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.
My very wordy, heavily researched posts are on the back burner at the moment I’m afraid, but a quick scan of this photograph has given me a great opportunity to write a short and snappy post explaining why. My poor mum had a fall last week, and on top of all her other health issues, it has made life very difficult for her. I’m doing my best to look after her on my own as it seems the resources are no longer there to get help from elsewhere – Eventually, perhaps, but we’ll have to be patient. Will soldier on in the meantime.
Mum and Dad, circa 1955
This is my favourite picture of my mum and dad, taken in the mid 1950s in Trafalgar Square (didn’t they always look so smart in those days). I think many of my peers will also have a similar picture of their parents from that era. I know Mr Medd from Are We There Yet? does, as he shared it with us recently (click on link for the post).
So that’s the visual, but what would they have been listening to around that time? I still have their old 78s in my collection and the one that always brings a tear to my eye is this one, Jimmy Unknown by Doris Day – My dad was indeed a “Jimmy” and was one of life’s unsung heroes who always led by example, doing lots of great work for his community. At the time of this picture he was general foreman, and my mum the boss’s secretary, at the local building firm which seemed to soak up all the school leavers back in the day. Long gone now of course, but many happy years were spent there for both of them.
Sorry I’ve been absent from the comments boxes of the blogs I usually have time to visit, but will have to curb my blogging activities for a while I’m afraid – Hopefully you will all understand.
Until next time….
Jimmy Unknown Lyrics (Song by Ruth Roberts/Bill Katz)
Who will be my Jimmy Unknown? Someone to love me and call me his own Over the mountain Over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
Will he be handsome? Will he be strong? Lifting my heart like a beautiful song Over the mountain Over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
The day I surrendered My lips to his charms My secret of love Will be lost in his arms
Who will be my Jimmy Unknown? Someone who never would leave me alone Over the mountain Over the sea Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me
Since 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 have written about each one as they appear in our skies. To accompany the post I always include one of the numerous songs that have been written about the moon and its many foibles.
Well, it comes round quickly doesn’t it, and I don’t know about you but up here in Scotland I’ve not actually seen any kind of moon for some time, as once the heatwave of 2018 broke here in Scotland, there’s been cloudy night skies ever since. Yesterday evening however I dragged Mr WIAA out on the town, as amazingly the sun had come out and it being the last Saturday night of the summer I felt the need to…, not so much celebrate, but have a last hurrah before it all starts getting a bit autumnal around here.
The town was heaving with tourists who seem to show no sign of going anywhere for a while yet – Great for the local economy, but not maybe so great for the likes of us, who had spontaneously decided to eat out without booking something in advance. After having a bit of a trawl of our favourite eateries it became apparent it would have to be a bar meal, in one of DD’s favourite haunts in fact, but by then we were so hungry we were in no position to be picky and very nice it was too. So, lots of “people watching” ensued (one of my favourite pastimes) and listening to loud music, but also a large glass of wine for me as for once I wasn’t the designated driver.
With all the sunshine earlier on in the evening I felt sure I would see the moon on the way home, but sadly the clouds had yet again decided to form a blanket across our skies so it wasn’t to be – By this time you see, I was in the mood for a moon dance, and had that taken place I would have probably written this post last night, a tad under the influence. Although tipsy blogging has worked well for me in the past, there is always a risk that something might go horribly wrong and as we all know to our cost, once that publish button is pressed the words are out there for the world to see (or in my case the people who kindly follow this blog or casually stumble upon it) so probably best that I waited.
By now you must have guessed that this month’s moon-related song is going to be Van Morrison’sMoondance. The August full moon should appear in our skies tonight, Sunday the 26th, but looking through the windowpane right now, I’m pretty sure I won’t be seeing this one as it’s expected to rain all day. No matter, I can cheer myself up by watching a clip of Van the Man performing the song in his usual jolly, upbeat fashion – Oh no, that’s right, Van doesn’t do jolly and upbeat so instead it’ll be a bit of an interesting clip that reminds me of the journey home last night (although my one had a lot less traffic).
Moondance by Van Morrison:
This song is the one most frequently performed by Van in concert and although not released as a single until 1977, it was first recorded in 1970 for the album of the same name. He apparently wrote Moondance first of all as a jazz saxophone instrumental and then added the lyrics later. As we all know he is highly reticent to talk about his music, feeling the songs should speak for themselves (the darling of the talk shows he is not), but I’m pretty sure many of us would have Moondance somewhere in our personal Top 100.
When it comes to Van, I feel he is like one of those friends we all have, the one who is always late or lets us down in some way but whom we continually excuse because they are just such great company when we do get to spend time with them. He may be a bit grumpy on stage, and it’s a bit of a hit or a miss whether his live show will be a triumph or a bit of a disappointment, but we all forgive him because his canon of work is just so sublime.
But something is missing here isn’t it? I haven’t yet given this August full moon a name. It’s apparently called the Sturgeon Moon, as for the Native Americans that was when they were most likely to catch the giant sturgeon that populate the Great Lakes and Lake Champlain. I’ve known this particular moon was coming up for some time but however hard I try, I just can’t think fish, fish, fish…. No, being a Scot I just think of our First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon and here’s a great clip of Gary: Tank Commander (played by the wonderful Greg McHugh), interviewing the lady herself ahead of the last Scottish Parliament election. Probably hard to understand if you live outwith Scotland, but in my opinion, very funny.
Only two more moons to go in this series before I’ve covered all 12 months but because of the 29 and a half day cycle between full moons, and a few foibles unique to this year, there are a couple that have been missed. As it seems there is a never ending supply of songs with the word moon in their lyrics, this could be one series that just keeps on going. I can never quite get my head round the whole concept of what is beyond the moon, the solar system and the galaxy of stars we find ourselves part of – Infinity it’s called, so maybe this could become theinfinite moon series. Let’s see.
Until next time….
Moondance Lyrics (Song by Van Morrison)
Well it’s a marvellous night for a moondance With the stars up above in your eyes A fantabulous night to make romance ‘Neath the cover of October skies And all the leaves on the trees are falling To the sound of the breezes that blow And I’m trying to please to the calling Of your heart-strings that play soft and low You know the night’s magic Seems to whisper and hush And all the soft moonlight Seems to shine in your blush…
Can I just have one a’ more moondance with you, my love? Can I just make some more romance with a’ you, my love?
Well I wanna make love to you tonight I can’t wait till the morning has come And I know now the time is just right And straight into my arms you will run And when you come my heart will be waiting To make sure that you’re never alone There and then all my dreams will come true dear There and then I will make you my own And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside And I know how much you want me that, you can’t hide…
Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love? Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?
