Alyson

Butch Cassidy, Burt Bacharach and “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head”

When is a song not a song? Why of course when it’s one of those pad a dap a dapadda, doob be doobee doop, pum… pum… pum… padadappada “a cappella-type” numbers performed by vocal harmony groups. I read a review this week for the 1969 film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and immediately had those scenes in my head where Butch and Sundance are being chased down by the posse, led by white-hatted Lefors (“Who are those guys?”). It becomes clear they have to flee, and so they head to Bolivia with Sundance’s schoolteacher lover, in search of a more successful criminal career. Throughout the movie we are treated to Burt Bacharach’s amazing soundtrack, and when they hit Bolivia, it is the perfect cue for South American Getaway.

South American Getaway by Burt Bacharach:

Now I had always thought that this part of the soundtrack was by The Swingle Singers, that a cappella group that seemed to pop up with great regularity on Saturday night telly in the 1970s, but no, South American Getaway was by the Ron Hicklin Singers, a group of Los Angeles-based studio singers. They are most famously known as being the real backing singers behind The Partridge Family recordings but also worked on The Good, the Bad and the Ugly theme, MacArthur Park and Suicide Is Painless (the theme to the film M*A*S*H). They were the vocal equivalent of (and often worked with) The Wrecking Crew, that bunch of top session musicians who played on many ’60s and ’70s records. They were the house band for Phil Spector but also worked with Sonny & Cher, The Beach Boys, The Mamas & the Papas, Frank Sinatra and even Elvis. Getting back to the Ron Hicklin Singers, Ron himself was lead tenor but there was also an alto, a soprano, a bass and a couple of brothers called Bahler, who performed tenor harmonies on South American Getaway.

I was too young to have seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid at the cinema in 1969 so would only have seen it a few years later on television, but what an impact it made. The two lead actors, Paul Newman and Robert Redford had amazing on-screen chemistry and for me, it marked the start of a major crush on both of them. In 1974 Paul Newman starred in The Towering Inferno, one of the many disaster movies around at that time and fortunately I was now old enough to see it at the cinema. The blue-eyed Mr Newman was actually five years older than my dad by that time which seems kind of creepy now but with film stars the whole age thing never seems to matter and even today stars like Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp, who are positively middle-aged, are adored by legions of young female fans around the world.

Around this time it was deemed that my childhood bedroom was in need of redecoration and I was given carte blanche on what the new scheme should be. (Bear with me here, there is a reason for this bit of sidestepping.) Down came the ’60s style wallpaper and the posters of Donny Osmond, David Cassidy and Bjorn Borg and up went woodchip wallpaper, which could be painted any colour I wanted. After pouring over paint charts for some time I went for an attractive mustard colour which would, I thought, look good with my new brown and orange curtains – Of course paint charts can be notoriously misleading and once my dad had finished the room it was most definitely a khaki green colour as opposed to mustard but hey, I was happy, it being so modern with the woodchip an’ all.

colour schemes.png

One of the house rules for this newly decorated bedroom was that there were to be fewer posters and certainly none attached with drawing pins – Instead I could use that new-fangled stuff called blu-tack. And so it came to pass that a giant poster of Paul Newman was purchased and a slightly smaller one of Robert Redford to feature on the newly painted khaki green walls – I honestly think they remained there until I left home about four years later so I obviously stayed true to this pair for a sizeable chunk of my teenage years.

Because I usually end a post with lyrics, which is not really possible with South American Getaway, I will also include a clip of the most familiar piece of music from that film’s soundtrack, Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head. Again this was a Bacharach composition and I always knew that the person singing it in the film was BJ Thomas but of course in the UK at the start of 1970, it was that dashing Frenchman Sacha Distel who got to No. 10 in the singles chart with the song.

Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head by BJ Thomas:

It’s a bizarre kind of song to have inserted into a film about “The Wild West” but somehow it just works. This was a film all about the relationship between Butch, Sundance and Katharine Ross’s character Etta Place. Despite the desperately sad ending, there were just so many comedic moments and this scene on the bicycle kind of sums it up for me. Over the years I have tried to put together the recipe for a “perfect day” and a lot of the ingedients are contained within the video for this song:

It’s got to be a sunny day and if dappled sunlight is present (like here) even better.
Got to be with good friends you can truly relax with and be yourself.
Got to be wearing possibly quirky, but definitely comfy, casual clothes.
Important that there is no timetable or agenda for the day so that you can just go with the flow.
Not got to be a costly day but to be full of simple pleasures.
Get to go home to your own bed at night!

Not for everyone I know but works for me and watching this scene from the film again, I just love how Butch and Etta have that easy relaxed friendship, riding around in dappled sunlight, picking apples from the tree. Very late ’60s indeed and oh to have been Miss Ross on that very special day – Stepford was still many years in the future so for the time-being, until the going got a bit tough down Bolivia-way, she could enjoy being part of one of the most famous trios in film history.

Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head Lyrics
(Song by Burt Bacharach/Hal David)

Raindrops are falling on my head
And just like the guy whose feet
Are too big for his bed
Nothing seems to fit
Those raindrops
Are falling on my head
They keep falling

So I just did me some
Talking to the sun
And I said I didn’t like the way
He got things done
Sleeping on the job
Those raindrops
Are falling on my head
They keep fallin’

But there’s one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me
Won’t defeat me, it won’t be long
Till happiness
Steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn’t mean my eyes
Will soon be turning red
Crying’s not for me ’cause,
I’m never gonna stop the rain
By complaining,
Because I’m free
Nothing’s worrying me

It won’t be long
Till happiness
Steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn’t mean my eyes
Will soon be turning red
Crying’s not for me cause,
I’m never gonna stop the rain
By complaining,
Because I’m free, ’cause nothing’s worrying me

Pop Quizzes, George Michael and “Freedom”

Ok so I may have built up this story a bit too much, but here goes.

