QotD: Top 5 Break-Up Songs

What are your top five break-up songs?

(originally posted on 5 May 2008. Replacing the videos, due to Vox closure, and updating because of – fuck it – two deaths.)

Break up songs.  Ambiguous, QotD, ambiguous.

Songs about the heartbreak of losing love?

Songs about how much of a bitch she was, the shit he did, how it ain’t your fault?

Songs that say Fuck You to the pain?

Surely, dear god, you did not want me to pick the five songs that I wanted to be playing, in the background, of that plush restaurant.  You know, the one you took me to, and I was all excited because I thought it was gonna be, like, down on one knee ring-time and the waiter took our orders and we had champagne – champagne! – and then you told me it wasn’t me, it was you, and you needed space, and a little time to think and don’t cry and don’t be upset…

In no particular order, here are five six songs I feel cover the spectrum of break up.

Oh Amy.  You have had the voice of an angel and the habits of – well, bad ones.

You went back to what you knew
So far removed from all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I’ll go back to black

A troubled track indeed.  I hope you survives to make more records of angst and pain. Well, damn. I still miss the fact no more music from Ms Winehouse.

I like Mike Skinner.  He can write some real stonking good music.

Then he turns out this beautiful ballad about when love ends, when She says goodbye.

Dry your eyes mate
I know it’s hard to take but her mind has been made up
There’s plenty more fish in the sea
Dry your eyes mate
I know you want to make her see how much this pain hurts
But you’ve got to walk away now
It’s over

Oddly, in the video the person delivering this homily is his dog.

He says I need a little time.  And she says Piss off.

Or words to that effect.

I’ve had a little time to find the truth
Now I’ve had a little room to check what’s wrong
I’ve had a little time and I still love you
I’ve had a little

You had a little time and you had a little fun
Didn’t you, didn’t you
While you had yours do you think I had none
Do you, do you
The freedom that you wanted bad
Is yours for good I hope you’re glad

A twist in the tail.  A satisfying one.

 

A Fuck You song with real attitude.

Tell that boy to leave. Right now.  And don’t pull any punches, either – he’ll just get the wrong idea.

To the left
To the left
Everything you own in the box to the left
In the closet that’s my stuff
Yes if I bought it nigga please don’t touch
And keep talking that mess, that’s fine
But could you walk and talk at the same time
And it’s my my name that is on that Jag
So remove your bags
Let me call you a cab.

Whitney, Whitney.  If only you could follow had followed your own advice.

It’s not right but it’s OK
I’m gonna make it anyway
Pack your bags up and leave
Don’t you dare come running back to me
It’s not right but it’s OK
I’m gonna make it anyway
Close the door behind you
Leave your key
I’d rather be alone than unhappy

(yes, I know that’s a Thunderpuss remix.  No, I have no idea why they are called Thunderpuss.  They just are,  And, fuck, Whitney can could sing when she wanted to)

And how could I end a post on Break Up Songs without this one.  The classic.  One New Years Eve, in a crowded pub, this came on and, with very little hesitation, every woman there stood and sang along.  Solidarity.  This is the song you play when you have just split with him, and you and your girl friends are sitting there, eating the comfort food of choice, drinking cheap wine, and calling him a bastard.

QotD: My First Flight

Do you remember your first flight? Where did you go? Why?
Submitted by Laurel.

My first flight.  London to Bangkok via Moscow flying Aeroflot. 

It was 1976.  I was 21 and travelling with Little David, who I had been going out with for four years (ever since he rescued me and my possessions from the Scientologists at East Grinstead – but that's a story for another time).  1976, for those of us who remember was  a "What A Scorcher" summer (sorry, came over all Sun newspaper-y then, don't know why!).  London when hot is unbearable.  So we fled the country on Our Round The World Trip.  Currency regulatons also meant we could only take £150 out of the coutry with us. 

So, with a packpack and £150 each, we set off to explore the world.  Arrived Heathrow, checked our bags, then they checked our hand luggage.  The flight attendants were memorable in themselves – one was small and delicate and pretty, while the other looked as though she could have been a Russian athlete specialising in Toss The Hammer, or Sling the Shot.  Huge does not cover someone as meaty as this lady was.  It was she who insisted we all sit at the front of the plane.  It was she who refused to help when the zip on my jeans burst.

