Julian writes: Kevin Coyne. Are We Dreaming?

It’s 10pm in the NOP Office and Paul has vey kindly stayed back to help me craft the perfect song to woo the perfect woman.

“Rule one,” he asserts. He can be quite assertive when he puts his mind to it, can Paul I thought. “Kevin Coyne never sang pretty. He growled, he cracked, he groaned. His songs were the sound of a man trying to wring meaning out of a damp Tuesday in Derby.”

“I can groan!” I’m cheered up already.

“Not theatrically!” he’s now insistent. “Authentically.”

“And the difference is…?” I’m already feeling out of my depth.

“One is pain. The other is you. Rule two: Coyne wrote about people, not abstractions. No metaphors about “brand ecosystems” or “emotional synergy.”

“Right. No synergy. No ecosystems.” I cross them out of my notebook discreetly.

“And rule three: Deep down, Kevin Coyne was tender. A bruised tenderness.
Not your usual “Federer of Feelings” theatrics.

I nod solemnly. “I can bruise tenderly if I have to.”

“God help us.” Paul starts pacing the floor, looking this way and that, on the search for something, I’m not quite sure what.

“Cigar?” I proffer. He looks at me in a strangulated kind of way and looks to the ceiling.

Want to know why Maja is so struck by the work of Kevin Coyne? Just take a look here!