At the end of 1984 I had just completed another set of very taxing exams (literally, as accountancy ones this time) and considering I had been doing this for nearly nine years now I decided I’d had enough. As I was living in Aberdeen at the time, the Oil Capital of Europe, work was plentiful so I decided a belated gap year was needed and off I went to register with the various recruitment agencies in order to pick up some temping work. With the recent drop in the oil price things are not as buoyant nowadays, but back then jobs were aplenty, and so it came to pass that at the start of 1985 I joined the ranks of one of the big five Oil Companies that had a headquarters in Aberdeen.

There is an irony to this situation however as there had always been a bit of a divide between the Town, Gown (quite a sizeable population) and Oil communities and as part of the gown and then the town community (working in the public sector), my friends and I had always tended to snigger at all those glamorous “oil secretaries” who earned copious amounts of money for (we thought) not doing very much and who drove around in their rich boyfriends’ sports cars. We tended to stick to the bars of our student days, and our student uniforms of jeans and T-shirt.

The irony here is that in 1985 I morphed into an “oil secretary” (I wasn’t actually a secretary and would have been a rubbish one at that, but you know what I mean) – I think we all have a tendency, like animals in nature, to adapt to our surroundings and that’s exactly what happened. Big hair and white high heels anyone? – Yes please. After years of being a bit dismissive of the breed it turned out to be a fine life. The average age of our small department was 28 and although I hate to admit it, I think the “secretaries” were hired mainly as eye-candy as you didn’t really get many what you could call plain girls in that world. Anyway, fighting against my feminist principles, I totally got on board with the whole thing and soon became the person who organised all the social events for the department.

dynasty — The cast of Dynasty with Crystal Carrington ex-stenographer!

I had been there for around six months when word got out that there was to be an Inter-Oil Company Pop Quiz which would be hosted by local Breakfast DJ Nicky Campbell in one of the city’s big nightspots. Now regular readers of this blog will know that this would be right up my street – I had recorded the Top 20 in notebooks since the age of thirteen and watched TOTP since I was a child. I was a bit rusty, but if I purchased the latest Guinness Book of Hit Singles, and memorised it, the whole thing should be a dawdle. As for the memorising of the Guinness Book of Hit Singles, not as difficult as you would think as this was the 1984 version and there had only been a chart since 1952 and back then there was only a Top 12. I remembered most of the music from the late ‘60s and all of the ‘70s anyway so it was just a case of brushing up on the ‘50s and some of the more recent stuff I was not so familiar with. And so I spent the next few weeks surreptitiously working my way through this tome, whilst at work, in between doing what I was paid to do. The pride of our department was at stake after all so none of our bosses, still in their twenties, were too bothered.

Step one was to enter a team from our department into the heats to determine who would represent our company at the main event – Tick. I was pretty confident we would do well but needed two others to make up the team so I recruited a couple of my fellow “secretary” friends to join me, lets call them Julie and Amanda (!?). I was aware their knowledge was a bit scant but really, like George Michael needed Andrew Ridgeley for support, I needed Julie and Amanda.

The heat took place on a Friday evening straight after work in the very lavish company sports and social club (no expense was spared in those days). By this time I had realised that the lads from The Print Room were the ones to beat – They were weekend DJs, played in bands and were very “cool” so when they heard that a team of blonde, high-heeled secretaries had entered it was all a bit of a joke. But hey I was having a year off studying, was afflicted with having a photographic memory for all this kind of stuff and if you get your timing right you can peak at just the right time then promptly forget it all again! (When I say affliction, it kind of is, because you end up getting better results than you perhaps deserve compared to more able students, as for some exams rote learning is all that is required).

Anyway, the upshot was that the in-house Pop Quiz to determine who would represent the company got underway. Waiting for our turn in the hot seat I was quietly confident, as most of the questions were relatively easy. Gradually we got through the stages as one by one departmental teams were eliminated. Then it came to the final round and yes you’ve guessed it, it was us against the cool dudes from The Print Room. The various rounds progressed, some individual questions, some quick-fire and a “name that tune” round complete with audio (not easy in those less technologically advanced days). My fellow team mates had upped their game as well, and were doing a sterling job.

By this time I could see that the lads were rattled – “How can this be happening to us”, I imagined them thinking. They were looking pale and sweat was glistening on their top lips. I can still remember the final three questions that clinched it for us:

1910 Fruitgum Company

Izhar Cohen & Teh Alphabeta

Who had a hit with “Simon Says” in 1968? – Easy, The 1910 Fruitgum Co. (but not easy to find in an alphabetical list of artists).
Which band won the Eurovision Song Contest with A-Ba-Ni-Bi? – As a life-long fan of the contest that was also an easy one, it was Izhar Cohen and the Apha-Beta.
And here is where I was just so proud of my team-mate “Julie” – A gorgeous girl who I am still in touch with today. The final question was a lyrics one and anyone following this blog will know that there lies my weakness. I don’t know what I’ve been doing all my life but it doesn’t seem to have been listening to lyrics properly! We were given a line from a recent song that had been a chart hit and although it meant nothing to me, it did to “Julie”, a big fan of Wham!. Yes the winning points came from her knowledge of the lyrics to Freedom, which had reached No. 1 in the charts the previous year.

So there we had it, the “secretaries” had won the quiz and would represent the company at the main event. The lads from The Print Room were furious although when you think of it, if they were as cool as they thought they were, they should have been pleased that they didn’t know about The 1910 Fruitgum Co., Eurovision and the complete works of George Michael, but it was the principle I think.

wham

Yet again I have overrun on words so I will leave the story there for the moment and come back to it another day. I think the featured song for today however will have to be Freedom from 1984, a fun and camp record with apparently Abba-style cord changes. Every day’s a school day.

Freedom by Wham!:

I should also point out here that all my preconceptions about “oil secretaries” turned out to be unfounded as they were generally very smart girls who just happened to be very good-looking as well – The earlier dismissiveness was of course down to jealously, that ugly emotion that hits us all at certain times in our lives. Happy days and as I said before, I’m still in touch with some of the “team” today. A second bit of irony is that the song chosen here should be called Freedom as that was the year I split up with my long-term student boyfriend – George Michael didn’t want his freedom, but suddenly I did, and I think a lot of it was down to my short-lived time in the oil business!

