Portishead ❀ 〈Small〉 (song) 🎶

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A Portishead song. Dreary, dismal, depressing — small.

“Portishead ❀ 〈Small〉” amazon

Like fine wine, this song takes quite some chewing to know its taste. The song is close to 7 minutes. It is a story, told in 3 stages.

In the first minute, you are invited to a warm place. Tranquil and cozy. Soft guitar music waltz in the background. You are lying on the sofa, in rapture with the hostess's story, and indulgent in the warmth.

Then, at 1:10, all of a sudden, you realized something is wrong. Terribly wrong. You weren't welcomed. You weren't invited. You weren't in some cozy room. You are actually amidst a alien ritual, and you are the target of ridicule.

At 2:30, the inevitable sets in. Cold, harsh, industrial. Like clockwork, it repeats, unerringly, screaming.

If I remember the night that we met
Tasted a wine that I'll never forget
Opened the doorway and saw through the light
Motions of movement and I felt delight

She spoke of freedom, “A way in,” she said
“A wisdom that took me away from the bed”
Spoke of the glory that we had become
I felt forgiven in all I've become
Small, tasteless and flawed
Hoping to see, blinded like me
You tried to understand
But you're just a man
Hoping to score just like me

Failure again, tried to pretend
Who you were then, Who you are now

Hating the lord, Hating the lord
Hating the lord, hating the lord
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