Different Windows
CD – Track notes, play-links, lyrics and guitar tab
Some songs have a link in the title
to a recording of the song
(free to play or download).
1 "When a couple in love have found their dream house, what could possibly go wrong? The lyric for my title track, Different Windows, was selected by Poetry Now magazine as a poem for their anthology When the Picture Unfolds. This song has a tricky guitar (and fretless bass) accompaniment with both 5/4 and 4/4 time signatures, and a sad ending. Track 14 below is an instrumental guitar version of this song."
Different Windows
The estate agent met us at half-past three. She’d
brought the key with her to show us round,
to view the house where our hopes were hanging. Could it be ours? We liked
the sound
of the lovely location, spacious accommodation, vacant possession and
all mod cons.
The agent said “A desirable property. This’ll soon sell –
we’ve had a good response”.
She unlocked the door and she swung it wide.
We saw a parquet floor. We stepped inside.
We looked at each other and both of us tried
to imagine that here we might reside.
The bedrooms were carpeted, but downstairs
our shoes clumped and clattered as the boards were bare.
We went hand in hand to the window where
we pulled back the blinds for a pensive stare.
Although we were in the same room, we were looking out of different windows.
Each could see how it would be when a few more years had painted in those
little touches and transformations to make a home that signs our names;
but our visions were not matching through our separate window frames.
Mine looked on to a garden with worn grass under a squeaky swing,
a scruffy cat sunning in the cabbage patch, an upturned trike and a rubber
ring.
His looked on to a garden with expensive shrubs to impress his friends
and little box hedges all along the edges, and colour schemes right for
the latest trends.
I saw a kitchen with a big wooden table and jammy fingermarks all up the
wall.
I saw a trail of muddy footprints to a small pair of wellyboots in the
hall.
He saw a kitchen with everything fitted, dark grey glass and stainless
steel,
wine rack, juicer, wok and ramekins ready to prepare some gourmet meal.
I heard laughter from a squashy old sofa, violin practice out of tune.
He heard Elgar, Mahler, Wagner, from the hi-fi in the music room.
I smelled baking, Plasticine, orange peel, antiseptic for a graze.
His air-freshener smelled of jasmine; refill every forty days.
The estate agent came at four o’clock. I unlatched the lock sadly
and let him in.
The valuer came in the pouring rain. He didn’t say much, just chewed
his pen.
And now I’ve waited, packed and crated; removal van is due at nine
–
it turns the corner. Different windows. Different visions, his and mine.
________________________________________________________
2 "How is it possible that, whilst Cod are facing commercial extinction, another equally delicious species flourishes despite annual catches of two million tons? The Hake Song considers how the differing lifestyles of two closely related and otherwise very similar gadoid species brings about a significant difference in their vulnerability to exploitation pressure. If you listen closely you may spot Captain Pugwash..."
The Hake Song: a lecture in fisheries biology
The Hake is an ambush predator — she lies in wait
for her prey;
She hunts all night near the surface of the sea and rests in the deeps
all day.
She lays her eggs in batches; she spawns the whole year
through.
She leaves her fry wherever she goes — it's the sensible thing to
do.
The Hake is not found shoaling. She lives alone and proud;
She roams the ocean all by herself so she won't get caught in the crowd.
Hake are like stars in the night sky, scattered from shore
to shore,
So however many Hake the fishers can take, there are always plenty more.
But the Cod are in deep trouble. They go around in schools.
The fishers know where to find the Cod, and they all get caught, like
fools.
When the Cod are feeling amorous, they go to the spawning
ground:
same time, same place, every year — they are very easily found.
Cod lay eggs by the million, but not till the age of five.
The fishers catch mostly the immature Cod, so fewer each year survive.
So when you're choosing your dinner, remember to ask for
Hake;
and should anybody ever ask you why, you can say, "It's for Cod's
sake".
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3 "I Don’t Write the Songs, I only write them down. This song is not related to any other with a similar title."
There's a lovely song that I heard on the morning.
It's a lovely song, one I never knew.
So I listened to it, until I knew it. Now I bring it, and sing it, to
you.
I don't write the songs, I only write them down.
Artists are taught: you draw what you see.
Capture what you hear, never interfere, go along with the song —
set it free.
(It must be the same for the poets and
writers, waiting for the right word or phrase to use.
Then comes inspiration to fire creation and I guess that they call it
the Muse...
All your songs are given to you for a reason. I think you should share
them, so don't be coy.
