I look around me. My palace is festooned with gold discs and trophies. A myriad of photographs adorn the walls. They comprise people of all ages, from all of earth’s countries. And all these people are engaged in the same activity.
There are thousands of celebrity faces: Hollywood stars, pop singers, politicians, sports stars. There are photographs of royalty; our very own queen of Britain even features, obviously not wanting to be exempt from this craze that has pervaded the planet.
I turn around and focus my attention on the large collection of photographs of beautiful women that fill this particular section of the room. They’re all smiling great big smiles. I recognise that smile all-too-well; that’s the smile of a lady who has spent some quality time with David Eagle. How many beautiful women have graced my life over the last year? I lost count after the first month.
As my eyes move around the room, I observe the immense magnitude of what I have created. All these people: politicians, pop stars, footballers, actors, beautiful ladies, children, animals – even the extra-terrestrial life form that we dramatically became acquainted with at the end of 2012 – all looking back at me, wearing wide smiles. And of course, everyone of them is engaged in that same ubiquitous activity: nose rubbing. Because 2013 is the year of the Eskimo kiss. And it’s all thanks to me!
A year ago today was when it all began; July 21st 2012. Who would have thought that this day would have been the catalyst for all the fame, all the awards, all the celebrity parties, all those women? Certainly not I, as I took my seat for what I assumed would be an innocuous and uneventful train journey. But as the train pulled away from Newcastle station and made its course to York, I was starting an altogether different journey, one which would prove to be much more significant and life changing.
There’s a part of this story missing. It will have to stay missing I’m afraid as I have no idea what it is. I am not aware of the event that caused what happened to happen. I assume that there must be some reason why my brain would suddenly become super-active and start rapidly churning out the lyrics to a song about Eskimo kissing. But I cannot imagine what possibly made such a thing occur. I had no plans whatsoever to write a song, and I had not been conscious of thinking about or hearing anything relating to Eskimo kissing, yet here was my brain spontaneously composing a whole song on that very subject.
I spent the first half of the train journey typing profusely on my laptop as I try to keep up with my crazed brain’s lyrical deluge. By the time the train had reached Darlington I had a document with pages of lyrics. At this point my brain eventually capitulated its relentless spewing, and I was able to look back over what the heck I’d actually written. I liked it; but I couldn’t possibly use all these words, there was too much.
Half an hour later, the train pulled into York. I closed my laptop, satisfied that I had managed to redact the reams of words down to a three verse song.
As I walked out of the station and down the street, I ran through the song in my head. I knew it off-by-heart; it was as if I’d known it for years. I felt fully alive and energised by this odd event. But what to do about it? Surely I am too busy to spend time recording a silly song about Eskimo kissing. But I couldn’t get the song out of my head, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to ignore its hold over me. This whole experience had been too potent for me to simply ignore and do nothing about.
I arrived at my friend Ben’s house. We were meant to be going out in York for my birthday, but when I arrived at his house and he asked me what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go, I instantly replied, without any deliberation “I want to record my novelty hit song, and I want to go to number one”. And so, instead of celebrating my birthday by going out drinking, we spent the night and early morning recording the song that a few hours ago hadn’t even been conceived. And Ben no doubt mused on why he couldn’t have opted for a normal friend who was happy to just go out on a Saturday night and drink himself almost to oblivion.
So that’s the first part of my plans kind of achieved. The song is recorded. Getting to number one will probably be a little more tricky, and take a little bit longer. I say that I have “kind of” achieved the first part of my plan, because the recording of this song is probably only going to be the demo version, as it was recorded in a bedroom in 8 hours. But it’s a good place to start. If I’m going to get to number one though, we’ll have to make a professionally produced pop recording with an accompanying music video.
On Thursday evening I will upload the song and release another blog post. Then I will await your thoughts. Then we’ll take it from there. I have got ideas for the video and I want you all involved. I shall explain more when you have heard the song.
In the meantime, enjoy your final day of sanity before you are thrown into the brave new world – a world that is united by the Eskimo kiss. Mark my words: in 2013, the Eskimo kissing song will be everywhere. But tomorrow, it will be hear, for the first time. So, until tomorrow friends …
We’re Eskimo kissing tonight,
We’re Eskimo kissing tonight,
You’re my Eskimo girl, I’m your Eskimo guy,
Touch my nose, don’t be shy.