Well it’s a marvellous night for a moondance With the stars up above in your eyes A fantabulous night to make romance ‘Neath the cover of October skies And all the leaves on the trees are falling To the sound of the breezes that blow And I’m trying to please to the calling Of your heart-strings that play soft and low You know the night’s magic Seems to whisper and hush And all the soft moonlight Seems to shine in your blush…
One more moondance with you In the moonlight On a magic night la, la, la, la, there’s a moonlight On a magic night Can’t I just have one more dance With you my love?
A couple of Saturdays ago I got up at the crack of dawn and caught the first train south to Edinburgh. An ex-flatmate from student days had recently been back in touch – inevitably via Facebook – and she was keen to have a bit of a reunion. As one of the other girls from the flat (we’ll always be girls however old we get) was coming up to Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival, a meet-up there seemed to make sense as the rest of us all still live in Scotland. As an aside, another thing that precipitated this reunion was that one of our number has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease, which came as a massive shock to all of us. It’s too easy to put off these kind of reunions as it can be tricky finding dates that work for everyone, but this news certainly galvanised us into action, for obvious reasons.
There certainly was a lot going on in Edinburgh the Saturday I arrived at Waverley Station. We knew however that much of our time would be spent just catching up, as we hadn’t actually met up with the instigator of this reunion for 37 years. She’d left a year earlier than the rest of us to coincide with her student boyfriend’s departure, as he was a year older. They got married within 12 months, and wait for it, are still together! I suppose I shouldn’t be so shocked, but it just didn’t work out that way for the rest of us, so full of admiration for anyone who has gone the distance so to speak.
After the mid-morning coffee and the boozy lunch, it had been suggested we head along to the National Museum, as the much-publicised exhibition entitled Rip It Up, The Story of Scottish Pop was currently running. It certainly did chronicle the music we Scots have been responsible for inflicting on an unsuspecting nation (world?) over the last 60 years or so, taking us right back to Lonnie Donegan and ending up with the Chvrches by way of Lulu, The Rollers, Deacon Blue, the Soup Dragons and Franz Ferdinand to name but a few.
Only the previous week however I had finally caught up with all three episodes of the BBC 2 documentary series also called Rip It Up (link here), so I was already familiar with “the story” and had seen most of the audio-visual material used as part of the exhibition. Also, there was a strict no taking pictures policy in operation so that kind of ruined my chances of creating a blog post out of my visit (but I’m still going to try). What was great however was to see all that rock and pop memorabilia, donated both by fans and the pop sensations themselves, which had been pulled together for the exhibition.
My last blog post before this visit was as a result of having been set the challenge of writing about James Yorkston (link here) which is when I found out about Fence Records, set up by Kenny Anderson (aka King Creosote). One of the items on display was the actual fence used as inspiration for the artwork for Kenny’s album, still boldly displaying the words KC RULES OK.
Display cabinet with that very fence
Fence Records
There were of course an awful lot of guitars, records and sheet music filling up the glass cases but for me it was the clothes I enjoyed looking at most. Considering I was meandering around these displays with people I had shared a flat with in 1980/81, a few memories invariably came to mind. Both myself and the instigator of the reunion had been lucky enough to receive little black and white portable tellies from Santa that academic year, so from January 1981 onward we took turns in hosting the viewing of TOTP on Thursdays at 7.30pm. That was of course the era of New Romanticism and the charts were littered with acts who were very prone to dressing up in elaborate frills and falderals.
A band who will always be remembered for producing a highly pretentious, airy fairy video at that time was Ultravox, headed up by Scottish singer Midge Ure. The song it accompanied was of course Vienna, which became infamous for losing out on the UK Singles Chart’s top spot (for weeks on end) to an Australian called Joe Dolce with his novelty song Shaddap You Face. Along with many other iconic outfits in the exhibition, there was the very raincoat Midge wore for the video.
Vienna by Ultravox:
Other panels of interest contained a display of some of the many albums made by Scottish acts over the years – I can only identify a few of the less obvious ones, but I’m sure a fair few of the blogging buddies could identify many more. Some interesting snippets of info up there too – Did you know that in 1975, the Average White Band was the first Scottish band to get to No. 1 in both the US Singles and Album Charts simultaneously? No, me neither, but I do now courtesy of the exhibition.
Last stop was of course the gift shop, and although I didn’t actually buy this Bay City Rollers badge (because I already have one!), it was worthy of a picture. Plenty of nice new T-shirts on offer as well for those of us whose originals have perhaps seen better days (or perhaps that’s the point).
I will leave you with a link to the playlists of songs inspired by the exhibition – From Scottish pop classics to the tracks that mean the most to the people involved in creating the exhibition. Also, one last image, this time of the iconic outfit worn by Annie Lennox during her Eurythmics partnership with Dave Stewart. Considering our little reunion was the result of having once-upon-a-time shared a student flat in Aberdeen, where Annie was born and brought up, it would be fitting to include something by her. I used to find it quite amusing that during my decade of living in Aberdeen, just about every female I encountered had either been to school with her or knew her – Looking back, if you were 5 years older or 5 years younger you probably did attend school at the same time, but highly unlikely you will still be in touch. Just sayin’.
Here Comes The Rain Again by the Eurythmics:
So, “What’s It All About?” – First and foremost, if the chance comes up to reconnect with old friends, don’t keep putting it off as to my cost I have found that some of my old friendship groups are now reduced in number. Not something you really want to think about, but now that people are starting to retire, it should mean get-togethers are logistically a bit easier to organise, but it also means we are all getting older. Enough said.
As for the Rip It Up exhibition, it is on until November, and well worth a visit if you have any interest at all in the history of Scottish Pop. If like me you have already watched the Rip It Up documentary, there is a big overlap, but still lots of memorabilia to bring on a dose of nostalgia. We are used to our museum artefacts from ancient cultures presented to us in the form of pottery, jewellery and crafts. In the future, the artefacts attributed to our time on the planet will be vinyl, trousers with tartan down the sides and button badges. What will they make of us as a culture I wonder, in the year 3000AD?
Until next time…. , Shang-a-Lang!
Vienna Lyrics (Song by Warren Cann/Chris Cross/Billy Currie/Midge Ure)
Walked in the cold air Freezing breath on a window pane Lying and waiting A man in the dark in a picture frame So mystic and soulful A voice reaching out in a piercing cry It stays with you until
The feeling has gone only you and I It means nothing to me This means nothing to me Oh, Vienna
The music is weaving Haunting notes, pizzicato strings The rhythm is calling Alone in the night as the daylight brings A cool empty silence The warmth of your hand and a cold grey sky It fades to the distance
The image has gone only you and I It means nothing to me This means nothing to me Oh, Vienna
This means nothing to me This means nothing to me Oh, Vienna
Well, as I sit down to start blogging for the first time in a couple of weeks, I feel a little nauseous – No, not at the thought of blogging, but because half and hour ago I had to leap out of bed and get ready to face the day at breakneck speed. The reason for this haste? – Ididn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the postman!