If you hear a beauty, you have a duty to recall it for all to enjoy.
I don't write the songs, I only write them down.
Don't know where they come from, but not from within.
They're not my creation, more like dictation from outside that I try to
bring in.
Some, I know, can start with a blank piece of paper, or a chord or two
on the old guitar.
With a wondrous craft and a lot of graft they can create something great
we admire.
Other songs, like mine, seem to come from the ether, all I have to do
is a minor hone.
I can't claim the credit, I only edit. I could not do a lot on my own.
I don't write the songs, I only write them down.
Songs are a gift we should never ignore.
If we fail to use them, or we abuse them, then we may not receive any
more.
If you get a song on your mind, listen to it. Learn it and remember and
sing along.
You may not have tinnitus or schizophrenia, and you may have today your
new song.
As it keeps repeating the words and the music, it will let you know if
you have it wrong.
It will not be distant, will be insistent in your ear, so clear and strong.)
When I got the tune for my song, 21 Days,
I already had all the words complete.
Big exam next day, in my bed I lay; I'd revised and was trying to sleep.
Then I heard the tune, with the words singing to it.
All the chords were there, ringing in my head.
I was woken by it and longed
to try it, but I dare not, and stayed in my bed.
All through the exam I could hear it behind me, in me
and beyond me and all around.
I was so afraid it would surely fade away when I lay my pen down.
But it was still there, and I biked home in triumph,
singing it out loud in my strongest voice.
No-one knew what to think as I stormed the Inner Link —
Norwich, listen — you don't have a choice!
I don't write the songs, I only write them down.
They have to be how they want to be.
Even if they're strange, never try to change them, just arrange them a
little, maybe.
There's a lovely song that I heard on the morning.
It's a lovely song, one I never knew.
So I listened to it until I knew it. Now I bring it, and sing it, to you!
____________________________________________________
4 "There are certain guys who, despite many excellent qualities – being highly intelligent, diligent, single-minded and emotionally self-sufficient – fail to command much respect amongst their peers. This song In Praise of Nerds aims to redress the balance – and to highlight another of their even more admirable characteristics often overlooked."
The Nerd may lack a sense of style. His anorak has long
been out of fashion.
Before you mock, remember, all the while — the Nerd has PASSION!
He sits beside the railway as the loco thunders by,
his spirit roused so he can hardly look.
The wind blows gritty eyes so he can barely see the number —
but he writes it in his Ian Allan book.
He moves the model soldiers all around the field of battle.
His fervour grows as he confronts the foe.
He knows the moves of Monty, and Napoleon, and Rommel,
and he recreates those battles long ago.
He sits at his computer screen for hours in his bedroom,
but all around the globe his thoughts take flight.
He photoshops his photo and he puts it up on Facebook,
his fingers tapping far into the night.
So let's respect this guy and his desire to seek perfection!
Perhaps a nerdy girl could catch his eye?
We know the passion's there, but it just needs some re-direction,
and harnessing it must be worth a try...
The Nerd may lack a sense of style. His anorak has long been out of fashion.
Before you mock, remember, all the while — the Nerd has PASSION!
_______________________________________________________
5 "Abstinence of any sort is unfashionable I suppose. This is a poignant song. Well, it’s about suppressed lust, and you can’t get much more poignant than that, can you?"
Abstinence
(Makes the Heart Grow Fonder)
You make me sparkle and perspire. I so admire you, but have to face down
my desire.
Should you feel the same, and care to cool the fire, here's a little epigram
to ponder:
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder
I'll adopt this motto, which is to remind me, when I wistfully want to
wind
myself around you, like an anaconda:
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder
You're not free, but we can still be friends.
We hold hands... we hug... but there it ends.
As I'm smitten, this is what I'll do:
Enjoy the music — and admire the view...
Miss Non-Flammable?
Not where you're concerned! And we don't want to get our fingers burned...
So, where my naughty heart's inclined to wander,
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder
Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder
_________________________________
6 "What are women looking for in a man? Diamonds and Hot Dinners? Find out here."
Diamonds and Hot Dinners
What do you give to the man who has everything?
Some girls would say, ‘Give him your heart’!
I don’t set my heart on diamonds
They’re no good to me
They just add a cold sparkle
To my vanity
Diamonds and hot dinners
Lamborghinis and perfume
Apart from the hot dinners
I wouldn’t give them house-room
Some girls like a big wallet
I think they are silly
I look for a man’s best part
He has to have a big ...
