A Nostalgic Journey Through the Tracks of My Years
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. 60 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.
I wrote a bit of a depressing post last time, so want to follow it up with something a whole lot lovlier. With trips to the cinema no longer happening in my neck of the woods I have gone old-school and am hosting a socially-distanced weekly soiree at the holiday hideaway (now sitting empty for obvious reasons) where we take turns in picking a DVD to watch. With so much choice out there nowadays via the various streaming services, it’s sometimes more satisfying to just pick a single film and run with it, a bit like when we all went to the local arts centre on the last Thursday of the month to watch whatever was on at 8.30pm. (Made some amazing new discoveries that would otherwise have been missed.)
It was my turn to pick and as the only customer in our local HMV last Saturday I felt duty bound to buy something, so started looking at the section for films starting with the letters A-D (I’m a great fan of alphabetisation). I know he’s not for everyone, but I am also a great fan of Richard Curtis movies so went for this one, About Time from 2013. Mr WIAA is not and never has been a member of Film Club, so the fact it was a very girly movie didn’t matter as he could stay home and watch Movies For Men. Despite finding common ground most of the time, we do occasionally like to veer off to the extremes of the genre spectrum.
As it turned out, the film was not vintage Richard Curtis, and seemed to have been written to a very familiar formula. Plenty of posh middle class Englishmen and smart American women, but somehow not as funny as the other films I’ve written about here and a basic premise that was slightly ridiculous – Time travel effected by standing in a wardrobe and clenching your fists (not quite the Tardis or a DeLorean). One aspect that did work for me however was the soundtrack, and I have been afflicted by yet another earworm this week because of one particular song choice. In the film it was sung by a group of tube station buskers (played by Jon Boden & Friends), who also provided the version for the end credits, but for me, the best version is still the original – How Long Will I Love You by The Waterboys.
How Long Will I Love You by The Waterboys:
It’s a love song, but a low key and not overly sentimental one. A simple proclamation of undying love written by band member Mike Scott for their 1990 album, Room to Roam. I am a great fan of The Waterboys and they have appeared around here before as I shared their 1985 masterpiece The Whole Of The Moon as part of my Full Moon Calendar in Song series. Back then they were proponents of “The Big Music”, anthemic rock popularised by many Scottish and Irish bands of the time, but by 1990 they were more of a folk rock band. Surprisingly this song was never released by them as a single, which is a shame, as 23 years later Ellie Goulding reached the No. 3 spot in the UK Singles Chart with it, no doubt because of the publicity it received from its connection to the film.
Not sure why this song has affected me quite so much this week – Touch wood Mr WIAA and I are still good, despite his occasional foray into the world of Movies For Men and my fondness for the odd rom-com. With DD back living at home I am once again involved in the lives of her friends, and really feel for them trying to navigate this brave new world filled with anxiety, and hurdles to be overcome. Finding love has never been tougher, and I doubt very much if Mike Scott considered a global pandemic when he wrote his beautiful lyrics back in 1990. No, I doubt it very much indeed.
Until next time….
How Long Will I Love You Lyrics (Song by Mike Scott)
How long will I love you As long as there are stars above you And longer if I can
How long will I need you As long as the seasons need to Follow their plan
How long will I be with you As long as the sea is bound to wash upon the sand
How long will I want you As long as you want me to And longer by far
How long will I hold you As long as your father told you As long as you are
How long will I give to you As long as I live to you However long it you say
How long will I love you As long as are stars above you And longer if I may
It’s a strange old time isn’t it? I’ve tried to lift my spirits of late by keeping busy and thankfully Mr WIAA seems to have orders coming in again, but I had a bit of a reality check yesterday regarding the times we are living through. After dropping off some packages at our local post office I headed into the town centre to do some banking, and it was a sobering experience to put it mildly. First of all the bank now shuts early so I had missed the boat so to speak, but as I walked from the somewhat empty car park (unusual) to the High Street, I counted four empty shop units in a row of five. Some were boarded up and some were just empty shells, with nothing left of their former glory days. Once I turned the corner it was no better as I was faced with large TO LET signs and only a few of the high-end shops are still operating. One popular tourist shop even had a notice asking customers to ring a bell if they wanted to come in, and only then, one at a time.
This really can’t go on.
I later found out that DD’s former workplace on one of the side streets has been closed down entirely, with four of the six staff made redundant, the other two now working from home. She hasn’t worked there for a couple of years now, but I still have fond memories of popping in past to take her out for lunch, and having a chat with the rest of the staff. There was such a buzz about the place and DD was the first person you met when you went in.
Happy days…. , but no more.
I’ve mentioned this around here before, but Highland, where I live, was the fourth most visited region in the world in 2018 (and probably 2019 too) as millions of tourists used to flock here over the summer months. Along the High Street of an evening, street performers danced and played traditional instruments (yes, even those noisy bagpipes) as they entertained the many holiday-makers strolling up and down the busy pedestrianed thoroughfare.
This year, no hanging baskets, and the streets are empty.
Before I headed home, banking matters unfulfilled, I cut through our large shopping centre, or mall as they like to call them in America. By half past four on a Tuesday it was dead, and it seems highly likely the flagship deparment store (where DD had a Saturday job back in the day) will soon shut its doors for the last time. We all know the era of the High Street is over, as we do much of our shopping online nowadays, but this pandemic has brought its demise forward by about a decade. To see so many empty and boarded up town centre units was just depressing, and for all those people like DD who found work in them over the years, it must be doubly so.
Our shopping centre on Tuesday afternoon
But hey, this is a music blog and I’m afraid I’m going way back in time with the song choice, but it just came to me as I wrote the above. It was common for us to head down town on a Saturday for a spot of lunch and a bit of leisurely shopping, or to walk along the river on a summer’s evening soaking in the atmosphere that comes from living in a tourist town, but those days have most certainly gone and who knows when they may return. Back when I lived the life of a singleton, I often used to walk the short distance down town when at a loose end, as there was a good chance you would bump into someone you knew and plans would be made.
Tony Hatch knew the appeal of Downtown when he wrote the song for Petula Clark back in 1964. Yes, Tony knew that if you were a bit sad and lonely, all you needed to do was head towards the city centre and everything would be waiting for you. In 2020, …. not so much.
When you’re alone and life is making you lonely You can always go, Downtown
Downtown Things will be great when you’re Downtown No finer place for sure Downtown Everything’s waiting for you
Downtown by Petula Clark:
Petula, or Pet Clark as she used to be known, was one of the first singers I remember watching on television as a child, as she was a staple of those flimsy but entertaining prime time shows we used to watch with our families in the 1960s. Petula is still active in music today, aged 87, and released a new album in 2018. Considering she started out during World War II as an entertainer on BBC Radio, she is one of only a few artists to have had a career that spans eight decades.
