Back to the summer songs! This Belle & Sebastian track is a lovely one, one of the many overlooked gems in their catalog. They're the type of band that has such a consistently good repertoire, practically any song they've written as fair game for "favorite song" status. To be fair, they have had their share of missteps, primary in the early 2000's with the less than spectacular Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, and Storytelling. Like most If You're Feeling Sinister is my favorite record by them, but for the second I'd place their Push Barman to Open Old Wounds compilation. It consists of 4 EPs released from 1997 through 2001, and many of my favorite Belle & Sebastian songs are on it. I never understand the logic of bands releasing fantastic songs on EPs rather than saving them for a record, except maybe it's the bands equivlent of a waiter bringing out some complementary desert for a dear friend. A special treat for those non-casual fans who check out all of a band's releases. This way it won't be disappointing when an obsessee shells out a small fortune for an import only release and discovers the songs are throwaways at best.
This song, though lacking in songmeanings comments and last.fm scrobs, is far from a throwaway. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what it's about, as with a lot of B&S lyrics they are like personal tales that we can only guess to the implications. With this one I'm getting the underachiever gets off his ass, suddenly becomes driven for success and much to everyone's surprise becomes a hometown hero vibe. That and it's summer when it all happens.
Belle & Sebastian - I Know Where the Summer Goes
"I know where the summer goes
When you're having no fun
When you're under the thumb
I know where the summer dwells
If your underarm smells
And your kitchen looks like hell
I know where the summer goes
If you're scraping a pot, and your head is hot
Put your head down, put your thumbs up girl
With the smell of hot desk
And the glitter of your step
He was right, he's the upcoming guru of the city
No one told the city councillors
I know, you can tell me again
I've got my mobile phone
Full of silicon chips
No one likes a smart arse
But I've seen a pattern emerge
I will race you up the hill
Where the boy who made records out of postcard messages
And flowering cherries rain on kids like you
Look twice at the kid with the crimped
And overheated hair
They ran a book on his looks
Odds on was the noble pose and
The denim hard riff of the Irish Troubadour
But the boy came from nowhere to
Steal the hearts of lassies in the lavvies of the club tonight"
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