Chords for Paul Buchanan interview
Tempo:
70.1 bpm
Chords used:
C
Em
A
F
G
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[A] [F#m] [C] The buttons on your collar, the colour of your hair, I think I see you everywhere.
[F] I want to live forever and watch you dancing in [C] the air.
Mid-air, the first solo [G] recording from Paul Buchanan seems to come out of nowhere.
But of course, fans of the Blue Nile are well used to waiting.
[A] Since a walk across the rooftops in [Em] 1983, only four albums have been [A] released over the course of some 20 [B] years.
[Em] [Bm] But [Em] what does this solo album mean, apart that [A] is from beautiful [G] music?
The ongoing sense that the Blue Nile might be no more seems to imbue this new record and our conversation with an even greater sense of melancholy.
But then, it's a rare and welcome opportunity to sit down and talk with Paul Buchanan.
Paul, you've been describing this new album as a recordette.
What [C] does that mean?
[N] Well, I don't think, I didn't consciously set out thinking I was making a record.
And then when I got to the end of it, I thought, oh, I've accidentally made a record.
But I think it was a very personal and intimate project.
And don't get me wrong, I mean, it wasn't particularly good circumstances that put me into that situation.
But I think once I was in it, what I got that was good was unselfconsciousness returned.
You're not writing it thinking people are going to hear this or, you know, I need to put another chorus in.
You know, it has to be the kind of thing that the band does.
So I think it just, in some way, removed a lot of barriers and it just became, it just was what came out, really.
What was [Em] good and therapeutic for me and difficult at times was actually making the record.
Because I probably had a year or two of sitting in the kitchen, [D] you know, looking out the window and [Am] thinking, [E] what [C] will I do now?
The girl I want to marry, upon the high trapeze, the day she fell and hurt her knees.
How much of the circumstances, you know, can [Fm] you tell us about?
What sort of position were you in when you were in this?
I think the thing is, you know, being in a band, there's [C] camaraderie.
Even though you move from place to place, it's like being in a wee family.
And I think, you know, when I realised that probably wasn't going to keep going the way it had always gone,
you reflect then and realise that [Em] it's been the majority of your adult life that you've done that.
That was your purpose.
And there were other factors, you know, I had a very close friend who died suddenly.
And [N] obviously that made me reflect as well.
And I think the thing is, the momentum in your life stopped.
A lot of it, I realised in retrospect, you know, particularly in relation to the industry in general,
a lot of it was probably meaningless activity.
But that's consoling, you think you're busy.
You know, whether you're actually doing anything worthwhile is another question.
But you think you're busy and you're occupied.
When that stops, there's a period where you think, I'm all washed up and I just don't know what to do anymore.
I've lost my purpose.
So making this record was good insofar as it just gave me something to do.
I suppose people who have followed you for a long time, and I'm one of them,
would have assumed that a long time ago you had everything sussed.
It seems surprising to me that you would now look back and think,
oh, you know, I didn't know what I was doing, what were we doing?
I thought you had everything worked out.
Well, my friend who died, you know, used to say that when he was 70,
he would be looking back and saying, I was a mess when I was 69, but I've absolutely got it worked out now.
And I think that's about the size of it.
I mean, the band, I think in certain [E] places, this island would be one of them.
You know, we got the benefit of the doubt in many ways.
[B] And obviously we tried to reciprocate by being authentic.
That was our only goal, really.
But no, we didn't have it worked out.
I mean, it's like [A] being in a pinball machine.
You just bounce from [D#m] one thing to another.
[A] And sometimes things would happen, or you'd get breaks that appeared to be good.
You know, in a material sense, you'd think [F#m] this is great, this is an opportunity.
But the funny thing is sometimes it would be [Em] really,
it would be taking you further and further away from your spiritual life.
[Bm] So, you know, hopes.
[N] It's very often the case that when someone brings out a solo album,
that really signals the end forever of the band, or the beginning of the end.
Is there any hope there?
You know, I mean, it was the best thing in my life.
And, you know, what I'm doing at the moment is I'm sort of hoping we have a Damascan moment, really,
and that it rejails.
But, you know, I can't stress enough that I never sort of thought, right, that's it, I'm making a solo record.