So, “What’s It All About?” – I’ve been trying to avoid pandemic-related stuff around here of late but that trip into town yesterday really got me down. We knew the economic fallout from the health crisis was going to be harsh, but I have a terrible feeling it’s going to be even worse than is currently being predicted. We are a nation that loved (past tense) social spending – Shopping, eating out, and going to theatres, cinemas, bars and nightclubs, but those days are over for the time-being. Many whose lives have not been unduly affected by the pandemic yet in terms of income (the retired and those who can work from home) have understandably no desire to go into town any more and without them, the social spending on which so many livelihoods depend, is at rock bottom. Tough times ahead I fear.
Until next time….
Downtown Lyrics (Song by Tony Hatch)
When you’re alone and life is making you lonely You can always go Downtown
When you’ve got worries, all the noise and the hurry Seems to help, I know Downtown
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty How can you lose? The lights are much brighter there You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go Downtown Things will be great when you’re Downtown No finer place for sure Downtown Everything’s waiting for you
Don’t hang around and let your problems surround you There are movie shows Downtown Maybe you know some little places to go to Where they never close Downtown
Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova You’ll be dancing with ’em too before the night is over Happy again The lights are much brighter there You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go Downtown Where all the lights are bright Downtown Waiting for you tonight Downtown You’re gonna be alright now Downtown
Roll Over Beethoven sang Chuck Berry back in 1956. Oh yes, Chuck was firm in his belief that had Beethoven still been around, it would have been time for him to roll over and dig those rhythm and blues. Strangely enough, only 20 years later, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony became the basis of a disco instrumental and this week it has formed a bit of an earworm.
Like many of us during this strange time of lockdown and post-lockdown easing, we’ve watched a fair amount of telly, and there is no shortage of great telly out there made both by traditional broadcasters and the newer streaming services such as Netflix and Amazon Prime. (I am however starting to notice that the BBC & ITV are running out of new product, and during prime time slots are having to repeat some of their most successful output. This in turn affects the amount advertisers are willing to pay for a slot, which will jeopardise the making of future programmes should the industry ever get started again. At this rate we’re going to be old and grey yet will still be watching Line of Duty, Death In Paradise, The Durrells and Downtown Abbey!)
But I digress. A historical drama I was keen to watch this week was Mrs America (now on the BBC iPlayer) which tells the story of the movement to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s, and the unexpected backlash led by conservative activist Phyllis Schlafly. Prominent feminists of the day, such as Betty Freidan and Gloria Steinem, are key characters, and I feel ashamed that I am only now learning of their contribution to a movement that has given me much of what I have always taken for granted. The opening theme for the show, which has caused the aforementioned earworm, is A Fifth of Beethoven by Walter Murphy. It fits the era and was chosen because it represented both sides of the story. Phyllis and her conservative friends listened to classical music, yet the free and easy disco version of Beethoven’s Fifth, better fitted the feminists.
A Fifth of Beethoven by Walter Murphy:
It of course sounded familiar when I watched the first episode of the show, and it didn’t take long for me to remember that it had appeared on the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack album, and was the record playing when lead character Tony Manero enters the 2001: Odyssey disco in 1977 Brooklyn. He exudes the easy confidence that comes from being a big fish in a little pond, and that nightclub was his domain.
I have written about the film Saturday Night Fever often around here as it came out the year my best friend and I left school. We spent the summer frequenting the many converted function suites in our area, where local hoteliers had decided an investment in floors with flashing lights, glitter balls and a weekly DJ could increase takings no end. It was a memorable summer where we practiced our dance moves and had dalliances with the local Tony Maneros, but looking back I don’t think I appreciated that this carefree summer ahead of starting university, only happened because I came of age in 1978. Had I been born only 10 years earlier such opportunities would not have been a given at all, and our parents may well have steered us down a very different path towards work, then marriage and motherhood. As it turns out we’ve now kind of had to do both, simultaneously, so not sure who won in the end but it’s thankfully no longer a given that men have very little to do with childcare, cooking or housework, so…. , yeah us.
As for Walter Murphy, he was an orchestral leader who studied both classical and jazz music piano at the Manhattan School of Music. In college his interests included rock music that had been adapted from classical music, such as Joy by Apollo 100 and A Lover’s Concerto by The Toys. In 1976, whilst writing a disco song for a commercial, a producer suggested the idea of updating classical music, which nobody had done lately. He recorded a demo tape which included A Fifth of Beethoven and sent it various record labels in New York City. It was picked up and reached the No. 1 spot on the Billboard Chart in October 1976.
Another little snippet I discovered when doing some research for this post, was that in 2017, exactly 40 years on from the release date of the film that made it famous, the 2001: Odyssey was reimagined. By that time it was no longer a nightspot, but a Chinese restaurant, however a successful businessman invested the cash required to make it happen. The Trammps appeared and sang their hit Disco Inferno, and the actress who played Tony Manero’s love interest also turned up. There were plenty of men in polyester shirts & cream three-piece suits and ladies in those free flowing dresses that epitomised the era, as well as some of the original DJs. Must have been quite a night.
And here is something that really hit home with me this week. In listening to these disco hits of 1978 I’ve been transported back in time, reminiscing about that carefree summer after leaving school. Not so for our school-leavers of this year who have had no prom or end of term revelries and face uncertainly about their exam grades. The doors to the places where they all used to come together are still firmly closed, and as DD pointed out earlier in the week, “Its a rubbish year to be single”.
No lyrics this time as an instrumental, but as ever, if you want to leave a comment, I always reply.
Having just looked back at my blog post from this same weekend last year, I seem to be faced with exactly the same dilemma – Not a lack of inspiration, but instead just too many ideas to choose from, and I currently have five drafts on the go. (Sadly none of these are fit for the role of “guest post” over at one of my fellow bloggers’ places, but I do have a few ideas up my sleeve for those too, promise.)
Last weekend I did return to the topic none of us seem to be able to avoid at the moment, but won’t go down that route again today, so my old friend the moon is going to be my saviour, as a full moon (the Sturgeon Moon) is due to put in an appearance on Monday night. Regulars around here know that throughout 2018 I became immersed in all things moon-related, and after discovering that all full moons have a name (given to them by the Native Americans who kept track of the months by the lunar calendar), I managed to find an appropriate song for each one, which in turn led to an interesting new series.
