In My Life – The Beatles These lyrics are so profound that they are less a meditation on love, but on life (if they can be so divided). They almost speak for themselves. Here’s the first two verses: There are places I remember All my life though some have changed Some forever not for better Some have gone and some remain All these places had their moments With lovers and friends I still can recall Some are dead and some are living In my life I've loved them all
 When we are able to say ‘I’ve loved them all’ and not seek revenge, not flinch from the embarassment, pain and…

Hi, Phil Greaney here. Martin is away on holiday, so I'm taking the reins here at Ed-Techie again. Today's guestblog is in three parts and it's on songs of love, songs of hate. Time Passes – Paul Weller The movement from anger and resentment to sadness, uncertainty and curiosity is often subtle and imperceptible. As time passes, feelings change and we find acceptance. Paul Weller summarises this beautifully in his song ‘Time Passes’. Here’s the opening verse: I saw you today, or at least I think it was It's hard to say, we've both changed so much Compelled to look, but I hid my face It's hard to trace –…

Hi, Phil Greaney here. Martin is away on holiday, so I'm taking the reins here at Ed-Techie again. Today's guestblog is in three parts and it's on songs of love, songs of hate. You can find my blog here. Living Well is the Best Revenge – REM Imagine the scene: a former couple meet, only weeks after their break up. Unable to avoid one another, they embark upon a barely amicable ‘update’. One says to the other through gritted teeth: ‘Me? What am I doing now? Oh – I’ve become a children’s doctor. I got the job after chatting to Ben Goldacre during a holiday in the Carribean. Of course,…

Foxed by the blog Martin is on holiday, so he has kindly asked me to write for his blog. An honour, no doubt and one I’m happy to oblige. But it’s also a duty for which I cannot help feeling ambivalent. Why? Because I feel an enormous weight on my shoulders: I had better write something good. And I’d better write it now – it’s late and dark; and beside the words you read now, the screen is emphatically empty. I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:* Something else is alive Beside the clock’s loneliness And this blank page where my fingers move. In his email, Martin told me I could…