Months Of The Year In Song: February, The Start of Celtic Spring

It is with good grace that I return to this series with another edition. Last time I had complained that such series can end up not being as much fun as was anticipated at the outset. It has come to my attention several times this week however that this is very much a First World problem. Yesterday marked the first anniversary of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and it occurred to me that if any of the displaced Ukrainians being put up locally in hotels stumbled upon my post, they would not be impressed. They have lost everything. I have just temporarily lost my enthusiasm for something which in the grand scheme of things, is a bit of light-hearted fluff and nonsense. With that it mind let’s get on with it.

The name February apparently comes from the Latin term februum which means purification. The Roman ritual Februa was always held on February the 15th to ‘purify the city’, promoting health and fertility. Hmm…, interesting, NOT. I don’t know about you but I feel these Latin names used for the months of the year have well and truly lost their meaning in today’s world, but they’re too engrained now to be changed or updated. Valentine-uary or Snowdrop-uary anyone? No, that definitely wouldn’t work either, for all sorts of reasons, so we’re stuck with them. A safe and familiar pair of hands I suppose. Let’s look at the songs that reference February.


I’ll start off with a song suggested by two of last month’s visitors. First of all we had C who remembered a song she has never been too keen on, but which fits the remit. Here are her own words:

I can’t think of anything at all, apart from January February by Barbara Dickson which as I’m sure you know is not my cup of tea at all, but for some reason I seem to know it very well – it must have had a lot of radio play at the time.

Rigid Digit also came up with Barbara’s song as a suggestion, ‘a Scottish MOR Folkie Two For The Price Of One’, he said. Sadly I had forgotten about it for the January edition so a lost opportunity, but happy to include it now as I quite like Scottish MOR Folk. She’s had a long career Barbara Dickson and I feel a certain loyalty to her as first of all she’s Scottish, but also she used to work for a good friend’s dad way back in the day before she got her big break. Yes, Barbara used to be a humble civil servant in Rosyth where she grew up. A lot less glamorous than the world of West End Theatre, where she ended up.

January February by Barbara Dickson:


I look at Barbara in that clip and remember a perm I had in 1978 (and in 1979, in 1980…) that looked just like her one. That was a really popular style for girls back then and although it looks very dated now, and a bit poodle-like, it was a great low-maintenance style that just needed to be washed and left to dry naturally. A bit of a fluff up with one of those afro combs and you were good to go. My middle-aged hair needs much more maintenance, so I look back at those days fondly, although I now realise there was an element of cultural appropriation going on. The afro comb became recognised as a way of saying no to oppression, and wearing it in the hair led to a kind of comradeship amongst those whose hair grows up and out, not down. I was definitely not aware of this back in 1978 when I headed along to our local salon.

But this is supposed to be all about February songs so what else was suggested last time. Rick dropped by again:

Not a ton of great February songs but Xmas in February by Lou Reed is a good one, pretty sad tale though it is.

Crikey Rick that really is a sad tale – what a song though. It often occurs to me that had some of the American bloggers who visit this place been born a few years earlier, Vietnam would have beckoned. Not lost on you either I imagine.


Next up we have Ernie Goggins whose blog I have just discovered (apologies for the delay Ernie). Here are his own words:

Only a couple of suggestions for February, both of them as miserable as Rick’s suggestion – Cold Days of February by Edinburgh’s own Incredible String Band and Sad February by The Unthanks.

I had started this series with September songs and they were pretty sad but February seems to be upping the ante. Here are Ernie’s suggestions.



Martin from the New Amusements blog offered up this song by Billy Bragg, The Fourteenth of February. This is the studio version but Martin also added a link to a lovely, simple, live version. What a beautiful love song. Unlike Billy I do remember everything about the first time I met Mr WIAA but just down to the kind of memory I have. He, needless to say, remembers nothing.