I mean, I wouldn't think like that.
But it was almost a kind of default setting.
So, I mean, I hope so.
You know, I think the best thing I can think of to do is sort of be humble and say my prayers
and hope that the three of us bump into each other in a street corner.
Paul, how aware are you of the affection in which your music is held by people?
And affection is probably putting it mildly.
You know, people are good to me and have been good to the band.
And I think [F] you can tell.
I think the last time we played here, somebody shouted, welcome home,
when we went out on stage.
[Em] And, you know, people stopped me in the street.
And that's, you know, that means more, I think, I'd prefer to say.
But, I mean, there must be a great sense of something in that,
given that, again, you guys never went [N] out searching for this kind of stuff.
You never went chasing any of this.
And yet somehow the music, gentle and all as it was, found people.
And people became obsessive about it.
And certainly my time at university, I mean, that's every night in every room,
in every house, there it was.
[G] Well, [Am] I can't add anything to that.
That's a lovely thought.
And I'm just grateful for it, [A#] obviously.
I [F] can [G] see you standing there
[C] [F] [C] [N]
[F] I want to live forever and watch you dancing in [C] the air.
Mid-air, the first solo [G] recording from Paul Buchanan seems to come out of nowhere.
But of course, fans of the Blue Nile are well used to waiting.
[A] Since a walk across the rooftops in [Em] 1983, only four albums have been [A] released over the course of some 20 [B] years.
[Em] [Bm] But [Em] what does this solo album mean, apart that [A] is from beautiful [G] music?
The ongoing sense that the Blue Nile might be no more seems to imbue this new record and our conversation with an even greater sense of melancholy.
But then, it's a rare and welcome opportunity to sit down and talk with Paul Buchanan.
Paul, you've been describing this new album as a recordette.
What [C] does that mean?
[N] Well, I don't think, I didn't consciously set out thinking I was making a record.
And then when I got to the end of it, I thought, oh, I've accidentally made a record.
But I think it was a very personal and intimate project.
And don't get me wrong, I mean, it wasn't particularly good circumstances that put me into that situation.
But I think once I was in it, what I got that was good was unselfconsciousness returned.
You're not writing it thinking people are going to hear this or, you know, I need to put another chorus in.
You know, it has to be the kind of thing that the band does.
So I think it just, in some way, removed a lot of barriers and it just became, it just was what came out, really.
What was [Em] good and therapeutic for me and difficult at times was actually making the record.
Because I probably had a year or two of sitting in the kitchen, [D] you know, looking out the window and [Am] thinking, [E] what [C] will I do now?
The girl I want to marry, upon the high trapeze, the day she fell and hurt her knees.
How much of the circumstances, you know, can [Fm] you tell us about?
What sort of position were you in when you were in this?
I think the thing is, you know, being in a band, there's [C] camaraderie.
Even though you move from place to place, it's like being in a wee family.
And I think, you know, when I realised that probably wasn't going to keep going the way it had always gone,
you reflect then and realise that [Em] it's been the majority of your adult life that you've done that.
That was your purpose.
And there were other factors, you know, I had a very close friend who died suddenly.
And [N] obviously that made me reflect as well.
And I think the thing is, the momentum in your life stopped.
A lot of it, I realised in retrospect, you know, particularly in relation to the industry in general,
a lot of it was probably meaningless activity.
But that's consoling, you think you're busy.
You know, whether you're actually doing anything worthwhile is another question.
But you think you're busy and you're occupied.
When that stops, there's a period where you think, I'm all washed up and I just don't know what to do anymore.
I've lost my purpose.
So making this record was good insofar as it just gave me something to do.
I suppose people who have followed you for a long time, and I'm one of them,
would have assumed that a long time ago you had everything sussed.
It seems surprising to me that you would now look back and think,
oh, you know, I didn't know what I was doing, what were we doing?
I thought you had everything worked out.
Well, my friend who died, you know, used to say that when he was 70,
he would be looking back and saying, I was a mess when I was 69, but I've absolutely got it worked out now.
And I think that's about the size of it.
I mean, the band, I think in certain [E] places, this island would be one of them.
