SECOND VERSION
My coworker (let's call him Jules) has a different approach, though, dividing the song into the same 3 parts but associating it with water/ice, wind/air currents and fire, respectively. Jules' interpretation of the song is somewhat reminiscing of the video. His point of view is more adult, more personal, with darker tones : it's based on his (now defunct) sister who married a foreign guy, but he was prevented to pay visit to her - and what my coworker feared most happened after she divorced and left without a trace.
So Jules asked me to put his interpretation up, and it's a different one from mine. Here, no post-breakup recovering, it deals with either suicide or a brutal death, and in Jules' case : remembrances of his sister until she got married and unhappiness of having lost her. Here, taste has an importance too : the taste of defeat, better than the one of a great victory, and for Jules, 4 define the defeat : fresh mint, mangoes, crème brûlée and American cigarettes (Philip Morris brands such as Chesterfield or Marlboro would be the narrator's favourite - the full flavored ones, not the gold ones).
INTRODUCTION
The narrator (let's call him Erik) has had no news of his sister (Caroline) for a few months. Last time he saw her (March-April), she told nothing to her brother and other sister (Cam) and wanted to be alone, and about 3 months later (so in June), she leaves without a trace. Erik and Cam were prevented by their brother-in-law (Matthieu) to visit Caroline, because she would only visit them once a year and vice versa.
ACT I
The narrator recalls his adolescence. It turns out that the 3 siblings had big fun during summer holiday, about 10 years before the main event takes place ("Touch my hand, listen to me"). Cam, Erik and Caroline enjoyed drinking with ice cubes in their glasses and bathing with their friends ("I'm laughing"), but none one of them could imagine that the latter would marry a foreigner and the 2 former would be frustrated to see her less than before. Erik would be his sisters' advisor and guide until each of them gets married. He sucks Polo Mints to sweeten his breath and all 3 them drink mango juice.
Apparently, 4 years before the main events, Caroline has divorced Matthieu, and has gone homeless or placed in an institute ("I know, is over this way"). The siblings wants their sister to overcome the divorce and want her back in their country. And one day, apparently early October, Erik and Cam are both told that their sister had died from intoxication in the flames of her institute - none of them witnessed the sad event, so they don't know : either she took her life by throwing a flaming match in a gas jerrycan or a fire destroyed her habitation and she died while sleeping. (Some can misunderstand the line as "one day, she woke alone and burnt alone")
ACT II
Judgement day : probably the anniversary of Caroline's wedding, and here comes the main event. The narrator, now an engaged/married man in his mid-thirties, looks more the sort of a (not so) clumsy and shy guy - have a look at singer/lyricist Martin Barnard in the video, and then you'll understand. He wears glasses to hide his tears, or because his vision doesn't like heavy lights (as does Bono, the U2 singer - IMHO Mr. Barnard jokingly appears as a younger lookalike of him, more with blond hair though), or because he has stage fright - and so does Erik. It's 10am, windy outside ("old dummy day") and the narrator doesn't go to his former summer holiday destination anymore, he hates what the surroundings have become now that his sister is deceased ("I hate the world/word it's sad to see", the main highlight from Martin's relaxing and hypnotic voice), this feels like some weight on his shoulders, but does not feel suicidal at all, since he can count on his fiancée/wife. The wind has taken his sister, and he fears like he could be the next one ("kill our nightmare"). The taste of crème brûlée would fill most of this part, since Erik eats well but is a light sleeper.
INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE
Here comes the perfect match, just before the climax, the strings intensify. In the video, the "perfect match" would be in Martin Barnard's appearance : a dark coat and light-tinted glasses, that looks so 1997, so English, so elegant, in one word : irresistible. But have a look at the matches disposed on a table and cigarette butts in ashtrays. Back to the interpretation : same day as Part II, it's the early evening taking place, 10pm, his fiancée/wife is probably downstairs but Erik wants to be alone for a while after coming home late, upstairs in his desk. Curtains closed (unless it's a rainy night) but the window remains open, phone off, door locked - please, no one to disturb him (hey hey, that's my ideal arrangement to listen to this song).
