Her feline eyes closed ever so gently, as a soft sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips. Her fingers found their way into her rebellious, wild curls, twirling just momentarily, before resuming their original tap dance against the cracked wooden table. She was alone in her world.
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when my wife and I stumbled upon Singapore’s best kept secret; Leeson. A blend of dance and pop hooks concentrate induced with serious words of such poetic honesty; Leeson creates music that places you on an emotional pedestal with confusing polarity. It wasn’t a surprise my wife fell in love that day.
Music to my wife is what Art is to me. We live and breathe our passion, we wither and die without. Recognizing her appreciation for Music and Leeson, it was only natural for me to explore the idea of having the band produce a song especially for her. For someone as special as her, an off-the-shelf Louis Vuitton bag just doesn’t quite match up.
I approached Brian, the bassist of Leeson whom I thankfully know on a personal level, and pitched my idea with bated breath. I respect the band a lot, and I did not want him to think I was, in anyway, feeling otherwise. Fortunately for me, he didn’t think I was some melodramatic lesbian preoccupied with impressing some girl and getting laid, and agreed to speak to the band for me. They agreed, in a positive if not rather amused note, if I may add.
So there we were, my wife and I, at Big Ears Studio down at Onan Road on a Sunday night, witnessing our love being celebrated (forgive me for the drama, the song is after all, about us). The band, seasoned musicians that they are, recorded the song rather seamlessly in spite or not having practised the song together before. That bit’s my fault really. I didn’t give them enough time at all. They were burning their precious Sunday night away recording a song in time for my wife’s birthday. In a way, it makes the final product a hell lot more honest, doesn’t it?
Dear Brian, Jamie, Gerald, Thomas and Mark of Leeson, and not to mention Ronald (for coming to our rescue at the last minute):
Saying thank you does not do you any justice.
You allowed a couple of lesbians into your lives for one night, and blessed us with a euphoric experience like no other. And you didn’t ask us to kiss for the camera.
You did not laugh at us, for our cheesiness. Instead, you respected us. More importantly, you took pride in your craft. I would’ve died personally, if I had to play a verse repeatedly until “that is perfect”.
The Paperbag Girls is not just a song you have produced. It is Pride you showed. It is Humanity you embraced. It is Love you celebrated.
My wife and I thank you for that. Thank you for being part of our lives.
Enjoy the song with us.