Imagine a drunken Friday night in the rainy big city, where following a flickering neon sign that states ‘Club’, you and your loved one stumble down a chipped concrete stair, throwing your £5 at the doorman – anything to find a place to take shelter from the storm. The velvet lined basement you enter is almost tropical, the wetness evaporating into the close air of the small room. Everywhere you can see is full of glitter; drapes, tinsel, even on the small crowd that has gathered. The room is half full, with a low small stage to one side. On it stands an ageing troubadour, his clothing gothic, his demeanour melancholy. Glamour by George Cosby is the song that, in my imagination, he would sing.
Glamour is taken from his EP A Savage Kiss, out today on Yucatan Records.
George Cosby - Glamour