War & Peace Quote by Siobhan Fahey

The slyness is in the double-take: Fahey opens with a familiar pop-world complaint, then undercuts it with a pointed eye-roll. “I just can’t seem to write songs about peace and love” reads like a confession of limitation, but the quick “Yeah right” flips it into a critique of the very expectation that musicians should be able to manufacture uplift on demand. The follow-up - “how do you get that?” - isn’t a sweet, curious question. It’s a dare. Show me the recipe. Prove it isn’t a marketing flavor packet.

Coming from Siobhan Fahey, whose work (from Bananarama to Shakespears Sister) thrived on stylized drama, tight hooks, and a willingness to let songs be messy, the line feels like a refusal of pop’s compulsory optimism. Peace and love aren’t just themes; they’re a genre requirement, a radio-friendly affect. Fahey implies that writing “positive” songs often involves either self-deception or an industrial kind of sentimentality - the gloss that turns real conflict into singalong balm.

The subtext is also about authenticity and distance: if your emotional reality doesn’t naturally produce an anthem, forcing one becomes its own form of dishonesty. The quote functions like a backstage aside to the audience, puncturing the fantasy that artists are emotional vending machines. It’s not cynicism for its own sake; it’s a defense of sharper feelings - anger, doubt, desire, dread - as more truthful raw material than feel-good platitudes.