Some songs hang about for years.
Pieces of them are scattered throughout time, in between work and sleep and the grind, just little unrelated snippets of music or words that seem to resonate somehow. But they never fit anywhere. Then one day, seemingly without warning, just another little melody and, there - all those pieces come together into a coherent whole. And only then do you realise that you've been writing that song not just in pieces over the past 6 months, but fragment-by-fragment in your head for years and years.
Good Morning Sunshine is a difficult one for me to talk about. I think it stands out on the record because it's so cold; in amongst a lot of really warm-sounding country instrumentation and production, Good Morning Sunshine sounds cavernous and full of dread.
A lot of that is down to a wall of feedback and ebows that run throughout the song, wavering in and out of tune throughout. And Dan Reader's monstrous and inspired drumming, which on this track in particular is just relentless. The snare sounds like the crack of a slave-driver's whip.
There was a lovely happy accident when we recorded the original demo of this. All the fader switches on the 4-track recorder rattled down to the bottom of their tracks at the same time, creating this weird mechanical whirr that ended the song. I loved it and we tried to do something similar with the monotone feedback at the end of this on the record.
This album is no personal excavation but of course all the songs are born from something. I think Good Morning Sunshine is at the former end of that tragicomic spectrum, looking into the well and seeing not hope and acceptance but only disappointment and despair.