HAPPILY
EVER AFTER
The more positive and life-affirming companion to Once Upon a Time — with the occasional dark cloud still drifting across the sky.
Robb Johnson and The Irregulars.
ABOUT HAPPILY EVER AFTER
We were really pleased with this album. I think it complements Once Upon a Time nicely, being generally a happier set of songs.
Initially, we recorded sixteen songs and decided to release them across two albums.
The first, Once Upon a Time, was intended to contain the more negative songs, while the second, Happily Ever After, would contain the more positive, life-affirming songs.
But then the first album seemed a bit short, as though it lacked a song, so we moved Feast of Fools from the second album to the first.
That left the second album with only seven songs, so we decided to record three more in November on our way to a benefit for the Ropetackle Arts Centre in Shoreham.
I wanted to include Dreams, Rupert Says and When Tottenham Burned, which I'd written over the summer.
The album is darkened a little by having When Tottenham Burned on it. Thematically, it probably belongs on the first album.
But then again, I hope Happily Ever After always has an undertow of irony and qualification about it, so perhaps the song simply adds to the complexity.
Although I know that what I do is often thought of in terms of being political and/or lyric-based, I've also always enjoyed playing electric guitar in noisy bands at gigs where complete strangers have a good time and get up and dance.
Which is what happens with The Irregulars.
Some people complain that they can't hear the words. And it's true that more people laugh when I play Rupert Says acoustically than when I play it with the band.
TRACK LIST
Ten songs on Happily Ever After.
- Roll This Stone
- Hey Abbie
- When Tottenham Burned
- Rupert Says
- Dreams
- Cinderella
- All I Wanna Do
- Takeaway Girl
- The Rendezvous Des Artistes
- Happily Ever After
WATCH
Watch this video connected with Happily Ever After.
BACKSTORIES
Roll This Stone
I wrote this the morning after a really lovely gig in a really lovely pub, The Square and Compass in Worth Maltravers.
I stepped out of the doorway of the pub, and there was this song waiting for me.
I finished the first draft over a very nice vegetarian breakfast in the Little Chef at the St Leonard's roundabout, just before you get to Ringwood.
Hey Abbie
Abbie Hoffman — inspirational.
I read his books when I was researching my bit of the Yoko Ono biography.
The film about him is definitely best avoided, though.
When Tottenham Burned
We were at Broadstairs Festival. One day suddenly all the newspapers had bright orange front pages and headlines like “Anarchy in the UK”.
It was interesting to see how the events of that weekend were presented and understood in the media and by politicians, and how society and those who pride themselves on being “our leaders” fell over themselves to accept no responsibility for the obvious fact that large sections of society felt profoundly alienated.
No-one seemed to want to acknowledge Martin Luther King's observation that a riot is the language of the unheard.
I spent a lot of time on this song.
At one point it was supposed to be very loud, with a riff that sounded a lot like Gimme Danger by The Stooges.
Then I thought it would work better as something closer to a tragic narrative ballad.
Rupert Says
I actually wrote this in 2011 when Rupert got custard-pied.
And here we were in 2012, with the Leveson Inquiry still rumbling on and — surprise, surprise — an actual Sun on Sunday, vast numbers of which seemed to lie around unsold.
Dreams
I started writing this on an aeroplane from Seattle to San Francisco.
It was based on a dream I had about coming home to my family, then a couple I saw on the train to the airport finished off the first verse.
I was looking down at the planet and thinking about all the dreams going on — little dreams of people like me, big dreams of people like Martin Luther King.
I was reading a fine book about Johnny Cash's commitment to Native American rights, set against the wider civil-rights movement of the 1950s and 60s.
That's how Rosa Parks came in to finish the second verse.
Cinderella
This is sort of a companion piece to Prince Charming from Once Upon a Time.
The Wall comes down, but nobody quite lives as happily ever after as they thought they would.
All I Wanna Do
We played at the Dunkerque Festival, which starts off as a lovely cheery family event and then evolves into a lovely cheery beery event with much urinating in the streets.
There are lots of different stages for different bands.
We noticed that our audience had been somewhat transient: a steady stream of people coming, watching, then moving on. Only a small group of Bangladeshi seafarers stayed for most of the set.
Was it us?
No. The same thing was happening at all the stages.
But we noticed that the kind of music that held people's attention longest had a very steady four-square beat and encouraged clapping along.
So, in the event of ever being asked back, I decided we should have that sort of song in the repertoire — just in case we needed something inebriated French people could obviously clap along to.