You know, we got the benefit of the doubt in many ways.
[B] And obviously we tried to reciprocate by being authentic.
That was our only goal, really.
But no, we didn't have it worked out.
I mean, it's like [A] being in a pinball machine.
You just bounce from [D#m] one thing to another.
[A] And sometimes things would happen, or you'd get breaks that appeared to be good.
You know, in a material sense, you'd think [F#m] this is great, this is an opportunity.
But the funny thing is sometimes it would be [Em] really,
it would be taking you further and further away from your spiritual life.
[Bm] So, you know, hopes.
[N] It's very often the case that when someone brings out a solo album,
that really signals the end forever of the band, or the beginning of the end.
Is there any hope there?
You know, I mean, it was the best thing in my life.
And, you know, what I'm doing at the moment is I'm sort of hoping we have a Damascan moment, really,
and that it rejails.
But, you know, I can't stress enough that I never sort of thought, right, that's it, I'm making a solo record.
I mean, I wouldn't think like that.
But it was almost a kind of default setting.
So, I mean, I hope so.
You know, I think the best thing I can think of to do is sort of be humble and say my prayers
and hope that the three of us bump into each other in a street corner.
Paul, how aware are you of the affection in which your music is held by people?
And affection is probably putting it mildly.
You know, people are good to me and have been good to the band.
And I think [F] you can tell.
I think the last time we played here, somebody shouted, welcome home,
when we went out on stage.
[Em] And, you know, people stopped me in the street.
And that's, you know, that means more, I think, I'd prefer to say.
But, I mean, there must be a great sense of something in that,
given that, again, you guys never went [N] out searching for this kind of stuff.
You never went chasing any of this.
And yet somehow the music, gentle and all as it was, found people.
And people became obsessive about it.
And certainly my time at university, I mean, that's every night in every room,
in every house, there it was.
[G] Well, [Am] I can't add anything to that.
That's a lovely thought.
And I'm just grateful for it, [A#] obviously.
I [F] can [G] see you standing there
[C] [F] [C] [N]
Key:
C
Em
A
F
G
C
Em
A
[A] _ _ [F#m] _ _ [C] _ The buttons on your collar, _ the colour of your hair, I think I see you everywhere. _
_ _ _ [F] I want to live forever and watch you dancing in [C] the air.
_ Mid-air, the first solo [G] recording from Paul Buchanan seems to come out of nowhere.
But of course, fans of the Blue Nile are well used to waiting.
[A] Since a walk across the rooftops in [Em] 1983, only four albums have been [A] released over the course of some 20 [B] years.
[Em] [Bm] But _ [Em] what does this solo album mean, apart that [A] is from beautiful [G] music?
The ongoing sense that the Blue Nile might be no more seems to imbue this new record and our conversation with an even greater sense of melancholy.
But then, it's a rare and welcome opportunity to sit down and talk with Paul Buchanan.
Paul, you've been describing this new album as a recordette.
What [C] does that mean?
[N] Well, I don't think, I didn't consciously set out thinking I was making a record.
And then when I got to the end of it, I thought, oh, I've accidentally made a record.
But I think it was a very personal and intimate project.
And don't get me wrong, I mean, it wasn't particularly good circumstances that put me into that situation.
But I think once I was in it, what I got that was good was unselfconsciousness returned.
You're not writing it thinking people are going to hear this or, you know, I need to put another chorus in.
You know, it has to be the kind of thing that the band does.
So I think it just, in some way, removed a lot of barriers and it just became, it just was what came out, really.
What was [Em] good and therapeutic for me and difficult at times was actually making the record.
Because I probably had a year or two of sitting in the kitchen, [D] you know, looking out the window and [Am] thinking, [E] what [C] will I do now?
The girl I want to marry, _ upon the high trapeze, the day she fell and hurt her knees.
How much of the circumstances, you know, can [Fm] you tell us about?
What sort of position were you in when you were in this?
I think the thing is, you know, being in a band, there's [C] camaraderie.
Even though you move from place to place, it's like being in a wee family.
And I think, you know, when I realised that probably wasn't going to keep going the way it had always gone,
you reflect then and realise that [Em] it's been the majority of your adult life that you've done that.
