FEATURE

By Caitlin Ward

Two Left Feet
By The Holloways

Hello, I found a stitch to wear and came out tonight
But everybody looks at me like some kind of tramp
’Cause I, I wear these holey jeans well heaven forbid
And send an angel ’cause I need somebody tonight, somebody tonight
Won’t you take my hand up, don’t let me go
I need somebody tonight, somebody tonight
CHORUS
Well I can’t really dance, but baby won’t you dance with me?
And if you want to take a chance, then baby take a chance on me
Where we gonna go, where we gonna go, where we gonna go
At the end of the night?
I don’t care, and I don’t mind å
As long as you keep holding me tight
Every night all the boys and girls are busy saying, “all right?”
I know I know your face but I’ve forgotten your name again
I blame the alcohol that swims round my brain
I need a drink because I need some joy in my life
I need joy in my life
Won’t you take my hand up, don’t let me go
’Cause I need some joy in my life, I need joy in my life
CHORUS
I’ve got your number, I’ll call you up some time
And if you’d like to,
Say that you’ll be mine
I would like to see you again sometime
I would like to see you again sometime
CHORUS

**********

Dancefloor

By The Holloways

I was standing on the dance floor and a pretty thing caught my eye
She was looking at me, smiling at me and now she’s dancing with me
So I must be pretty, if I’m standing here with people like you
I must be pretty, like you
We departed the dance floor
And we fought our way to the bar
I had just enough for her wine
So I bought her drink, she necked it down
She lit a cigarette and blew smoke in my eye
And I started to cry, and she laughed in my face
CHORUS
Please tell me, where are my friends when I need them now?
Where are my friends when I’m alone in the night time?
I’ve got a feeling for the dance floor,
’Cause they’re playing my favourite song
There’s such a buzz about this place
Wait a minute, all my friends are gone
CHORUS
Alone in the night time
Please tell me how do I get home?
And how will I find love tonight in a loveless city?
It must be getting near closing time, so don’t turn on the lights
This night’s as young as we are, we’re not ready to go
And now you’re standing on the street side
And your sweat will turn to ice
And all your money’s gone ’cause you went and
Spent it all on some stupid fucking girl
CHORUS
Please tell me how will I get home
I’m so alone, in the night time
Please tell me how will I get home
how will I get home tonight?
I haven’t got no money
And how will I find love in a loveless city?

London band The Holloways have had a rough time of it. Their first album, So this is Great Britain? did well for a debut by an independent band — good reviews and a decent showing on UK charts dominated by boy bands and imported rap.

The good news ends there. The master tapes for their second album were destroyed in a house fire sometime in 2008. This sad occasion was followed by half the band quitting to pursue more sensible occupations like managing nightclubs, so lead singer Alfie Jackson and bassist Bryn Fowler soldiered on with a reformed band. Second album No Smoke, No Mirrors, released at the end of 2009, received mixed reviews. Probably because it was a bit crap. But really, the fact that they managed to release a sophomore album at all is a feat in itself, so unlike the New Musical Express, I’m going to cut the band a bit of slack. But let’s talk about their first album, instead. You know. The good one.

Thematically, the album ranges from annoyed political comment to being young and silly. In truth, it tends to swerve more toward politics, but musically, the whole album is so upbeat it’s easy to think, “hey! Calypso!” instead of, “my, they are quite angry, aren’t they?” There’s a strange disconnect as a result — it’s disconcerting to find yourself happily singing along to a song called Fuck-Ups. In fact, along with certain songs by Happy Mondays and Kings of Leon, I’ve had to add several Holloways tracks to my list of Songs You Can’t Sing in Public, Especially When Children Are Present, Even If They’re Catchy.

The funny thing is, though, that there’s a lot more depth to mine in their songs about being young and silly than there is in their songs about political comment. The thing about political comment in art is that it tends to be quite blatant. There’s not much more to say about the song Great Britain than that The Holloways are worried about the cultural and political agency of their nation. On songs like Dancefloor and Two Left Feet, however, there’s a whole social and spiritual world that opens up when you pay attention to the lyrics.

I’ve often thought that on some level, Dancefloor and Two Left Feet are actually the same song. Not in the sense that they sound the same, because they don’t, really, but in that they’re about going out for the night with an unerring sense of hope. They both take place on dance floors (likely in North London, as that’s where the band is from), and they’re both about looking for love. The difference between the songs is that on one night, the singer finds what he’s looking for, and on the other, he doesn’t.

Two Left Feet ends with the singer saying to this girl who danced with him, “I would like to see you again sometime.” Dancefloor, on the other hand, ends with the singer standing alone half-drunk on the road with no way to get home, alternately saying, “how will I find love tonight?” and “how will I get home tonight?” as if they were equally urgent predicaments. Believe me, though, I’ve been alone on the side of a road late at night in North London, and finding love ranks well below getting home.

Fortunes turn on a dime — especially on a night out. As these two songs demonstrate, you can go out to the same place with the same preparation and same attitude and have a completely different result by night’s end depending on things that are far beyond your control. The significant thing about these two songs is, I think, the impetus behind them, and not necessarily the very different endings that the same impulse can yield.

Many of us have had nights like this — and days, probably, as well: going out with a sense of yearning, not always (or even often) for love. It’s the belief that there’s something out there that will make this better: this life, this reality, this existence. When you’re young, you tend to think that drink and parties and people will help you find it. But you soon realize there’s not much stable about that. You might find that larger thing occasionally, but more often than not you find yourself “standing on the street side, and your sweat will turn to ice.”

That’s not to say you should stop going out. There’s something beautiful in that wanting, because it’s the belief and the intrinsic understanding that this is not all there is. There’s something bigger, something awe-inspiring, something better in this than simply this. And we, as humans, tend to look for the right things in the wrong places: trying to find self-actualization in a lover instead of ourselves; trying to cage the divine in lock-stepped rules instead of surrendering our will to a higher power we can never understand; looking for euphoria on a drunken dance floor when you have no control over what else is going to be out there. No wonder we fall down so often. But the fact that we keep looking — well, that’s what makes us human.

Ward is a freelance writer and aspiring documentary filmmaker based in Saskatoon. You can find her short bursts of insight and frustration at http://www.twitter.com/newsetofstrings