*heart*
Diamonds and hot dinners
Diamonds and hot dinners
Leave the jewellery to the slimmers
You’ll do for me
___________________________
7 "21 Days/Under Your Heart makes a stand on a controversial subject but is disguised as a standard pop love song. Listen to the words literally to find out what it’s really about."
Twenty-one days! My heart is beating, as it's never been
beating before.
I belong here, so let me stay here just for not-really-many weeks more.
Twenty-one days! My heart is beating, and our miracle has begun.
We are both in this position, but I'm too defenceless and young.
I never asked to be your baby, so asking now might seem selfish;
but if I can't be yours for this precious short time, I can never be anyone
else's.
Spare me a little of your life! It doesn't have to be for ever —
but you'll always be number one to me if you decide we stay together.
To you now I am a burden — but all too soon we'll be apart.
Give me the chance of a lifetime. Let me stay here under your heart.
_______________________________________________________
8 "I’m sometimes asked whether this song, I Was Tempted, is autobiographical. But I’m not saying."
I was tempted — but I resisted.
My glass was emptied and my eyes were misted.
The lights were low, and the music slow and sweet.
The guy was charming, and I know he hoped I'd cheat
my own dear darling, who trusted in me.
Tried every trick he knew to try to win me.
But I made excuses, said I had to go...
Oh! I was tempted. But I said 'No'.
Cheap thrills don't come cheap.
They cost one's dear ones dear.
There's a price to pay in bitterness,
regret, remorse and tears.
No use saying, 'It didn't mean a thing' —
that may be true,
but it means the world to someone close to you
I know I've cheated and deceived him in the past,
but now I've made a promise that the last time was the last.
When somebody cares, it isn't fair to cause him pain,
and I'm not prepared to see him hurt again.
I was tempted — but I resisted.
My glass was emptied and my eyes were misted.
The lights were low, and the music slow and sweet.
The guy was charming, and I know he hoped I'd cheat
my own dear darling, who trusted in me.
Tried every trick he knew to try to win me.
But I made excuses, said I had to go...
Oh! I was tempted. But I said 'No'.
___________________________
9 "Dolly Latex is my most requested song and has a bluesy feel."
Dolly
Latex
(this song was also recorded by Bright Spark)
As I walked past the sex-shop, doing nobody any harm,
My ex-true-love came out of the door with a big box under his arm.
He tried to hide the label on the side of the box that said:
"Dolly Latex – life-size model – every man's desire in
bed".
She never gets broody. She never gets moody –
Dolly is all he wants a woman to be.
Airhead she may be – he calls her his baby,
And then he always lets her down, just like he did me.
I know he's happy with his girl of rubber –
He's so much better off than ever he was with me.
He doesn't have to be polite to her mother,
Or take her out when the England game is on TV.
When he's speaking, Dolly never interrupts:
She listens open-mouthed whatever he has to say.
She doesn't remark on his shortcomings or talk too much,
And Dolly's always quiet when he's had a bad day.
Dolly Latex never expects costly presents
Or keeps him waiting while she fixes her make-up or her hair.
It doesn't matter that she has no dress-sense –
Dolly never complains she hasn't a thing to wear.
She has her own pump and a puncture kit in a plastic bag.
Her pneumatic-looking boobs are quite a size.
Her waist is tiny, and her cheeks will never sag,
And not a hint of cellulite defiles her thighs.
She's captured his heart. She's state-of-the-art, Dolly Latex –
Her battery-powered voice soon sets his senses all aflame.
She has thirty-two moans of pleasure among her sound effects,
But she has to call him "Big Boy" as she forgets his name.
He knows neither he nor Dolly need ever be jealous –
With her his deepest worries he can safely confide.
He knows she'll never look at other fellas,
But he locks her in his bedroom just to be on the safe side...
She never gets broody. She never gets moody –
Dolly is all he wants a woman to be.
Airhead she may be – he calls her his baby,
And then he always lets her down, just like he did me.
___________________________________________
10 "News, Weather and Archers is a long song written in a mock music-hall style to reflect the world of my parents, who were elderly and eccentric even from my earliest childhood. The song presents a series of scenes from my sad and misunderstood upbringing, with musical illustrations."
"Let's have the wireless on, Duck," my Dad would
say to my Mum,
News, Weather and Archers, dum-te-dum-te-dum!
But the wireless was never for music — we couldn't have Radio One...
