Come Tell Me You Love Me

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Followers of the band will remember the romantic travails of our guitarist Dee Sharpe, spurned by a barmaid in Broughty Ferry’s premier hostelry, The Ship Inn. You might be forgiven for thinking he would have got over it by now, but Dee is a man who holds a candle until it burns his fingers and still can’t let go.

In an effort to cheer up my friend, I accompanied him to a meeting with a therapist, Dr. Anna List, recommended by our keyboard player, Gene Poole-Skimmings. Gene had visited her for help with some of his antisocial behaviors. To be honest, those behaviors persist just as strongly, but Gene now cares even less about them, which he counts as a success.

Recalling just how unpleasant Gene had been as a patient, Dr. List was at first reluctant to work with Dee, but she soon realised what a lovely bloke he is in contrast to his band mate and listened attentively as he struggled to explain his predicament. Seeing his difficulty in finding the right words, she suggested that before his next session he should put his feelings into a song. So that afternoon we went back to his Granny’s house and asked if we could use her spare bedroom to record this song.

At Dee’s next therapy session, Dr. List suggested that, if he really wanted to exorcise his feelings, the best way to do so would be a live performance. Keen to support our friend, we closed the show with it to a rapturous reception at our live performance on April 1st of this year.

I don’t know if Dr. List’s professional insights will succeed in helping Dee get over his lost love, but I think I noticed a certain spark between them which might do the trick if allowed to develop in less formal surroundings. Just not the Ship Inn.

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