This sounds ridiculous I know, but since giving up work last year I’ve been able to have a more laissez-faire attitude to becoming suited and booted by 8am every morning. Problem is, once you log on for the day, the hours and minutes can whizz by and I sometimes find myself still in pyjamas when the doorbell rings, knowing full well it will be our smiling postman, with some parcel or other I have to sign for. I probably imagine it, but he makes me feel like a tardy teen who has been festering under the duvet, as opposed to a busy bee who has already put on a washing, tidied the kitchen, paid a few bills and checked the various email accounts. To compensate I end up gibbering, telling him about everything that is going on in my life, but a nice little exchange all the same. My friend the postman is the only person other than my family (and the blogging fraternity who very kindly take the time to read my posts) who knows of the journey I have been on over the last year, since deciding the world of the paperless office was not for me.
As this blog always features a song or two, this would therefore seem like the perfect time to squeeze in something I have long wanted to include, Please Mr. Postman. Now this is a song I am very familiar with as one of my favourite duos, the Carpenters, got to No. 2 in the UK Singles Chart in 1975 with their version. It started out however as the debut single for the Marvelettes and in late 1961 became the first Motown song to reach the No. 1 spot on the Billboard Hot 100. The Beatles started performing it as part of their live set at the Cavern Club in 1962 and also included it on one of their first albums. Here is a great clip from those days, the boys dressed in their very smart suits complete with snake hips and mop top haircuts. They would have had no idea back then of what was yet to come.
Last time the Beatles cropped up around these parts was when I did a compare and contrast (link here) between their version of Ticket to Ride and the slower paced one, yet again, by the Carpenters. Seems like a good time to offer up both versions of Mr Postman then (although I won’t inflict the Carpenter’s official Disney-themed video clip on you). Which one do you prefer, or would it be the original by the Marvelettes that floats your boat?
Please Mr. Postman by the Carpenters:
But I digress and have yet to explain my morning nausea caused by leaping out of bed at such speed. I woke up last night at 3.30am, which is fairly normal for me, but I usually get back to sleep at some point and get a few extra hours in before the 7 o’clock alarm goes off. Last night however I didn’t, as I had committed the cardinal sin of surfing the net on my phone before going to sleep as I still hadn’t worked out the angle I was going to take when I eventually get round to writing my Aretha Franklin tribute. Not so long ago, after “experiencing” the song I Say A Little Prayer at great volume on the car radio, I wrote another compare and contrast post (link here). The Aretha version of course won hands down, but other than that I’m finding it difficult to find a personal connection to her music. I can see how she came along at just the right time, when America was going through a period of massive change, but having been born about 20 years later in rural Scotland, other than appreciating that great voice and the passion with which she sang, nothing much else for me to write about.
Aretha Franklin 1942- 2018
So, the last thing I did last night before switching off my phone was to visit some of the other blogs in my little circle to remind myself what they had written about Aretha. Last week, even before it was announced she had passed away, CC over at Charity Chic Music had posted something very fitting and then Rol dedicated the whole weekend on his My Top Ten blog to the lady and her music. Both of these dedicated daily bloggers chose to include the song Aretha by Rumer and that was the cause of last night’s sleeplessness – After listening to it twice before turning the lights out, it was the first thing to enter my head when I woke up at 3.30am and subsequently formed an earworm for the rest of the night however hard I tried to get back to sleep. As earworms go it’s a very pleasing one, and quite a soporific one you would have thought, Rumer having a voice not that dissimilar to the late great Karen Carpenter. But no, last night it just didn’t work out that way at all.
Aretha by Rumer:
Typically though, once Mr WIAA said goodbye and headed off to work, I slipped into a deep, deep earworm-free sleep, waking up far too late, thus the mad panic to get up and dressed before the postman’s inevitable ring of the doorbell. I made it, just, and so avoided that feeling of guilt at not being up and at it yet. Despite often talking gibberish of a morning, I decided that to recount the tale of the “Rumer earworm” was taking casual conversation a tad too far, so on this occasion resisted – Lucky chap!
As for the tribute song, I may not have had a personal connection to Aretha and her music, but the narrator in this song certainly does – All about a girl who goes to school listening to Aretha Franklin on her headphones. Like the fate of so many others, she’s having trouble there, and as her mother seems to be suffering from depression, she doesn’t have anyone to turn to. Fortunately Aretha comes to life in her imagination, encouraging her to stand up for herself and strike out on her own. The songwriter was asked why she chose Aretha Franklin: “She’s the Queen of Soul. If you’re going to write about somebody who embodies the spirit of music itself you go to the top of the list – and there she is. Her voice is probably the closest you get to God. There’s an incredible amount of passion and heartbreak in her voice as she’s lost a lot of family members. She’s just got something in her voice that puts her at the top of the tree and there’s no negotiation.” And on that note, I think I’ve just written my tribute post.
Until next time, RIP Aretha Franklin.
Aretha Lyrics (Song by Steve Brown/Sarah Joyce)
I got Aretha in the morning High on my headphones and walking to school I got the blues in springtime ’cause I know that I’ll never have the right shoes
Mamma she’d notice but she’s always crying I got no one to confide in, Aretha nobody but you Momma she’d notice but she’s always fighting Something in her mind and it sounds like breaking glass
I tell Aretha in the morning High on my headphones and walking to school I got the blues in springtime ’cause I know that I’ll never have the right shoes
You got the words, baby you got the words You got the words, baby you got the words
“Oh Aretha Aretha, I don’t want to go to school ‘Cause they just don’t understand me and I think the place is cruel”
“Child singer, raise your voice Stand up on your own, go out there and strike out”
I tell Aretha in the morning High on my headphones and walking to school I got the blues in springtime ’cause I know that I’ll never have the right shoes But I got the words
The year 1976 is certainly being bandied about a lot at the moment, because until this current heatwave hit us, there had been no year with a long hot summer that could compete with it. For those of us who remember it first hand however, it was a very different time. It was also the year I turned 16, and so much has changed for the average teenager since then….
I didn’t have to worry about applying high factor sunscreen…, because it didn’t exist yet. I didn’t have to worry about global warming…, because the ice caps were still fully intact and hadn’t begun to seep into the oceans yet. I didn’t have to worry about whether my hair extensions and lip fillers would cope with the heat…, because we simply had short blow-dried hair, and if we were really lucky, little pots of lip gloss. I didn’t have to worry about whether my boyfriend was “talking” to other girls via social media…, because the only social medium we had was the local youth club, so it would have been pretty obvious. Yes, simpler times indeed.
