Credits

Singing and playing by CG
Fiona Lander played Tenor Sax on "Emily"
Songs written by CG, published by Gregsongs, administered by BMG Rights Management, UK     
Recorded and mixed at Gregsonics, Saddleworth, UK by CG
Tenor Sax on "Emily" recorded at home by Fiona Lander
Produced by Clive Gregson
Mastered by Andy Seward
Design by Amelia Sanders
Photographs by Sara Porter

Thanks

Paul Adshead, All at BMG, Lorraine Carpenter, Missy Feeley, Ged Green, Andy Murray, Stuart Palmer,
All at John Pearse Strings, Sara Porter, Amelia Sanders, Andy Seward, John Stirling

Special Thanks

Fiona Lander
Tracks

01: Carolina Calls
02: Los Angeles
03: When Jeannie plays The Accordion
04: St John's Wood
05: Delia
06: Carcassonne
07: Carmelita
08: The Streets Of Amsterdam
09: Emily
10: Barcelona
11: Grace
12: The Sun On My Face
Lyrics

CAROLINA CALLS

Look, there goes my Carolina, riding in her Morris Minor,
Have you ever seen one finer?
My hat's off to her....

She's at home running slide rules, Black & Decker power tools,
Polishing the family jewels,
My hat's off to her...

And hey, when Carolina calls me to her marble halls,
I don't need asking twice, she's my only vice,
When virtue is required, she's hardly ever hired,
That's not her thing at all, when Carolina calls....

I don't believe I've ever seen her anything but Miss Demeanour,
She always takes me to the cleaners,
My hat's off to her...

What a stellar constitution, she's a one girl revolution,
International institution,
My hat's off to her...

And hey, when Carolina calls me to her marble halls,
I don't need asking twice, she's my only vice,
When virtue is required, she's hardly ever hired,
That's not her thing at all, when Carolina calls....

She never hits redial, no, that's not her style,
And if I don't pick up, well that's just my bad luck,
She won't send a text, she moves on to the next,
Number on her list, but I know what I've missed...

And hey, when Carolina calls me to her marble halls,
I don't need asking twice, she's my only vice,
When virtue is required, she's hardly ever hired,
That's not her thing at all, when Carolina calls,
Carolina calls, Carolina calls...

LOS ANGELES

Something in the water, something in the air,
See it in the rear view, feel it everywhere,
Paradise is nothing but a state of mind,        
Try your best to keep up, don’t get left behind,
Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles…

Six lanes in all directions, going nowhere fast,
Top down, sound up, sit back and relax,
Paradise is nothing but a state of mind,        
Try your best to keep up, don’t get left behind,
Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles…

Emotional distraction, chemical intake,
Sensory satisfaction, another perfect day,
Paradise is nothing but a state of mind,        
Try your best to keep up, don’t get left behind,
Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles,
Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles, Los Angeles...

WHEN JEANNIE PLAYS THE ACCORDION

I’m going down the pub tonight to see the same old crowd,
We’re going to set this world to rights, it could get rather loud,
As we nurse our pints of bitter, while we play cards, darts and dominos,
There in the corner of the lounge bar, sits a faded English Rose...

When Jeannie plays the accordion, nobody’s moved to tears,
No, you’ll not find a one of this hard bitten crew crying in his beer,
But we all walk “The Streets Of London”,
We all peer through “The Fog On The Tyne”,
When Jeannie plays the accordion, every Friday night, oh every Friday night...

Now Jeannie she’s no oil painting, in truth she’s pretty plain,
Her skin is like old leather left too long in the rain,
As she pumps away at the bellows, as her fingers fly over the keys,
She’s the closest thing to celestial some of these lads have ever seen...
      
When Jeannie plays the accordion, nobody’s moved to tears,
No, you’ll not find a one of this hard bitten crew crying in his beer,
But we all walk “The Streets Of London”,
We all peer through “The Fog On The Tyne”,
When Jeannie plays the accordion, every Friday night, oh every Friday night...

Well, she plays from nine till closing time, with nought but a few minutes break,
And in all the years I’ve been coming here, I’ve not heard too many mistakes,
Oh she loves a gin and tonic, supplied by a man in a sheepskin coat,
And if she ever ran for high office, well I’m damn sure she’d get all our votes...

When Jeannie plays the accordion, nobody’s moved to tears,
No, you’ll not find a one of this hard bitten crew crying in his beer,
But we all walk “The Streets Of London”,
We all peer through “The Fog On The Tyne”,
When Jeannie plays the accordion, every Friday night,
Yes, we all walk “The Streets Of London”,
We all peer through “The Fog On The Tyne”,
When Jeannie plays the accordion, every Friday night, oh every Friday night...
Every Friday night...

ST. JOHN’S WOOD

Hey, I’m going back to St. John’s Wood,
There’s a sound I always understood,
Every day’s another chance to go seek out the good,
So, I’m going back to St. John’s Wood…

It all started late in ‘62,
I fell in love, what else could I do?
First the backbeat stole my heart and now it’s in my blood,
So, I’m going back to St John’s Wood…

It’s time for me to stand up, time to start again,
Turn up the Telecaster all the way to ten….  

