Thursday, April 19, 2001

My favourite albums of the 90s

7. "Casanova" by the Divine Comedy

Are you all settled in? Right, we can begin. After GCSEs, A-levels, university, after your first badly-paid job in advertising.

Pale, pubescent beasts roam through the streets. While they search for a mate, my type hibernate in bedrooms above. Elegance against ignorance. Difference against indifference. Wit against shit.

But something in his heart told him to come clean - he was not who he claimed to be. A fake. Sure, but a real fake. Once there was a time when my mind lay on higher things. But now, well now I find it saves time to say what you mean. I know it seems so unrefined, but it's time to let off some steam. Now I'm resigned to the kind of life I'd reserved for other guys less smart than I - you know, the kind who end up with the girls.

I fall in love with someone new practically every day. But that's OK. It's just the price I pay for being a man. If that's really what I am. The Casanova in your dreams. On the make, making up for lost time. In and out in Paris and London. Naked bodies twist and turn on the futon of dreams fulfilled. Way-hey! Let the games begin. Oh come on, you know you want to. This is not a sin - it's not even original. You don't really love me, and I don't really mind. I don't love anybody, that stuff is just a waste of time. Your place or mine? I come and go through people's love lives. Your place or mine? Your place or mine?

Bang! Bang! Bang! All night.

Then the fall from grace. The lines upon your face grow deeper almost everyday. Slide right back down that self-confident path you've just so laboriously climbed. It's four o'clock and all's not well in my private circle of hell. This rut has fast become a trench. This smell has turned into the stench of rotten dreams and stale ideals. The past is snapping at my heels. Pickle your liver and addle your brain. I know you'll be the death of me, but what a cool death that would be. Casanova? In your dreams.

The casualties of casual sex.

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