ACT III
The narrator remembers his sister's favourite colors (no other mention here), and is about to strike a match to put some light on his poem (Erik is a poet) - fortunately, he didn't engage/marry a foreign girl ("could make the same mistake") and he is alone, sitting at his desk, about to write a poem, but the problem is that he smokes too much while doing so (he's been a cancer stick addict since he is 13 - sorry, he doesn't vape). He knows that smoking is bad, he fears he has throat cancer and his fiancée/wife is about to stick patches on his arm, but not now - the narrator takes a pack of Chesterfields and a box of matches from his coat pockets cause he needs one (I could almost feel a straining in Martin's voice from now on), getting ready for the climax. After sparking the gasper (the one that will last until the end of this act), Erik lets himself go into a reverie, French inhaling, making fun of his oh-so-hated former brother-in-law ("something tells me that you have something on all of us now"), and taking one puff and another with closed eyes and slow moves with his right hand, as if his sister was watching over him.
Then, a fire breaks into Erik's lungs and causes his heart to beat faster and his eyes to outpour condolences ("Hold the sun down, hold the moon down"), the proof that a man can cry because of what could be his deepest puff, and a deep cut into his mind too. The narrator holds hands to the ceiling and tired of retaining the smoke, he forcefully exhales the aching ("only relief is to slip through the nets") - an allusion to his sister's sudden passing in a fire. Then, despite his blurry eyes and some cough, he sees the glowing tip is close to the filter ("hold a minute, stop a minute and go, oh"), at least he notices the ashtray and disposes the ciggy in the middle, with too little left to be burnt. Erik feels half relieved, still conscious, still strong and hearing a final signal ("breath, breath"). Finally he can put a Polo Mint in his mouth (and the fresh mint taste returns as it did at the beginning), unlock the door of the desk and put the phone on as before, and he may call his fiancée/wife to come upstairs for some more relief after the smoke clears - but I don't think he would be able to complete the poem about his late sister.
Jules says it's not clearly autobiographical, there is a part of fiction in his interpretation too.
Just listen to this song on sloppy and rainy nights, with ayurvedic incense and mint sweets close to you, in October, it's just overwhelming and seducing when sadness and nostalgia are taking over you - Bristolian trip hop hasn't faded 22 years later. And I sang it yesterday late in the afternoon, doing a "perfect match" with Martin Barnard (although not equaling the lower notes, mine sound deeper), but not copying the singer/lyricist millimeter by millimeter - when singing at the climax, tears came to me later than while listening. Crying would come just a little while after the end. And again ! Tomorrow will be better.
SECOND VERSION My coworker (let's call him Jules) has a different approach, though, dividing the song into the same 3 parts but associating it with water/ice, wind/air currents and fire, respectively. Jules' interpretation of the song is somewhat reminiscing of the video. His point of view is more adult, more personal, with darker tones : it's based on his (now defunct) sister who married a foreign guy, but he was prevented to pay visit to her - and what my coworker feared most happened after she divorced and left without a trace.
So Jules asked me to put his interpretation up, and it's a different one from mine. Here, no post-breakup recovering, it deals with either suicide or a brutal death, and in Jules' case : remembrances of his sister until she got married and unhappiness of having lost her. Here, taste has an importance too : the taste of defeat, better than the one of a great victory, and for Jules, 4 define the defeat : fresh mint, mangoes, crème brûlée and American cigarettes (Philip Morris brands such as Chesterfield or Marlboro would be the narrator's favourite - the full flavored ones, not the gold ones).
INTRODUCTION The narrator (let's call him Erik) has had no news of his sister (Caroline) for a few months. Last time he saw her (March-April), she told nothing to her brother and other sister (Cam) and wanted to be alone, and about 3 months later (so in June), she leaves without a trace. Erik and Cam were prevented by their brother-in-law (Matthieu) to visit Caroline, because she would only visit them once a year and vice versa.
