

And I’ll tell you if I’ve seen it

I was on the couch, you were on the floor

Trying to figure out what you’re doing it for

You were on the couch, I was on it too

Now I’m on the floor, seemed the thing to do

And I can slip inside of this

Dress Gordon nightmare

I can memorize the spine

Of any book you’ll ever buy

So roll me out at noon

We can stroll the avenue

In some retirement credit card commercial

We’ll settle on Japan

But when it’s autumn and

We’re British, when it’s autumn and we’re British

We forget to give a damn

We’ve got stamps on wrists and hands

The night’s admittances still branded

On us as twin tattooed files

Figure out the sink myself

Kill the mouthwash, raid the shelf

And raise a bottle to your health

And you want to listen to me

But I bet you never mean it

Talk about the movie

And I’ll tell you if I’ve seen it

I was on the couch, you were on the floor

Trying to figure out what you’re doing it for

You were on the couch, I was on it too

Now I’m on the floor, seemed the thing to do

And I can slip inside of this

Dress Gordon nightmare

I can memorize the spine

Of every book you’ll ever buy

Rifle through your catalogues

Right up to the cattle call

May your recitation save us all

But I was in a dream, you were in it too

Couldn’t find a drink or a thing to do

I was in a dream, you were in it too

Couldn’t find a drink or a thing to do

So roll me out at noon

We’ll stroll the avenue

In some retirement credit card commercial

We’ll settle on Japan

But when it’s autumn and

We’re British, when it’s autumn and we’re British

O won’t you…

Roll me out at noon

We can stroll the avenue

In some retirement credit card commercial

They’ll never understand

That when it’s autumn and

We’re British, when it’s autumn and we’re British

We forget to give a damn