A Jackie magazine cover from 1976
Back in my first year of blogging I wrote a post about the music of 1976, and as no-one saw it back then (except me), time for another airing I feel. A bit of lazy blogging I know, but as I’m still a bit preoccupied with home improvements, time ran out for me this week. Such is life but hopefully back to business as usual very soon.
First published April 2016
Apparently a study has been carried out, and the findings are that any company wishing to target a particular demographic with their advertising, should use music from the time that group turned 16 – In my case that would be 1976. I can see how this would work. If like me you were lucky, and had a stable family background, your material needs were all catered for. You also had a tight regime to your day, with school and probably a Saturday job. You saw your best friends every single day because you went to school with them, and you had a reasonable level of independence as helicopter parenting wouldn’t start for a few decades yet. Top that off with a few short romances that didn’t cause too much distress when they were over, no social media to mess with your head and life was sweet.
We humans are essentially simple beings but as the years go by we accumulate baggage, make life complicated for ourselves and lose the people we love – These giant corporations know that, and home in on our weakness for a pop song that reminds us of simpler times. A really expensive car and some life assurance anyone? Yes by golly, I’ll have both.
Michael Fish – Weatherman
Water shortages and standpipes
1976 was indeed a memorable year and one which I have really fond memories of. It was of course the year of the “long hot summer” where a new government department had to be created – The Ministry for Drought (which then became the Ministry for Floods when summer turned into autumn).
The UK won the Eurovision Song Contest that year with Brotherhood of Man’sSave Your Kisses For Me. Girl/boy bands like BofM were very popular in 1976 and Abba really solidified their position as an international supergroup with hits like Mama Mia, Fernando, Dancing Queen and Money Money Money. Other home grown acts like Guys and Dolls even had a modicum of success.
Abba
Brotherhood of Man
Despite the fact that punk emerged that year, with Malcolm MacLaren’s Sex Pistols out to shock, they or their movement weren’t really making much of an impact on the UK Singles Chart yet – That was pretty much filled with the usual suspects. We had Disco (Tina Charles, Donna Summer), Soft Rock (Chicago, Dr Hook), Country (JJ Barrie, Pussycat and Billie Jo Spears), Novelty songs (The Wurzels), Rock (Queen with their amazing Bohemian Rhapsody), Pop classics (Elton John & Kiki Dee), Soul (The Stylistics, Barry White) and Rock ‘n’ Roll Revival acts (Showaddywaddy).
Queen
The Wurzels
Elton and Kiki
As for me, I was in my 4th year of secondary school which was the last year everyone my age would have to legally attend. In the May of that year we sat our first important exams, “O” Grades as they were called then (short for Ordinary although they didn’t feel very ordinary when you were having to revise for them). When you have big exams coming up, you do spend a lot of time in your bedroom studying, but of course you also need a bit of down time and the radio is probably switched on a fair bit more often than should be. I think I’m still familiar with just about every song that hit the charts in the spring of 1976 and could still tell you which position they reached. After the exams finished, a time of merriment commenced (as per the film Grease) and the two songs I remember clearly from that time are You To Me Are Everything by Liverpool band The Real Thing and Young Hearts Run Free by Candi Staton – If any company used either of those songs in an advert, I would be putty in their hands.
The Real Thing
Candi Staten
As it turned out the exams of 1976 went very well but later on that year many of our classmates left school for good as there were plenty of jobs waiting for 16-year-olds in those days. Those of us who went back to school enjoyed the big hit of the autumn, Chicago’sIf You Leave Me Now, and then over Christmas we were treated to Johnny Mathis with his version of When A Child Is Born (one for the mums and dads).
Chicago
Johnny Mathis
As the academic year went by and we all started to turn 17, the serious business of Higher Grade exams loomed which determined whether or not you would go to University. Like for our old classmates who had already entered the adult world of work, life had got just that little bit more serious and not as carefree as for our 16-year-old selves. The advertisers have therefore got it right I reckon – It’s not the same for everyone, but if you have to pick music from a year that will really boost sales, make it the year your target group turned 16. Works for me and my new really expensive car, and life assurance policy!
I shall leave you with Candi Staton and her June 1976 hit Young Hearts Run Free but it seems bizarre now that this was the track of choice for our end-of-term merriment. As I’ve said before however, I really don’t think we took too much heed of the lyrics at that age – I’d not had any big romances yet and all the mums and dads I knew seemed to be quite happy (or perhaps I was too young and naïve to think otherwise). I loved Candi’s voice though, the song seemed to be aimed at my generation and it was perfect for the school disco.
Young Hearts Run Free by Candi Staton:
Something has only come to light in the last few years however – Whenever she was mentioned on the radio or on TOTP, she was always called Candi “Staton” (made to sound like Staten Island) but it turns out it should have been pronounced “State-en”. Poor lady had her name mispronounced in the UK for over 40 years, but hopefully now put right. Tony Blackburn in the clip was obviously one of the main culprits, but of course he was also the DJ who badly mispronounced “Duran Duran” during a chart rundown in the ’80s, so not surprising really. As it turns out, I only discovered after his death that I had always mispronounced “Bowie” (as in David), so not always easy to get it right. And as for “Bono” – He always ends up sounding like a well-known dog food!
Until next time…
Young Hearts Run Free Lyrics (Song by David Crawford)
What’s the sense in sharing this one and only life Ending up just another lost and lonely wife You count up the years and they will be filled with tears
Love only breaks up to start over again You’ll get the babies but you won’t have your man While he is busy loving every woman that he can
Say I’m gonna leave a hundred times a day It’s easier said than done When you just can’t break away
Young hearts, run free They’ll never be hung up, hung up like my man and me Young hearts, to yourself be true Don’t be no fool when Love really don’t love you
It’s high time now just one crack at life Who wants to live it in trouble and strife My mind must be free to learn all I can about me
I’m gonna love me for the rest of my days Encourage the babies every time they say Self preservation is what’s really going on today
Say I’m gonna turn loose hundred times a day How can I turn loose When I just can’t break away
A few weeks ago, I threw down the gauntlet and asked followers to come up with ideas for future posts. Whenever I’ve done this in the past it’s been quite easy to come up with something reasonably entertaining, as a fairly mainstream song has been suggested. This time…., not quite so easy. This third reply post was always going to be tricky, as I hadn’t actually heard of the artist or song when it was first suggested by Mr Medd, whose Are We There Yet? blog is one I visit often. My proviso for this challenge was that I had to have heard of the artist, so by rights I could have wriggled out of it, but that would be a bit lame so here goes:
Woozy With Cider by James Yorkston:
Woozy With Cider was recorded by singer/songwriter James Yorkston in 2007. It’s a spoken word kind of affair and apparently falls into the electronic/folk rock camp. As I said above, both James and his “song” were new to me, so before hitting the keyboard I was going to have to do a bit of serious listening. Lots of imagery in this song but what comes across loud and clear is that Mr Yorkston is neither a fan of big cities nor city folk and their sometimes patronising attitude towards those of a more countrified nature. He kind of yearns to be back in the place he feels most comfortable, “a village the size of a teacup”. There has been a wedding though (oh no, another wedding post – I can’t get away from them), which is the reason for the trip to the big smoke, but it is now the day after where there is time for reflection, relaxation and just enough cider to cause a bit of “wooziness”.
