Written by: David Bowie
Recorded: 1968
Released: 5 April 2019
Available on:
Spying Through A Keyhole
Conversation Piece
Personnel
David Bowie: vocals, guitar
John ‘Hutch’ Hutchinson: guitar
‘Angel, Angel, Grubby Face’ was one of the songs in contention for Bowie’s proposed second Deram album, which was never recorded.
We were still working on the assumption that all our problems at Decca would be solved and that David would continue to have his recordings released on the Deram label. Hugh Mendl had agreed that we should now be thinking about the second album and so David and I sat down one night and compiled a list of possible titles. In addition to the songs already recorded and rejected as singles we listed a number of old songs and some new ones that he had been writing at the flat, such as ‘C’est la Vie’, ‘Silver Tree Top School for Boys’, ‘When I’m Five’, ‘Everything is You’, ‘Tiny Tim’, ‘The Reverend Raymond Brown’, ‘Angel Angel Grubby Face’ and ‘Threepenny Joe’. That album was never made and I suppose that David has forgotten that he ever wrote some of those songs, but they live on in my box files where I keep his original manuscripts, either typewritten by himself or written in his own hand.
The Pitt Report
Two home demos of the song are known, both believed to date from 1968. In the later version, a fingerpicked guitar was might have been played by another performer, possibly John ‘Hutch’ Hutchinson. There are also lyrical differences between the to recordings.
The recordings were briefly made available online at the end of 2018, on sites including Apple Music, Deezer, and Akazoo, presumably to retain copyright on the recordings. The streams were credited to JRD, and the album was temporarily titled Grey Angel Joe.
‘Angel, Angel, Grubby Face’ was given a wider release in April 2019 in the box set Spying Through A Keyhole, and again later that year in Conversation Piece.
Lyrics
Dozing bumble, get off her shoulder
She wants to be still, she wants to feel older
Sunshine, shadows soften her hair
Our fingertips touch, she wants to feel older
We’re citizens of town lying in a country field
Gazing down upon her face
Suddenly we’re lovers
Your briefcase prince is by your side
To kiss away the dew
Angel angel grubby face, I love you
It’s thirteen miles to Factory Street
Train is going soon
Angel, angel, grubby face, I love you
Do you love me?
Sunday oak tree, sing me a song
The cobbles of town are lost in your branches
Monday morning, buses and smoke
Workshop and counter, disorder and vouchers
Our city clothes offend your leaves
Your naked sky demands the reason
Why we lie beneath the shade
Because we love each other
Your briefcase prince is by your side
To kiss away the dew
Angel, angel, grubby face, I love you
It’s thirteen miles to Factory Street
The train is going soon
Angel, angel, grubby face, I love you
Do you love me?
——
Alternate verses:
Sunday oak tree, sing me a song
Factory Street chimneys are lost in your branches
Monday morning, workshop and counter
Buses and vouchers, smoke and disorder
Our city clothes offend your leaves
Your naked sky demands the reason
Why we lie beneath your shade
Because we love each other
Tom, Tom she whispers low
Don’t forget my name
Angel, angel, grubby face, I’ll never be the same
Tom, Tom she whispers low
The train is going soon
Angel, angel, grubby face I love you
——
Your briefcase prince is by your side
To kiss away to the due
Angel, angel, grubby face, I love you
It’s thirteen miles to Factory Street
Train is going soon
Angel, angel, grubby face, I love you
Do you love me?
Do you love me?
