Never a Frown

The Stranglers released the song “Golden Brown” in 1981. It was written by Hugh Cornwell. He said the song “works on two levels, it’s about heroin and also about a girl. Both provided me with pleasurable times.”

It’s one of my favorites and provides immense pleasure for my ears. I just love the melody and will happily listen to it 5x in a row. Below you’ll find the original and below that, a gothier version by Marian’s Joy. Lyrics posted as well. About a month ago I was at a dinner party and ended up sharing a joint with a few people later in the evening. We’d already been enjoying some wine. I hadn’t smoked weed in about a year and thought, “Why not.” I never made a habit out of it or bought any, but if I was with some people who were offering then sometimes I’d accept. Anyhow, this particular experience was strange and mostly unpleasant, probably because of the alcohol mixed in. I was comfortable with the people around me. The only other girl there also had a couple hits. She hadn’t smoked in about a year, either.

She and I were hit hard – after a few minutes we both had to sit down because we felt like passing out. We sunk into the couch and one of the guys turned on an art show. We spoke deeply about art and her art in particular since she was a ceramics artist. Her latest projects were these part human, part dolphin pinup statues. Two cats came over and settled onto the couch with us. It was helpful having something to pet because I was feeling quite strange, like my head was a balloon that had drifted up to the clouds and I might black out at any moment. It was then that I left my body and floated around the room, surveying my surroundings. This was the girl’s home – her and her boyfriend’s, actually. It was filled with all kinds of art and wonderful knickknacks.

Eventually I swam back to my body, and that’s when the girl sitting next to me said, “I’m going to light a candle.” I nodded appreciatively. She struck a match, but instead of lighting the candle, she looked at me, smiled, and rested her hand holding the match on her lap. I smiled back. Her skirt caught fire. We gazed at the pretty light for a little bit. One of the guys wandered over. “Ummmm,” he said, and pointed at her lap. She squealed and jumped up, grabbing a magazine and smacking her skirt until the flame died.  After all that excitement she went straight to bed and I left as well – and yes, someone else drove me home. I felt awful the next morning. That’s all, folks. Just reminiscing about drugs since I’ve been listening to “Golden Brown” a lot this week. Here it is for your enjoyment:

Golden brown texture like sun
Lays me down with my might she runs
Throughout the night
No need to fight
Never a frown with golden brown

Every time just like the last
On her ship tied to the mast
To distant lands
Takes both my hands
Never a frown with golden brown

Golden brown finer temptress
Through the ages she’s heading West
From far away
Stays for a day
Never a frown with golden brown

Never a frown
With golden brown
Never a frown
With golden brown
Never a frown
With golden brown
Never a frown
With golden brown