Rol decided he couldn’t beat Martin’s suggestion, but offered up February by Dar Williams as an ‘also-ran’. Hope Dar never drops by as not an ‘also-ran’ song at all, although September by now has well and truly been usurped by February in the sadness stakes.


Neil came up with another Two For The Price Of One suggestion – Van Morrison’s March Winds In February. Thanks Neil, a new one for me from Mr Grumpy of Belfast, a Mr Grumpy who delivers sublime songs.


Nearly at the end of the suggestions now but Rigid Digit did come up with a second one. Here are his own words:

From the Foo Fighters The Colour & The Shape – is it the best Foos album? – comes February Stars. Actually, writing out that album title, I’ve just noticed – The Foo Fighters spell “Colour” properly, not the US English version sans U.

Yes Neil and Rick, funny that an American band used the British English spelling as opposed to the American English version, or as RD calls it, the proper version! Here is their February song.


Finally, we have Khayem’s pick for February:

My February suggestion is a lovely little instrumental ditty by Australian musical collective Architecture In Helsinki. One Heavy February is the opening song of their debut album (Fingers Crossed) from 2003, just under a minute long but with a fun video. 


He goes on to say:

I own a different version from 2008 on the Like It Or Not EP. No video for this one (though an image pops up around 0:38) but it’s a veritable extended club banger, with a handy run through of the calendar towards the end, all done in under three minutes. That’ll blow the cobwebs away! 


It certainly will Khayem, so thanks for suggesting that Australian collective with a Scandinavian capital in their name. Having just looked it up they apparently got their name after cutting up a newspaper and re-arranging the words. Was it a Finnish newspaper I wonder.

So, that brings our February edition to a close. All new songs for me apart from the Barbara one but regulars to this place would probably have expected that. A lot of sad songs amongst them, but personally I’ve quite enjoyed February this year. In the Celtic calendar, Spring starts on the 1st of February (Imbolc, written about here), and the lighter nights and flowers in my garden would attest to that.

imbolc


Imbolc was one of the cornerstones of the Celtic calendar, as the success of the new farming season was of great importance. Winter stores of food were getting low and rituals were performed to ensure a steady supply of food until the harvest six months later. This year, it seems that however many rituals are performed, supermarkets are still going to be low on supplies of certain fruits and vegetables. All to do with climate change and politics though. Compared with what the people of Ukraine have been through over the last year I think we can forego our raspberries and cucumbers this month without too much complaint.

Next month is definitely a Spring month (if you live in the Northern Hemisphere) and it also means we are now half way through this series. If you have any March songs you would like to see included, please add them to the comments boxes. I couldn’t do this one without you.

Until next time…

Xmas In February Lyrics
(Song by Lou Reed)

Xmas in February
Sam was lyin’ in the jungle
Agent orange spread against the sky like marmalade
Hendrix played on some foreign jukebox
They were praying to be saved
Those gooks were fierce and fearless
That’s the price you pay when you invade
Xmas in February

Sam lost his arm in some border town
His fingers are mixed with someone’s crop
If he didn’t have that opium to smoke
The pain would never ever stop
Half his friends are stuffed into black body bags
With their names printed at the top
Xmas in February

Sammy was a short order cook
In a short order black and blue collar town
Everybody worked the steel mill
But the steel mill got closed down
He thought if he joined the army
He’d have a future that was sound
Like no xmas in February

Sam’s staring at the vietnam wall
It’s been a while now that he’s home
His wife and kid have left, he’s unemployed
He’s a reminder of the war that wasn’t won
He’s the guy on the street with the sign that reads
“Please help send this vet home”
But he is home
And there’s no xmas in February
No matter how much he saves

The Brits, Feeling Under the Cosh and 50 Year Retrospectives – Houston, We Have A Problem

Something that we music bloggers never want to happen is for our blogging output to become a bit of a chore, yet…, we can get ourselves into a cycle of writing about things we kind of have to write about as opposed to what we want to write about, and that’s not a good position to find yourself in.