I really liked this spoken word song right from the off, and I think I worked out why pretty early on. Once I’d done a bit of research into James Yorkston, I discovered he came from the Kingdom of Fife in Scotland, which is a peninsula situated between the Firth of Tay and Firth of Forth (and home to the ancient Pictish kings). He became part of something called the Fence Collective set up by Kenny Anderson (aka King Creosote) where a group of Fife-based musicians got together and released music on their own record label with little more than a CD burner and the use of a local bar’s unused “back room”.
Fence Records
James Yorkston
Looking at a map of Fife it looks remarkably like the Black Isle peninsula where I reside. From experience, these are beautiful places to live – Great scenery (water on three sides), picturesque villages, clean air and not too many people or cars. Like James, I would find life in a big city nowadays nigh impossible and find the best mix for me is kind of what is implied in the first line of the lyrics, “I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds”. It is now evening and the sound of the traffic has died down so the birds can be heard in equal measure. That’s my ideal – To be near enough civilisation to hear the sound of cars in the distance, but also to be able to hear the sound of birds (as I type I am listening to a hooting owl). It’s not for me the cacophony of city life with only the odd squawking seagull – I know where I’m supposed to “be” and like James Yorkston, I very fortuitously found it when I was relatively young, in my late twenties.
So, I only found out about James Yorkston when the suggestion for this post came in but since then I have been bombarded by references to Fife and Fence Records. There is a name for this phenomenon (more than just coincidence) which currently eludes me, but we all experience it from time to time – In our house, whenever it happens it’s always accompanied by a quick burst of the Twilight Zone music.
First of all, as per my previous post, we ended up having a spontaneous wee break last week in the city of Dundee, which is just on the other side of the Tay Bridge from Fife. It was a no brainer therefore that we would head across for a visit. By this time I knew all about the Fence Collective based in the East Neuk of Fife, so what better place to visit in order to get “woozy with cider”?
The East Neuk
Me getting woozy on cider!
Secondly, a couple of night’s ago I caught the final episode of the BBC2 documentary series Rip It Up which was ostensibly about how Scots have had to overcome obstacles, and blaze a trail, in order to make the music they love. This episode featured those independent labels such as Fence Records who decided to follow a different path and not head to London, but to remain in Scotland and be inspired by their surroundings – They would make music primarily for the love of it and not just to make lots of money. We even had a lengthy interview with Mr Yorkston (whom I warmed to greatly) and I’ll no doubt look out for him now that I know the background to his, and the Collective’s, aims.
Before I go, here is something I found when trying to find out a bit more about the man. It was from an interview he gave after having written his second book (yes it seems he’s multi-talented, also being an author – not jealous honest, grrr…).
Interviewer: James, what’s your guiltiest music pleasure?
James: I think I’ve grown out of that stuff now. When I was a kid, I was very much involved in genre, so I’d only like punk rock or dub reggae, say. Fortunately, as I’ve aged, I’ve thrown off such daft shackles and I no longer feel guilty about anything I like. I feel guiltier disliking things, especially if it’s music by people who I like as people. Guilty Music Displeasure, perhaps.
A great place to end, as since starting this blog I have had massive crises of confidence after writing about songs from my collection that others may well class as “a guilty pleasure”. I know everyone is usually very kind about it, but when James Yorkston also comes out and admits to now feeling more guilty about disliking music, I think I’m ok.
Until next time…
Woozy with Cider Lyrics
(Song by James Yorkston)
I watch the park quieten from the hotel window, I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds, For a city whose size had scared me for years right now it’s a feeble evening row, not un-similar to a beach evening ending. On the table to my left there’s a magazine with a picture of dead money, making a mockery of what I’d call art But what would I know about the scene in the city that has swallowed up friends lovers and family, Just give me a village the size of a teacup
You’re happier here spread out with your eyes closed, I feel I should order a drink in celebration to welcome the summer, whose first day is ending Should you wake you’d catch me of course and ask me the wisdom of drinking once more I cast my mind back to yesterdays wedding where we got drunk and fell over I did my best to be polite to a family I’d never met, but on numerous occasions, I guess, I could have tried harder Of course by the end of the night I was a best friend with everyone and every ones wife but right now I couldn’t remember their names no matter how hard I try
As the sun glares through the hotel window I wonder of our future and where it will lead to, I wonder if you’ll be laying there 10 years 20 years 30 years down the line I’ll still be staring out at the street confused about love and life, It’ll be interesting to see if anyone every bought those songs of mine if anyone heard those words that I never got quite right, I think I can be honest in presuming the world is not exactly going to be leaping out of its bed to make me rich using my songs in adverts selling oranges or lemons
Who knows I may end up owning the whole street, or more likely sleeping under tree in the park opposite Would the runners keep me awake or would I keep them asleep I’d hope I have the sense to move back home, as lovely as today is, I‘d imagine the winter would be rather cold
I’d been told for years that the devil had the best tunes and that the devil lived down here whereas us country folk weren’t worth the salt from the road Ex pat magazine editors who choose to loose their temper on the easily persuaded northern town dwellers And sure enough 99 percent of the people I meet have scant regard for entertaining me, it seems I’m too old too slow too quiet and just wrong And I’m glad. In their cocaine fuelled electronic cabarets I’ll be the man at the bar drinking overpriced whiskey from a bar maid who’s too good to catch my eye She only works here two nights a week, the rest of the time she’s a singer in a rock and roll band I bet she’d change her tune if I told her my album had peaked at number 172 and that I also had friends who worked in bars and that didn’t define who they are Though it certainly helps their capacity to drink.
But I’ve strayed off the subject Now I’ll be leaning over and waking you up, and you’ll squint at me through the cracks between your eyelids, woozy with cider As if you’re asking exactly where we are and exactly what I wanted. And I’ll be happy because we won’t be taking anything too seriously.
Well, I have a feeling this is going to be another one of my travelogue style posts but there will be a musical connection by the time I get to the end of it, I promise.
