Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andrew John "Andy" Partridgeis an English singer, songwriter, and guitarist. He was a founding member, guitarist and chief songwriter of the pop/new wave band, XTC. He lives in Swindon, Wiltshire, where he was brought up...
ProfessionGuitarist
Date of Birth11 November 1953
CityMtarfa, Malta
album happening people response sync today
The response has been so good, a little frightening, I must say. I'm a little humbled. The album is out of sync with everything that's happening today and people say wow! It's different.
ask classics ears music orchestra people record stuffed
People ask if we made this kind of record with an orchestra because of the classics and I say no, it's made up of the music I had stuffed into my ears as a kid,
belonged bit clique hang london parties people
So it was a bit tricky, 'cause most of the people in London belonged to this London clique and we didn't. So we didn't go to parties or hang out.
We're horribly mundane, aggressively mundane individuals. We're the ninjas of the mundane, you might say.
bars hated kid liked seeing smashed sort terry various
Terry said he had this new kid and his wife didn't want to live in England. He wanted to tour. He hated being in the studio. Terry liked seeing various bars the world over and getting smashed out of his brain. He was a sort of latent Keith Moon.
mother real brave
We stole their babes and mothers, chiefs and braves Although we held the whip, you knew we were The real slaves To alchemy, human alchemy.
rain blood land
Other lands became a larder full of all the good things All we had to do was go and take Blood the colour of the rain that grew our wicked harvest Black the colour icing on our cake
singing doorways ships
Now that I'm out and I'm shouting in doorways Freed from a love more like murder I should be singing but in liberation Feel like a ship with no rudder.
children land names
Will you tell them about that far off and mythical land And how a child to the virgin came? Will you tell them that the reason why we murdered Everything upon the surface of the world Is so we can stand right up and say we did it in his name?
weed dark blow
Reign of blows cascading down upon your shoulders Far too many men dressed up as soldiers The lamb is brought to the ground Under the weight of the Crown A crown of thorns and dark deeds The swastika and the hammer and sickle Are symbols that reap only weeds
rainy-day silent-films play
Ballet for a rainy day Silent film of melting miracle play Dancing out there through my window To the backdrop of a slow descending grey
men greed soul
The man who sailed around his soul From East to West, from pole to pole With ego as his drunken captain Greed, the mutineer, had trapped all reason in the hold
believe printed-word soul
I believe the printed word is more than sacred Beyond the gauge of good or bad The human right to let your soul fly free and naked Above the violence of the fearful and sad
queens clothes poison
Now that I can see it's the queen's new clothes Now that I can hear all your poison prose Now that I can talk with my tongue unfroze I'm not so sure of Santa or the buck tooth fairy There are no words for me inside your dictionary