Song of the Day: Almost Medieval by The Human League

“Anyone here like the Human League?” asks Rik on The Young Ones BBC tv show, puts it on and police come crashing in and smashes the stereo to bits!

I think, did say I was only doing a couple of “Almost” something song/s last week or was it the week before? But changing my mind again so here’s a third one this Monday morning. After a couple of Aussie bands, it’s an English bands turn with the opening track from their debut album from 1979 called Reproduction. Which has one of the oddest album front covers image of all-time: disco dancers feet/shoes dancing on top of crying naked babies under cracking glass. I’ll say it’s the best The Human League album or maybe, that should be once again my own fave one! So what’s yours, this one or something else? Here’s the reissue edition of Reproduction:

The Almost Medieval lyrics:

There’s something in your soul that makes me feel so old
In fact, I think I’ve died about six hundred times
There’s less of me now and more of me then
I’m moving back to the age of men
Jump off the tarmac, there’s no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office hangs the man on the gibbet
Soft lenses, grow to glasses
Small world, dimly seen through cataracts
Your program, newspaper
So they say
Rumor spread by word of mouth
Jump onto the escalator
Press the button on the lift
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Endless treads like waves of regret
Now it seems, I’m going madder
Falling off this rotting ladder
Soft lenses, grow to glasses
Small world, dimly seen through cataracts
Jump on to the escalator
Press the button on the lift
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Endless treads like waves of regret
Now it seems, I’m going madder
Falling off this rotting ladder
Your program, newspaper
So they say
Rumor spread by word of mouth
Jump onto the escalator
Press the button on the lift
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Endless treads like waves of regret
Now it seems, I’m going madder
Falling through this rotting ladder
There’s something in your soul that makes me feel so old
In fact, I think I’ve died about six hundred times
There’s less of me now and more of me then
I’m moving back to the age of men
Jump off the tarmac, there’s no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office, hangs the man on the gibbet
Jump off the tarmac, there’s no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office, swings the man on the gibbet