That was your purpose.
And there were other factors, you know, I had a very close friend who died suddenly.
And [N] obviously that made me reflect as well.
And I think the thing is, the momentum in your life stopped.
A lot of it, I realised in retrospect, _ you know, particularly in relation to the industry in general,
a lot of it was probably meaningless activity.
But that's consoling, you think you're busy.
You know, whether you're actually doing anything worthwhile is another question.
But you think you're busy and you're occupied.
When that stops, there's a period where you think, I'm all washed up and I just don't know what to do anymore.
I've lost my purpose.
So making this record was good insofar as it just gave me something to do.
I suppose people who have followed you for a long time, and I'm one of them,
would have assumed that a long time ago you had everything sussed.
It seems surprising to me that you would now look back and think,
oh, you know, I didn't know what I was doing, what were we doing?
I thought you had everything worked out.
Well, my friend who died, you know, used to say that when he was 70,
he would be looking back and saying, I was a mess when I was 69, but I've absolutely got it worked out now.
And I think that's about the size of it.
I mean, the band, I think in certain [E] places, this island would be one of them.
You know, we got the benefit of the doubt in many ways. _
_ [B] And obviously we tried to reciprocate by being authentic.
That was our only goal, really.
But no, we didn't have it worked out.
I mean, it's like [A] being in a pinball machine.
You just bounce from [D#m] one thing to another.
[A] And sometimes things would happen, or you'd get breaks that appeared to be good.
You know, in a material sense, you'd think [F#m] this is great, this is an opportunity.
But the funny thing is sometimes it would be [Em] really,
it would be taking you further and further away from your spiritual life.
[Bm] So, you know, hopes.
[N] It's very often the case that when someone brings out a solo album,
that really signals the end forever of the band, or the beginning of the end.
Is there any hope there?
You know, I mean, it was the best thing in my life.
And, you know, what I'm doing at the moment is I'm sort of hoping we have a Damascan moment, really,
and that it rejails.
But, you know, I can't stress enough that I never sort of thought, right, that's it, I'm making a solo record.
I mean, I wouldn't think like that.
But it was almost a kind of default setting.
So, I mean, I hope so.
You know, I think the best thing I can think of to do is sort of be humble and say my prayers
and hope that the three of us bump into each other in a street corner.
Paul, how aware are you of the affection in which your music is held by people?
And affection is probably putting it mildly. _ _
You know, people are good to me and have been good to the band.
And I think [F] you can tell.
I think the last time we played here, somebody shouted, welcome home,
when we went out on stage.
[Em] And, you know, people stopped me in the street.
And that's, you know, that means more, I think, I'd prefer to say.
But, I mean, there must be a great sense of something in that,
given that, again, you guys never went [N] out searching for this kind of stuff.
You never went chasing any of this.
And yet somehow the music, gentle and all as it was, found people.
And people became obsessive about it.
And certainly my time at university, I mean, that's every night in every room,
in every house, there it was.
[G] Well, [Am] I can't add anything to that.
That's a lovely thought.
And I'm just grateful for it, [A#] obviously.
I [F] can [G] see you standing there
[C] _ _ _ _ _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ [C] _ [N] _
_ _ _ [F] I want to live forever and watch you dancing in [C] the air.
_ Mid-air, the first solo [G] recording from Paul Buchanan seems to come out of nowhere.
But of course, fans of the Blue Nile are well used to waiting.
[A] Since a walk across the rooftops in [Em] 1983, only four albums have been [A] released over the course of some 20 [B] years.
[Em] [Bm] But _ [Em] what does this solo album mean, apart that [A] is from beautiful [G] music?
The ongoing sense that the Blue Nile might be no more seems to imbue this new record and our conversation with an even greater sense of melancholy.
But then, it's a rare and welcome opportunity to sit down and talk with Paul Buchanan.
Paul, you've been describing this new album as a recordette.
What [C] does that mean?
[N] Well, I don't think, I didn't consciously set out thinking I was making a record.
And then when I got to the end of it, I thought, oh, I've accidentally made a record.
But I think it was a very personal and intimate project.
And don't get me wrong, I mean, it wasn't particularly good circumstances that put me into that situation.
