Better Than Clapton: Lyrics

The date on my sheet of yellow legal paper says June 10, 2004, but I honestly don’t remember when I first started working on these lyrics. The incident they describe took place around 1994-95 and suffered through false starts as a poem and a short story before working its way into a song.

The verses are the almost verbatim ramblings of a (presumably) drunk woman who approached me during a break at a party an old band of mine played. She was particularly adept at using feigned interest in me to steer her monologue back toward the “kid” in our narrative. Word to the wise: Don’t get drunk and ramble to band members during breaks. Unless it’s me, of course.

The chorus is from the point of view of the, um, ramblee (?). This is what the non-speaking participant of the “conversation” is thinking as it’s happening.

The bridge takes a little leap and explains why the ramblee doesn’t say anything but just keeps nodding and smiling. (And making a mental note of every word, for possible future use.)

Better Than Clapton

This kid is better than Clapton
He’s shy but we’re working on that
I’m not just his agent, I’m his psychotherapist

Have some chips and guacamole
How long have you played guitar?
He’s a real good kid, just needs to believe in himself

It’s not your house
It’s not your party
Who invited you, anyway?
Just go away
Leave me alone
What’s your problem, lady?
Who invited you, anyway?

Yeah, well you guys are pretty good
But this kid is better than Clapton
We just need to work out a few little things

repeat chorus

And you can’t say a word
‘Cause she might be a friend
Of a friend of a friend
Of a guy you used to know

repeat chorus

copyright © Geoffrey N. Young

On this day…

• 2005: Ankle Tattoo Blues: Post-Mortem — Sunday evening, listening to Glenn Miller. Life is good and so is that brass section.
  A week later, I have no [...]