Welcome to the Last FM page of t… Read Full Bio ↴http://www.thecorrespondents.co.uk/
Welcome to the Last FM page of the swing-hop duo, The Correspondents. MC Mr Bruce and DJ/Producer Mr Chuckles collaborate to make Hip Hop for the 1930s, Big Band music for the 00s. Splicing swing samples with squelchy synths over dusty drum loops they’ve depicted a modern day journey into time of rogues, lust, affordable clowns and foot-tapping toe curling "get your brogues on" dance floor swing beat.
The Correspondents started out in November 2007, when old friends, Mr Bruce and Mr Chuckles, returned to London after a firm schooling at their respective Universities. In Leeds Mr Chuckles had been tinkering with the sounds of Hip Hop, Jazz and Dance music for several years, meanwhile further North in Edinburgh Mr Bruce exerted his vocal dexterity over Drum 'n' Bass, Breaks & Funk. The unlikely pair cut their teeth at a few parties and decided to cement the live performance relationship in their makeshift recording studio. Since then tracks have been recorded, stages have been stomped and knees have hit nipples.
The Correspondents have shared stages with the likes (or unlikes) of Florence & The Machine, Lilly Allen, Mika, Little Boots, VV Brown, Bat For Lashes, Lazy Habits, Daedalus, Bassment Jaxx, Rob Da Bank, Rusko, Kitty Daisy & Lewis, Cuban Brothers, Brass Roots, Jocelyn Brown, Dub Pistols etc... etc...
You might have seen them at Glastonbury, Secret Garden Party, Bestival, Shambala Festival, Lovebox Weekender, The Big Chill Festival, Camden Crawl, Innocent Village Fete, Scala Amersham Arms, Bungalow 8, Soho Revue Bar, Vibe Bar, Concord 2, Bloomsbury Bowls, Art Car Boot Fair, Last Days Of Decadance, Madame Jojo's, Notting Hill Arts Club, Bethnal Green Working Men's Club, 33 Portland Place, Shepard's Bush Pavillion, 5 Cavendish Sq, Corsica Studios, Proud Camden, Village Underground, The Cobden Club, The Battersea Arts Centre, The Colony Rooms, and Selfridge's.
www.myspace.com/thecorrespondentsmusic
"The Correspondents aren't the first group you'd expect to see at a South London dubstep/fidget house night and yet their performance at Corsica Studios over a year ago had everyone quickly switching their allegience from wobbly basslines to beats over samples from 'The Jungle Book'. The skin-tight trouser clad MC Mr Bruce strode to the stage and began shaking his impossibly long legs to the beats put down by his DJ, Chuckles, and from that point on, everyone was a convert." NME.COM
“Pop also-ran Frankmusik was far more exciting, revealing his 'great voice for a white boy' but also the overly perfect future pop that's thus far prevented him finding fame with a mass audience. One duo who could, however, are the Correspondents, who filled in between sets throughout the weekend. With fast-spit rhymes over twenties flapper tunes, and MC Mr Brogues a gangly enthusiastic dancer with natty threads to match, these two deserve a stage all themselves.” INTHENEWS.CO.UK – BESTIVAL REVIEW
“My fear for the contents of my wallet and the softer parts of my anatomy were quickly replaced by joy at the sights and sounds of The Correspondents. These two dapper purveyors of swing-hop derring-do pretty much stole the show. I’m proper feeling the vaudeville approach to hip-hop (cfThe Anomalies, Krugers passim), and The Correspondents are amongst the most charming to take that approach. Everyone had a sing-a-long with them. Aww. Find them on MySpazz – you’ll be glad you did (and relieved MySpazz still has its uses).” KRUGERS MAGAZINE – DAEDALUS @ CORSICA STUDIOS REVIEW
"A stark contrast with the reaction received by The Correspondents, the Wandsworth duo who wander onto the Great Stage in the middle of the hottest day of the year and through the skatting, scratching and infectious dancing of the Mask-a-like Mr Bruce, managed to persuade everyone to forget their heat induced woes and dance like they had some serious itch to scratch. Forced back on to the stage by a fiery and pumped up crowd demanding more, Mr Bruce and compatriot DJ Chuckles then do it all over again, much to the amazement of them and their newly acquired groupies. Which goes to show the wonder that is Secret Garden Party. Hierarchies are toppled and the unknown underdogs are taken into the bosoms of the crowd while the headlining 80s superstars are made to look like, well, bosoms." LOUD AND QUIET MAGAZINE - SECRET GARDEN PARTY REVIEW
"Sunday starts with a beautifully bizarre moment, as Wandsworth swing-hip-hop duo The Correspondents enthral an unfeasibly huge midday main stage crowd with a rendition of 'I Wanna Be Like You' from The Jungle Book. After that we’re delirious putty in their capable hands and the stunned pair are summoned back for a giddy encore." WWW.VIRTUALFESTIVALS.COM - SECRET GARDEN PARTY REVIEW
Course of Last Night
The Correspondents Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Phone and bike
Yes it's all alright
But I'm sure I lost something in the course of last night
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
Yes it's all alright
Something in the course of last night
I lost a few brain cells knocked out by booze
But with millions of them, I've got tons to lose
My favorite band is waiting by the gin
So parts of last night seem a little bit dim
Some cranky old stairs leading up to a bar
A crowd of who's who bizarre
And through this mass of Soho's most curious cases,
A tangle of arms lifting drinks to faces
You,
Lips painted blood red
Eyes brown, skin white, hair black
You,
An electric blue dress
With an open back (open back)
Yes, you,
With the best taste in shoes I've ever seen
Yes, you,
Like an apparition or a dream
Yes, you,
With skin so pale you could be dead
And me,
Hypnotized by every single word you said
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you have to be so sly?
