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Полуночный дыбр.
Демо-версия довольно грустной песни Стинга и "Police" - Don't Give Up Your Daytime Job. По-видимому, песня оказалась слишком "сырой" и недоработанной, для того, чтобы попасть в тщятельно продуманный альбом "Ghost in the Machine" 1981-го года. Между тем, песня хороша.
Главное достоинство песни - это её потрясающий и остроумный текст (на демо-версии, увы, слова не так легко разобрать). В этой вещи явно есть кое-какие автобиографические нотки. Стинг явно пишет о своих ранних творческих потугах: в песне парень пытается сочинять музыку, потом рисовать, затем пишет книгу. Но каждый раз, когда он приходит со своим творением к профессионалу (сначала - к продюссеру, потом - к владельцу галлереи, в конце - к издателю), тот вежливо объясняет ему, что его произведение - дрянь, советует не оставлять свою постоянную работу, чтобы не умереть с голода, затем выставляет героя песни вон.
Почему-то мне это напомнило ситуацию со мной и моим ЖЖ. :))
I havn't slept for three whole weeks
I'm burning the midnight oil
The piece of work has reached the stage
That sleep could only spoil
It was early morning in the fading light
My creation was not complete
The song that I composed alone
It was inside of me
The song would be my masterpiece
The one to make my name
Bring me immortality
Inside the hall of fame
Took it to my publisher
My heart was bursting with pride
"Listen very carefully"
Then took me aside
"Now listen son
I like your song
Its got a certain charm
But don't give up your daytime job
And you won't come to no harm"
Don´t give up your daytime job
Don´t give up your daytime job
Starting to devote my life
To painting and the arts
Leave the music world behind
To break that precious heart
I bought a brush and tube of paint
And a canvas of my own
Starting painting brick-a-brack
That lay around my home
The work would be my masterpiece
The one to make my name
Bring me immortality
Inside the hall of fame
Took it to a gallery
To see if they would buy
Turned my picture upside down
And then released a sigh
"Now Listen son
Don't get me wrong
Your talent is quite clear
Just don't give up your daytime job
And stay away from here"
Don't give up your daytime job
Don't give up your daytime job
I have to give expression
To the thought inside my head
I bought myself a writing pad
I'd write a book instead
I'd write my own biography
The story of my life
The day I started grammar school
To the day I met my wife
This book would be a masterpiece
The one to make my name
Bring me immortality
Inside the hall of fame
Took it to a publisher
He said,
"I'll read your book at home"
A week went by, I heard no news
And so I telephone
"I read as far as chapter three
Then I tore your book in half
Just don't give up your daytime job
And you won't ever starve"
Главное достоинство песни - это её потрясающий и остроумный текст (на демо-версии, увы, слова не так легко разобрать). В этой вещи явно есть кое-какие автобиографические нотки. Стинг явно пишет о своих ранних творческих потугах: в песне парень пытается сочинять музыку, потом рисовать, затем пишет книгу. Но каждый раз, когда он приходит со своим творением к профессионалу (сначала - к продюссеру, потом - к владельцу галлереи, в конце - к издателю), тот вежливо объясняет ему, что его произведение - дрянь, советует не оставлять свою постоянную работу, чтобы не умереть с голода, затем выставляет героя песни вон.
Почему-то мне это напомнило ситуацию со мной и моим ЖЖ. :))
I havn't slept for three whole weeks
I'm burning the midnight oil
The piece of work has reached the stage
That sleep could only spoil
It was early morning in the fading light
My creation was not complete
The song that I composed alone
It was inside of me
The song would be my masterpiece
The one to make my name
Bring me immortality
Inside the hall of fame
Took it to my publisher
My heart was bursting with pride
"Listen very carefully"
Then took me aside
"Now listen son
I like your song
Its got a certain charm
But don't give up your daytime job
And you won't come to no harm"
Don´t give up your daytime job
Don´t give up your daytime job
Starting to devote my life
To painting and the arts
Leave the music world behind
To break that precious heart
I bought a brush and tube of paint
And a canvas of my own
Starting painting brick-a-brack
That lay around my home
The work would be my masterpiece
The one to make my name
Bring me immortality
Inside the hall of fame
Took it to a gallery
To see if they would buy
Turned my picture upside down
And then released a sigh
"Now Listen son
Don't get me wrong
Your talent is quite clear
Just don't give up your daytime job
And stay away from here"
Don't give up your daytime job
Don't give up your daytime job
I have to give expression
To the thought inside my head
I bought myself a writing pad
I'd write a book instead
I'd write my own biography
The story of my life
The day I started grammar school
To the day I met my wife
This book would be a masterpiece
The one to make my name
Bring me immortality
Inside the hall of fame
Took it to a publisher
He said,
"I'll read your book at home"
A week went by, I heard no news
And so I telephone
"I read as far as chapter three
Then I tore your book in half
Just don't give up your daytime job
And you won't ever starve"
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