I stopped off in Nashville, Tennessee,
Detroit and Memphis cast their spell on me,
New Orleans and Chicago lit a fire under my hood,
Now I’m going back to St. John’s Wood…

It’s time for me to step out, get back to my roots,
A sixty six sunburst Casino, black Chelsea boots…

Oh, I’m going back to St. John’s Wood,
Cos that’s a sound I always understood,
Every day’s another chance to go seek out the good,
So, I’m going back to St. John’s Wood,
Hey, I‘m going back to St. John‘s Wood…

DELIA

Delia, I dialed your number yesterday,
Some guy said you’d gone away,
Delia, was it everything I said,
The letters that you returned unread,
Delia, well you know I’ve called a million times before,
I think it might be for the best if I don’t call no more,
Delia, there is only so much any man can take,
Delia…

Delia, the passing of time will not erase,
The touch of your hand upon my face,
Delia, I worship the ground on which you tread,
I’m clinging to a single thread,
Delia, I remember every moment that we shared,
Do you really think that I believe you never even cared,
Delia, if I ever meant a single thing to you,
Delia…

Delia,  well I always keep your essence close to hand,
It serves to save me from myself, I hope you understand,
Delia, will your winter ever thaw into a spring,
Delia…
Delia…
Delia…

CARCASSONNE

When everything flies out the door,
The same old shakes me to my core,        
I’m gonna chase the four by fours,
Down to Carcassonne…

I love to walk the city walls,
Wander through the market stalls,
Ignore my phone when London calls,
Down in Carcassonne…

Whenever life gets in the way,
Well, there’s a place that I can always stay…

It’s a bijou residence,
It’s got everything I want,
Breakfast tea and fresh croissants,
Down in Carcassonne…

So let’s make a rendezvous,
Come on down, I’ll tell you what we’ll do…

Breathe in that southern air,
We’ll buy smokes in Tabac Du Square,
Cassoulet without a care,
Down in Carcassonne…

When everything flies out the door,
The same old shakes me to my core,        
Gonna chase the four by fours,
Down to Carcassonne, down to Carcassonne, down to Carcassonne…

CARMELITA

Carmelita called to say,
Tomorrow is another day,
The sun will rise, golden and sweet,
Now’s no time for indiscreet…

Carmelita’s always right,
Night is never day, black is never white,
And all too soon, these moments pass,
What’s here to stay is gone at last…        

There was a time,
When summers were long,
Out in the tall grass,
I was strong…
      
Carmelita rolls her eyes,
She never was one to surprise,
We telegraph everything,
We’re two cans and a piece of string,
One either side of a garden wall,
Carmelita called…        

THE STREETS OF AMSTERDAM

I was thinking I was all washed up,
I was thinking I was all washed up,
I was thinking I was all washed up,
On the streets of Amsterdam…

Well I was hanging at the Milky Way,
I couldn’t tell if it was night or day,
When I woke up in a purple haze,
On the streets of Amsterdam…

I was drinking like an Englishman,
Getting blistered was my only plan,
I kept falling till I could not stand,
The streets of Amsterdam…

I was having me a real good time,
Since when has that been a crime?
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine,
On the streets of Amsterdam…

Rub me down with an oily rag,
Dress me up in your finest drag,
Papa’s got a brand new bag,
On the streets of Amsterdam…

I was thinking I was all washed up,
I was thinking I was all washed up,
I was thinking I was all washed up,
On the streets of Amsterdam,
On the streets of Amsterdam,
On the streets of Amsterdam…

EMILY

Emily, when you look at me,
I get to thinking 'bout '93,
Tears and mascara pouring down your face,
Inclement weather as I leave your place...
      
But Emily, that's behind us now,
We keep a-rolling but I don't know how,
I can't remember much beyond last week,
But I still get goosebumps every time you speak...

Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily...

Hey Emily, let's kick off our shoes,
Blow out the cobwebs and blow a fuse,
Rock down to Brighton on the early train,
Stare at the sea, then ride back again...
      
Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily...

Now all my stories and all my songs,
Made no sense till you sang along,
And all I ever seem to say is,
Never let me go, never let me go....        

Say Emily, are we getting old?
When will we ever do what we're told?
Will you still love me when my eyes don't shine?
Must I be wrong just ‘cos you are right?

Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily,
Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily...

