#576: Ode to Andy

Somewhat of a recluse,
stopped touring in the 80s
on the brink of your heyday,
debilitating anxiety took
you forever off the stage
but not from the studio,
thanks be. Skylarking,
a masterpiece, found you
working and fighting
with Todd Rundgren
to make the greatest
record of the decade,
for me, perhaps, the
greatest of all time.
I don’t know
a whole lot more about
you. I think you’ve been
married more than once,
I think you have children
that are now grown.
I know you still live
in Swindon, as does your
former writing partner,
with whom I think you
had a falling out.
This makes me sad.
I know you’re still writing,
those e.p.’s you made
with Robyn Hitchcock
and that new band called
The Three Club Men.
Terrific stuff but not
enough. I don’t know
what your plans are.
What I know for sure
is that your music
changed my life
and my heart and
my brain, all to the good.
A life without XTC
would be a diminished
life, a dimly lit room,
a road traveled only
by tumbleweed, an
ugly duck. You’re the
only artist whose entire
catalog I’ve purchased
at least three, maybe
four times over, just
because, you know,
the surround sound mix,
the vinyl, the expanded,
the remastered.
I forgive you for not
making another record
with Colin, but I don’t
think I could forgive
you for quitting. So
don’t do that, please.
Andy, don’t do that.