Freedom Lyrics
(Song by Simon Law/Caron Wheeler/Beresford Romeo/George Michael)

Everyday I hear a different story,
People saying that you’re no good for me,
“Saw your lover with another and she’s making a fool of you”

If you loved me baby you’d deny it,
But you laugh and tell me I should try it,
Tell me I’m a baby, and I don’t understand

But you know that I’ll forgive you,
Just this once, twice, forever,
‘Cause baby, you could drag me to hell and back,
Just as long as we’re together.
And you do

I don’t want your freedom,
I don’t want to play around,
I don’t want nobody baby,
Part time love just brings me down.
I don’t want your freedom,
Girl, all I want right now is you.

Like a prisoner who has his own key
But I can’t escape until you love me
I just go from day to day knowing all about the other boys
You take my hand and tell me I’m a fool to give you all that I do
I bet you someday baby someone says the same to you
But you know that I’ll forgive you
Just this once twice forever
’cause baby, you could drag me to hell and back
Just as long as we’re together
And you do

The Proclaimers, “Letter From America” and Sunshine on Leith (the movie)

Last night we watched the film of the stage show Sunshine on Leith on DVD – Not as good as when viewed at the cinema but still really enjoyed all that great music from The Proclaimers. I think the popularity of the jukebox musical really hit new heights when Mama Mia!, featuring the songs of Abba hit the West End stage in 1999 so it was inevitable that such productions would become a staple of theatreland. The music of many an artist has now been set to scripts capable of stringing together, in an entertaining fashion, the various back catalogues.

Sunshine on Leith was originally written for Dundee Rep in 2007 and I remember going to see it when it came to the Highlands soon after. Unlike Mama Mia!, it was not set in a sunny location but in an often wet and drizzly Edinburgh. The film didn’t have A-list Hollywood stars in it either but it did have heart, and some very acceptable singing voices. One of the main stars of the film was actually Edinburgh itself and they managed to cram in as many great locations as possible. (If you know the city well you do ask yourself, “Why would they use that particular route to get from Leith to Waverley” but of course it was obvious why.)

I have mentioned Sunshine on Leith before in the blog when I wrote about the song of the same name (can be found here) and how it has been adopted by Hibs fans as their anthem. Having possibly heard that song just once too often now, the one that made more of an impact when watching the film last night, was Letter From America.

Letter From America by The Proclaimers:

Any regulars to this blog will know that we have a close family member far from home at the moment, in the great state of Illinois, birthplace of Abe Lincoln but also Ferris Beuller and Wayne from Wayne’s World! A very relevant song therefore, but as it turns out, letters are more likely to be substituted by Facetime (a lot of Facetime) nowadays so compared with the Scots in the song, the America we travel to now doesn’t seem nearly as far away. The scriptwriters for the show manage to (tenuously) incorporate the song by having one of the main characters, a nurse, get a job in a Miami hospital via an online recruitment site.

emigration

Very different to the stories that led the folks in the song to America, and quite rightly it is very hard “to imagine the way they felt the day they sailed from Wester Ross to Nova Scotia” as for many, they would probably never see home again. Even in my own family, emigration to America at the turn of the 20th century was prolific. My grandfather was brought up by his grandparents as his father went across first (a result of a lack of employment in the area) and then his mother joined him later. I would imagine the plan was to come back for my grandfather at some point, but possibly for economic reasons that didn’t happen, and they never saw each other again – Seems sad nowadays considering how small the world can be for us now but I cannot emphasise enough how it would not have seemed that way in the late 1800s. My grandfather didn’t ever make the big journey across the pond but had a fine life in rural Scotland as part of a large family and had the distinction of driving/handling/operating (not sure what you call it) the first combine harvester in the North-East. Yes the crowds came out in droves that day to see it in action, and now in the local archives.

proclaimers

As for The Proclaimers, they were actually “discovered” by one of hubby’s boyhood friends, as they used to travel north to play in a local bar. The friend, already in the music business himself, wrote (no Facetime in those days) to The Housemartins suggesting they use them as the support act for their 1986 tour – They did, and the rest as they say is history. I actually saw them on that tour, and although we had predominantly gone along to see The Housemartins, we were pretty much bowled over by the very distinctive, bespectacled Reid twins from Auchtermuchty.

As for me, after watching the film again last night I have added “be part of a flash mob” to my bucket list. Not managed so far but that massed “mob” dance, right in the centre of Edinburgh’s Princes Street, looked like great fun – Wish I’d been on the top deck of the No. 17 bus the day they were filming that one!

Letter From America Lyrics
(Song by Craig Reid/Charlie Reid)

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada
Broke off from my work the other day
I spent the evening thinking about
All the blood that flowed away
Across the ocean to the second chance
I wonder how it got on when it reached the promised land?

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada

I’ve looked at the ocean
Tried hard to imagine
The way you felt the day you sailed
From Wester Ross to Nova Scotia
We should have held you
We should have told you
But you know our sense of timing
We always wait too long

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada

Lochaber no more
Sutherland no more
Lewis no more
Skye no more

I wonder my blood
Will you ever return
To help us kick the life back
To a dying mutual friend
Do we not love her?
I think we all claim we love her
Do we have to roam the world
To prove how much it hurts?

When you go will you send back
A letter from America?
Take a look up the railtrack
From Miami to Canada

Bathgate no more
Linwood no more
Methil no more
Irvine no more

Bathgate no more
Linwood no more
Methil no more
Lochaber no more

Postscript:

Some people inherit money and some inherit good genes. After my dad’s death I inherited begonia corms! These corms have passed down the generations and can’t be purchased in garden centres nowadays but continually reproduce every year. I have about ten tubs of beautiful red flowers in my garden every summer and I would like to think that all across America there may be similar gardens, as my forefathers may have taken with them a small knobbly corm, as a reminder of home.

267 4th Aug PICT3574.JPG

An Eclectic Mix of Anthony Newley, Nile Rodgers and Noel Coward!

