Some People Are More Equal Than Others:

This actual song was one of the ideas I had left over from the tail end of The Angels. I had played it to the band — albeit without much desire attached — and it kind of languished under my fingers for several months until it popped its head up again whilst I was rummaging around for a starting point. It is amongst my favourite songs I’ve written. It is simple in the extreme, but crucially conveys a power and majestic fervour I have always liked.

For years, I had searched for an edge that could cut through the slightly saccharine writing style I’d always naturally gravitated towards, but still retain the humour and visualisation within the lyrics. This song represents a moment of clarity in that regard. Here was a powerful chord progression that almost arranged itself, that smouldered and slithered its way into the story. I love Pete Thomas’s playing on the recording of this track — he has an innate understanding of songs and how rhythm affects the structure — and here he demonstrates that gift. It is simultaneously groovy and dynamic. I love it.

In terms of what the story holds — well, I stole the title from George Orwell’s 1945 novella Animal Farm, paraphrasing one of the most important lines from the story: “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.” I chose it because of my increasing disappointment at how the British political system was heading — and hasn’t stopped heading to this day — namely promoting selfishness, isolationism, rampant glorification of wealth above everything else, and the shameless way the poorer in society were being blamed for the ills of the country when it was and is entirely and patently the opposite.

I still feel this, but this was the moment when I felt it crystallise in one of my songs and felt it was important to say and protest accordingly.

The words came quick and fast, and contain some of my favourite couplings of all of my work so far. I try, every time I write a song, to present the idea as a poetic story — but it must also contain enough insight to make it real. I don’t like frivolity for the sake of it. I much prefer solid, imaginative sentences that deliver the point above fluff and esoteric meandering. There is a time and a place for that, of course, and I have indulged myself often on a feast of fancy — but it’s about knowing when to let fly the flaming pie and when to hold back.

More very soon,

Toby