ACT I The narrator recalls his adolescence. It turns out that the 3 siblings had big fun during summer holiday, about 10 years before the main event takes place ("Touch my hand, listen to me"). Cam, Erik and Caroline enjoyed drinking with ice cubes in their glasses and bathing with their friends ("I'm laughing"), but none one of them could imagine that the latter would marry a foreigner and the 2 former would be frustrated to see her less than before. Erik would be his sisters' advisor and guide until each of them gets married. He sucks Polo Mints to sweeten his breath and all 3 them drink mango juice. Apparently, 4 years before the main events, Caroline has divorced Matthieu, and has gone homeless or placed in an institute ("I know, is over this way"). The siblings wants their sister to overcome the divorce and want her back in their country. And one day, apparently early October, Erik and Cam are both told that their sister had died from intoxication in the flames of her institute - none of them witnessed the sad event, so they don't know : either she took her life by throwing a flaming match in a gas jerrycan or a fire destroyed her habitation and she died while sleeping. (Some can misunderstand the line as "one day, she woke alone and burnt alone")
ACT II Judgement day : probably the anniversary of Caroline's wedding, and here comes the main event. The narrator, now an engaged/married man in his mid-thirties, looks more the sort of a (not so) clumsy and shy guy - have a look at singer/lyricist Martin Barnard in the video, and then you'll understand. He wears glasses to hide his tears, or because his vision doesn't like heavy lights (as does Bono, the U2 singer - IMHO Mr. Barnard jokingly appears as a younger lookalike of him, more with blond hair though), or because he has stage fright - and so does Erik. It's 10am, windy outside ("old dummy day") and the narrator doesn't go to his former summer holiday destination anymore, he hates what the surroundings have become now that his sister is deceased ("I hate the world/word it's sad to see", the main highlight from Martin's relaxing and hypnotic voice), this feels like some weight on his shoulders, but does not feel suicidal at all, since he can count on his fiancée/wife. The wind has taken his sister, and he fears like he could be the next one ("kill our nightmare"). The taste of crème brûlée would fill most of this part, since Erik eats well but is a light sleeper.
INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE Here comes the perfect match, just before the climax, the strings intensify. In the video, the "perfect match" would be in Martin Barnard's appearance : a dark coat and light-tinted glasses, that looks so 1997, so English, so elegant, in one word : irresistible. But have a look at the matches disposed on a table and cigarette butts in ashtrays. Back to the interpretation : same day as Part II, it's the early evening taking place, 10pm, his fiancée/wife is probably downstairs but Erik wants to be alone for a while after coming home late, upstairs in his desk. Curtains closed (unless it's a rainy night) but the window remains open, phone off, door locked - please, no one to disturb him (hey hey, that's my ideal arrangement to listen to this song).
ACT III The narrator remembers his sister's favourite colors (no other mention here), and is about to strike a match to put some light on his poem (Erik is a poet) - fortunately, he didn't engage/marry a foreign girl ("could make the same mistake") and he is alone, sitting at his desk, about to write a poem, but the problem is that he smokes too much while doing so (he's been a cancer stick addict since he is 13 - sorry, he doesn't vape). He knows that smoking is bad, he fears he has throat cancer and his fiancée/wife is about to stick patches on his arm, but not now - the narrator takes a pack of Chesterfields and a box of matches from his coat pockets cause he needs one (I could almost feel a straining in Martin's voice from now on), getting ready for the climax. After sparking the gasper (the one that will last until the end of this act), Erik lets himself go into a reverie, French inhaling, making fun of his oh-so-hated former brother-in-law ("something tells me that you have something on all of us now"), and taking one puff and another with closed eyes and slow moves with his right hand, as if his sister was watching over him. Then, a fire breaks into Erik's lungs and causes his heart to beat faster and his eyes to outpour condolences ("Hold the sun down, hold the moon down"), the proof that a man can cry because of what could be his deepest puff, and a deep cut into his mind too. The narrator holds hands to the ceiling and tired of retaining the smoke, he forcefully exhales the aching ("only relief is to slip through the nets") - an allusion to his sister's sudden passing in a fire. Then, despite his blurry eyes and some cough, he sees the glowing tip is close to the filter ("hold a minute, stop a minute and go, oh"), at least he notices the ashtray and disposes the ciggy in the middle, with too little left to be burnt. Erik feels half relieved, still conscious, still strong and hearing a final signal ("breath, breath"). Finally he can put a Polo Mint in his mouth (and the fresh mint taste returns as it did at the beginning), unlock the door of the desk and put the phone on as before, and he may call his fiancée/wife to come upstairs for some more relief after the smoke clears - but I don't think he would be able to complete the poem about his late sister.
Jules says it's not clearly autobiographical, there is a part of fiction in his interpretation too.
Just listen to this song on sloppy and rainy nights, with ayurvedic incense and mint sweets close to you, in October, it's just overwhelming and seducing when sadness and nostalgia are taking over you - Bristolian trip hop hasn't faded 22 years later. And I sang it yesterday late in the afternoon, doing a "perfect match" with Martin Barnard (although not equaling the lower notes, mine sound deeper), but not copying the singer/lyricist millimeter by millimeter - when singing at the climax, tears came to me later than while listening. Crying would come just a little while after the end. And again ! Tomorrow will be better.