I don’t know about everyone else but this blog is starting to feel like an obituary column, but all down to that old chestnut age – if we are getting older then our musical heroes are getting even older, and we are starting to lose them at an alarming rate. The option not to write about Burt Bacharach was never there for me, as this blog’s name came from the opening line to one of his songs, but going forward I think I’m going to have to limit the number I write.

What’s It All About, Alfie?

Then there’s the series. Over the years I’ve really enjoyed some of the ones I’ve published (the Full Moon Calendar In Song being my favourite) but some of the others have petered out early on, especially if they’ve been particularly epic like my American Odyssey in Song (it was all Delaware’s fault). At the moment I have a series about songs relating to months of the year, but I always seem to be up against a deadline, just managing to fit the latest edition in before we move into the next month – it’s not turned out to be as much fun as I thought.

Perry, it was all your fault!

As for my 50 year retrospective series, where I intended to revisit my folder of pop star pinups from 1973, that has hit a bump in the road. Some of the artists that populated the Top Ten back then, and the pages of magazines aimed at 12-14 year old girls, were later found to have been predators of the worst kind, and it now makes for uncomfortable reading. No, Mr Paul Gadd, I never did want to “touch you, there, where, there”, but the editors of our mags obviously thought differently and his hairy chest and grinning face appeared in every copy in 1973. I do think teenage girls are a good judge of character but back then we were often let down by adults who should have known better, but who inexplicably missed all the signals. Different times indeed.

Last but not least, I always watch the Brit Awards and usually write about them afterwards (or as Jez said in the comments boxes last year, “Alyson, she watches the Brits so we don’t have to”). So far, despite the show airing a week ago now, I’ve not yet come up with anything for this year’s extravaganza. There always used to be a standout performance, or shocking moment, but the main takeaway for me this year is that music has become very corporate indeed with the artists sitting at tables surrounded by “their team” – the money men, the label bosses, the songwriters – all looking very smug. It’s nigh impossible to become really successful by just plugging away at your craft as per the old days, and the big winner of the night, Harry Styles, was someone who started out in a boy band put together by Simon Cowell for a prime time television show. It seems that Sam Smith’s demonic performance with Kim Petras did however ruffle a few feathers and, wait for it, Ofcom received the grand total of 109 complaints about it. Considering the show was aired live on ITV on Saturday night and was watched by 4 million people, if they had set out to cause outrage, they failed miserably.

Harry Styles, the big winner of the night

One big bonus for me this year is that I now understand why so much fuss has been made about Isle of Wight band Wet Leg. They have been mentioned often amongst the other “cooler” blogs, whose hosts have their finger on the pulse, and it seems those bloggers were on the button as they came away with two big awards, one for being Best Newcomer and the other for Best Group. Straight to the top in their first year so a bit of a stratospheric rise considering their debut album only came out last year. Here is their performance of debut single Chaise Longue which is delivered in deadpan style by lead singer Rhian Teasdale. She apparently wrote the song in only a day whilst sitting on bandmate Hester’s grandfather’s chaise longue. The lyric, “Is your muffin buttered?/Would you like us to assign someone to butter your muffin?” is supposedly a direct quote from the 2004 teen comedy Mean Girls. Having watched that film with DD many years ago, I can believe that, but yet again I’m probably being naïve.

It was all happening on the Wet Leg stage – Morris dancers, pastoral scenes, bonnets and cows.

So, “What’s It All About?” – I hate feeling under the cosh around here and with four time sensitive posts to be written this month (more if anyone else passes away), it’s all got a bit too much. I really need to get back to what I do best – simply picking a timely song from the tracks of my years, finding out so much more about it than was ever possible back in the day, and sharing a few memories. Maybe next month.

