It might be nice to be playing the track Monchique (Way Up High) from Voice Of Love as you read this.
Monchique is a town in southern Portugal situated high up in the hills of the Algarve with great views. It’s known for hiking, bird watching and biking amongst other things. Around the area you will find eucalyptus, cork oak, oranges, lemons, honey, olive oil, chestnuts and even scissor chairs made from chestnut wood.
I wrote the song following a drive up there with Mel on a beautiful spring day. It was indeed a “panorama of forest pine, spring colours everywhere…” I did see all the things I refer to in the lyrics such as “smelling jasmine, the monastery, a lizard crossing the street and birds on telegraph poles…” It’s maybe what is sometimes referred to as a “list” song as I gathered some notes on what I saw then came to write the melody and structure. I added the “way up high” part of the song later on in my writing.
It’s an optimistic song and one of my personal favourites that I have written. Sim Cracknell plays a nice drum part, Dave White has added some tasteful guitar and uplifting backing vocals from Jackie Collins.
Song writing in the sunshine…
The full lyrics are here:
Monchique (Way Up High)
A light breeze on a beautiful day, driving along way up high
Twisting and turning on the road ahead, like we’re climbing – up to the sky
A lovely day, we’ve got nothing to do, take time to get up there
A panorama of forest pine, colours flowering – everywhere
Monchique Monchique Monchique Monchique
We arrive and park up the car, pretty little hillside town
Coffee and views taken in, then we go and take a look around
Climbing steps up to the monastery, closer to heaven they will be
Smelling jasmine on the way, in the distance – there’s the sea
Chorus
We’re way up high, nearly to the sky. Way up high. Way up high.
We’re way up high, nearly touch the sky. Way up high. Way up high.
An embrace then it’s off down the road, as back home we head
A lizard crosses the street, and we stop to break some bread
Birds on telegraph poles, protect their young
It’s home for a swim in the sea, we’ve been driving – in the sun
Chorus
We’re way up high, nearly to the sky. Way up high. Way up high.
We’re way up high, nearly touch the sky. Way up high. Way up high.
Lyrics copyright Vic Cracknell