Paint Never Dries

I’m still jet-lagged and could barely sleep last night. I lay in a pool of sweat with un-used melodies and the dog-ends of hundreds of conversations whirling about in my head. I started worrying about the motet, wondering what on earth I’m doing, and why. I’m almost constantly out of my comfort zone and the weight of responsibility is heavy upon my shoulders. I showed some of it to my soprano friend, Hilary, last night who had to remind me that although most sopranos have the high notes I’ve written, most won't have many of them before their voices get tired and pack up. Damn.


I’ve just heard the “single” from Lloyd Webber’s Love Never Dies or Paint Never Dries as the bitchy bloggers are calling it. Is it just me, or does the chorus have an uncanny similarity to the “single” from the same composer's Beautiful Game?

For a comparison, see the glorious Hannah Waddingham singing Our Kind of Love from Beautiful Game here

And then have a listen to ghastly Catherine Jenkins singing the very same song with a new set of lyrics here(Pay particular attention to her wonderful acting skills and listen out for the moments when her voice sounds like a honking oboe.)

I’m not sure why Lloyd Webber would choose to rip himself off in this way. Love Never Dies is a sequel – but it’s not a sequel to Beautiful Game, which is all about football, and not about a Phantom. Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps he’s surrounded by so many "yes" people that no one felt they could point it out. Or worse still, perhaps his music has become so generic that no one bothers to listen to it properly anymore!

On Friday 9th March 1660, Pepys finally agreed to go to sea with his master, Montagu. He’d spent a few days mulling over the offer and finally acquiesced in the auspicious surroundings of the Painted Chamber at the Old Westminster Palace. There were a number of practicalities which would need to be dealt with. Someone would have to do Pepys’ job at Mr Downing’s office whilst he was away. Someone would need to look after his wife and maintain his household. As the day went on, Pepys obsessed more and more about the changes. He drank himself silly at Harper’s Pub, and then couldn’t sleep. The entry ends with one of Pepys’ first promises; "to drink no strong drink this week, for I find that it makes me sweat and puts me quite out of order"

These promises would become more regular as the diary progressed; and would frequently involve decisions to drink less alcohol alongside vows to limit his theatre visits and avoid sleeping with other women. Pepys was constantly wrestling with his inner Puritan...