Bluebells

...in the rain. The girls are watching 'The Secret Garden', I'm ironing shirts and listening to the Tindersticks, it's pouring down outside - it must be Sunday afternoon...!

I've always liked my music with a touch of sweeping romantic melancholy - or as Beck puts it 'maudlin' - ever since my first big teenage musical crush on the always mighty Smiths. From the Supremes swooning 'I Hear A Symphony' to The Red House Painters aching 'Grace Cathedral Park' and beyond. Here's a particularly melancholic example from the particularly melancholic oeuvre of the aforementioned 'sticks - "Doesn't matter where she is tonight, or with whoever she spends her time - if these arms were meant to hold her, they were never meant to hold her so tight..."