First of all, a word to the wise – If your other half decides to do a bit of browsing on your computer, forewarn them you might have set up a faster payment method on some sites, otherwise you could end up seriously out of pocket. This happened to me a fortnight ago. We didn’t really have any holiday plans for this summer, but I had mentioned I would quite like to visit the Scottish city of Dundee at some point as with the new V&A about to open, along with all the other established attractions, it does seem to be a city on the up. So, whilst I was busy watching some very worthy television (not Love Island, honest…), unbeknownst to me Mr WIAA started to scour Airbnb for accommodation in Dundee. He liked the look of one particular apartment in a converted grand old house on the Perth Road, and tested the booking system to find out its availability. Quick as a flash they came back and said yes, it was available the following week, and the payment promptly came off my account.
It was at this point he decided (very sheepishly) to tell me what he had done – “A lavish apartment…, in Dundee…, next week…,” said I, dubiously. In a former life this would have been a lovely idea, but with a business we run from home and an elderly parent to look after, not easy nowadays to take off on spontaneous jaunts. “But it’s ok”, he said, “you can ask for a refund within 48 hours if you change your mind.” Turns out you only get a refund if the trip is at least 14 days away – Looked as if we were heading to Dundee!
Suffice to say, we quickly got everything organised and had a lovely five days last week in that city famous for it’s Jam, Jute and Journalism. Despite being Scottish I had never really visited Dundee properly before, having just passed through or dropped in for a work-related meeting or course, so it turned out to be a really great trip. Like most urban areas with an industrial past, it’s inner city has seen better and more vibrant days, but it’s a city that is reinventing itself with technology parks (home to the computer games industry), visitor attractions (Captain Scott’s Discovery), arts venues (Dundee Rep, the new V&A) and education (it has two universities and many colleges) now the main source of revenue.
RRS Discovery berthed in Dundee
For me however, Dundee will always be synonymous with DC Thomson, that long-established publisher responsible for supplying our house with newspapers and magazines when I was growing up. Most homes like mine would have got the Sunday Post (complete with the Oor Wullie and Broons comic strips) and my mum also subscribed to the People’s Friend (the oldest women’s weekly in the world). I could look forward to The Bunty as a pre-teen, and then best of all, Jackie Magazine (link to a previous post) as a teenager. Had I been a boy I would have no doubt relished the antics of Dennis the Menace in The Beano and Desperate Dan in The Dandy but as a bit of a “girly girl” I preferred The Bunty, because of the dressing doll that came on the back page every week. I saw yesterday that The Beano was celebrating it’s 60th birthday and possibly because of that there is currently a big exhibition in Dundee’s very central Art Gallery and Museum, The McManus (aptly renamed The McMenace for the duration).
Beano merchandise
Who ate all the cow pies?
Oor Wullie and his bucket
But this is supposed to be a music blog and when in Dundee I of course thought of all the bands of my youth who came from there. A couple of summer’s ago I wrote a series of posts focusing on the sheer number of great bands who came out of Scotland in the late ’80s. One was Deacon Blue (my sister-in-law went to school with Ricky Ross) and another Danny Wilson (click links to those posts), both bands from Dundee. As they have featured here previously however, I won’t look to them for this post’s song choice – No, the artist who came to mind was the unforgettable Billy MacKenzie of the Associates whose Party Fears Two reached No. 9 in the UK Singles Chart in 1982.
Billy had a distinctive high tenor voice and dressed like a member of the French Resistance (or Frank Spencer depending on your take) so was memorable in the annals of pop, but like so many around him he died young, after committing suicide in 1997 at the age of 39. I always knew Billy was born and brought up in Dundee, but didn’t realise that he had decamped first to New Zealand at the age of 16 and then to America at 17. Billy got married to his aunt’s sister-in-law whilst over there in order to stave off deportation, but returned home after 3 months of marriage, never to see his bride again. It was then that he met Alan Rankine and the pair went on to form the Associates.
Party Fears Two by the Associates:
It’s certainly a strange title for a song and tricky to understand the lyrics other than that a party is involved. Billy did explain the origin however, “My wee brother was at a party watching two girls who wanted to come in. They were smashing windows and attempting to kick the door in with their stiletto heels, which he admired, so he christened them the Party Fears Two and I pinched the title from him.”
Hmm…, that doesn’t say a lot for the calibre of young lady who would have been attending parties in Dundee in the late ’70s/early ’80s, but here’s the thing, parties amongst young people in those days were not soirees involving sociable chit chat and fine wines, it was simply that someone had a venue, and others found out about it. The Scottish stand-up comedian Kevin Bridges sums up nicely the difference between the parties held in American teen movies and the parties the youth of Scotland were more familiar with, and if you watch this clip you’ll probably get a better idea of the “Party Fears Two”. They are probably middle-aged ladies now – I wonder if they ever found out the song was about them?
So, “What’s It All About?” – Sometimes the best trips are the spontaneous ones that come along without much pre-planning or thought. My trip to Dundee was one of those and I have another couple of posts up my sleeve inspired by the place. The V&A Dundee is to open on the 15th September and they obviously expect lots of visitors as many hotels are springing up in the vicinity. The very modern railway station is also situated just across the road. After never having been to Dundee as a tourist before, it seems I might well end up visiting twice this year – To be thoroughly recommended.
Until next time…
Party Fears Two Lyrics (Song by Billy MacKenzie/Alan Rankine)
I’ll have a shower and then phone my brother up Within the hour I’ll smash another cup Please don’t start saying that or I’ll start believing you If I start believing you I’ll know that this party fears two
And what if this party fears two? The alcohol loves you while turning you blue View it from here from closer to near Awake me
Don’t turn around I won’t have to look at you And what’s not found is all that I see in you My manners are failing me I’m left feeling ugly And you say it’s wonderful to live with I never will
So what if this party fears two? The alcohol loves you while turning you blue View it from here from closer to near Awake me
I’m standing still and you say I dress to well Still standing still I might but it’s hard to tell Even a slight remark makes nonsense and turns to shark Have I done something wrong? What wrongs the wrong that’s always in wrong
I’ll have a shower And then phone my brother up Within the hour I’ll smash another cup
Postscript:
One last picture from the exhibition at the McManus – Book titles courtesy of The Bash Street Kids. Every one a winner!
Since 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 have written about each one as they appear in our skies. To accompany the post I always include one of the numerous songs that have been written about the moon and its many foibles.
