Two brilliantly delivered, drily humorous tracks by the Glaswegian band from their most recent album. They focus on the paradox of suffocating city summer life, and insecure youths kicking off into mindless violence, with beautifully simple guitar riff echoing the main main vocal melody. The Just Joans, founded in 2005 by siblings David and Katie Pope, are a sparkling example of witty, original home-recorded lo-fi indie. Like a Scottish equivalent to Half Man Half Biscuit, with a dash of The Magnetic Fields, their songs contain gently acerbic, winsome, social observation and wordplay and a warm, winsome melancholy. These two songs are from the 2020, fourth LP, The Private Memoirs and Confessions of The Just Joans, which has fuller band sound than their previous releases. Out on Fika Recordings, more of their work can be found and bought here.
It’s summer in the city
Get out the way
The days are just a blur
Faster, faster
The streets are none too pretty
Urban decay
Graffiti at the bus stop
Says something quite unpleasant
You need a holiday
Two weeks in the sun
But then you come back
And it’s all the same
And you’ve got twelve months
To count down again
This suit is suffocating
This tie’s too tight
Somewhere a phone keeps ringing
Louder, louder
My heart is palpitating
Fight or flight
Helter Skelter, Alka-Seltzer
Jesus Christ, I’m almost forty
You need a holiday
Two weeks in the sun
But then you come back
And it’s all the same
And you’ve got twelve months
To count down again
Take me to a beach
Where my dreams seem within reach
For a week or two
Fly me to the sun
Where the fun has just begun
And the seas are blue
For me and you
You need a holiday
Two weeks in the sun
But then you come back
And it’s all the same
And you’ve got twelve months
To count down again
Holiday
Holiday
Holiday
Wee guys
Not looking for trouble
Wee guys
Don’t even have stubble
Wee guys
Got nothing to do except spit
Wee guys
And so they stand on their corners
Wee guys
They’re just defending the honour
Wee guys
Of this patch of the town they call home
Somebody looked at him
Then someone said something
The kitchen knife came out before a punch was even flung
Now Bobby’s got a punctured lung
Wee guys
Well, nobody meant it
Wee guys
It’s just so hard to prevent it
Wee guys
Boys will be boys after all
Wee guys
The cops have been asking
Wee guys
But nobody’s grassing
Wee guys
That’s not how it’s done around here
Somebody looked at him
Then someone said something
The kitchen knife came out before a punch was even flung
Now Bobby’s got a punctured lung
Another Friday night
Another daft wee fight
Nobody seems quite sure how it even all begun
Now Bobby’s got a punctured lung
Bobby’s big brother says he’s gonna knock him out
Bobby’s big brother says he’s gonna knock him out
Bobby’s big brother says he’s gonna knock him out…
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