In the meantime, and before I sign off for today, here’s an idea. Instead of a 50 year retrospective where I concentrate on those artists who featured in the Smash Hits equivalent of the day and who made it to the Top Ten of the UK Singles Chart, how about I revisit those songs which only made it to the lower reaches of the charts but which have since become classics. Billy Paul recorded Me and Mrs. Jones in Philadelphia in 1972 but it peaked on our British charts in the February of 1973. It’s such a lush song, and one I have always loved, although at the age of 12 I probably wouldn’t have picked up on quite how heart-breaking the lyrics are. Glad I’ve never found myself in such a position as the subterfuge would cripple me. I would crack early on and tell Mr WIAA exactly what I’d been up to at 6.30pm every day (if indeed it is pm and not am). A beautiful song though.

Me and Mrs. Jones by Billy Paul:

A strange one this but I still managed to touch on the Brits and revisit a favourite song from 50 years ago. Quite something considering I sat down today to say I wasn’t going to do any of those things!

Until next time, to our our elder statesmen of rock and pop, please keep well until next month, as at the moment I can’t keep up.

Me and Mrs. Jones Lyrics
(Song by Kenny Gamble, Leon Huff, Cary Gilbert)

Me and Mrs Jones
We got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong
To let it go now

We meet every day at the same cafe
6:30
I know, I know she’ll be there
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song

Me and Mrs, Mrs. Jones
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones
We got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong
To let it go now

We gotta be extra careful
That we don’t build our hopes up too high
Cause she’s got her own obligations
And so, and so do I

Me and Mrs, Mrs. Jones
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones
We got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong
To let it go now

Well, it’s time for us to be leaving
It hurts so much, it hurts so much inside
Now she’ll go her way
And I’ll go mine
But tomorrow we’ll meet the same place
The same time

Me and Mrs, Mrs. Jones
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones
We got a thing going on

We gotta be extra careful
We can’t afford to build our hopes up too high
I wanna meet and talk to you
At the same place, the same cafe, the same time
And we’re gonna hold hands like we used to
We gonna talk it over, talk it over
We know, they know
And you know and I know it was wrong
But I’m thinking strong
We gotta let ’em know now
That we got a thing going on, a thing going on

Thanks Burt, for the Memories, and for Creating Your Unique “Sound” – RIP Mr Bacharach

Author: Alyson

Whenever I hear an old song on the radio, I am immediately transported back to those days. I know I’m not alone here and want to record those memories for myself and for the people in them. 57 years ago, the song “Alfie” was written by my favourite songwriting team, Bacharach and David. The opening line to that song was, “What’s it all about?” and I’m hoping by writing this blog, I might find the answer to that question.

Well, it doesn’t get much closer to home than this one. If you ever scroll down through one of my blog posts to reach the comments boxes, the words above are what you will read. Each post is attributed to the author (only me around here), and the blog’s short mission statement is attached. To be honest the blog didn’t start out as What’s It All About? – the domain name I originally bagged was for one called the Jukebox Time Machine. After a very short space of time however I found myself continually returning to the late 1960s, and specifically to the songs of Burt Bacharach, so a change came about. I heard the news of his passing last night before going to bed and of course this morning the radio stations were awash with songs from his vast back catalogue, songs that have been shared around here many times. Burt even has his very own category on my sidebar, and only George Michael has been written about more often.

My prized CD boxset containing 60 of Burt’s songs

But of course unlike George Michael, Burt Bacharach didn’t actually sing the songs or write the lyrics for them, so how is it that we all know his name and can so readily recognise the songs attributed to him? Because he came up with something known as the “Bacharach Sound”. Though his style was sometimes called easy listening, he wasn’t particularly keen on that label. It might have been easy on the ears, but it was anything but easy to come up with. The precise arrangements, the shifts in meter, the varied selection of instruments used, and fitting the lyrics to all the notes, proved challenging to singers and musicians, BUT, what a sound. When I listen to a Bacharach song it’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket of mellifluous sound. Think Dusty Springfield, Dionne Warwick, Julie London , BJ Thomas and Christopher Cross. Yes, there are times when we want to listen to something more rousing or difficult but few things give me more joy than having a Burt Bacharach song pop up unexpectedly on the radio or on a film soundtrack.

