It’s possible that I’m losing it. If I ever had it, that is. Because despite Clapton being one of the dreariest figures in music (apart from the racism, which was at least interesting) and this song being cut from the same sort of cloth as Chris De Burgh’s wretched Lady in Red (that kind of blokey ‘my beautiful lady wife’ business), I do like it. But why?
The tune, that’s why. Even the irritating, treacly guitar that starts the song and runs throughout can’t mask the fact that it’s playing a lovely melody. The melody of the vocal line, too.
As for the lyrics. Well, they’re okay. A bit sickly. You get the whole song in the first verse and the rest is just padding out the theme. I imagine your Jeremy Clarkson types are supremely moved by them.
So yes, it’s the overall tune that gets me. It’s odd because although I’ve heard the song many, many times over the years it seems to have cropped up all over the place in the past few weeks. The final straw came when I heard a busking clarinetist performing it in Cromer on Sunday: I finally gave up and accepted that I really love the tune.
Now if only someone decent would have a go at it.