Well it seems ages since I’ve written what I would call a conventional post – One intro, one song, one back story, one memory and one, “Wow, didn’t realise that back in the day” moment. Blame those very compelling Olympics, the fact that summer eventually came to Scotland and a lot of blog admin to be done (who knew that as time goes by there could be so much, but in for a penny in for a pound and all that).

I’m sure all bloggers are the same but even if I haven’t been posting much of late I’ve had plenty of ideas and I find myself scribbling these down on scraps of paper in the course of the day (surreptitiously of course when I’m at work and supposed to be thinking of very serious statistical analysis type stuff). I have now found these scraps of paper and the topics, if I can read them, are as follows:

Random pick from music app – Visions by Cliff Richard
Concerts at Capitol Theatre, Aberdeen
Anthony Newley, Fiddle liddle I doh
Songs from every Olympics since 1968
Duets where girl is forgotten about – Cherrelle, Denise Marsa, Marilyn Martin
Chic – “Don’t live in the past but it’s a nice place to visit” song
Songs from daughter’s time in musical theatre
Inter-Oil Company Pop Quiz 1985

So lots to choose from there but the random picks of the day are turning out to be quite embarrassing and if from your iTunes library it means you’ve actually parted with hard-earned cash to own them. I can only confess to purchasing Visions because I sometimes struggle with sleep and discovered that Cliff‘s voice and the sentiment of the song are both quite soporific and lullaby-like (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it).

Strawberry Fair by Anthony Newley:

Lots of stories to relate about the excellent concerts I witnessed in a small Art Deco theatre in Aberdeen in the ’70s and ’80s but will keep that one for another day. Anthony Newley‘s Strawberry Fair is our favourite novelty song as a family and if there is a chance to get the phrase “fiddle liddle I doh” into a conversation in the course of the day, we will. (Yes I know the actual phrase is “ri-fol ri-fol tol-de-riddle-li-do, but we never heard it that way.)

As for the Olympics, they have been great but as they end this weekend, anything related to all things Olympian will no longer be topical. I have already written about those very memorable duets, like Lucky Stars, where the girl is kind of forgotten about and wasn’t credited (Denise Marsa) then did it myself last week when I wrote about Saturday Love by Alexander O’Neal. As it turns out the song was actually a Cherrelle one and it was Alexander who was asked to duet with her later – My bad.

cherrelle

Chic, a band that epitomised the whole disco scene of the late ’70s, came back last year with I’ll Be There which was heavily played on the radio at the time. Not that their creator Nile Rodgers has ever been away, as he is the genius behind some of the best-selling albums of all-time which I often hadn’t realised until doing research for this blog. The track popped up this week on the radio and I do like that line, “Don’t live in the past but it’s a nice place to visit” especially when spending time on a project like this – Lovely to look back nostalgically but there is a whole world out there still to be discovered and experienced. Got to remind ourselves sometimes that the relationship we have with our laptops is never going to be as important as real-life relationships (and not being smutty here).

I’ll Be There by Chic:

I’ve mentioned before that my daughter was an aficionado of musical theatre and at some point I’m going to post one of her great recordings but to save embarrassment I will probably have to wait until she goes travelling, to a zone with no Wi-Fi. As an aside, anyone who wants to make a lot of money very easily – Set up a Musical Theatre school for little girls! Don’t put your daughter on the stage Mrs Worthington was told, but you know what, that’s exactly what lots of mums are intent on doing nowadays and from what I can see it’s money for old rope. You hire a church hall for a Saturday, get some music teachers to give up a few hours of their weekend, set yourself up with some fancy branding and logos and you’re away. Fees for the “term”, fees to appear in a show, fees for the costumes, fees for the tickets to go and watch the show and all the petrol for the running around. The “teachers” then get very generous Christmas gifts from some parents (which I always cynically thought was a bribe to get star-billing for their offspring – quite rightly it never worked though) and lo and behold come the teenage years they announce they don’t want to do it any more. Hallelujah.

You can tell quite early on however whether your progeny is going to be the next Barbra Streisand or whether they are more likely to make up the chorus. I remember well paying a fortune for tickets so that all the family could see our daughter appear in the local musical theatre school’s extravaganza. There are usually a few favourites that get the starring roles in any show but the vast majority of the other 200 or so make a very brief appearance and this time aforementioned daughter was in the chorus of Cats so no-one even spotted her or knew which “cat” she was! A lot of frustrated impresarios run these schools I feel and their students are not always given age-appropriate material – Fourteen-year-olds performing the Cell Block Tango from Chicago anyone? No I didn’t think so either. Anyway rant over but I still love my daughter’s singing voice and now she sings just for pleasure. Best way to go I think.

So, finally got to the last topic and I think I have used up too many words already so definitely one for next time – Yes the Inter-Oil Company Pop Quiz of 1985. A few funny stories about that one, a bit of of name-dropping and a few good tunes as well so will work on it over the next few days. In the meantime I will leave you with the sage and very witty words of Mr Noel Coward and his Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Mrs Worthington.

Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Mrs Worthington Lyrics
(Song by Noel Coward)

Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Worthington
Don’t put your daughter on the stage
The profession is overcrowded
The struggle’s pretty tough
And admitting the fact she’s burning to act
That isn’t quite enough
She’s a nice girl and though her teeth are fairly good
She’s not the type I ever would be eager to engage
I repeat, Mrs. Worthington, sweet Mrs. Worthington
Don’t put your daughter on the stage

Regarding yours, dear Mrs. Worthington
Of Wednesday, the 23rd.
Although your baby may be keen on a stage career
How can I make it clear that this is not a good idea
For her to hope and appear, Mrs. Worthington
Is on the face of it absurd
Her personality is not in reality quite big enough, inviting enough
For this particular sphere

Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Worthington
Don’t put your daughter on the stage
She’s a bit of an ugly duckling, you must honestly confess
And the width of her seat would surely defeat
Her chances of her success
It’s – it’s a loud voice, and though it’s not exactly flat
She’ll need a little more than that to earn a living wage
On my knees, Mrs. Worthington, please Mrs. Worthington
Don’t put your daughter on the stage

Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Worthington
Don’t put your daughter on the stage
Though they said at the school of acting
She was lovely as Peer Gynt
I’m afraid, on the whole, an ingénue role might emphasize her squint
She has nice hands, to give the wretched girl her due
But don’t you think her bust is too developed for her age
No more buts, Mrs. Worthington, nuts! Mrs. Worthington
Don’t put your daughter on the stage

Alexander O’Neal, “Saturday Love” and Mix-Tapes

As is wont to happen, you sometimes start with a plan but then veer off in a different direction to what was originally intended. I started this blog right at the start of the year on the momentous day that David Bowie died. As my day job involves working pretty much exclusively with numbers, I felt in need of some writing practice and with a blog you have a good chance of sticking to the discipline of writing regularly.

david b

But what to write about? Well for a long time I had thought it would be a good idea to write about those memories conjured up by a random piece of music heard in the course of the day. Like most of us, I have ended up letting my grandparents and even my own dad pass away without ever getting their stories down on paper and as I live what I would call an ordinary life, no-one was ever going to ask me to write an autobiography. Even ordinary lives have extra-ordinary moments however and it has been a bit of a joy recalling some of my special moments.

Mans Zermerlow

So for seven months now I have been merrily tapping away on whatever device is available and have found that it does become quite addictive. There is also the temptation to continually check on your “stats” only to find them disappointingly low considering you have just published something you think is pretty damned good. Feedback is a gift they say, and even if you are working on a pet project mainly for your own benefit, it can still make your day. But as time goes by, you can become a bit too focussed on the desire to get followers, likes and views and lose sight of why you started the thing in the first place!

Time to get back to what was originally intended therefore and not write for any particular audience other than myself – If anyone does read my posts and enjoys them that’s a bonus but not why I’m doing it. I have discovered some excellent blogs written by real music buffs and enjoy them a lot but the music I write about is really just an anchor for the memory and I would not profess to being an expert on any of it.

So if I were to go back to basics and pick a random piece of music to write about, what would that be right now? Well I have just switched on my iPhone which is sitting here beside me, and the song that randomly started playing on the music app was Saturday Love by American R&B star Alexander O’Neal. It was a hit in 1985 and was written by that incredibly successful songwriting team Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis who also wrote for Janet Jackson, Usher, Boyz ll Men, TLC and many more.

Saturday Love by Alexander O’Neal & Cherelle:

And that is why I think I stopped writing randomly – There is very little I have to say about this track other than that it was one of these smooth night-clubby numbers that I probably heard a lot whilst out with the girls in the mid-eighties (sporting big hair and earrings). I was never a particular fan of the ’80s night club however as it was all smoke and mirrors (literally) and not enough room for the serious business of dancing which is one of my passions. But then again it is a long time since dancehalls and night clubs have been for the sole purpose of dancing – No they have survived for decades for a very different purpose and I think we all know what that would be.

I think this is common to all girls but I do remember having quite a collection of mix-tapes made for me in the mid ’80s by potential beaus! Some of these tapes had fantastic collections of music on them and one had quite a few very seductive Alexander O’Neal tracks. Needless to say, when I met my future husband he was quite jealous of these “love letters in song” and tried to compete by making his own. Sadly he had sold most of his record collection to pay for essentials (like food) when he was a student so didn’t have a great base to work from. His answer was to use my record collection and although it was a really lovely thought, it’s just not the same when a mix-tape is compiled from your own well-loved, but well-worn, tracks. As it turns out we are still together all these years later and I hear him working away on his latest DIY project as I type, so the secret of a long-lasting marriage is obviously not the quality of the mix-tape, just perhaps, it’s the quality of the DIY!

Saturday Love lyrics
(Song by Jimmy Jam/Terry Lewis)

It’s been a long time
I didn’t think I was
Going to see you again

See you haven’t changed
It’s good to see you anyway

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday love
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday love

When I think about you
My feelings can’t explain
Why after all this time
My heart still feels pain

When I look at you
Memories of love
Like no one before
You’ll stay on my mind

Always so special
(I was yours and you were mine)
Made for each other
(All the good I won’t forget)
You will stay on my mind
(Saturday, the day we met)

Flying Down To Rio, Ipanema and The Copacabana

Well, many apologies to anyone new to this blog as this post is not representative, but I just couldn’t let the massive event that is the Games of the XXXI Olympiad, commonly known as Rio 2016, pass by without a musical mention. So in one fell swoop I’m going to get all those songs out of my system and into the blog so that I can move on to other, more worthy contenders.

The Opening Ceremony last Friday night was impressive indeed but of course nothing could have ever surpassed the joy I felt watching Danny Boyle’s “Isles of Wonder” Opening Ceremony at London 2012. But hey that was our Olympics, where we showed the world what we were all about and what with Mr Bean, James Bond, parachuting monarchs, Mary Poppins, Dancing NHS nurses and 50 years of music, I think we did that with bells on.

In terms of mood, Athens was apparently Classical, Beijing Grandiose, London Smart but Rio was going to be Cool. Well I don’t know about cool but it was definitely very green, in every sense of the word and also very sensual. We watched supermodel Giselle sashay (to walk in a slow and confident way that makes people notice you – tick) across the arena to the strains of Girl From Ipanema – Yes very sensual indeed. This song was about the only one I would have associated with Brazil, as the whole of South America, being non-English speaking, is still pretty much a mystery to me in terms of its music and film. The Girl From Ipanema was recorded by Astrud Gilberto and Stan Getz in 1964 and immediately became an international hit. It is a song I have always loved but it was not until last week that I came to understand that it was of a “bossa nova” persuasion. Brazil in the early ’60s developed a genre called “new wave” (bossa nova) but unlike in ’70s Britain, their genre didn’t involve safety pins, Johnny Rotten or agitated guitar playing, oh no, they combined samba with jazz to create a whole new sultry sound, the sound of Brazil.

Girl From Ipanema:

And so we come to my musical montage, and just to warn you this is not going to be pretty! The whole point of revisiting the “tracks of our years” is that they shouldn’t be carefully thought out so as to weed out all the slightly embarrassing stuff, it should just flow, and as some of my fellow bloggers know, some very dubious tracks can come out of the woodwork.