The links above are to previous posts so I won’t share those songs again. I will however share the very first song from my CD boxset, which was also the first hit song Burt wrote with Hal David. The Story Of My Life, recorded by Michael Holliday, reached the No. 1 spot on the UK Singles Chart in 1958. The song that replaced it at the top spot was Perry Como’s Magic Moments, also written by Bacharach and David, the first time there were consecutive No. 1s by the same songwriter/s on the British chart. They were on a roll.

The Story Of My Life by Michael Holliday:


I’ve always thought the title of this song is very relevant to this blog, as in a roundabout way I have told the story of my life whilst journeying back through “the tracks of my years”, sharing the memories. Very few of us live high octane lives full of adventure and momentous happenings, but each of us has our own story to tell (if we are so inclined) and whenever I share Burt’s songs I am reminded of my childhood growing up as part of a small but loving family in rural Scotland. I am reminded of: my dad making us laugh with his impressions of Gene Pitney; watching the Cilla show on a Saturday night when she sang the song Alfie; and, experiencing the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid when it first aired on television, but having to run and hide in the pantry after feeling embarrassed about crying so much over the ending. All of these memories feature the songs of Burt Bacharach.

Another song that hasn’t been shared around here before is Don’t Make Me Over, the first of many Bacharach and David songs recorded by Dionne Warwick. It was the lead single from her debut album and its success led to the formation of one of the most successful musical pairings in popular music history. One of the backing singers on the record was Dionne’s aunt, Cissy Houston, who was pregnant with her youngest child, Whitney Houston!

Don’t Make Me Over by Tommy Hunt:


I think I’ll finish with two versions of I’ll Never Fall In Love Again, the first version by Deacon Blue was filmed in our local theatre, a place I know really well, as part of a week long set of concerts by Scottish artists for the BBC. Deacon Blue opted for a slower arrangement and the song was released in 1990 as part of a four-song EP called, understandably, Four Bacharach & David Songs. I love Deacon Blue as they wrote some wonderful and memorable songs, but it was this one by Burt that gave them their biggest hit in the UK. For the music clip I’ve shared the Bobbie Gentry version from 1969, when she reached the top spot on the UK Singles Chart. As a child I liked the line about the germs you’d get from kissing a boy (eugh), but I also liked her really big hair (although I think there must have been a bit of trickery going on up there). 

I’ll Never Fall In Love Again by Bobbie Gentry:


So, a bit of a tribute post, but this time no sadness, just a celebration of the life of a man who made it to the grand old age of 94 – a man who will be remembered as one the most important and influential figures of 20th century popular music.

Oh, and for the record, I watched a Special once where Burt was asked the question, “What’s It All About?”. He said, as per the song Alfie, it was love… Listening to all these wonderful songs, that seems about right. Here’s to love, and RIP Burt Bacharach.

Burt Bacharach 1928 to 2023

Until next time…

I’ll Never Fall In Love Again Lyrics
(Song by Burt Bacharach/Hal David)

What do you get when you fall in love?
A guy with a pin to burst your bubble
That’s what you get for all your trouble
I’ll never fall in love again
I’ll never fall in love again

What do you get when you kiss a guy?
You get enough germs to catch pneumonia
After you do, he’ll never phone you
I’ll never fall in love again
I’ll never fall in love again

Don’t tell me what it’s all about
‘Cause I’ve been there and I’m glad I’m out
Out of those chains, those chains that bind you
That is why I’m here to remind you

(What do you get when you give your heart?
You get it all broken up and battered
That’s what you get, a heart that’s shattered
I’ll never fall in love again
Oh, I’ll never fall in love again)

(What do you get when you fall in love?
You get enough tears to fill an ocean
That’s what you get for your devotion
I’ll never fall in love again
I’ll never fall in love again)

What do you get when you fall in love?
You only get lies and pain and sorrow
So, for at least until tomorrow
I’ll never fall in love again
I’ll never fall in love