August was when these huge freshwater fish could be found in lakes and rivers
The sturgeon is not the most attractive looking fish, it must be said, and not the most attractive sounding name either (I feel for our First Minister), but the moon always lends itself to some very attractive sounding songs, and by sheer coincidence I’m going to share a different version of the song featured this same weekend last year. Since DD returned home a month ago, I can’t help but take heed of what she is currently listening to, and this song has been regularly played on her various devices over the last couple of weeks – Dancing In The Moonlight by Swedish electronic duo Jubël (feat. NEIMY).
Although the version I am most familiar with is the one by Toploader from 1999, this time last year I had just discovered the original from 1972 by King Harvest which we all agreed at the time had the edge. The song was written in 1969 by Sherman Kelly who was the brother of the King Harvest drummer. He apparently wrote it whilst recovering from an attack by a gang and was trying to “envision an alternate reality, the dream of a peaceful and joyful celebration of life”. How bizarre then that just as we are back together again as a family, my daughter is discovering something for the first time that could possibly have been listened to both by her parents and her grandparents in its different guises. Like my moon series, it seems to be a song that just keeps on giving.
Of course my knowledge of Swedish electronic music is scant, but it has been noticeable over the last 50 years or so, that Sweden has punched above it’s weight in terms of its musical contribution to the world. Even if they had just produced Abba and then stopped that would have been enough, but there has been so much more. A quick bit of research this morning has led me to the following interesting facts:
Abba are the second most successful group ever after the Beatles in terms of record sales.
Excluding the UK, Sweden is the European country to have had the most No. 1 hits on the Billboard Hot 100 – Songs by Blue Swede (written about here before), Abba, Roxette (with four) and Ace of Base.
Songwriters/Producers Denniz Pop and his protegé Max Martin from Cheiron Studios are behind many of the big hits recorded by Britney Spears, Backstreet Boys, Westlife, Katy Perry and Pink. Only Paul McCartney and John Lennon have written more Billboard No. 1 hits than Max Martin.
Sweden has won the Eurovision Song Contest six times, only one less than record holders Ireland.
Such has been its success abroad, clubs specialising in Swedish dance music have sprung up in major cities like Berlin, Barcelona and London.
Other well-known Swedish names not already mentioned above include: Avicii, Europe, Neneh and Eagle Eye Cherry, Swedish House Mafia, First Aid Kit, The Cardigans, Robyn, Dr Alban, Sylvia, Harpo, Wannadies, The Hives and Eric Prydz – Wow!
Songwriter/Producer Max Martin
The Cardigans
Roxette
Abba
Jubel
Eurovision winner Loreen
Thank You for the Music by Abba:
So, on top of producing all that furniture we love (IKEA), and cars (Volvo/Saab), and clothes (H&M), and devices (Ericsson), Sweden has given us a pretty impressive body of musical talent too. I would argue that the songs of Max Martin have been written to a successful formula, and may not stand the test of time compared to those of Lennon and McCartney, but hey, I’m old-school, so for future generations that might not be the case.
There is another reason why I chose to return to Dancing In The Moonlight for this post however. By some quirk of fate, a producer from BBC Radio recently stumbled upon my Full Moon Calendar In Song series, and got in touch. After a bit of toing and froing we managed to record my contribution to a show that’s due to be aired in the coming week. I try to remain anonymous around here, and have been a bit shy about sharing my blog with even my nearest and dearest, but I’m quite excited about it all and am (nervously) looking forward to tuning in. It’s been a topsy-turvey old year, but something positive has come out of it for me.
With all this hot and muggy weather, I didn’t catch the moon at all in the sky last night, but hopefully we’ll be lucky on Monday night. Wonder if Nicola knows about her moon?!
Until next time….
Dancing In The Moonlight Lyrics (Song by Sherman Kelly)
We get it on most every night When that moon is big and bright It’s a supernatural delight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight
Everybody here is out of sight They don’t bark and they don’t bite They keep things loose, they keep things light Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight
Dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s feeling warm and bright It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight
We like our fun and we never fight You can’t dance and stay uptight It’s a supernatural delight Everybody was dancing in the moonlight
Dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s feeling warm and bright It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight
Everybody here is out of sight They don’t bark and they don’t bite They keep things loose, they keep things light Everybody was dancing in the moonlight
Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s feeling warm and bright It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight (everybody) Dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s feeling warm and bright It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s feeling warm and bright It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight (everybody) Dancing in the moonlight Everybody’s feeling warm and bright It’s such a fine and natural sight Everybody’s dancing in the moonlight
‘Is it me?’, as the affable Terry Wogan used to say, or are others feeling a bit fearful at the moment as we ease into a new kind of normal. We were a bit later in opening up various sectors of our economy here in Scotland, but we’re getting there, and I can finally get my hair licked into shape, visit friends inside, have a meal in a restaurant, and perhaps, even consider a staycation. Of course all this easing of the lockdown makes the possibility of a dreaded second wave more likely, but we can’t stay in our houses for ever, can we?
This week I decided it was time to put myself out there again, so touched base with a few friends, offering up suggestions of things we could do. The responses were interesting. One set of friends wouldn’t be able to do anything for a while, as they were off on a walking holiday for two weeks with three other couples, staying at various fine dining establishments on the way. Other friends, most of whom are usually up for socialising and having fun, are not quite ready to venture out yet, and even a socially-distanced drink in the garden is still a bridge too far. For some, Fear is trumping Fear of Missing Out it seems.
I did have lunch in one of my favourite restaurants this week though, and it was just lovely being able to do such a seemingly normal thing again, albeit in a very empty room where the number of tables has been reduced greatly. The serving staff wore masks and visors, so…. a bit weird, but the new normal as we keep saying. It did concern me that the prices on the menu were exactly the same, as it should be obvious to even the most financially illiterate person that no restaurant can remotely turn in a profit any more if they don’t radically change tack, but at the moment they’re just trying to woo their customers back before it’s too late. But anyway, my old work colleague and I had a wonderful couple of hours, and this time, for me, FOMO trumped Fear.
My favourite eatery
The next evening I invited another friend round for a movie night. This was the first time we’ve had anyone other than family in the house since March, so a big deal. I still have a DVD player so we picked a film she hadn’t seen before and cracked open a bottle of wine. This was something we used to do quite a lot, but of course not since lockdown, so a real treat. Again, FOMO trumped Fear.