Heart ballooning in my chest
Watch it be my first light
"Do you come here often? "
Maybe, "What's your star sign?"
No, play the silent type
Drink and stare hard
Now there's sweat on my brow,
She can see through my facade
So I rise
Breath held
And grab my drink
More wasted than I thought
But, before I think,
I'm weaving through reprobates
Cleansing dandies
With hell tight tie
"Excuse me, please"
And there she sits
And there I stand
She pulls out a napkin
In her hand
I was about to speak
But then she said,
"You might need this to wipe your forehead"
She sinks the drink,
Slips from her stool
I love you more for being so cruel
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
There's only one thing to do
And that's shine my shoes, press my suit,
And cycle back to find you
I'll smell your scent
I'll hunt you down
I'll search every single bar in Camden town
Through my drunken haze
I'll know your eyes
I'll know the shape and size from a thousand sets of eyes
I'll recognize the color of your upper lip
The picture perfect application of your lips
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my core
How will you be back for more?
To find your way in and tear a piece out
Turning my chest inside out
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need to keep the tick-tock of my rib cage clock
Return that cog or it may well stop
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
But, no, it's not alright
I had something stolen in the course of last night
She slipped into my chest and has taken a bite
The Correspondents' song "Course of Last Night" is an upbeat and catchy tune that tells the story of a night out in Soho. The opening lines list the things the singer still has in his possession after a night of partying, but he feels like he's lost something important.
As the song progresses, he describes the hazy memories of the night before, including an encounter with a woman who stole a piece of his heart. He describes her in detail, from her electric blue dress with an open back to the color of her lipstick. He's smitten, but she's elusive, and he can't seem to find her again.
The chorus repeats the sentiment of something being lost in the course of the night. In the final verse, the singer laments that the woman has taken a bite out of his chest, but he still wants her to return the missing piece so his "rib cage clock" can keep ticking.
Overall, the song captures the essence of a wild night out and the longing that can sometimes follow. It highlights the transience of life and how sometimes we lose things that we can never get back.
Line by Line Meaning
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Listing the items that he still has with him after a night of drinking and partying
Phone and bike
Mentioning two more things that he still has with him
Yes, it's all alright
Acknowledging that he still has his possessions
But I'm sure I lost something in the course of last night
Expressing his belief that he lost something important during the previous night's events
I lost a few brain cells knocked out by booze
Admitting that he has some memory loss due to excessive drinking
But with millions of them, I've got tons to lose
Jokingly saying that with so many brain cells, he can afford to lose a few
My favorite band is waiting by the gin
Remembering a part of the previous night's events involving his favorite band and alcohol
So parts of last night seem a little bit dim
Admitting that he doesn't remember everything from the previous night
Some cranky old stairs leading up to a bar
Reminiscing about the location he was at during the previous night's events
A crowd of who's who bizarre
Describing the people that were present around him
And through this mass of Soho's most curious cases,
Describing his surroundings in Soho
A tangle of arms lifting drinks to faces
Painting a picture of the crowd's behavior
Yes, you, with the best taste in shoes I've ever seen
Noticing and complimenting a woman's fashion sense
Yes, you, like an apparition or a dream
Using poetic language to describe his attraction to the woman
Yes, you, with skin so pale you could be dead
Another detail about the woman that caught his attention
And me, hypnotized by every single word you said
Describing his attraction and captivation towards her
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
Metaphorically describing the emotional effect she has had on him
A slice of blood tile
A gruesome metaphor to further emphasize the seriousness of his emotions
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Expressing how important she is to him
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
Questioning how he fell for her while he was intoxicated
Heart ballooning in my chest
Describing how his emotions are growing stronger
Watch it be my first light
Suggesting that his feelings for her might be love at first sight
"Do you come here often?" Maybe, "What's your star sign?"