To kick things off I have a couple of very obvious contenders – Rio by Duran Duran and Gold by Spandau Ballet. Had I been a young teenager in 1983 I would have probably joined in the rivalry between their groups of fans, called Duranies and Fan-daus respectively, but I was too old for all that malarkey by then and was far too busy perming my bleached hair, visiting the sunbed and laundering my all-white clothing anyway. Yes Tony, those were my salad days!

Ok enough of all that but as Simon Le Bon sang, “Her name is Rio”, Dolores del Rio to be precise and if not for her, the magical pairing between Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers might never have happened. If anyone asked me what my favourite three films were, I would have to include as one choice, the complete set of 1930s RKO musicals starring aforementioned Fred and Ginger. They first paired up in the 1933 film Flying Down to Rio and although Dolores del Rio was the main star along with Gene Raymond, it was Fred and Ginger who sparkled in that one and in no time at all they were the ones getting top billing.

But enough of all that because also Flying down to Rio, this time in the 1970s, was that erstwhile Monkee Mike Nesmith who had by this time set up his own music video company (which explains a lot).

Of course having reached Rio you may want to head to the beach and what is the name of the beach again? Why it’s the Copacabana, and although Barry Manilow in 1978 wasn’t singing about the beach (he was singing about the New York nightclub), it is a story song with a very Latin vibe.

Just to be a bit different I won’t include Barry Manilow’s version but one from the television show Glee, which we used to watch with my daughter who was a bit of an afionado of musical theatre herself. The kids are having a bit of a meeting here and it could be called ELA (Easy-Listening Anonymous) where one by one they actually admit to loving the work of Barry Manilow. Anyone reading this blog will know that I myself would be a frequent attender of ELA if it existed, so glad to see that these cool kids are similarly afflicted.

And there we have it except that I want to include just two more clips, one simply as a reminder of just how differently we did things in London, and the other just because it feels right.

We don’t really do sultry samba combined with jazz in Britain, but we are very good at the old rock and pop, and the stand out performance for me was when The Arctic Monkeys got on stage at London 2012 to perform The Beatles’ Come Together. Loved those guys on bicycles, and what a great sound from Alex Turner and the boys. Summed the whole thing up for me really.

Although I just pointed out that we don’t really do sultry jazz in Britain, of course we very much did when the late Amy Winehouse was still with us and this is a great version of the “song of the moment” from her. Enjoy.

Back to business as usual for next time but phew, glad I’ve got it all out of my system. I will now just concentrate on the sport (albeit all happening during the night in the main) and I hear from hubby that Chris Froome has just won a medal, so well done him.

Girl From Ipanema Lyrics
(Song by Antônio Carlos Jobim/Vinicius de Moraes/Norman Gimbel)

Tall and tan and young and lovely,
The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes, “Aaah…”
When she walks, she’s like a samba
That swings so cool and sways so gently
That when she passes, each one she passes goes, “Aaah…”
Oh, but he watches so sadly –
How can he tell her he loves her?
Yes, he would give his heart gladly,
But each day when she walks to the sea,
She looks straight ahead – not at he…
Tall and tan and young and lovely,
The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, he smiles, but she doesn’t see…

Oh, but he sees her so sadly –
How can he tell her he loves her?
Yes, he would give his heart gladly,
But each day when she walks to the sea,
She looks straight ahead – not at he…
Tall and tan and young and lovely,
The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, he smiles, but she doesn’t see…
She just doesn’t see…
No, she doesn’t see…
But she doesn’t see…
She doesn’t see…
No, she doesn’t see…

Clifford T Ward, Long-distance Relationships and “Home Thoughts From Abroad”

An interlude to the thread that had been developing relating to songs from the 1960s because I want to send a message, through the medium of “the blog”, to my two favourite young people. It’s a big week in our house and if I tell you that the song Home Thoughts From Abroad by Clifford T Ward immediately sprang to mind, you’ll probably have an idea why.

Home Thoughts From Abroad by Clifford T Ward:

Anyway, the great thing about revisiting our musical past in 2016, is that by simply tapping return on a keyboard we can find out the whole back story to a song and to the artist who performed/wrote it. This just wasn’t possible in 1973 when the album “Home Thoughts” came out so I didn’t really know anything about Mr Ward other than that he had enviably long, luscious, locks. Yes in those days, when you pretty much just had to roll with the hand you were dealt in the hair department as sophisticated conditioning, colouring and styling techniques weren’t available to us, even we girls couldn’t help but admire those tresses!

First of all I am surprised that the song Home Thoughts From Abroad was never released as a single because it seems to pop up on the radio quite a lot but no, it was only ever a track on the album. The song Gaye was in fact the single release that did well for him in the UK in the summer of ’73 and why he is so familiar to me. Turns out that Home Thoughts From Abroad was written much earlier, in the ’60s, when his beat band performed in France at American Army bases. Clifford was only 17 when he formed this band and, wait for it, he was already married and also had a child – Certainly explains the very personal lyrics in the song.

Not long after his stint in France, the responsibilities of fatherhood took over and Clifford trained to be an English teacher. Again this explains more of the lyrics in the song as it sounds as if he was a bookish sort and used the famous Robert Browning poem as inspiration. Sadly he was diagnosed with MS aged only 43 and died at 57 having been cared for by wife Pat, whom he had been with since they were both young teenagers.

Well my favourite young people have also been together since they were teenagers but now “aeroplanes and boats” are going to come between them for some time. The world of course is a much smaller place than it was back in the ’60s but I do think it would be nice for them not to rely entirely on modern technology to keep in touch but to do what Mr Ward did and “put a line or two on paper”. It will mean so much more in the future when all the photos, texts and memes (whatever they are) have disappeared from long-redundant devices. Just saying…..