By the Friday, Mr WIAA decided to take the afternoon off, and we headed north in the car in order to work out whether a coastal staycation might be a possibility for late summer. It was a glorious sunny day and after stopping off for some lunch at a place which is now only offering a reduced menu in a open-sided marquee kind of affair, we made it to the beaches of East Sutherland. It was busy, but not Bournemouth on a bank holiday busy, so hoping to book something in one of the many holiday spots soon.
On the way home we took a bit of a detour to visit The Mermaid of The North – Not quite as demure as the little mermaid in Copenhagen, and not something you usually stumble upon whilst visiting the beaches of Scotland, but now on the popular North Coast 500 route map.
The Mermaid of the North
And here’s a funny one – I didn’t even realise I had taken this picture, but it seems I must have accidentally “clicked”, just after capturing our mesmerised mermaid. I love images of shapes, colours and textures so was quite chuffed when it popped up on my screen without me even knowing it had been taken.
Pebble beach, far away in time….
All seemed to be going pretty well for me until I got an unexpected booking for the holiday hideaway. As a host I am now responsible for the well-being of the guests who come to stay with me, but with this pesky virus lurking goodness knows where, the cleaning protocols are onerous indeed. Because I have a cousin coming to stay this week I would only have a day to turn everything around, getting the house ready for my new guests. After realising I would have to renew every bit of bedding, remove all soft furnishings & paper, deep clean and covid-sanitise the whole house (even the mattresses), I realised it would be impossible. The thought of one of my guests becoming ill on my watch made me fearful (would I be sued?), so I quickly cancelled their booking and have now foregone what would have been some very welcome earnings. Fear won this time over FOMO.
So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – It’s all about the balance isn’t it and some of us are desperate to get back out there, whereas others are still a tad fearful. I had been experiencing FOMO, so I did put myself out there and had a nice week, but things are most definitely not ‘normal’ and earning your living from the hospitality and tourism sectors at the moment is nigh impossible. Touch wood we turn a corner soon in our efforts to control this thing, but I’m not holding my breath.
After posting non-pandemic related stuff for three weeks now, I seem to have returned to my old ways. Just an interlude though, as I like to get my thoughts down for posterity more than anything else. As for the song, there are many beach-related ones out there and I have already alluded to Echo Beach by Martha and the Muffins in the caption for my pebble shot above. The one I’m going to share however is On The Beach by Chris Rea from 1986. I had a particularly nice summer that year as I went with the flatmates of the time to Zakynthos in Greece for my first ever all-girls holiday. One of those flatmates (the one I spent Live Aid day with and whom I wrote about last time) later moved south and ended up in Berkshire, living in a house next to the one Chris Rea used to own. He had a recording studio in the garden and I often wondered when we went to visit whether On The Beach had actually been recorded there.
On The Beach by Chris Rea:
It seems Chris Rea also had a nice summer in 1986 as On the Beach was inspired by a trip to the Spanish island of Formentera off the coast of Ibiza. Chris is quoted as saying, ‘That’s where me and my wife, became me and my wife. That’s what it’s about. Yeah, I was ‘between the eyes of love.’ It’s a lovely island’. Sadly, visiting any holiday island is fraught with difficulty at the moment, as we all continue to fight the invisible virus. Time to perhaps just plug in the earbuds, listen to those waves roll in, and imagine yourself there.
What’s your favourite beach-related song? I’d love to hear from you and as you all know by now, I always reply.
Until next time….
On The Beach Lyrics (Song by Chris Rea)
Between the eyes of love I call your name Behind the guarded walls I used to go Upon a summer wind there’s a certain melody Takes me back to the place that I know Down on the beach
The secrets of the summer I will keep The sands of time will blow a mystery No-one but you and I Underneath that moonlit sky Take me back to the place that I know On the beach
Forever in my dreams my heart will be Hanging on to this sweet memory A day of strange desire And a night that burned like fire Take me back to the place that I know On the beach
Postscript:
John Medd from Are We There Yet? reminded me in the comments boxes that a couple of years ago, he’d written about Chris Rea and On The Beach. The version of the song I shared above was the one released as a single, however the original version from the album of the same name was a much slower, more contemplative affair. If you click on the link to John’s blog you will see that most people now prefer the original, but in case you want to check it out for yourself, here is a clip.
‘It’s twelve noon in London, seven AM in Philadelphia, and around the world it’s time for Live Aid’
Those were the words that kicked off probably the most memorable fund-raising event in rock and pop history, and this week was its 35th anniversary. On Monday morning, after being reminded of the date, I decided to revisit my DVD boxset of the event and over the course of the week I’ve watched it all, and taken notes. Sadly these notes fill 12 pages of my shorthand notebook, so I have absolutely no chance of condensing my thoughts into a format suitable for a blog post. I do however remember how I spent the day, so before my aging memory lets me down, I think I’ll approach it that way.
You have to be of a certain age to remember Live Aid at all, mid 40s or older I suspect, but if you do, you’ll probably remember it was held on a glorious, hot summer’s day, the like of which doesn’t often fall on a Saturday in Scotland. I was a big music fan, but the concert would go on all day, so what did my flatmate and I do just before 12 noon on Saturday, the 13th July, 1985? – We went to the local park of course!
Aberdeen’s Duthie Park
I was prepared however and had brought a small transistor radio with me, so although we weren’t watching the action live on telly we did hear the opening act,Status Quo, Rockin’ All Over The World. Had I been watching on telly, I would have known that Paul Weller, who was next up with his Style Council, was looking very summery and dare I say healthy that day in his white trousers, but we only had this crackly radio. By 1 pm it was obvious we should head back to our cool, granite, second floor flat – The day had become just too hot and we were missing out on all the action.
Over the next few hours we watched the following artists perform on stage at Wembley in front of an audience of 72,000. Everyone that day was hot and bothered, there is no doubt, but also having the time of their lives.
The Boomtown Rats, Adam Ant, Ultravox, Spandau Ballet, Elvis Costello, Nick Kershaw, Sade, Sting, Phil Collins, Howard Jones, Brian Ferry and Paul Young.
Watching this segment of the concert now, 35 years on, it was a veritable Who’s Who of mid ’80s chart toppers (with organiser Bob Geldof included of course). The dress code of the day seemed to be either black leather or baggy white clothing depending on your musical leanings, but those who opted for white definitely suffered less in the baking heat. There were mullets of all persuasions too, even amongst those who were thinning on top (Phil Collins?). The quality of the singing was less than perfect, but hey, there had been little time to rehearse or prepare for this massive event so hats off to them for committing, as some did not and later regretted it. Final observation – So many saxophones! The instrument of choice for the mid ‘80s it seems.