BARCELONA

On the day the war ended, she fell in love,
With a man from the smart side of town,
But as so often happens in affairs of the heart,
Before too long, he let her down,
So she drifted through days of confusion and haze,
Escaping the scene of the crime,
And she managed the mysteries, the means and the ways,
Of living one day at a time…
Oh, farewell to all that,
Oh, let’s shake off the chains that hold us down,
Let’s raise a glass to right here and right now,
To a heart with one careless owner,
Against all the odds, she turned things around,
The minute she hit Barcelona…

Well he laid down his arms and started for home,
With all that he owned in his pack,
When he landed stateside, one look around,
Made him wish he had never come back,
For the long days of violence would leave him no peace,
And the bleak nights could not be faced sober,
How he longed for the silence of blessed release,
And he swore to search the world over…
Oh, farewell to all that,
Oh, let’s shake off the chains that hold us down,
Let’s raise a glass to right here and right now,
The Congress Hotel, Tucson, Arizona,
Against all the odds, he turned things around,
The minute he hit Barcelona…

Well they met quite by chance as the day faded out,
By the fountain at Placa Catalunya,
As Las Ramblas nightlife started its dance,
Both of them started to wonder,
Just what it was that made their paths meet,
The joining of two broken souls,
Was it luck, was it fate, was it simple belief,
Or something beyond their control,
Oh, farewell to all that,
Oh, let’s shake off the chains that hold us down,
Let’s raise a glass to right here and right now,
In praise of Jake and Ramona,
Against all the odds, they turned things around,
The minute they hit Barcelona, oh Barcelona, hey Barcelona, Barcelona…

GRACE

Grace, at the end of the day,
It all comes down to what you dream,
And the things that you believe in,
And if you follow your heart,
Your light will always shine,        
Grace, at the end of the day...

Grace, there can be no turning back,
Every step along the way
Is a miracle in progress,
Every beat of your heart,
Is a testament to love,
Grace, at the end of the day...

What waits for you, no one can tell,
Not even those who know you well,
What waits for you, no one can say,
Grace, at the end of the day...

Grace, it's so hard moving on,
To leave all that you know,
And somewhere you belong,
But there's a place in this world,
Where you can rest your head,
Grace, at the end of the day,
Yes, there's a place in this world,
Where you can rest your head,
Grace, at the end of the day...

SUN ON MY FACE

I want to wake up with the sun on my face beneath the clear Amalfi sky,
I want to sit on my front step, watch the world go by,
I want to paint the breeze bright blue and see it roll around the place,
I want to say good morning to you with the sun on my face…

I want to feel the sand in my shoes as I walk among the gods,
I want to be back home by dusk, what are the odds?
I want to fall into your arms, disappear without a trace,
I want to say good morning to you with the sun on my face…

Sun on my face, sun on my face, sun on my face…

I want to walk up into town, count the steps I have to climb,
I want to hang out by the dock, hear the church bells chime,
I want to float back down the hill in a limoncello haze,
I want to say good morning to you with the sun on my face…

And I want to dance around this room, dodge the shadows on the floor,
I want to laugh at your straw hat as you waltz through the door,
I want to play a brand new song in search of words of praise,
I want to say good morning to you with the sun on my face…

Sun on my face, sun on my face, sun on my face,
Sun on my face, sun on my face, sun on my face…
"People & Places", my 1995 release, was intended to be a collection of songs about people and places...
imagine that! In the event, the album included a few detours from the original premise... so I thought it

might be interesting to revisit the concept but stick to the brief more closely... so here it is.

CAROLINA CALLS

A person, not the place. We cut a version of this for one of the Any Trouble reunion CDs but it didn't
really work out and therefore finished up on the cutting room floor. I thought I'd have another stab at it... so
here it is.

LOS ANGELES

I actually wrote this while sitting in a traffic jam on an LA freeway... something I seem to have done
fairly often. To quote Randy Newman... I love LA. Don't know that I could live there... but I've always
enjoyed visiting.

WHEN JEANNIE PLAYS THE ACCORDION

In the early days of Any Trouble, we used to go to a pub near Stoke railway station... damned if I can
remember the name of the place. On Friday evenings, a bloke known as Deaf Wilf would play the
accordion to entertain the throng. Happy days... I reassigned Wilf's gender for my song but the rest of
the narrative is drawn from my infallible memory...

ST JOHN'S WOOD

Abbey Road Studios are in St John's Wood. The Beatles recorded most of their music there. What else
do you need to know?

DELIA

I learned "Dehlia", a country blues song, from a David Bromberg record many years ago... great song, it
was one of my soundcheck favourites for ages... I almost never play songs at soundcheck that I'm going
to play in the show, don't know why. I was noodling around on an acoustic one morning and my very own
Delia sprang forth, pretty much fully formed. I was delighted to make her acquaintance...

CARCASSONE

I've actually only been there once.... but it was fab.

CARMELITA

I don't know anybody named Carmelita. Yet!

THE STREETS OF AMSTERDAM

A regular port of call for Any Trouble back in the day. We rarely escaped unscathed...

EMILY

I know a couple of Emily's... this song is not about either of them. I just like the name...

BARCELONA

A salutary tale... with a happy ending. I always enjoy Barcelona... great city.

GRACE

An empty nest song.

THE SUN ON MY FACE

I wrote this one in Positano, on the Amalfi coast of Italy. What a great trip that was...
People and Places Revisited (2020-07)