Pondering the reasons why the world’s great songwriters have generally failed to grasp the lyrical opportunities of great urban design, Richard Crutchley – Associate at Tibbalds – reflects on the changing cityscapes and hopeless nostalgia found in an ancient Glaswegian long-player.
Between the anarchic and alcoholic study trip to Montpellier and the much more placid Urban Design and Development module (“…just because you put seats in, doesn’t mean people will sit there”), one of the more memorable moments of my five years at University at the front end of the 1990s was my flatmate’s attempt to reconcile with his girlfriend through the purchase of Del Amitri’s 1992 album, ‘Change Everything’. You’d be hard pushed to find a more downbeat and world weary view of love and romance, and the relationship inevitably collapsed shortly afterwards.
However, ‘Change Everything’ still provides my all-time favourite song about planning and regeneration. ‘Surface of the Moon’ is a lament about change, about a connection to a place and how that can so easily be thoughtlessly removed, and about how our memories and feelings are inextricably linked to the landscapes in which we live out our lives. And so, our protagonist wanders through his home town, wondering what happened:
From the well-swept streets of Jackson Heights to the dockside drudgery
Everything’s now a replica of what it used to be
And since they tarted up the trenches and painted the bridges blue
It seems less like a home to me than just a place they bury you
Coming across the places he used to sneak kisses, the unfamiliar surroundings surprise him, leading to an outstanding couplet about gentrification:
So on the ancient trails of our coupling in the places we used to meet
I am amazed by the lack of memories that I thought would flood through me
And the riverside where we first kissed has now been reduced
To a phoney old world market where only shoppers get seduced
Without even mentioning masterplans and public engagement, I find the impact of redevelopment on communities is central to the lyrics, and the disappointment of change and the removal of the sense of belonging is made to feel almost inevitable. I’ve found it a useful reminder in my work over 25 years and regularly go back to it.
I mentioned above that ‘Surface of the Moon’ was my all-time favourite song about planning and regeneration. This was achieved by default, as my list only runs to one song. Development management and plan-making is shockingly under-represented in the pop charts.
Or so I thought.
Non-curricular research has reached me from the corridors of a north London planning department which suggests that the pop charts may, in fact, be alive with references to planning and development, albeit usually lyrically tangential. I give you, therefore, a brief overview and ask you for your suggestions…
The Darkness // Planning Permission
I’m a man with two good hands, two good hands and a plot of land
And I’m on a mission, I’ve got a vision and a planning permission
Joni Mitchell // Big Yellow Taxi
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
Pet Shop Boys // Suburbia
Stood by the bus stop with a felt pen in this suburban hell
Living in a Box // Living in a Box
Am I living in a box?
The Housemartins // Build
Clambering men in big bad boots dug up my den, dug up my roots
Treated us like plasticine town, they built us up and knocked us down
Sophia Anne Caruso // No Plan
This is no place, but here I am
Pete Seeger // Little Boxes
Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes all the same
Arcade Fire // The Suburbs
Dolly Parton & Porter Wagoner // Making Plans
Madness // Our House
The Members // Sound Of The Suburbs
Fifth Harmony // Work from Home
XTC // Making Plans for Nigel
Queen // One Vision
Dexys Midnight Runners // Plan B
Starship // We Built This City
Oasis // The Masterplan
And with that, back to Gary Davies.