Home Thoughts From Abroad Lyrics
(Song by Clifford T Ward)

I could be a millionaire if I had the money
I could own a mansion
No, I don’t think I’d like that
But I might write a song that makes you laugh
Now, that would be funny
And you could tell your friends in Scotland you’d like that

Now I’ve chosen aeroplanes and boats to come between us
And a line or two on paper wouldn’t go amiss
How is Inverness-shire?
Is it still the same between us?
Do you still use television to send you fast asleep?
Can you last another week?
Does the cistern still leak?
Or have you found a man to mend it?
Oh, and by the way, how’s your broken heart?
Is that mended too?
I miss you, I miss you
I really do

I’ve been reading Browning
Keats and William Wordsworth
And they all seem to be saying the same thing for me
Well I like the words they use, and I like the way they use them
You know, Home Thoughts from Abroad is such a beautiful poem

And I know how Robert Browning must have felt
‘Cause I’m feeling the same way about you
Wondering what you’re doing
And if you need some help
Do I still occupy your mind?
Am I being so unkind?
Do you find it very lonely, or have you found someone to laugh with?
Oh, and by the way, are you laughing now?
‘Cause I’m not
I miss you, I miss you
I really do

I miss you
I really do

Petula Clark, “Don’t Sleep In The Subway” and The Music of 1967

Yesterday’s foray into the musical output of Andy Williams, has reminded me of some of those other great songs from the 1960s. Turns out many hits from that era were recorded by a whole host of other artists and Petula Clark often released songs previously recorded by Mr Williams.

A good few years ago after discovering iTunes, we went a bit mad revisiting the “tracks of our years” and probably down to the nostalgia element of remembering happy times as a child with my family, I ended up purchasing quite a few songs from 1967, which was probably the first year I really started to take heed of anything from the world of grown-up music. One of these songs was Don’t Sleep In The Subway by Petula Clark simply because it summed up the sound of my 1960s. The whole hippy thing was happening on the West Coast of America but flower power and psychedelia definitely didn’t come to my Scottish village so the kind of music listened to by families like mine, who watched mainstream television, came from people like Pet Clark, Cilla, Dusty, Lulu and The Seekers. The song was written by Tony Hatch (along with his wife Jackie Trent) and the relationship he had with Petula was likened to the one between Burt Bacharach and Dionne Warwick. They also worked together on Downtown, I Couldn’t Live Without Your Love and The Other Man’s Grass Is Always Greener.

Don’t Sleep In The Subway by Petula Clark:

Listening to this song again, it’s about a couple having a “domestic” so not really the jaunty, upbeat number I had always considered it to be. There are a few lyrics in there I find vaguely amusing, and don’t quite fit the rhythm of the music (’cause it hurts when your ego is deflated, um-m-um-um-um-um), but I don’t profess to be an expert at this kind of thing and it did sell an awful lot of records, so who am I to pick holes?

As a matter of interest, a couple of the other songs I purchased from that year were Georgy Girl by The Seekers and To Sir With Love by Lulu. Neither of the films that these songs came from were about particularly jaunty, upbeat topics either but they are still great songs, so well worth another listen.

Georgy Girl by The Seekers:

To Sir With Love by Lulu:

As it turns out my rose-coloured spectacles regarding the 1960s were severely tested this week as I watched the 1966 Ken Loach television play Cathy Come Home starring Carol White and Ray Brooks. It was a landmark piece of broadcasting at the time and told the harrowing story of an initially happy young couple with children, who due to unfortunate circumstances suffer the trauma of unemployment, poverty and homelessness. It was filmed in a doumentary-style which made it all the more poignant but for me the worst aspect was that fifty years on, many young couples with children still suffer the same problems today. It does sadden me that although we have made amazing advances in certain aspects of life (having the technology to amuse ourselves with all this malarkey), we still have people sleeping in subways, and that just can’t be right.

Getting too maudlin now so will leave it there for today but realising as I revisit the tracks of my years, that those seemingly happy, up-tempo songs often told a very different tale, and one which I am only now appreciating.

Don’t Sleep in the Subway Lyrics
(Song by Tony Hatch/Jackie Trent)

You wander around
on your own little cloud
when you don’t see the why
or the wherefore

Ooh, you walk out on me
when we both disagree
’cause to reason is not what you care for

I’ve heard it all a million times before
Take off your coat, my love, and close the door

Don’t sleep in the subway, darlin’
Don’t stand in the pouring rain
Don’t sleep in the subway, darlin’
The night is long
Forget your foolish pride
Nothing’s wrong,
now you’re beside me again

You try to be smart
then you take it apart
’cause it hurts when your ego is deflated
um-m-um-um-um-um
You don’t realise
that it’s all compromise
and the problems are so over-rated

Good-bye means nothing when it’s all for show
So why pretend you’ve somewhere else to go?

Long Car Journeys, Andy Williams and “Almost There”

Until I come up with some inspiration for which thread to follow next (might involve the Olympics but not too much Brazilian music amongst the “tracks of my years”), here is the earworm that has been haunting me all week.

I am really lucky in that I don’t have to practically get up in the middle of the night to get to work on time, so my alarm is set for 7.30am. As anyone who listens to BBC Radio 2’s breakfast show will know, right after the news at that time we have a “golden oldie” selected by a listener. To qualify as a golden oldie the track really has to come from the ’50s or ’60s so a bit before my time, but earlier this week there was a lovely story read out about the song Almost There by Andy Williams.

Almost There by Andy Williams:

As summer holiday season is upon us lots of families are embarking on long car journeys with kids piled in the back, and of course it has become a bit of a ritual for the driver to be continually asked, “Are We There Yet?”. The person who had sent in the request, who must have been about my age as this song was a No. 2 hit in the UK in 1964, recalled that their dad always had a copy of the song in their family car and at the appropriate time, when they were not too far from their destination, he put it on. This is just the kind of thing my dad would have done back in the day (had our car been equipped with a more sophisticated sound system that is) so it made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

are we there yet

As anyone who has read my posts will know, I am a bit of a fan of the old easy-listenin’ and any song performed by someone who can sing mellifluously (one of my favourite words) is a winner for me. Andy may not sing quite as mellifluously as Gentleman Jim Reeves or Karen Carpenter but he comes close. Waking up to Almost There earlier this week was quite a treat, like being wrapped up in a warm and cosy duvet (oh that’s right, I was).