Well, this is a first for me, I’m writing a blog post whilst actually on holiday (more of that next week) but as a full moon is due to appear in our skies on Friday it can’t really wait until I get home. This month it’s called the Buck Moon, because it’s the time of year we all run around our gardens buck naked! No…., only joking…., although probably warm enough if you feel so inclined but it got that name because it’s when a buck’s antlers are in full “growth mode”. As someone who lives next to a forest full of deer who come down into our gardens at night and occasionally eat all the plants, I should be an expert, but here’s the thing – In the 20 years we’ve lived beside the forest I’ve never seen one, just the little hoof prints left as evidence in the flower beds the next morning. One of these days however I will be lucky enough to catch one in the act which really would be quite something, and well worth the sacrifice of a few plants.
The Buck Moon
The forest behind my house at sunset
Another reason for the early alert is because this next full moon will also be a blood moon. Yes, for the second time this year there is going to be a lunar eclipse and in certain parts of the world the moon will turn a red-orange colour for a full 1 hour 43 minutes (I am reliably informed). Yet again however, we here in the UK are unlikely to see it in totality, but if you look south-easterly from around 8.45pm (a bit later if like me you live in Scotland), there should be a definite reddish tinge to the moon.
Mike Oldfield
But this is a music blog so which song should accompany this particular moon-related post? Last time we had a lunar eclipse I chose Moonshadow by Cat Stevens but as was pointed out at the time I could also have used Moonlight Shadow by Mike (Tubular Bells) Oldfield. I have always liked this 1983 song, not least because it gallops along at a fair old rate, rising and falling in exactly the places you expect it to, the vocals excellently performed by Maggie Reilly who frequently collaborated with Mike. The subject matter is not a happy one however, the song being about a woman whose lover is violently killed in the middle of the night. There was speculation at the time that Mike was referring to the shooting of John Lennon in the lyrics but he said no, although he had been in the vicinity at the time so it may well have entered his subconscious.
Moonlight Shadow by Mike Oldfield featuring Maggie Reilly:
All this talk of moonlight, shadows and deer however has reminded me of something. Like most parents, I read to DD every night at bedtime for many, many years and needless to say we had our favourite books. I suppose it makes sense, but quite a few of our favourites were set during the night-time. There was Owl Babies by Martin Waddell and Shadow the Deer by Theresa Radcliffe and John Butler. I can’t quite remember now if Shadow did indeed visit suburban gardens and eat all their plants (probably not), but I do remember that the illustrations were beautiful, full of forest locations basking in the moonlight.
I am hopeful we in the UK will catch a glimpse of the lunar eclipse on Friday, the proviso always being that there is no cloud cover. And, as it is the buck moon, a bit of running around buck naked wouldn’t go amiss either, although if we did partake there might well be a few bemused deer looking on, from the safety of their forest high up on the hill!
Only three more moons in this series to go before we will have covered all twelve named by the Native Americans, eons ago. I’m pretty sure I know which “moon songs” I still want to include but if you have any favourites not yet mentioned, please let me know as I feel sure there will have to be a “mopping-up” post done right at the end. You know where the comments boxes are.
Until next time, enjoy that lunar eclipse.
Moonlight Shadow Lyrics (Song by Mike Oldfield)
The last time ever she saw him Carried away by a moonlight shadow He passed on worried and warning Carried away by a moonlight shadow. Lost in a riddle that Saturday night Far away on the other side. He was caught in the middle of a desperate fight And she couldn’t find how to push through
The trees that whisper in the evening Carried away by a moonlight shadow Sing a song of sorrow and grieving Carried away by a moonlight shadow All she saw was a silhouette of a gun Far away on the other side. He was shot six times by a man on the run And she couldn’t find how to push through
I stay, I pray See you in Heaven far away… I stay, I pray See you in Heaven one day.
Four A.M. in the morning Carried away by a moonlight shadow I watched your vision forming Carried away by a moonlight shadow A star was glowing in the silvery night Far away on the other side Will you come to talk to me this night But she couldn’t find how to push through
I stay, I pray See you in Heaven far away… I stay, I pray See you in Heaven one day.
Far away on the other side. Caught in the middle of a hundred and five The night was heavy and the air was alive But she couldn’t find how to push through Carried away by a moonlight shadow Carried away by a moonlight shadow Far away on the other side.
Postscript:
Well that was a bit of a damp squib wasn’t it. After weeks of sunshine and clear skies, here in the UK there was almost total cloud cover and a fair few thunderstorms on Friday night, so few, if any of us, got to see the lunar eclipse. Thankfully there were plenty of people out with their camera equipment taking shots of the moon globally, so at least we get a chance to see what it would have looked like if the rain gods hadn’t frowned upon us.
Around the world in pictures, courtesy of The Guardian.
Ironically the alternative name for this July full moon is the Thunder Moon as it tends to be the time of the year when thunderstorms are frequent. Didn’t let us down did it?
Just over a month ago I wrote seven posts in seven days, and it was actually remarkably easy. Now that I’m back to one post per week, it’s somehow become a bit more difficult. Partly down to the fine weather and the fact Mr WIAA is on holiday from his paid employment (as opposed to the wonderful world of self-employment which must still continue over the summer months), but mainly because there seems to be just so much going on at the moment, both in the wider world and domestically. Every time I think I have an idea for the following week’s post, and start working on it, by the time I’ve gathered my thoughts we’ve moved on to something else.
Melania – “How did I get here?”
Since pressing the publish button last week we’ve had two high profile resignations from the cabinet, our government seems to be in total disarray with regards to what our future relationship with Europe will be and the POTUS and FLOTUS flew across for a visit. As expected the POTUS made a few monumental gaffes, whilst the ever-elegant FLOTUS just looks like a trophy wife who still can’t quite believe what has happened to her.
On a happier note we saw the miraculous rescue of 12 Thai boys and their football coach from flooded underground caves. I am in awe of what the divers went through in order to facilitate that rescue. Sporting-wise, we’ve had the closing stages of the World Cup where England nearly made it to the final, but fell at the hands of Croatia, a country with a population of 4 million. The Men’s Wimbledon Final took place on Sunday where the Serbian with the haircut that never changes recaptured his tennis mojo, and took the big prize.
In the more frivolous sections of the media we found out lots about the goings on in the Love Island villa (they do like to “crack on”, discuss their “connections” and parade around in barely there swimsuits). It also seems that the youngest of the Kardashian clan, aged only 20, is likely to become a billionaire in the very near future courtesy of a make-up range that the Love Island girls would no doubt approve of – Lots of products aimed at plumping the lips to cartoonish proportions.
So, that’s the wider world taken care of in three paragraphs, what’s been happening domestically? Well, DD has landed herself a new job which she is really pleased about and with Mr WIAA on holiday, we finally got the bit between our teeth and started doing all those jobs round the house that have been staring us down for months. Sadly there is nothing more likely to cause marital strife in our house than a spot of DIY, so needless to say tempers are frayed. Much moving around of furniture has had to be done, but if punctuated by frequent stops for a cuppa, it’s all bearable. Cue Bernard Cribbins and that great wee ditty from the early ’60s, Right Said Fred.
