Another 'Cold Sweat' Day

'I put my money in a suitcase
And headed for the big race
Felt a chill down my backbone
Hung up on the telephone
(nee-nanana-nee-nanana)
'Stone cold sober and stone cold sweat
Is running down the back of my neck
To lose means trouble
To win means double
 And I got me a heavy bet'(breath.... dum-dum-dum-dum


'Cold, cold... Sweat!'
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)

'Gotta chill on the outside
Don't know how to read or write
Gotta pain on the outside
Ready but don't wanna fight
'Stone cold sober and stone cold sweat
Is running down the back of my neck
To lose means trouble
To win means double
 And I got me a heavy bet'(breath.... dum-dum-dum-dum


'Cold, cold... Sweat!'
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)

'Stone cold sober and stone cold sweat
Stone cold crazy
Take me to the vet'

[As deciphered from 'Cold Sweat' by Thin Lizzy]

Music can be many things. Able to impart a kind of energy by altering one's mood, it is arguably at least as powerful a drug as caffiene when employed correctly. I find that it helps spur me on, keep me going. I know that I am not alone in this, but I may perhaps be alone in how I use it when I ride a pedal-powered bicycle. Now as you may or may not be aware, I use a pedal-powered bicycle as my main form of transport. I do not consider myself a 'cyclist' just as I do not consider myself a 'driver': those two terms in particular tend to be used as if they were mutually exclusive, whereas they actually describe someone transporting themself from one place to another using one or another mode of carriage. So just as, in the future, I may well be a 'person who teleports' but not a 'teleporter', I am presently a person who cycles a lot but who also drives, walks, etc. I am not a cyclist, I cycle. I will expand upon this subject another time but suffice it to say that words matter; what particular word one employs matters. My good hiking buddy Tat Drumer illustrated this once by very astutely using the word 'real' where others might have employed 'true': I took note. But to continue on my original theme: the last few days (going all the way back to Friday at least, thinking about it) have been 'Cold Sweat' days because the above lyrics and the tune to which they swing have been what have helped power my riding; from Brentford to Bermondsey, Elephant and Castle to Highbury and Islington, Acton to Old Street, 'Cold Sweat' has travelled with me, edging out all competition - even Pentagram, and considering I saw them live on Friday, that's impressive. There are more reasons than the mere catchiness of the song: the stone cold sober line certainly chimes with me at present and I do sweat a lot.
If you look up Thin Lizzy's song from which they originate you will see that mine differ slightly: I have presented what has been bouncing around my head, complete with approximations of my approximations of the instrumental lines which fit between the lines. As you might have gathered, 'Cold Sweat' has been my soundtrack for the past two days because it has been lodged immovably in my head (the way 'Thirty-Two' was on my ride back from Tufnell Park): I have not been using a music player this past week. It is a great feeling being powered by music, whether it be originated from your head and amped by your voice or plugged into you via earphones. As with driving, you just have to keep your mind on the work of navigating the road while you enjoy your soundtrack.
For the pleasure of my past couple of days with 'Cold Sweat' I have to thank my friend Dongalong (he has to use the childrens' urinal, such is his size) for repeatedly spinning his highlights of 1983's 'Thunder and Lightning' at me at high volume. He refuses to be interviewed but thankfully another friend, Jon Lindqvist, may well be persuaded to impart his thoughts on the record another time. He is particularly sharp when it comes to explaining band's works in terms of the stage of their career they appear.
 'Cold Sweat' became part of a compilation I have been perfecting since 31st of October when I went on an incredible and very enjoyable ride with a bunch of other people. I will speak of that also another time but for now I will just say that it did involve me doing a rather fine job of singing the first verse of 'War Pigs' down the Brompton Road, an event I wish I had recorded. I mention all this because in working further on that compilation today I came across a rather delicious section of 'Cold Sweat', where Phil Lynott attempted to make four consecutive lines rhyme with the same sound:

'I've got me a whole month's wages
I haven't seen that much in ages
I might spend it in stages
And move out to Las Vegas'

You can actually head how he almost decides to force 'Las Vegas' into a grotesque shape, but he stops short of embarrassing himself. I hope I have managed the same above, but my next post will definitely have less 'I's...