- by Rob Watson
- Monday, February 05, 2007





I know how you feel, Seb. Just a cursory glance over the lyrics to this self-pitying monstrosity is enough to convince even the hardiest bedroom poet that if Mr Clarke really is intent on ending it all, any aid we can give him would be at worst a mercy killing. Over six – yes, SIX – minutes (this is a single, Seb, remember?) he reminds us time and time again that "there's no-one here who cares if I stay or not" and "The sun never shines… but I've got nowhere to go", all backed by six-piece brass band and a Hammond organ that completely drown out any semblance of a tune from this turkey.
You'd almost be forgiven for thinking this was a cleverly put-together piss-take of dreadful wet singer-songwriters, if it wasn't all so hilariously earnest, with never-ending hammond solos, sincere vocals, an enormous entourage of musicians and finally, astonishingly, a B-side about the joys of drinking tea on a cold day. Simply awful.

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