Today I finally finished “the kitchen project” which started a long, long… six months ago. The reliable, skilled tradespersons we had always hoped to commandeer never materialised, so a lesser tradesperson called Alyson did the lion’s share of the tiling, decorating and up-cycling of furniture. Back in January it only took 8 days to rip out the old kitchen and install a new one, complete with appliances, but it’s just taken me 14 days to sand down the old table and chairs, then re-varnish and paint them in another colour. Blame all the false starts for the length of time taken, but now that it’s finished, I’m really chuffed with myself.
Finally finished!
One condition I have when decorating is that Mr WIAA does all the cleaning of brushes, especially if white spirit is involved. Such a messy business and really hard nowadays to dispose of all that cloudy solvent when you’re finished. Other than that however I am more than happy to spend my days up a stepladder, or crouched at skirting board level, transforming tired rooms into freshly painted ones. The best bit about decorating is being able to listen to the radio, totally guilt-free, for hours on end. I say guilt-free because I am incapable of doing anything that requires any modicum of concentration (computer stuff generally) and listen to the radio at the same time, so I have to limit my listening pleasure.
The kind of mainstream stations I tend to listen to don’t often play songs I’m unfamiliar with, but every now and again they surprise me, and this week I have a few new songs to add to the ever-growing database that constitutes the tracks of my years. This next song, like Right Said Fred, is from the early ’60s but a very different animal indeed. I don’t know if this is unusual for someone of my vintage but I was unaware of American artist Nancy Wilson until this week. Once I got past the idea that she sounded a little like our own Shirley Bassey I really warmed to her, and loved this little gem of a song that popped up on one of the radio playlists. Yes, it gets the prize for earworm of the week, and you don’t know, you don’t know, you don’t know, you don’t know… how glad I am, about that.
(You Don’t Know) How Glad I Am by Nancy Wilson:
(You Don’t Know) How Glad I Am was a hit in the US for Nancy Wilson in the summer of 1964. It also received the Grammy Award in the R&B category the following year. Someone I had been unaware of until this week but someone I might like to investigate a little further once some semblance of a normal routine returns.
Hopefully by next week it’ll be back to business as usual but not always easy at this time of year to keep the pot boiling as my mum would say. I still have another post idea to tackle as a result of having thrown down the gauntlet a few weeks ago. Not going to be easy however, so to the person who suggested it, still on the back burner at the moment but will definitely appear in due course. In the meantime I’ll just “crack on” (as the Love Islanders would say) with all these decorating jobs and if it looks as if tempers are starting to fray, I’ll take advice from good old Bernard Cribbins and ‘ave a cuppa tea. Unlike Nancy Wilson, I don’t think my love (for Mr WIAA) at the moment has no beginning, end, front or back but fortunately it’s all just temporary!
Until next time….
(You Don’t Know) How Glad I Am Lyrics (Song by Jimmy Williams/Larry Harrison)
My love has no beginning, my love has no end No front or back and my love won’t bend I’m in the middle, lost in a spin loving you And you don’t know, you don’t know You don’t know, you don’t know how glad I am
My love has no bottom, my love has no top My love won’t rise and my love won’t drop I’m in the middle and I can’t stop loving you And you don’t know, you don’t know You don’t know, you don’t know how glad I am
I wish I were a poet so I could express What I’d, what I’d like to say yeah I wish I were an artist so I could paint a picture Of how I feel, of how I feel today
My love has no walls on either side That makes my love wider than wide I’m in the middle and I can’t hide loving you
And you don’t know, you don’t know You don’t know, you don’t know how glad I am
Tuesday seems to have become my default day for posting something new, however with all this fine weather I haven’t been spending much time on the computer, or pondering blog ideas. Hmm…
Time to resort to the dash cam!
Last Saturday Mr WIAA and myself headed down the A9 to The Cairngorms as only 45 minutes from home and a great place to visit on a beautiful sunny day. Yes – unbelievably – Scotland is also experiencing this very uncharacteristic heatwave that seems to be sweeping the country. The film I took was hard won I can tell you, as every few minutes the device over-heated and had to be slotted into the car’s air-conditioning vent to cool down. I have however managed to piece together the following and when asked what music might be appropriate for it, Mr WIAA suggested In A Big Country by who else but Big Country.
In A Big Country by Big Country:
Big Country formed in Dunfermline in 1981 and had their heyday in the mid ’80s. The band had a very distinctive music style which involved engineering their guitar sound to evoke the spirit of bagpipes, fiddles and other traditional folk instruments. In A Big Country was released in May 1983 as the third single from their debut studio album “The Crossing”, and reached No. 17 in the UK Singles Chart. The album was a hit in the United States which is how my friend Rich from Kamer Tunes Blog must have come to know about them and how they became his favourite band during his high school years (I know this because he has mentioned it often). He is on hiatus at the moment but because of his great affinity with Scotland, here are a few more pictures taken whilst out and about recently, just in case he drops by.
It actually rained today, for the first time in about five weeks. Can it really carry on like this for much longer? Who knows, but with all the political shenanigans going on right now, it’s nice to be able to just chill out under the shade of a tree. Scotland may not in reality be a “big” country, in fact it’s really quite small, but it has a big heart which was what those boys from Big Country capitalised on back in the ’80s.
Until next time enjoy the sunshine, and remember that even in Scotland, we still need to wear sunscreen. I can’t turn the clock back and tell my teenage self of the dangers of too much sun (let’s face it we all got burnt every single year) but a bit older and wiser now fortunately. Cross fingers it’s shaping up to be another Summer of ’76!
In A Big Country Lyrics (Song by Stuart Adamson/Mark Brzezicki/Tony Butler/Bruce Watson)
I’ve never seen you look like this without a reason Another promise fallen through, another season passes by you I never took the smile away from anybody’s face And that’s a desperate way to look for someone who is still a child
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered But you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered I’m not expecting to grow flowers in a desert But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
So take that look out of here, it doesn’t fit you Because it’s happened doesn’t mean you’ve been discarded Pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered But you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered
I’m not expecting to grow flowers in a desert But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
In a big country, dreams stay with you Like a lover’s voice fires the mountainside Stay alive
Postscript:
It may be a small country but Scotland extends a bit wider in all directions courtesy of the many islands off its coasts. One of these is South Uist, the second largest island of the Outer Hebrides, and I couldn’t help but gasp in wonder at the pictures shared recently by a friend after a visit. She grew up there and those beaches used to be her childhood playground. Spectacular, and barely a soul in sight.
What's It All About? 