It was switched off after The Archers, dum-te-dum-te-dum.
When I was a very small girl at school, our teacher, Mrs Hum
(and yes, that really was her name), said: "Music Time, Class One!"
We each had a shaker with little gold bells, and Mrs Hum thumped out a
tune
upon the piano. We all went "Ching, ching". I got bored quite
soon.
I began some improvisation. I bipped when the other kids bopped,
and I was just starting to explore some most interesting and exciting
cross-rhythms
when the piano STOPPED...
"I'll take that, THANK YOU, Heather, as it's obvious to me
you've no sense of timing whatever — what a sad disability! (Isn’t
it, Children?)"
So that day I came home in tears and blubbed it all out to my Mum,
who said: "Never mind, dear, the Archers is on!" Dum-te-dum-te-dum!
My Mum was a teacher at Park View School, so other kids thought it was
fun
to knock at our door and run away in order to rattle my Mum.
If they came carol-singing at Christmas, she'd invite them excitedly in
—
"Heather, go get your recorder, and Gilly your violin!"
She'd gather us round the piano and everyone had to sing
all the verses all the way through. Then my Mum, with a manic grin,
would say "Well, now, wasn't that lovely? Oh, DO let's all sing another!"
—
and she'd launch us into the next one as I pulled a face at my brother.
She would keep the kids there all the evening, until they wanted to die,
and never gave them any money — though the good ones might get a
mince pie.
Once they'd escaped, they'd warn classmates — “Go carolling
anywhere,
but never at number twenty-three. That mad Mrs Wells lives there.”
"Let's have the wireless on, Duck. It's just gone five-to-one":
News, Weather and Archers, dum-te-dum-te-dum.
My Mum used to have a piano, and Dad thought that I ought to play;
I learned to plod through 'Abide With Me’ – then they gave
my kitten away.
I composed a lament in his honour, and played it and sang and cried
to blunt the loss and the emptiness I had churning around inside.
"What's that she keeps playing?" said Dad to Mum, as I thundered
it all day long.
Mum said:"That's just something she's made up herself, so of course
it's not a Real Song".
"Let's have the wireless on", said Dad.
"Is it that time already?" said Mum.
News, Weather and Archers, dum-te-dum-te-dum.
There was pop music Saturday mornings, but we weren't allowed it at home,
so I decided to save up for a radio of my own.
I worked in Woolly's and got up early to do my paper rounds,
And bought a little transistor to listen to all the latest sounds.
"You can't do your homework with THAT row on!" — as essays
flew from my pen —
208 beneath the sheets... transmission fading when
my favourite records came on;
"Horace Batchelor", and "The time
by my H Samuel Everite Watch"... Radio London ... Caroline –
I played them all;
and my parents played theirs until their ears were numb,
News, Weather and Archers, dum-te-dum-te-dum.
I couldn't afford a drum kit, so I bought a guitar instead.
My Dad banned “twanging” in the house, so I hung it over my
bed.
I needed somewhere to practise... then I met this guy on the bus —
he said "I live at 334; you can come and play with us..."
Now, 334 was a hippy commune with a very bad reputation;
so I went and practised my scales amid scenes of debauchery and copulation.
And then I'd go home. "Is that you, dear? Just put the radio on —
we might just catch the Archers!” Dum-te-dum-te-dum.
After such an upbringing, I bet you're wondering how
my sister and I are growing up to be so normal now...
And so my song is over; and all that's left to do
is to thank you, Gilly, for listening – you know that every word
was true.
_________________________________________________________
11 "Tales from the Riverbank was the theme tune for a children’s television programme and was taught to me by my first guitar teacher, Derek Brimstone. The very similar classical piece on which it seems to be based is called Andante and differs mainly in the bassline."
_________________________________________
12 "Tinker Tom is a short instrumental written by a handsome young man, Rod Copping, about his cat. Rod kindly taught me this piece. I had a bit of a crush on him, but I don’t think he ever noticed I was a girl."
_________________________________________________________
13 "Arthur’s
Gone to Avalon is a magical, mystical song in 14/8 timing
by Norwich songwriter
Mick Hardy."
Arthur's
Gone to Avalon
(recorded by "a Little Uneasy...")
I wonder what the world was like a long, long time ago.
I wonder who the people were, who built the standing stones.
Monuments from ancient times, silent mysteries,
cold relics of some golden age they left for you and me.
Arthur's gone to Avalon. He's only sleeping, so we're told.
