They say we're lucky to both be alive
And some people say we were made for each other
Stuck in a fools paradise
For two old friends that used to be lovers

I sometimes feel just like a brick in a wall
Cemented in place going nowhere at all

Someone must've nailed us together
Someone must've nailed us together
Someone must've nailed us together
In a cool empty moment I can hold you close
Though I get no pleasure
It feels like someone must've nailed us together

It's a mystery to me still
But I remember that once I was thrilled to be near you
But you seem so run of the mill
You never talk and I can't even hear you

You know how I feel do I have to explain
That sometimes I feel like walking away

But someone must've nailed us together
Someone must've nailed us together
Someone must've nailed us together
In a cool empty moment I can hold you close
Though I get no pleasure
It feels like someone must've nailed us together

I sometimes feel just like a brick in a wall
Cemented in place going nowhere at all

Someone must've nailed us together...


words and music Eric Goulden (MCPS / Copyright Control)

I thought this was a joke song when I first wrote it. I had in mind a duo I saw in a pub in Bermondsay in the late seventies. She was wearing a floor-length skirt, he had a neatly trimmed goatee, blow-waved hair and wore a cream safari suit. He played a white Stratocaster, she shook a tambourine and they played Jambalaya in harmony accompanied by a drum machine with everything going through a Roland Space Echo and into a Fender Twin. That's how I envisaged Someone Must've Nailed Us Together being performed. When I met Denim 'n' Lace I thought they'd be the perfect group to do it.
I played a demo of it to David Quantick around 1983 when I was getting the Captains Of Industry thing together. I thought the other songs on the cassette - Land Of The Faint At Heart, Our Neck Of The Woods, Home & Away and Lady Of The Manor were much more heavyduty. David liked them all but raved about Someone Must've Nailed Us Together. I thought it was lightweight but I included it in the set at a gig I played in London with Billy Bragg in 1983. David Quantick reviewed the gig and for him I stole the show. He loved everything I played - all new songs that eventually appeared on the Captains Of Industry album - but he was particularly gushing about this one.
I was beginning to understand that what I'd written was the truth put in a very simple and basic way - especially in light of my own situation at the time. But I still didn't take the song seriously and left it off the Captains album which was just as well because it benefited from the more stripped down Len Bright Combo approach.
We recorded it in Bruce Brand's attic on the Luton Road in Chatham with the neighbours hammering at the door and threatening to call the police. Bruce played on a kit with real cowhide heads (sort of warm and flat sounding) and I played a Guild Starfire belonging to Bruce which hadn't been out of its case since Mickey Hampshire used it in The Milkshakes. The strings were rusty. Bruce incorporated a New Era woodblock which I'd just given him as a present.
Apart from the vocals I think the only overdub was my guitar in the instrumental break and possibly a tambourine.
We released it as a single and Mike Read played it once on his Radio One breakfast show. David quantick made it single of the week in the NME and the reviews editor, Danny Kelly, accused us of releasing the ecord to coincide with David doing the singles reviews. For a long time after I left Stiff I was (with a couple of exceptions) universally despised by the British music press