And here is where the day was punctuated with another break from the telly, as the oil company I worked for at the time was hosting a barbeque for its staff that very evening. The flatmate and I duly got ready to head along Queen’s Road to the spot overlooking Rubislaw Quarry (from which Aberdeen was built) where many of these corporate HQs were based. Before we left however we caught the performance by U2 which is often cited as having elevated them to superstardom. Bono was tiptoeing around in his tight black leather trousers and long boots, but after spotting a girl in the crowd, jumped down into the mud at the front of the stage and helped save her from being crushed. They missed out on playing their third song but it was a sign of things to come from him, for sure.
My workplace on the left
So, we arrived at my workplace in the early evening, but bowing down to pressure from their staff, it had been decided to install a big screen in the underground carpark so we could watch the concert whilst eating the fine barbequed food only an American company could serve up. My workmate was there with her new boyfriend, so was on a bit of a high. As was often the case however with these office romances in Aberdeen, it later transpired he had a wife who lived elsewhere whom he’d conveniently omitted to tell her about. They were slippery characters some of these chaps we worked with who often broke our hearts.
But back to the concert, we were now lined up on chairs watching scenes coming live from Wembley on the big screen. I’m not going to describe the Philadelphia concert here as would get far too bogged down, and anyway, it just wasn’t a patch on our set-up. Wembley, with its enclosed stadium, twin towers and greenery all around, looked beautiful on that hot summer’s day whereas the JFK Stadium in Philadelphia looked like a makeshift set of scaffolding surrounded by carparks and interstate highways.
As the day wore on the stakes were raised and artists of more legendary status started to appear on stage. First up we had Dire Straits but then we had the band who is generally thought to have stolen the show that day, Queen. I have written about their Live Aid performance around here before and it’s my second most visited post ever (link here) so won’t repeat myself, but Freddie was on especially fine form that day and owned the stage, encouraging the crowd to sing along in unison. His sustained “Aaaaaay-o” during the a cappella section came to be known as the note heard round the world. The last time I wrote about their set on Live Aid day I shared Radio Gaga, but having watched them again this week, the song they finished with was We Are The Champions which was almost as perfect. They certainly were champions that day.
It’s obvious watching this footage that Queen’s set took place just as the sun had gone down, but it wasn’t yet dark. This is my favourite time of the day for any outdoor event as there’s a certain magic about it – No harsh sunlight but not a total absence of light either. In Scotland it’s called The Gloaming and a very special time of the day. Up in Aberdeen it wouldn’t be gloaming for a while yet, so we sat tight and carried on watching the big screen.
Next up was David Bowie, looking very dapper in a powder blue suit and pointy black patent shoes. Another great performance and quoted as being “his last triumph of the 1980s”. He was followed by The Who who hadn’t played together for three years. No powder blue suit for Roger Daltrey, oh no indeed. As ever he had his shirt open showing off his hairless, suntanned torso. Roger must be doing something right in terms of looking after himself, as at the grand old age of 76 he still looks pretty good today, and I imagine the bare-chested look is something he still favours.
But this was Saturday night in the big city and one by one people were drifting off. The hostelry of choice for 20-somethings in 1985 was the Dutch Mill on Queen’s Road, so leaving the concert behind for a while, my flatmate and I headed in that direction. In those pre-mobile phone days, it was highly likely you would bump into most of your friends on a weekend evening, but when we got there on the evening of the 13th July, it was dead, as everyone was at home watching Live Aid. We had a quick drink then walked the short distance back to our flat in the city centre.
The Dutch Mill, Aberdeen
Once home we settled back into our large beige and brown sofa (it was the ’80s) and turned on our Radio Rentals telly. I can’t be sure, and I would be lying if I said I was, but the artist following on from The Who was Elton John so if we did get back in time for his set that’s who we would have watched next. Having viewed the boxset this week, Elton had the longest time on stage of anyone and he performed a couple of duets, first with his old mucker Kiki Dee, and then joy of joys, with the person I have written about most around here, George Michael.
I have mentioned the making of the Band Aidsingle before, and how the Wham! boys George and Andrew weren’t treated with much respect that day by the other artists, being proponents at the time of feel-good pop tunes. But here we were just six months on and Elton John saw fit to ask George to sing Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me with him. He said he was ‘a great admirer of his musical talent’ when introducing him, and I have to say he gives an impeccable performance here. Also, unlike many others that day, he was dressed simply in jeans, white T-shirt and black leather jacket which is kind of timeless (we’ll ignore the fact it was dark and he’s wearing shades). His Live Aid appearance has stood the test of time and he went on to great things whereas those who had laughed at him are perhaps long forgotten.
Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me by George Michael and Elton John:
The Wembley concert finished off with a set by Paul McCartney who had been persuaded out of retirement for the event. Sadly he was the only artist on the night to experience microphone failure, so the audience missed out totally on one of his songs. It was fixed quite quickly but typical it had to happen to him. Once finished, he and Bowie raised Bob Geldof up on their shoulders, and then, along with the rest of the performers from the day (and a few others it seems) they launched into a version of Do They Know It’s Christmas?, the charity single that started the whole thing off. The first two lines were a bit ropey, sung by Bowie and Bob, but then they wisely handed the mic over to a safe pair of hands in the form of George Michael, who very confidently took over.
I think we spent a good few hours in front of the telly that night as we then watched the rest of the Philadelphia Live Aid concert, which would go on for a fair while yet due to time differences. The programmers also revisited ‘the best bits’ of the day, so by the time I went to bed in the early hours, I’d pretty much seen everything.
So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – I’m not going to get into the whole criticisms and controversy aspect of Live Aid. All the money may not have got to the right places, at the right time, but around 1.9 billion people watched the concerts that day and over £150 million was raised. There is no denying, the publicity generated meant that western governments could no longer ignore humanitarian crises. Through rock ‘n’ roll, the common language of the planet, an issue that was not hitherto on the political agenda, became so.
As for this post, it was for my own benefit really, as I have never documented My Live Aid Day and always wanted to. The flatmate I spent it with FaceTimed me the other day and is coming up to visit next month (as long as that pesky virus is kept under control) and the workmate with the broken heart soon got over it, and we still keep in touch via Christmas cards. The boyfriend of the time chose to spend that summer travelling round France with a work colleague, so missed out on Live Aid totally. Needless to say he soon became the ex-boyfriend upon his return, and we are definitely no longer in touch.
How did you spend your Live Aid day? I have met a few people over the years who were actually at Wembley for the concert and I love hearing their stories. If you have any, I’d love to hear from you.
