I Know You

When I used to spend my weekend nights down on Granville Street, case open, singing into the night for whoever was walking (or, often, stumbling) by, there would inevitably be quiet stretches where I was only entertaining myself. Sometimes, this led me to start improvising and come up with snatches of music on the spot – I still have the two small scraps of paper I wrote these lyrics on. As I stood there strumming a D chord randomly singing “do do do doot n do do” someone walked by on the opposite side of the street and I reflexively sang, “Do I know you?” When some people finally did stop for a moment, out came “All I know, is that it’s you that is standing in front of me now.” In other words, the origin of the song was quite literal – just looking around and singing what you see. I will have to cop to at least a hint of flirtatiousness too (again, not directed at anyone specific), even a suggestive echo of the horribly clichéd line, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” On another level, it’s all about recognition, and questioning what or who you could really be said to know. And of course, taking stock of yourself along the way. You tend to do that standing on a near-deserted downtown street at 2am with a guitar and a case full of coins.