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This was written and recorded in the amazing rooftop studio (shoebox) flat in Borough, South London, that I sub-let for a year in 1995. I deliberately left the sound of the borrowed Fostex 8-track tape recorder being turned-on at the beginning, because it shows how basic the recording process was! The quality, however, is pretty good! The two blocks of massed vocals were all 'bounced-down' (no computer copy-and-paste in those days) on the 8-track. I'd learnt to be a sound engineer virtually overnight! The lyrics speak for themselves.

lyrics

Chatterton is hangin' out on Forty Second Street,
just another youth who found that truth gets trampled underneath your feet.

Chatterton is going 'round all those corridors of power,
to show his works to coked-out jerks, who never could smell a perfect flower.

Chatterton is dancing, with the spirit in his eyes, and he's waiting to communicate, but no-one seems inclined to try.

It's over now, the pain has gone, the love comes later,
far beyond the struggle to be recognised by all the so-called great and wise.

But inspiration never dies, the hope lives on in those young men's eyes, no the inspiration never dies - the hope lives on in all those young men's eyes.

Chatterton is walking on a wild deserted beach,
where the oil and foam have found a home, like love polluted, out of reach.

Chatterton is drinking in a another Soho bar and he's bouncing thoughts off those who ought to know just who and what they are.

Chatterton is lying beneath an open window, once so fine and young,
'til those bells were rung across a green and empty meadow.

It's over now, the pain has gone, the love comes later,
far beyond the struggle to be recognised by all the so-called great and wise.

But inspiration never dies, the hope lives on in those young men's eyes, no, inspiration the never dies - the hope lives on in all those young men's eyes.

credits

from The Unplanned Obsolescence Of Thom Topham, released July 4, 2019
All instruments, drum programming, vocals and production by Steve Swindells.

Words and music by © Steve Swindells. All rights reserved.

The Death Of Chatterton by Henry Wallis (Tate Britain).

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Steve Swindells Bath, UK

For my bio see (and 'like' me please): www.facebook.com/SteveSwindellsMusic

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