Until next time…
Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me Lyrics (Song by Elton John/Bernie Taupin)
I can’t light no more of your darkness All my pictures seem to fade to black and white I’m growing tired and time stands still before me Frozen here on the ladder of my life
It’s much too late to save myself from falling I took a chance and changed your way of life But you misread my meaning when i met you Closed the door and left me blinded by the light
Don’t let the sun go down on me Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free But losing everything is like the sun going down on me
I can’t find the right romantic line But see me once and see the way feel Don’t discard me just because you think I mean you harm But these cuts I have they need love to help them heal
Oh, don’t let the sun go down on me Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free Cause’ losing everything is like the sun going down on me
Don’t let the sun go down on me Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I that see, yeah I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free baby, oh Cause’ losing everything is like the sun going down on me
Many of the songs I share around here come from film and television, as borne out by the sheer number of posts in each of those categories on my sidebar. It was obvious early on in the evolution of this blog, that unless I was revisiting songs from my chart-loving/album buying years of the 1970s and ’80s, much of the music I have warmed to over the decades has come from watching something on the big, or small, screen.
I recently wrote about the Eurovision Song Contest, which like everything else this year didn’t happen, but for us fans of such fluff and nonsense there has been a bit of a reprieve in the form of the new Will Ferrell film Eurovision Song Contest: The Story Of Fire Saga. It went straight to Netflix so despite there being no cinemas yet open around here we have been able to watch it twice. There have been a few scathing reviews and on the whole it was not a winner with the critics, but hey, what do they know? During these dark times it has offered up a couple of hours of pure escapism and as an oficiando of all things Eurovision, and someone who in the past memorised vast amounts of info on the runners and riders, there were some great cameos and in-jokes which will have been lost on our friends across the pond.
Even if you’re not a fan of Eurovision, or a fan of comedic musicals, the scenery alone makes it a worthwhile watch. Our wannabe contest winners, Fire Saga, have become the unlikely representatives for little Iceland and their home town Húsavík is featured heavily in the film – I’m guessing that once we’re able to travel more freely again, it will be heavily inundated by tourists. (Whether they are wanted is another matter, and a standing joke throughout the film, but I’ll leave that for you to discover should you watch it for yourselves.)
Húsavík in Iceland
One of the showstopping songs from the film is also called Húsavík, written as a love letter to their home town, and performed by Fire Saga member Sigrit Ericksdóttir (expertly played by Rachel McAdams). It has formed a bit of an earworm for me this week, partly because it’s a great song, and partly because it’s so relevant to what’s happening in our neighbourhood.
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that we had DD back living with us in the Highlands as the current crisis made her realise more than ever that big city life is not for her. But also, one by one, our neighbours’ adult children have similarly returned to their respective nests as this lockdown period has not been kind to the young in terms of job losses, accommodation unsuitable for home-working, and sadly, relationship breakdown. It seems when the chips are down, like Lars and Sigrit from Iceland, your home town is often just where you want to be, and despite all the turmoil of the last few months I haven’t seen DD so happy in years. We don’t have whales up here (as they do in Húsavík), but we do have the Moray Firth Dolphins, and she has loved her long walks along the coast with old friends since returning to her home town.
Where the mountains sing through the screams of seagulls Where the whales can live ’cause they’re gentle people (or dolphins?) In my hometown, my hometown
Thought I made it clear, do I have to say it? It was always there, we just didn’t see it All I need is you and me and my home
Húsavík by Molly Sandén:
But this of course is a song from a film and it’s not always the case that the actor playing the role of the singer, does the actual singing. It has been a long-standing tradition in the making of movies and I remember well that scene in Singin’ In The Rain when poor old Lina Lamont was humiliated when the curtains went back to reveal a young Debbie Reynolds/Kathy Seldon at the microphone. In the Eurovision film it is Swedish singer Molly (My Marianne) Sandén who takes the honours so credit where credit’s due, although it seems they did mix her voice with that of Rachel McAdams to a certain extent, which seems to have worked well. Turns out Molly represented Sweden in the Junior Eurovision Song Contest in 2006, so quite apt really.
Molly Sandén
So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – Sometimes you’re just in the mood for watching a feel-good comedy and the film written about in this post ticked all the boxes for me. A couple of years ago a film called The Greatest Showman was similarly panned by the critics, but unless you lived under a rock in 2018, you will know it spawned a best-selling album and kept returning to the top spot time and time again in terms of box-office takings. The showstopping song in that film, Never Enough, was very similar in style to the one featured above, and although I thought at the time it was sung by actress Rebecca Ferguson, who played Swedish Nightingale Jenny Lind, it was American singer Loren Allred who took the honours that time. Two films, one where a Swede sings for an American and one where an American sings for a Swede!
Never Enough by Loren Allred:
As for our adult children returning to their home town, like many others have found during this crisis, priorities can change. We do have short memories however and as we are seeing an opening up of much of our economy, people seem anxious to get back out there, doing what they used to do. Cross fingers it doesn’t result in the dreaded second wave we keep hearing about. The 21st century phenomenon FOMO (fear of missing out) has been thankfully absent from our lives of late, but as things start to get back to normal it will no doubt return with a vengeance as get-togethers are shared on social media. Let’s hope we have learnt something from this downtime and that the “old normal” does not return in full any time soon.
Until next time….
Húsavík Lyrics (Song by Fat Max Gsus/Rickard Göransson/Kotecha)
All by myself With this great big world before me But it’s all for someone else I’ve tried and tried again To let you know just where my heart is To tell the truth and not pretend
All I needed was to get away Just to realize that I was meant to stay
Where the mountains sing through the screams of seagulls Where the whales can live ’cause they’re gentle people In my hometown, my hometown Thought I made it clear, do I have to say it? It was always there, we just didn’t see it All I need is you and me and my home
Vera með þér, með þér Í Húsavík við Skjálfanda Í heimabærinn minn
You want the world (Want the world) All the neon lights and billboards To be seen and to be heard (Heard) And I followed you (Oh-ooh) But now I know what makes me happy And I can tell you feel it too
Where the mountains sing through the screams of seagulls Where the whales can live ’cause they’re gentle people In my hometown, my hometown Where the northern lights burst out in colors And the magic nights surpass all others Það eina sem ég þrái er, að vera
ALYSON: Well, another week in lockdown here in Scotland…..
WIAA: Alyson, whoa, this is supposed to be a music blog yet you keep treating me like your personal diary, recording your thoughts, telling everyone what’s going on in your life. Where are the songs, the memories, the bits of trivia?