Thinking of potential pick-up lines to impress her
No, play the silent type
Deciding to not use pick-up lines and instead try to play it cool
Drink and stare hard
Another tactic to try and impress her
Now there's sweat on my brow, she can see through my facade
Admitting that his attempts to impress her aren't working and she can see through him
So I rise, breath held, and grab my drink
Getting up and trying to make a move
More wasted than I thought, but, before I think,
Admitting that he is more intoxicated than he initially realized
I'm weaving through reprobates cleansing dandies
Trying to navigate through the crowd to reach the woman
With hell tight tie, "Excuse me, please"
Describing the people he has to maneuver around
And there she sits and there I stand
Finally finding her and standing in front of her
She pulls out a napkin in her hand
A small but meaningful gesture by the woman
I was about to speak but then she said, "You might need this to wipe your forehead"
Showing that she is aware of his sweat and trying to help him out
She sinks the drink, slips from her stool
The woman finishing her drink and getting ready to leave
I love you more for being so cruel
Expressing a desire for her even after she was hurtful
There's only one thing to do
Knowing that he needs to find her
And that's shine my shoes, press my suit, and cycle back to find you
Making himself presentable in order to impress her and trying to track her down
Through my drunken haze, I'll know your eyes
Believing that he will still be able to recognize her despite his intoxication
I'll know the shape and size from a thousand sets of eyes
Using poetic language to describe how he will be able to identify her
I'll recognize the color of your upper lip
Believing that he has memorized specific details about her appearance
The picture perfect application of your lips
Further describing his fascination with her physical beauty
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my core
Repeating his fears that she has taken a large part of his emotions
How will you be back for more?
Questioning how she will return his emotions
To find your way in and tear a piece out
Using violent language to describe the emotional impact she has had on him
Turning my chest inside out
Further emphasizing how vulnerable he feels because of her
A vital part that I need to keep the tick-tock of my rib cage clock
Comparing the importance of her to the beating of his heart
Return that cog or it may well stop
Urging her to return his emotions before it becomes too much for him
But, no, it's not alright
Realizing that the loss of his emotions is not okay
I had something stolen in the course of last night
Stating that he has lost something significant during his previous night's events
She slipped into my chest and has taken a bite
Describing how the woman has taken and consumed a part of his emotions
Contributed by Dominic I. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@dissmaster580
Lyrics:
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
Yes it's all alright
But I'm sure I lost something in the course of last night
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
Yes it's all alright
But I'm sure I lost something in the course of last night
Something in the course of last night
I lost a few brain cells knocked out by booze
But with millions of them, I've got tons to lose
My favorite band is waiting by the gin
So parts of last night seem a little bit dim
Some cranky old stairs leading up to a bar
A crowd of who's who bizarre
And through this mass of Soho's most curious cases,
A tangle of arms lifting drinks to faces
You,
Lips painted blood red
Eyes brown, skin white, hair black
You,
An electric blue dress
With an open back (open back)
Yes, you,
With the best taste in shoes I've ever seen
Yes, you,
Like an apparition or a dream
Yes, you,
With skin so pale you could be dead
And me,
Hypnotized by every single word you said
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you have to be so sly?
Heart ballooning in my chest
Watch it be my first line
"Do you come here often? "
Maybe, "What's your star sign?"
No, play the silent type
Drink and stare hard
Now there's sweat on my brow,
She can see through my facade
So I rise
Breath held
And grab my drink
More wasted than I thought
But, before I think,
I'm weaving through reprobates
Cleansing dandies
With hell tight tie
"Excuse me, please"
And there she sits
And there I stand
She pulls out a napkin
In her hand
I was about to speak
But then she said,
"You might need this to wipe your forehead"
She sinks the drink,
Slips from her stool
I love you more for being so cruel
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
There's only one thing to do
And that's shine my shoes, press my suit,
And cycle back to find you
I'll smell your scent
I'll hunt you down
I'll search every single bar in Camden town
Through my drunken haze
I'll know your eyes
I'll know the shape and size from a thousand sets of eyes
I'll recognize the color of your upper lip
The picture perfect application of your lips
You stole an itty-bitty teeny little piece of my core
How will you be back for more?
