Upcoming Concerts for Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Paul Heaton
Vocals
Jacqui Abbott
Programming
Stephen Large
Piano
Maisie Heaton
Vocals
Pete Marshall
Drums
Chris Wise
Bass Guitar
Jonny Lexus
Guitar
Up North Session Orchestra
Strings
Sarah Brandwood-Spencer
Violin
Karen Mainwaring
Violin
Natalie Purton
Violin
Jess Hall
Violin
Sam Parker
Violin
Alistair Vennart
Viola
Katrina Brown
Viola
Liz Hanks
Cello
Maya Kashif
Cello
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Paul Heaton
Composer
Jonny Lexus
Composer
Stephen Large
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Williams
Producer
Gaz Hadfield
Recording Engineer
Tim Thomas
Mixing Engineer
Ian Stewart
Assistant Recording Engineer
Tim Debney
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
When you've had your John Travoltas
And the fonzes have run dry
And that disco boy
Has busted his last move
The cartwheel and the back flip
Have propelled them into sky
And the cocksure kid's
No longer in the groove
When the elbows of the hipsters
They have bumped and they have ground
And moonwalked their selfish butts
Into the sea
On the outskirts of the dancefloor
In Club Paradiso
Is the spot that you will find
Two-left-footed me
Two left feet, a tender heart
A flat of unpaid bills
On the outskirts of the dancefloor
By the lake of lager spills
Ankle-deep in alcohol
Shoulder-deep in shame
The outskirts of the dancefloor's
A different game
Back in 1940s
When tap and ballroom hit
Leaving every non-astaire
In deep despair
Even in that golden age
Half the folk would sit
And wonder what on Earth
Had brought them there
If you've ever seen your lover
Swept up off their feet
And waltzed away
In someone else's arms
On the outskirts of the dancefloor
In Club Paradiso
Is the only place you'll ever
Work your charms
Two left feet, a tender heart
A flat of unpaid bills
On the outskirts of the dancefloor
By the lake of lager spills
Ankle-deep in alcohol
Shoulder-deep in shame
The outskirts of the dancefloor's
An idiot's game
For every swinging, twisting, bopping
Lindy-hopping Mac
At least another ten of us
Were embarrassed at the back
And when Elvis and his giddy mates
Were twisting by the pool
It left we of little confidence
Decidedly uncool
Uncool
Uncool
Uncool
Uncool
Uncool
Uncool...
Writer(s): Jonathan Ralph Noblett, Paul David Heaton
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