He'll come back here when he's called, Pendragon King from days of old.
Merlin's still there in the wood, he'd like to help us if he could.
It's down to us to hit the trail, go through the Wasteland, find the Grail.
I've walked along the ancient roads. I've walked along the leys
in search of distant memories, a taste of former days.
I heard a distant melody. It wasn't very clear.
A sound resounds through history. It echoed in my ear.
Arthur's gone to Avalon. He's only sleeping, so we're told.
He'll come back here when he's called, Pendragon King from days of old.
Merlin's still there in the wood, he'd like to help us if he could.
It's down to us to hit the trail, go through the Wasteland, find the Grail.
___________________________________________
14 "In response to requests by fellow guitar freaks, an instrumental version of Different Windows(track 1 above)."
_________________________________________________________
More FREE Tabs on these album pages
Please click on the red links to access each page of track notes,
tabs, lyrics, pictures and links to free-to-listen/download audio.
Different Windows was my first
album, recorded on minidisc and released in 2000 on cassette and in 2001
on CD. All are now sold out, and there are no plans for reissue.
My second album, Sleeping Dogs
Never Lie, released in Summer 2013, has all-new recordings
of ten songs and two instrumentals as the main album, and also includes
the whole of the Simplicity Suite,
a collection of short and easy pieces in classical style. These
are useful teaching or practice material, and nice enough to play in public.
Some additional tracks, currently mostly in demo form, can be heard via
this SoundClick
music page; tabs and links for some of them may appear here
on Travelling Records in due course.
All constructive comments on the tab are welcome. I have also put up some tabs for my own arrangements of some well known songs and instrumentals on a Secret Tabs page... yes, that link should take you there... Ssshh!
I am happy for my songs and instrumentals to be performed by anyone, anywhere,
in any style, with two provisos:
1. that an honest attempt is made to represent the spirit of the song
fairly; and
2. that I am credited by name for it, for example, "This is a song
by Heather Enid Wells".
A few extracts from reviews...
"Original, witty, sensitive, articulate, down-to-earth - those qualities are the characteristics necessary to qualify for a Rychard Carrington black belt in singer-songwriting. Ladies and gents, I proudly award this coveted honour to Ms Heather Enid Wells, who thus joins an illustrious pantheon that includes Loudon Wainwright, Jonathan Richman, Peter Buckley Hill, Peter Blegvad and John Otway.
The first female beltwearer indeed. I can’t think of any other female singer-songwriter who can write about “love” without going off into vague abstractions, emotions detached from real world detail. It takes humility and courage to write lyrics as frank and sensitive as those of ‘I Was Tempted’, and the result is one of the most moving songs I've heard. The subject of ‘Dolly Latex’, a woman's revenge on an ex-lover seen purchasing a blow-up doll, guarantees an interested audience, but the sustained acerbic wit observes male attitudes with, so to
speak, forceful penetration. ‘In Praise Of Nerds’ is touching where it's so easy to be mocking or sentimental. ‘News, Weather and Archers’ goes on a bit, but lays bare the tribulations of the singer's childhood with powerful restrained feeling. And all the other tracks are very good as well.
Heather Enid Wells gigs in the Norwich area. I’m not predicting that she’s going to be a big star, I’m just telling you that she deserves to be."
– Rychard Carrington, Rock’n’Reel Magazine
"Heather Enid Wells comes from Norwich and her songs are very different... There are a lot of original ideas here and a set of most unusual and personal songs... Heather is a most entertaining act to see live in a club setting... Such an original singer, song writer and guitarist deserves a hearing. Just a thought: This lady could sing jazz."
– Simon Brown, Folk on Tap Magazine
A good selection from singer-songwriter-guitarist Heather – one of the most popular performers on the local acoustic circuit. There’s some witty, clever and sensitive writing in News, Weather & Archers, the title track (Different Windows) and 21 Days/Under Your Heart, and Heather plays well throughout."
– Brian Gaudet, Eastern Daily Press
"...Making her debut Midlands appearance at two local folk clubs, Heather offers a sideways and often hilarious look at life on topics ranging from blow-up dolls to the mating habits of fish. Other songs show a more sensitive side with bittersweet reflections on her own childhood and experiences as a woman.
"Heather is a popular figure on the Norwich music scene, playing guitar and bass in rock and roll and jazz line-ups. She ran a successful showcase session for two years offering new musicians a chance to play in public..."
– Pete Willow, Coventry Evening Telegraph