To find your way in and tear a piece out
Turning my chest inside out
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood tile
A vital part that I need to keep the tick-tock of my rib cage clock
Return that cog or it may well stop
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
But, no, it's not alright
I had something stolen in the course of last night
She slipped into my chest and has taken a bite
@Therapy-as-Art
Somehow I missed this gem even though I've been listening to them for a long time!
@brianartillery
Spectacles, Testicles, Wallet & Watch. The secular man's way of 'crossing' himself. Taught to me [to the intense irritation of my mother, who knew that I'd repeat it like a mantra all bloody day] by my father, when I was about eight or nine. It was rude and a tad disrespectful, which was why dad thought it was great. Lovely man. :)
@jmanred
why have I never heard this song before?
@alejandromontesdeoca4575
Please someone tell me the lyrics of this song, I'm having a hard time trying to get them myself
@sollio
Hey! Not sure if you still want the lyrics but I figured other people might. If anyone has any suggestions or additions let me know! I know there are some parts missing I’m afraid, but hopefully this is good. Not sure if there’s lyrics online somewhere at the moment either
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
Yes it’s all alright
But I’m sure I lost something in the course of last night
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
Yes it’s all alright
But I’m sure I lost something in the course of last night
Something in the course of last night
I lost a few brain cells knocked out by booze
But millions of them [?], I’ve got tons to lose
My favourite band [/brand?] is waiting by the gin
So parts of last night seem a little bit dim
Some cranky old stairs leading up to a bar
The [...?] of who’s who [...?] [very unsure of this line]
And - through this mass of Soho’s most curious cases,
A tangle of arms lifting drinks to faces -
You (you)
Lips painted (you) blood red
Eyes brown
Skin white
Hair black
(You)
An electric blue dress
With an open back (open back)
Yes, you,
With the best painted [/taste in] shoes I’ve ever seen
Yes, you
Like an apparition or a dream
Yes, you,
With skin so pale you could be dead
And me,
Hypnotised by every single word you said
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood [?]
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood [?]
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you have to be so sly?
Heart ballooning in my chest
Watch it be [/beat?] my first light
Do you come here often?
Babe [/maybe], what’s your star sign?
No, play the silent type
drink and stare hard
Now there’s sweat on my brow,
She can see through my facade
So I rise
Breath held
And grab my drink
More wasted than I thought
But, before I think,
I’m weaving through reprobates
[...?] and dandies
With [... my best tied tie / head held high ?]
“Excuse me, please”
And there she sits
And there I stand
She pulls out a napkin
In her hand
I was about to speak
But then she said,
“You might need this to wipe your forehead”
She sinks the drink,
Slips from her stool
I love you more for being so cruel
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood [?]
A vital part that I need or I might bleed and die
Why did you catch my drunken eye?
There’s only one thing to do
And that’s shine my shoes,
Press my suit,
And cycle back to find you
I’ll smell your scent
I’ll hunt you down
I’ll search every single bar and club in town
Through my drunken haze
I’ll know your eyes
I’ll know the shape and size from a thousand sets of eyes
I’ll recognise the colour of your upper lip
The picture perfect application [?] of your lips
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my core
How will you be back for more?
[To find ?] your way in and tear a piece out
Turning my chest inside out
You stole an itty bitty teeny little piece of my heart
A slice of blood [?]
A vital part to keep the tick-tock of my ribcage clock
Return that cog or it may well stop
Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch
Phone and bike
But, no, it’s not alright
I had something stolen in the course of last night
She slipped into my chest and has taken a bite
@alejandromontesdeoca4575
@Sollio THANK YOU every once in a while I remember this song and I try to sing it but I can't because I can't get the lyrics by ear (only a few bits like the "Yes you" part) and I made this comment in the hopes of someone appearing one day with the lyrics and it took like a year but this is a great start this sounds at least a 97% accurate. The only thing I keep hearing differently is that I hear "The best taste in shoes" instead but I might as well be wrong, thanks again!
@sollio
@Alejandro Montes de Oca ah no problem!! I’ve been going through some of their old music recently and noticed how little attention this song has got! Sorry you had to wait so long lol. I’ll add that in as an alternative!! :)
@politonno2499
@Sollio the last chorus you put "that I need" when it isn't there
Also, the last phrase below which says core instead of heart I think it begins with "to find your way"
@sollio
@Pol Valls those sound right! I’ve just added them :)