Takeaway Girl
Another fairly cheerful song.
It sounds like a simple three-chord trick, but actually there are four chords and it doesn't start with the chord I'd normally start with.
The Rendezvous des Artistes
I wrote this in one of my favourite Paris bars, Au Rendez-Vous Des Artistes in the Place de Clichy.
I like it partly because of where it is. It's a good place to sit and watch the night fall all the way along the Boulevard de Rochechouart.
The song once had a middle eight to that effect, but when we did it with the band the middle eight just seemed to hold things up rather than add anything.
I also liked the place because of its pinball table and its traditional Turkish-style toilets.
When I first started going to Paris, both were standard features in the vast majority of bars.
Sadly, the last time I was there, the pinball table had vanished.
Next time I'm there, I shall check the plumbing with no little trepidation.
Happily Ever After
Another dream kick-started this.
I dreamt I had stopped off at a motorway service station — which may well have been Heston Services on the M4 — and there was my old mate Huggy Harewood, who'd played bass in the band I'd worked with for most of the 1990s.
Instead of his usual battered old Transit full of battered old band gear, he was standing next to a small family car full of his family.
Special mention should be made of John Forrester's splendid vocal harmony at the very end.
LYRICS FROM THE ALBUM
Open a song below to read its lyrics.
Roll This Stone Along
The sun upon my left hand, the moon upon my right
I step out of this doorway into the moving light
The deep blue sea before me as bright as any day
The blackbirds on the phone lines to sing me on my way
Roll this stone along
The sun is hearts & promises that haven't broken yet
The road you haven't travelled, the friends you haven't met
The moon is for remembrance, the ghost of who you are
The silver on your fingers, your tattoos & your scars
The deep blue sea's the deep blue sea, all mystery & chance
Your mobile phone don't work here, it's all just song & dance
The singing in the darkness, the dancing in the light
The sun upon my left hand, the moon upon my right
Hey Abbie
I found the revolution in a pound shop down in Brighton
The Abbie Hoffman movie, well & truly underground
It did not look worth stealing so I gave the shop my one pound
Got maybe halfway through before I played guitar instead
Hey Abbie, I stole this song for you
I stole it from my good friend Charles,
who wrote it in some Thailand bar
When travelling was forever, & never coming back
& they was kicking them out in Saigon like
they been kicking them out in Baghdad
The weathermen may look different, but
the weather's not much changed
Yippies turned to yuppies & your good friend Jerry Rubin
May well have seen the future, but not that car that hit him
& what would Brother Bobby Seale say?
There's a black man in the White House
Some things may change colour, let's ask Michael Jackson
Hey, hey Abbie Hoffman, you deserved a better movie
Not some televised love story with some newsreel here & there
Hey, hey Abbie Hoffman, you just took too many drugs, man
But you also took Chicago, & The Pentagon, it rose into thin air.
When Tottenham Burned
Cops shot Mark Duggan on a Thursday night
When his family asked why, they never said a word
When they still said nothing Saturday night
Tottenham burned
Cops stood & watched as the flames took hold
Chavs & gangsters, let 'em all burn
But the flames spread out of their control
When Tottenham burned
The fire spread east, south, west & north
Anywhere where the future's just a mobile phone
& there's shops full of shit no-one can afford
They all burned
You try living on a minimum wage
How little you're worth, how little you earn
Faces of the poor finally made the front page
When Tottenham burned
& the fire took
Trevor Ellis, Richard Bowes,
Shazad Ali, Abdul Musavir, Haroon Jahan
Politicians flew home eventually
When Tottenham burned
6 months in prison for taking some water
5 months in prison for keeping some clothes
Bet they all slept safe & sound in Eton
When Tottenham burned
Rupert Says
We're not sorry for the garbage
We're not sorry for the mess
For that travesty of freedom
The freedom of the press
The cant & bile we printed
The cant & bile you bought
We're just sorry we got caught
Rupert says, sorry we got caught
We're not sorry for the gossip
& the nasty right-wing views
The antics of some footballers
Fobbed off on you as news
With the morals of a chequebook
Just add another nought
We're not sorry for the jingo
The wars that we supported
We're not sorry, we played bingo
While the truth went unreported
With a lack of any big words
That might cause a moment's thought
Of course we've learned our lesson
Although we're not to blame
Here comes The Sun on Sunday
Of course it's not the same
No more sports & celebrities
We got celebrities & sports
We'd like to say we're sorry
Sorry that we lied
Actually we're sorry
We got custard-pied
What a waste of money
those governments we bought
Dreams
Watching at the window, running through the rain
Crossing the border, coming home again
Rest your head upon my shoulder, lean against me on the train
It doesn't matter we get older, I will love you just the same
Dreams, all these dreams…
Standing on the mountain with Martin Luther King
Standing at the riverside to hear Robeson sing
Imagine when you're weary you can sit down where you like
& when the cops arrest you the whole town goes on strike
It's just a little planet spinning round in space
Every day another revolution taking place
Such a little planet, such a lot of stars
Who'd have thought we'd ever get this far?
