Not a single song, but a group. One of my favourites, although I don't know much about them (although I don't know much about music). I tried to find out more, but I must admit the official web site was very confused. So I asked to that person who introduced them to me, anyway, the one guy I know who knows them (or at least I thought so...)
¿What do you know about Metric?, I asked him by msn. "I know they're canadians. And they play indie music. Soft rock." That's it? Yes, that was all. I realized I didn't need anything else to get to like their music. Rock, with a female voice. Soft. Fragile and rough at the same time. Something I remembered, but I wasn't sure of what was that, something wasn't like it used to be. Urban, melodic. Sometimes grey, and some other moments very happy, even sexy. About the (our) city. Urban music, about places we once were and sometimes we'd like to go back (place as a space with memories on it). A little bit nostalgic, but never sad. When I listened to it for the first time it was joy and enthusiasm, unknown adventures around streets and parks I didn't know, only on my dreams, very late at night, worried because I had homeworks to do.
Sometimes you love, and you learn, and you move on. And it's good to know that moving on it's ok. Maybe the best part, and if there's music with you, better yet.
Raw Sugar
by Metric
album: Grow Up and Blow Away (2002)
Sort of wonder why no one said a word
Don't you like it on the sly? Don't you like it till it hurts?
Have I been on your mind? What's a voice without a song?
Something in your head you've been fighting all along
I don't want to say it, the news is not so good
We'll never get away, and even if we could
We'd just play the tambourine around an open flame
Oversleep and burn to be back in the game
'Cause summer never comes, nowhere near high noon
And winter never comes, nor the harvest moon
Raw sugar (save that date)
I don't want to die living in a high-rise grave
I’ll pray to call home
Save that date
High-rise grave
Raw sugar
I don't want to die living in a high-rise grave
I’ll pray to call home
Save that date
High-rise grave
No I'm not complaining, yes it could be worse
Ferment on the wishbone, match the lips to the purse
Neighbourhood’s a runway, fry the ass and thighs
Dirty denim dealers, pushed behind the ires
And summer never comes, nowhere near high noon
And winter never comes, nor the harvest moon
Raw sugar
I don't want to die living in a high-rise grave
I’ll pray to call home
Save that date
High-rise grave
Raw sugar
I don't want to die living in a high-rise grave
I’ll pray to call home
Save that date
High-rise grave
Still I wear the red dress, paint my toes and twirl
Take it back to old times when I was still a girl
'Cause now I'm all baboon boys, coochie-coochie-coo
Sort of wondered why, I missed a kiss for you
'Cause summer never comes (save that date)
(High-rise grave)
Winter never comes
(High-rise grave)
'Cause summer never comes (save that date)
(High-rise grave)
Winter never (summer never)
Comes (save that date)
Summer never comes, summer never comes
