The Beautiful South Cakeshop Ludlow Street, New York City, NY 6 November 2006 Courtesy of Whistling in the Dark (while we were just eating cake)
While ticket sales don't always work out the way they should. TBS made the most of their time in New York - replacing their Monday Irving Plaza gig with a freebie in the Bowery at the "Cakeshop".
01 Especially For You 02 The River 03 Pretty Things 04 Manchester 05 Old Red Eyes Is Back 06 Prettiest Eyes 07 Paul's Poem 08 Rotterdam 09 One Last Love Song 10 Perfect 10 11 Let Love Speak Up Itself 12 Don't Marry Her
Performers: Paul Heaton - vocals Dave Rotheray - guitar Dave Hemingway - vocals Alison Wheeler - vocals Tony Robinson - trumpet/backing vocals Gaz Birtles - backing vocals Kev Brown - backing vocals Sean Welch - backing vocals
Paul also unveiled a new poem, aka something from his lyrics journal without any music written:
Poem About Everything and Naught
When hip-hop's selling perfume And boy band's selling grief The blues man's market life insurance just won't flip underneath Jazz just chucks its concrete into transparent handkerchief Everything is anything to anyone
The butchers sell you pantyhose The supermarket sells you land And the news really likes to read the news but he's also in a band And feminism's fast asleep with a cock in either hand Everything is anything to everyone
Modern, modern man is a man of many lives So we decorate, we imitate, we duplicate their lives It's the sound of octopuses giving infinite high fives Everybody's business is show business
And the indoors wants you Oliver And the outdoors wants you Audi The bank they want a Tex or Hank And the mic wants Pavarotti Kitchen, garden, wardrobe, property in the sun Everything is anything to everyone
The newsagent sells you holidays The travel shop sells you sand The local vicar saves your soul But he also saves the damned Nothing's black and white no more Just permanently tanned Everything is everything to everyone
Locate, locate, locate Locate the victim's house Swap their wives And take their lives And turn them inside out Nothing left in closet Nothing left in doubt Everything is anything to everyone
Modern, modern woman Is juggling many lives Duplicating, decorating, imitating lives To the sound of a million whistling wolves From the ground of a thousand building sites Everybody's business is show business
And the thin are getting thinner And the big are getting bigger Till 5 and 75 year olds worry about their figure The big are getting bigger The thin are getting thinner Till everyone is looking at everyone else's dinner And we shave our heads to make us look thin Till the whole fucking Earth's of fat bald skin To the fitness instructors and the owners of the gym I see piling down from the balcony of the trim And there's your space, MySpace, their big mouth Turns everything and everyone inside out Your tube, Me tube, everybody spout Everything is anything and naughtis fucking naught