ALYSON: True, it has kind of gone that way of late, but good to get those thoughts down on your virtual pages. It’ll be interesting in the future to look back at this time and remind ourselves of what we went through.
WIAA: Maybe, but you’re no Anne Frank are you, so can we please just get back to the songs.
ALYSON: DD and I visited the Anne Frank museum in Amsterdam the summer after she left school. We queued for a long, long time to get in, but well worth it. Many of us are feeling cooped up and isolated at the moment, but nothing compared to what those two families and the dentist went through.
WIAA: Any songs come to mind from that trip?
ALYSON: Hmm… not really. DD and I had very different musical tastes at that time so nothing really springs to mind.
WIAA: Any pictures?
ALYSON: Loads.
WIAA: Anything that might inspire a song?
ALYSON: Well, we also went to the Van Gogh museum and learnt a lot about the man and his art. A place bathed in golden light, what with all the yellow sunflowers bouncing off the walls. Here is a picture of a wax model of Vincent, holding his palette. He also appears to be still in possession of his left ear at this point, but I suppose a big, bloody bandage would have scared the kiddies. And, is it just me, but does he not look uncannily like a hipster of today?
WIAA: Waiting…. . The song?
ALYSON: Isn’t it obvious? Vincent by Don McLean, and not the one who used to appear on Crackerjack.
WIAA: At last. Good choice. Let’s hear it.
Vincent by Don McLean:
ALYSON: I remember well listening to this song on my mum and dad’s old wireless (lots of wires actually) back in 1972. We already knew of Don McLean as American Pie had been a big hit the year before, but here he was coming along with something else from that album, a beautiful and soothing melody. I don’t think it probably registered with me at the time that the song was about Vincent Van Gogh the artist, as you only find out about these things as you become more worldly wise. Don had apparently been reading a biography of Van Gogh, and suddenly knew he had to write a song about the artist and his mental illness. He sat down with a print of Starry Night and wrote out the lyrics on a paper bag. Crikey, just how many great songs have started life on a napkin or paper bag?
Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh
WIAA: Thanks for that Alyson, another song to add to my archives. As a reward I’ll let you tell everyone about your week.
ALYSON: I now feel as if the moment has passed, and anyway I have to head off soon to visit my mum in her care home, the first visit in nearly four months so it will be very weird. I have to wear a mask, get my temperature checked and sit outside with her 2m apart, so certainly not back to normal, but how it has to be in the “new normal” I suppose.
We’re off to collect the rest of DD’s belongings tomorrow, which is bittersweet, as it was this week last year she headed off to begin her new life in the South of Scotland. Not quite back to square one however, as somehow she has managed to get herself a new job already, which is quite remarkable in the current climate (wish I had her ability to ace interviews).
It seems my holiday hideaway can now be opened up for single household guests and I have a family coming next week who want to visit, but not stay with, the grandparents who live nearby. Sadly it means DD has had to vacate for a while, but as long as I can handle the level of cleaning and sanitising now required, she is happy to do so. Only private lets this year so shouldn’t be too onerous.
Last not but least I had an exciting package arrive this morning, the latest instalment of Rol and Rob’s Department of the Peculiar comic book series. I have had a sneaky peek already but intend to leave full consumption until later in the day, when it can be properly savoured with no distractions. They really are very talented.
WIAA: Sounds as if you’re going to be busy this weekend Alyson so I’d better let you go. I think we’re back on track around here (no pun intended) but just remember, here is where we revisit the songs of your youth, so lets not get too side-tracked by all that’s going on in the world. People come here for a bit of a break from the real world and don’t want to hear your moans and groans. Are we cool with that?
ALYSON: Yes cool with that WIAA.
WIAA: Right then, time to sign off for today. What is it you usually say? Ah yes, until next time…
Vincent Lyrics (Song by Don McLean)
Starry, starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer’s day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills Sketch the trees and the daffodils Catch the breeze and the winter chills In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand What you tried to say to me And how you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps they’ll listen now
Starry, starry night Flaming flowers that brightly blaze Swirling clouds in violet haze Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue Morning fields of amber grain Weathered faces lined in pain Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand
Now I understand What you tried to say to me And how you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps they’ll listen now
For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night
You took your life, as lovers often do But I could’ve told you Vincent This world was never meant for One as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night Portraits hung in empty halls Frame-less heads on nameless walls With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget
Like the strangers that you’ve met The ragged men in ragged clothes The silver thorn of bloody rose Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know What you tried to say to me And how you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they’re not listening still Perhaps they never will
I seem to have veered way off topic on this blog over the last few months and the nostalgic journey through the tracks of my years element (as per the tagline above) has all but been forgotten about. But hey, that’s what a global pandemic will do to you. I now realise however, I may have been a culprit of ‘doomsurfing/doomscrolling’ whereby I spend many hours a day scrolling through the various news streams on my phone, picking up on every new development as it happens. I am well informed, but maybe too well-informed, and I think it has led to some ghosting (‘the practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication’) by old friends.
I have been in touch with a fair few old friends since March and am now realising that one or two are no longer replying to my messages and certainly don’t instigate conversation. A side-effect of doomsurfing seems to be that I have become a doom and gloom merchant! But hey, yet again, that’s what a global pandemic will do to you. I’m not sure I can totally change my ways however, so just another downside to the crisis,
So it seems it’s time for me to change my ways around here, or else I may lose the support of all you lovely followers too. Shit happens as they say, and what better way to drag ourselves out of the doom and gloom than by listening to some great tunes. Last week I shared something by Bananarama and discovered their first hit single, (He Was) Really Saying Something, was unbeknownst to me at the time a cover of an early sixties Velvelettes recording.
The Velvelettes were an American girl group, signed to Motown in the 1960s. Their biggest chart success occurred in 1964, when Norman Whitfield produced Needle in a Haystack which peaked at number 45 on the Billboard Chart. I’m not sure why some of these girl groups went on to great things and others kind of drifted away but it seems they needed to be both championed by those in charge (Berry Gordy) and have a hunger for success above all else. Cue the Supremes. Founded as The Primettes in 1959, the Supremes were the most commercially successful of Motown’s acts, with 12 No. 1 singles on the Billboard Chart. At their peak in the mid-1960s, the Supremes rivalled the Beatles in worldwide popularity and their success possibly made it easier for future African American R&B and soul musicians to find mainstream success.