Cinderella
Cinderella lives in East Berlin
It doesn't matter what state you're in
What have you got to lose now?
All those gorillas in their urban zoo
Every Baader needs a Meinhof too
What have you got to lose now?
Stop the music, stop the clock
Change the jackboots, change the locks
Cinderella's burning cars in East Berlin
Mirror, mirror on a Berlin Wall
Who was the ugliest after all?
What have you got to lose now?
We closed the mines down, the buttons factory too
Left all those little men with nothing left to do
What have you got to lose now?
There's your answer, change the question
Let the poor watch cheesecake on television
Cinderella's burning cars in East Berlin
Hansel & Gretel went & never came back
Punk rock & metal bands covered their tracks
What have you got to lose now?
The Prince was married, his nose was plastic
The Ugly Sisters got a Polish domestic
What have you got to lose now?
Change the wallpaper, change the law
Move the furniture, move the goalposts
Cinderella's burning cars in East Berlin
Belgian chocolates & holidays in Spain
Let's not go through the last century again
What have you got to lose now?
It's way past midnight, how lucky we are
Park your pumpkin in this corner bar
What have we got to lose now?
That's the story, here's the joke
The rich stayed rich & the poor stayed broke
But Cinderella's burning cars in East Berlin
All I Wanna Do
I don't believe I'll go to heaven
I don't believe I'll go to hell
If I could choose, I'd choose forever like this with you
Ringing them bells
All I wanna do is a little bit of post-punk rock 'n' roll with you
I still don't want to go to Chelsea
I still don't want to go to school
I still don't buy the things they sell me
Golden chains & plastic jewels
Mondays always come too soon
Meanwhile, let's go howling at some moon
Give me the word, give me the moonlight
Give me the curve of a black guitar
Down very dark street I hear your heartbeat
I turn around & there you are
It's magic
Takeaway Girl
It was the first day of Spring
You put your sunglasses on
You stepped out of the car
& you were gone
I watched the way that you walk
The way you half turned your head
I watched you walk round that corner
& you were gone
Takeaway girl…
Who'd have thought things would work out
The way they actually did
To cut a long story short
Several years & two kids
Later on here we are
& it's the first day of Spring
It's not all happy ever after
But it's the next best thing
Takeaway girl,
You put your sunglasses on
You step out of the car
& you're gone
I watch the way that you walk
The way you half turn your head
I watch you walk round that corner
& you're gone
Cos when you walked round that corner
You took my breath away too
You took my heart away also
& you know what? You still do
The Rendezvous des Artistes
We learned to dance together, we learned to play guitar
I thought we'd dance forever round & round the stars
But you wanted to be grown-up, your gravity increased
But I stayed playing pinball in the Rendezvous des Artistes
The age of art was over, the journalists had won
Now everybody votes for their idea of having fun
It's all done by computers in factories out east
But I'm still playing pinball in the Rendezvous des Artistes
But I'll meet you come whatever, I'll meet you come what may
The last old Turk forever & I got this to say
Two fingers to the masters
Two fingers to their priests
I'm still playing pinball in the Rendezvous des Artistes
All I got to show for playing for so long
Is a pocketful of thumbtacks, some half-remembered songs
But no matter how much rain falls, each time I get released
I'll be playing pinball in the Rendezvous des Artistes
Happily Ever After
I met you at this service station
I recognised your silhouette
You had a brand-new second-hand Astra
But that same old cigarette
We'd been up & down the motorway
10,000 times in your old van
How long can you keep going nowhere?
You get more money in a covers band
You're with someone I don't remember,
but I pretended that I did
Then you opened up that Astra
& out tumbled all your kids
When I woke up the dream stayed with me,
like a song goes round & round
Sometimes I think that it's the dreaming
more than the coming true that counts
For all that going nowhere
between the darkness & the lights
We all lived happily ever after tonight.
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