Day 56: “Scarred For Life” – Slap Happy

!!!ITALIANO!!!

Today we welcome a friend’s suggestion again, who proposes a sophisticated song by Slap Happy avant-gard pop trio.

The project was born in 1972, from the idea of the english keyboards player Anthony Moore, who decided to create Slap Happy with his german girlfriend Dagmar Krause (voice) anche his friend and american guitarist Peter Blegvad. In the same year was recorded their first album, Sort of,  which did not have a great success, maybe because the group did not want to play live. But this event did not stop the trio, which was in studio already the next year, to record their second album, Casablanca Moon, where it is possible to see a music evolution, searching a larger audience, playing tracks more pop than previous.

But it was with the music label change, from Polydor to Virgin Records, that Slap Happy had the right success. With a second recording of Casablanca Moon, impoving compositions, themes and tecniques, they became one of the Virgin most noted band.

They are not an ordinary pop band. With the last two albums, coming into a more modern age, Slap Happy made extensive use of layering and other studio effects, maybe losing for some fans their acoustic sign, but always creating pleasant tracks like the one chosen for today.

Scarred for life – Slap Happy

Leave me something to remember you by,
more than a lock of your hair.
Leave me scarred for life, show you really care.

You can do it with kindness, keener than a knife.
Just by making yourself scarce
you can leave me scarred for life.

We walked arm in arm with madness and every little breeze
whispered of the secret love we had for our disease.

Leave me something so I won’t forget,
more than a nick or a scratch,
to remind me that in you I met, in you I met my match.

Nothing on the surface,
I don’t want it to show.
Something I can hide inside
so only you & I will know.
You know I’d do the same for you
leave me scarred for life.
And if we never met again
for all the time we spent
leave me with a tender spot.
something permanent.

We walked arm in arm with madness and every little breeze
whispered of the secret love we had for our disease.

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