Candy - Paolo Nutini

Let us talk about Paolo Nutini.


I am pretty sure Paolo Nutini is a deeply sexy man, a mix of smoky Italian passion and Scottish... Scottishness, with big pouty lips that all the guys and gals swoon over. Probably.

It looks like he is wearing a tie, but he isn't.

Given this, I should hate him on the principle that he is better than I'll ever be, but I don't. I don't because my only interaction with his existence is through a single song. It is called Candy.

It isn't a particularly bad song. It's quite catchy. The video that accompanies Candy is probably the best thing about it. However, it is the first song whose chorus made me want to create and write a blog in which I overanalyse lyrics. They're not terrible as such, it's just... well, let's just get started, shall we?

 I was perched outside in the pouring rain,
Trying to make myself a sail,
Then I'll float to you, my darlin',
With the evening on my tail.

An evocative start - we can imagine Paolo perched on the prow of his boat, needle and thread in hand, bundles of sodden, ragged cloth at his feet. The rain lashes down, further hampering his ham-fisted efforts to sew. But he perseveres because he is a romantic fool, who imagines his billowing sail will take him to his love as the sun sets behind him. Since he's sailing to meet this darlin' of his, I assume she lives out at sea somewhere, maybe on an island or an oil rig.

Although not the most honest means of travel,
It gets me there nonetheless,

Despite his dedication to the task, Paolo feels that sailing is not very honest. I am not entirely sure why. Does he feel that stealing the power of the wind is immoral? Perhaps it is an affront to God? Maybe he feels that only self-powered locomotion is 'honest', but he only got his yellow tape in swimming and his hands are just too delicate for rowing.


I'm a heartless man at worst, babe,
And a helpless one at best.

This seems like a clever little phrase, but I find myself asking why he brings it up here. Where did it come from? Is it meant to explain why he's sailing?

Paolo: I'll sail to your place tonight.

Darlin': That's not very honest, is it?

Paolo: Well, I'm too heartless to use a pedalo.

And here we get to the oddly worded chorus that struck me so much all those months ago.

Darling, I'll bathe your skin, I'll even wash your clothes,
Just give me some candy before I go.

Now, is it me, or is this quite insulting? Is she particularly lacking in personal hygiene? Or maybe she really does work on an oil rig, and cleaning yourself and your clothes is a particularly arduous task. On the other hand, I am only thinking that because I imagine oil rig workers will be covered in oil, because it's spraying all over the rig like a flammable sprinkling system. I bet most oil rig workers actually finish their shift looking pretty clean.

Maybe instead our culture is growing more mature, and little acts like laundry and washing the dishes are considered more an act of love than covering your house in an inch-deep layer of rose petals. Someone has to clean those petals up later. Then again, he does say 'I'll even wash your clothes', suggesting it is an extraordinary act. Also, his offer to bathe her skin, which is a little redundant (you're not going to bathe her liver now, are you?) but vastly more sensuous than 'I'll give you a bath', pretty much suggests that getting her clean is the main aim.

This is also our first mention of the titular 'candy', which remains tantalisingly ill-defined. Is it Skittles, maybe? Or a Snickers bar? Does chocolate count as candy? I don't know much about these US words.

Actually, Paolo is Scottish. Do Scots say candy too?

Oh darling, I'll kiss your eyes and lay you down on your rug,
Just give me some candy after my hug.

And here it is. The line that had me staring at the radio, waiting for the chorus to come round again. You'll kiss her eyes. Her eyes. I spent a long time wondering whether I'd missed out on some great romantic gesture, or that kissing eyes was a thing that people do all the time. But I can't accept either of these as true. The eyes are the worst place you can kiss someone. If your sole concern is the comfort and enjoyment of the kissee, literally every other external part of the human body is a better place to kiss, with the possible exception of the nostril.

I guess he means that he will gently place his lips on Darlin''s closed eyelids, like he went for a forehead kiss and missed, but I cannot help imagining Paolo tonguing her exposed eyeball while she stands there wincing, too polite to stop him. 

After, or probably during, this travesty of a romantic gesture, he will lay her down on her rug. It is pretty amazing how quickly the mind's eye will supply the rest of the details - the crackle from the fireplace, the soft wavering light of candles, two glasses half full of red wine...

I have a rug in my living room. It is a mucus-y green colour, and it sits on top of a rectangle of carpet that is roughly seven times cleaner than any other piece of carpet in my house. It isn't one of those luxuriant, shaggy rugs either, like Paolo is no doubt imagining. Nobody has those because that is like laying 20 square feet of wet pondsludge in the middle of your room. Things will grow in there. Terrible things. You will never be able to get them out.

What I'm driving at here is that rugs are awful things that will make you itch for no discernible reason if you were to lie down on them. Don't do it.

Oh and there's something about hugs as well. Some people might tell you it's 'heart', not 'hug'. Those people are wrong. Paolo is expecting a hug, and he wants some candy with it, because apparently a hug is not enough. Greedy, that's what that is.

Oh I'm often found explainin',
But to her it plays out all the same,
And although I'm left defeated,
It gets held against my name.

So here Paolo is telling us that this darlin' of his keeps finding out some naughty things he has done, and no matter how well he explains, she reacts in the same way. This reaction involves shouting him down and then holding a grudge. Given that Paolo thinks sailing is a helpless, dishonest activity, it is difficult to gauge what he is doing to earn her ire. It's probably the eye-kissing.

I know you got plenty to offer, baby,
But I guess I've taken quite enough,
Well I'm some stain there on your bed sheet,
You're my diamond in the rough.

I almost like this stanza - comparing yourself to a stain on someone's bed sheet is cleverly evocative, but that last line causes my eyebrows to furrow once more. A diamond in the rough is not, as I used to think, a diamond lying outside the fairway on a golf course. It is an uncut diamond, a gemstone whose brilliance is currently hidden by its coarse, unrefined exterior. He has essentially compared her to Animal Mutha from Full Metal Jacket.

I guess there are worse things with which to be compared.

After that, there is more chorus, and then the outro.


I know that the writing's on the wall

So he knows it will end soon...

Oh I'll be there waitin' for you (repeated)

...but he will continue to wait. At the wall, presumably, where the writing is.

All the cutthroats and their jagged ends
All of them got me waiting and waiting

I'll be honest, I don't really know what he's talking about at the end here. Cutthroats aren't typically associated with making people wait - they are doers, not planners - and quite where they came from is another matter entirely.

All the cheap and the sugary philosophies
Have got me on the fence just waiting and waiting

Cheap and sugary (in fact, candy-like) philosophies have stopped him from reaching a decision on... something. Again, not sure what.

All the angels and their halos
All they do is keep me waiting and waiting
 
I guess he is so fed up of waiting that he wants to die. Poor Paolo. All he wanted was some candy. Has nobody told him he can buy his own from a shop?