I hadn’t realised before that Andy Williams had actually appeared in movies in the 1960s and this song was from the film I’d Rather Be Rich in which he starred along with Sandra Dee and Maurice Chevalier. My memories of Mr Williams are mainly from watching him on television as a child when he always closed his show with Moon River. (More warm and fuzzy feelings about “Huckleberry friends” this time.)

It was also on his show that the world was introduced to a family of brothers called Osmond who entertained us with their barbershop-style singing. In a few years time they would become the most famous boy band in the world but at that time they were happy to don their smart little jackets and bring out a new brother every now and again as they came-of-age. I will no doubt revisit these brothers again at some point as they certainly do feature heavily in the tracks of my years, but for the moment, I think I will listen to the mellifluousness of Almost There, just one more time!

osmond brothers.jpg

Almost There Lyrics
(Song by Jack Keller and Gloria Shayne)

Almost there, we’re almost there
How wonderful, wonderful our love will be
For you, for me

We’re almost there where we will share
A warm caress, tenderness, a dream come true
For me, for you

Love has waited such a long time
Now we’re a kiss apart
Darling, this is the right time
To let the kisses start

For you’re almost mine and soon we’ll find
Our paradise, paradise so rare
Close your eyes for we’re almost there

Hue and Cry, “Labour of Love” and Yet More Late ’80s Scottish Bands

Getting back to my theme of great Scottish bands from the late 1980s, I can’t omit that duo from Coatbridge, brothers Pat and Greg Kane from Hue and Cry. Their second single release was Labour of Love which reached No. 6 in the UK Singles Chart in June 1987. Like Danny Wilson whom I wrote about the other day, their music was of a sophisti-pop persuasion but as anyone reading this blog will have come to realise, these labels baffle me and as a non-musician myself, my relationship with the songs I write about is quite simple – Do I like what I hear, how do they make me feel and would I like to listen to more? With Labour of Love the answers were quite straightforward – Yes I liked what I heard, I felt perhaps “energised” by it and yes I definitely wanted to hear more from them.

Labour of Love by Hue and Cry:

As it turned out with Hue and Cry, the chance came quite soon to see them live. In 1988 they embarked on a tour that included, wait for it, the small Ross-shire town of Dingwall. Now back in those days, the Highlands of Scotland hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of the country when it came to venues for socialising. Although the big cities had vast nightclubs with sophisticated sound/lighting systems and those dancefloors with the flashing squares (as showcased by John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever), in the Highlands we had revamped hotel function suites, cinemas and dance halls. To be honest this was a bit of a godsend for me when I came to live here as if a particular record made me want to dance, that is exactly what I did and the gentrified nightclubs of the big cities did not provide enough space for my kind of dancing. (Yes many a night out was ruined for my friends as I apparently “put boys off” wanting to dance with us!)

Dance hall

And so it came to pass that Jings (seriously) nightclub in Dingwall, which had been a cinema back in the day, became quite the venue for bands touring the country. With a stage, a vast area for fans to watch from, and a small bar at the far end, it was very definitely part of the circuit. I loved my night of watching Hue and Cry perform there and by 1988 they had quite a repertoire of familiar songs to entertain us with.

hue and cry

A bit of trivia about the song – In 1987 they were asked to perform it at short notice on TOTP when the American band Los Lobos had a mix-up with their visa applications. As anyone who remembers that era will know, a slot on TOTP practically guaranteed chart success and indeed it was fortuitous that the song “La Bamba” didn’t make it onto the show that Thursday.

Of course at the time I hadn’t realised that the lyrics of the song were written from the perspective of a working-class Tory voter of the mid-1980s who had tried to believe in Margaret Thatcher’s new Britain but was now realising that there was “too much pain for too little gain” in doing so. Not surprised that the lyrics were of a political persuasion however as Pat Kane himself has gone on to be a political commentator and makes frequent appearances on Scottish current affairs television programmes. He now writes for the The National and The Guardian and was one of the founding editors of the Sunday Herald. Like many of his generation, and like my own dear husband, he is also now bald as a coot so I had to do a bit of a double-take when I saw him on television recently. In my head I still see him as that young man on stage in Ross-shire in the late ’80s, but then again I think we are all still in our twenties in our heads, it’s just when you catch yourself in a shop window, see yourself in a photograph or try to replicate old dance moves that reality kicks in.

Anyway, three Scottish bands showcased in five days so definitely time to move onto a new thread and I’ll have a think about that one over the next few days. Barring another shock death in this, the year of obituaries, inspiration could come from absolutely anywhere…..

Labour of Love Lyrics
(Song by Pat Kane/Greg Kane)

You said, you recall about seven years ago now
You said, that you we’re so tough
And I loved it, oh
Loved you for putting me down in a totally new way
Down with, the bad old, sad old days
(Get away now)
But now, too much pain for too little gain
And I feel like I’m gonna strike back right now

Gonna withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your heart, yeah
Withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your cold heart
Ain’t gonna work for you no more
Ain’t gonna work, for you no more

Ha, easy, I noticed you said it never was gonna be easy
But not this hard
You’re so cold, so cold
The romance goes when the promises break
My mistake was to love you a little too much

Gonna withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your heart, yeah
Withdraw my labour of love
Gonna strike for the right to get into your heart, baby now
Withdraw my labour of love

I can’t stand it, I said I just don’t want it
Never gonna need it, anyway yeah
I can’t stand it, I said I just don’t want it
Never gonna need it, anyway
I don’t want you, I don’t need you
I don’t need your tricks and treats
I don’t need your ministration, your bad determination
I’ve had enough of you, and your super-bad crew
I don’t need your, I don’t need your
Pseudo-satisfaction baby
I can’t stand it, I said I just don’t want it
Never gonna need it, anyway yeah
I can’t stand it, I don’t want it
I don’t need your pseudo-satisfaction baby

	Alyson on He Was Brill and He Heard Laug…
	Alyson on He Was Brill and He Heard Laug…
	Alyson on He Was Brill and He Heard Laug…
	lizzanorbury on He Was Brill and He Heard Laug…
	C on He Was Brill and He Heard Laug…