Flying into Moscow was amazing.  I had a window seat and all I could see, for about an hour, was dark green forest interspersed with sparkly blue lakes.  Amazing and beautiful.  Why do I doubt it is still llike that?  It looked pristine and gorgeous.

Waiting at Moscow for our onward flight meant sitting in the barest departure lounge I have ever seen since.  The few shops were shut, and the few Russians around were mostly looking askance at a group of young Americans or Canadians (look, I cannot tell the difference over a distance of – oh my god I have just realised – 30 years, ok), some of who had guitars they were playing, and all of whom were singing.

When they called our flight, I was first in the queue. I wanted away from the boring concrete jungle I was trapped in.  Got to the desk and say "Bookmole  British".  Now this was in the days of the deep maroon passport with gold lettering on – very distinctive.  Oh no.  No Passport for Me.  No Passport for Little David either.  They had guns and they had them pointed at us.  If I say I was shitting myself, I am not exaggerating.  I am English and this was 30 years ago – I had never seen a gun in real life and had not expected to get one pointed at me here, of all places.  And here was looking more and more like a bad place to have a gun pointed at you.

It was not until three more people from the flight had no passports that the Russion Security decided to check the tiny detail of Are These The Correct Passports for This Flight – thankfully, it appeared I was not going to spend the next few years of my life in a Russian prison.

Arrived at Bangkok tired, dirty and excited to be in such a different part of the world.

And it wasn't until I later, as I went through my handbag (which had been checked at Heathrow, Moscow and Bangkok airports) that I wondered – What is in that film canister? 

Nearly shit myself again when I realised it contained a one-ounce lump of cannabis resin, black and potent stuff, which I had meant to give to a friend before I left, but had just forgotten about.  Forgotten completely.  Which was lucky for me – that prison cell in Moscow was oh so much nearer than I had thought at the time.

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QotD: Endings

Do you think it's true that "All good things must come to an end?"

Well, we all fucking die. So yes.

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QotD: The Art of Communication

Do you prefer communicating via phone, text message or email? Does using a certain one change your behavior? (I.e. Is it easier to flirt via text than over the phone? Are you more business like in email etc.?

Sorry – had to delete the advert. Why had ad blockers and then let QotD put ads in?

Preferred method of communication – lying around, getting stoned, having a glass of wine, being face to face. Really – all the other methods fall far, far short.

It could be my age, it could be preference. Dunno. I just like being with my friends.

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QotD: At the Playground

Swings, see-saw, merry-go-round, slides… something else? What was your favorite activity at the playground when you were a kid?

I hated the playground. Being bullied does that. But I think the best bit of equipment was the Witches Hat. I used to sit on the top of that and freak out the teachers. They never noticed the pinches, the kicks, the unkind words, the blood – but they noticed when THEY might get in trouble.

Funny that..

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QotD: “To teach is to learn twice.” ~Joseph Joubert, Pensées, 1842

If you had to teach something, what would you teach

I want to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony.
I don’t wanna buy the world a coke – but do you know how fucking hard it is to listen to this song and not sing I’d like to buy the world a Coke! Good branding!

But seriously – if the whole world was in harmony, would that not be fucking amazing? If no one got shot for having a different skin colour, if no one got raped, if no one starved while others threw food away – would that not be wonderful and amazing and a worthwhile thing to work towards?

 

Oh, and buy a coke on the way out…

 

Sorry. It’s that branding.

QotD: To Infinity and Beyond!

Are you interested in intergalactic travel? What would you hope to discover?
Presented by Intel, Sponsors of Tomorrow.

Sometimes, QotD, your memory loss astounds me.

OK.

I want to be on this ship, with this man. We will search the galaxy for intelligent life. We will have adventures. We may have sex (depends on him, really. I am totally ready to sleep with him!).

But seriously. We need to get into space. We should NEVER have stopped with a dozen footprints on the Moon. We should be mining asteroids by now!

I have, QotD, said it before, but I will say it again. In, oh, 5 billion years or so, our sun will suddenly expand to be larger than the orbit of Jupiter. Sure don't wanna be here when that happens! So, unless we are going to have a short lifespan as a species ( and that's looking more and more likely the longer we abuse this planet ), we had better shift our arses.

Make it so.

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