And here is where we return to Bananarama yet again, as another of their Top 20 hits, Nathan Jones, was a cover of a Supremes song. By 1971 Diana Ross had left the group and their lead voice was now that of Jean Terrell, but along with Mary Wilson and Cindy Birdsong they racked up a good few more hits during that era, Up The Ladder To The Roof, Stoned Love and Floy Joy to name but a few. Strangely enough both Bananarama versions of these Motown songs were hits 17 years after the original. Maybe that’s just the amount of time it takes for a song to become fresh again and for listeners not to confuse it with its first incarnation. I for one certainly didn’t know about these earlier versions when I was an avid fan of Bananarama in the 1980s.
Nathan Jones by the Supremes:
So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – Funny how things often turn full circle when you write an off-the-cuff blog post as I’m doing today. The song Nathan Jones is apparently about a woman’s former lover, a man named Nathan Jones who left her nearly a year ago ‘to ease his mind.’ Suffering through the long separation (‘winter’s passed, spring, and fall’) without any contact or communication between herself and Jones (ghosting?), the narrator is no longer in love with him, remarking that ‘Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long’. It’s a bit of a coward’s way out, but just goes to show, the practice of withdrawing from all communication is still alive and well today, possibly even more so with the advent of online dating apps and such like.
As for me, I plan to curb my ‘doomsurfing’ activities somewhat but going to be hard after all these weeks. Having really enjoyed this nostalgic journey through the tracks of my years, it would be a shame for me to lose all the goodwill I’ve built up by being the merchant of doom! Please feel free to let me know if I overstep the mark.
Until next time….
Nathan Jones Lyrics (Song by Leonard Caston/Kathy Wakefield)
You packed your bags, as I recall And you walked slowly down the hall You said you had to get away to ease your mind And all you needed was a just little of time
Oh, winter’s passed, spring and fall You never wrote me, you never called (Yeah) Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long Gone too long (Gone too long)
If a woman could die of tears Nathan Jones, I wouldn’t be here The key that you’re holding won’t fit my door And there’s no room in my heart for you no more
‘Cause winter’s passed, spring and fall You never wrote me, you never called (Oh-oh) Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long Gone too long
Do-do-do
Nathan Jones Nathan Jones Mm-hmm Nathan Jones, oh
Winter’s passed, spring and fall You never wrote me, you never called (Oh-oh) Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long Mm-mm-mm, Gone too long (Gone too long) Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long (Gone too long) You’ve been gone too long (Gone too long) Hey, Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long (Gone too long) Hey, you know, you’ve been gone (Gone too long) Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long (Gone too long)
It’s Saturday morning which is usually my preferred slot for a weekly blogging session however I am struggling to find inspiration. That’s not actually true, it’s more that I am still overwhelmed by what’s going on in the world, and can’t seem to snap out of it. Is it just me, or is the initial relief the country felt at being in full lockdown starting to morph into something quite different? I think it is only now starting to hit home that there won’t be a V-shaped bounce back for the economy, and many will lose their jobs and businesses.
Talking of which, last Saturday we had a tricky manoeuvre to perform in getting DD back home to the Highlands but we managed without breaking (too many) rules. Back in March she had a pretty good life for someone her age but this pandemic has put paid to that – Once you lose your job, bit by bit you lose everything else and although she is by no means the only one, it’s a bitter pill to swallow. Today is the summer solstice, astronomically the first day of summer (written about here before). In years gone by I would have probably had a wee soiree for the neighbours, but this is going to be a Cruel Summer I can tell, so not really in the mood. Cue Bananarama.
Cruel Summer by Bananarama:
Anyone who was around at the time will know that Bananarama were incredibly prolific in the 1980s and they ended up being listed in the Book of Guinness World Records for achieving the world’s highest number of chart entries by an all-female group. They came along just at the time my life as a student was coming to an end but we weren’t ready to cast our student wardrobes aside quite yet and I remember those Bananarama-inspired dungarees and baggy T-shirts were a staple right through those transition years. They had caught the eye of Terry Hall, and in February 1982 released It Ain’t What You Do (It’s The Way That You Do It) with Fun Boy Three, which got to the No. 5 spot in the UK Singles Chart. By the time Cruel Summer hit the charts in July 1983, they’d already had 5 other hit singles!
As we are contemporaries, it’s always interesting to see the girls when they pop up on telly today. Although they lost Siobhan Fahey for a good while as she embarked on other projects, she got back together with fellow Bananaramers Sara Dallin and Keren Woodward in 2017, and they completed a world tour. The dungarees have gone, in favour of the little black dress, but I don’t begrudge them that at all. Once we ladies get to a certain age the clothes of our youth just look silly on us, although we can still rock the shoes. Back in 1982/83, when we copied their look, it was all about the shoes. A large sector of the female population was at that time going down the white stiletto route, even with dungarees. You could always tell which “tribe” a girl belonged to because of her shoes – It was always Doc Martins and loafers for Bananarama and if I’m not mistaken they still marry up their old footwear of choice with their little black dresses of today. Way to go girls.
So ‘What’s It All About?’ – It’s going to be a tough old summer for many of us I suspect. I keep telling DD she is not alone, as if that somehow makes it better, but of course it doesn’t. As my holiday house is sitting empty at the moment she at least has somewhere to stay whilst she tries to regroup. I had been optimistic recently about my ability to reopen the holiday hideaway for staycations later in the summer, but having seen the many cleaning protocols and risk assessments that (understandably) need to be completed ahead of each guest arriving, like many others in the hospitality and tourism sectors, I am starting to wonder whether it will be possible. Based on costs/unit of hospitality, we should now be charging around £30 for each drink in a pub and around £500 for each night away. With a recession looming, just don’t think that’s going to be possible.
I’ve not exactly come back with a very positive post today, but at least I’ve eased the blockage which had stopped me from writing. I have had something very positive happen to me of late however which involves this blog. What did they say to Kevin Costner in Field Of Dreams? – ‘If you build it, they will come.’ Something along those lines and I hope to share more in due course.
Until next time….
Cruel Summer Lyrics (Song by Sara Dallin/Siobhan Fahey/Steve Jolley/Tony Swain/Keren Woodward)
Hot summer streets And the pavements are burning I sit around
Trying to smile But the air is so heavy and dry
Strange voices are saying What did they say Things I can’t understand It’s too close for comfort This heat has got right out of hand
It’s a cruel, cruel summer Leaving me here on my own It’s a cruel, cruel summer Now you’re gone
The city is crowded My friends are away And I’m on my own
It’s too hot to handle So I got to get up and go
It’s a cruel, cruel summer Leaving me here on my own It’s a cruel, It’s a cruel, cruel summer Now you’re gone You’re not the only one
What's It All About? 