But I think once I was in it, what I got that was good was unselfconsciousness returned.
You're not writing it thinking people are going to hear this or, you know, I need to put another chorus in.
You know, it has to be the kind of thing that the band does.
So I think it just, in some way, removed a lot of barriers and it just became, it just was what came out, really.
What was [Em] good and therapeutic for me and difficult at times was actually making the record.
Because I probably had a year or two of sitting in the kitchen, [D] you know, looking out the window and [Am] thinking, [E] what [C] will I do now?
The girl I want to marry, _ upon the high trapeze, the day she fell and hurt her knees.
How much of the circumstances, you know, can [Fm] you tell us about?
What sort of position were you in when you were in this?
I think the thing is, you know, being in a band, there's [C] camaraderie.
Even though you move from place to place, it's like being in a wee family.
And I think, you know, when I realised that probably wasn't going to keep going the way it had always gone,
you reflect then and realise that [Em] it's been the majority of your adult life that you've done that.
That was your purpose.
And there were other factors, you know, I had a very close friend who died suddenly.
And [N] obviously that made me reflect as well.
And I think the thing is, the momentum in your life stopped.
A lot of it, I realised in retrospect, _ you know, particularly in relation to the industry in general,
a lot of it was probably meaningless activity.
But that's consoling, you think you're busy.
You know, whether you're actually doing anything worthwhile is another question.
But you think you're busy and you're occupied.
When that stops, there's a period where you think, I'm all washed up and I just don't know what to do anymore.
I've lost my purpose.
So making this record was good insofar as it just gave me something to do.
I suppose people who have followed you for a long time, and I'm one of them,
would have assumed that a long time ago you had everything sussed.
It seems surprising to me that you would now look back and think,
oh, you know, I didn't know what I was doing, what were we doing?
I thought you had everything worked out.
Well, my friend who died, you know, used to say that when he was 70,
he would be looking back and saying, I was a mess when I was 69, but I've absolutely got it worked out now.
And I think that's about the size of it.
I mean, the band, I think in certain [E] places, this island would be one of them.
You know, we got the benefit of the doubt in many ways. _
_ [B] And obviously we tried to reciprocate by being authentic.
That was our only goal, really.
But no, we didn't have it worked out.
I mean, it's like [A] being in a pinball machine.
You just bounce from [D#m] one thing to another.
[A] And sometimes things would happen, or you'd get breaks that appeared to be good.
You know, in a material sense, you'd think [F#m] this is great, this is an opportunity.
But the funny thing is sometimes it would be [Em] really,
it would be taking you further and further away from your spiritual life.
[Bm] So, you know, hopes.
[N] It's very often the case that when someone brings out a solo album,
that really signals the end forever of the band, or the beginning of the end.
Is there any hope there?
You know, I mean, it was the best thing in my life.
And, you know, what I'm doing at the moment is I'm sort of hoping we have a Damascan moment, really,
and that it rejails.
But, you know, I can't stress enough that I never sort of thought, right, that's it, I'm making a solo record.
I mean, I wouldn't think like that.
But it was almost a kind of default setting.
So, I mean, I hope so.
You know, I think the best thing I can think of to do is sort of be humble and say my prayers
and hope that the three of us bump into each other in a street corner.
Paul, how aware are you of the affection in which your music is held by people?
And affection is probably putting it mildly. _ _
You know, people are good to me and have been good to the band.
And I think [F] you can tell.
I think the last time we played here, somebody shouted, welcome home,
when we went out on stage.
[Em] And, you know, people stopped me in the street.
And that's, you know, that means more, I think, I'd prefer to say.
But, I mean, there must be a great sense of something in that,
given that, again, you guys never went [N] out searching for this kind of stuff.
You never went chasing any of this.
And yet somehow the music, gentle and all as it was, found people.
And people became obsessive about it.
And certainly my time at university, I mean, that's every night in every room,
in every house, there it was.
[G] Well, [Am] I can't add anything to that.
That's a lovely thought.
And I'm just grateful for it, [A#] obviously.
I [F] can [G] see you standing there
[C] _ _ _ _ _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ [C] _ [N] _