1970s songs – What's It All About?

Trips To London, ABBA Voyage and “Money, Money, Money”

I feel under pressure. My objective was to have pressed the publish button on 500 posts before this blog reaches its 10th birthday at the beginning of January, but I am now way behind schedule with seven still to write. As regular followers will know, there is a good reason for that, but as I still plan to reach my goal, I’d better get a wiggle on. Time for a web-diary type post.

It’s only 12 days ’til Christmas but I’ve not started thinking about it yet so no festive songs this time. Instead I’ll write about the other big things that have being going on around here over the last three weeks, starting with the trip to London we were advised to still go ahead with despite my mum’s passing. It had been planned for ages and it would be a while until her funeral service so it was a nice respite.

Just about every one of my friends had already seen the ABBA VOYAGE show in their purpose built arena in Stratford, but one who hadn’t, asked me a while back if I wanted to go. Then it turned out her husband wanted to join us so Mr WIAA decided to come too. This was the same couple who came to Eurovision with us 10 years ago, when we dressed up as Bucks Fizz, but this time we decided the outfits were just a little too outlandish (especially the mens’) for people of our vintage so I left my bright blue knickerbockers at home!

The hologrammed ABBA on stage!

As for the show, it certainly was an experience. You are in awe of the technology that allows them to be there on stage…, without them actually being there on stage, and the big wraparound screens showing them up close and personal were spectacular. I thought it would feel as if I was back in 1975 again, but I didn’t, as the arena is far more state of the art with fancy light shows than the small theatres I went to see bands in back then, and of course the audience is generally made up of people of a certain age. In the hour and a half running time however, there were only three songs we didn’t know with the rest all being crowd-pleasers, everyone singing along and dancing to the music. Would I go again? Probably not as I’ve done it now, but I’m glad I did.

Money, Money, Money by ABBA:

The ABBA show was on the Sunday night of our three day trip to London which left plenty of time to do other things. We split up with our friends on the Saturday which was fine as I had got in touch with our blogging pal Ernie Goggins of 27 Leggies to ask if would be willing to show us round his ‘hood? He was going to be available and was happy to do so, which led me to sending out a last-minute invitation to C from Sun Dried Sparrows to ask if she would be able to come through from Suffolk. I thought I had left it too late, but hurrah, she was free too, so we planned to meet up at Liverpool Street Station mid morning.

Ernie took his role as guide very seriously and had planned out a route that took in Brick Lane, Spitalfields Market, Graffiti Alley, The Huguenot Quarter, Shoreditch and The Dissenters Cemetery. The weather was a tad inclement but luckily we managed to fit all that in before the rain really started to pour down, after which we headed to the Barbican where Ernie had worked in his youth so he knew all the nooks, crannies and shortcuts! There we found a great photography exhibition featuring the icon that is Debbie Harry, back in her heyday. A great day was had by all and I now feel familiar with a part of London I had never visited before.

As for the rest of the trip we became very familiar with the Westfield Shopping Centre as our hotel was attached to it, but also The Olympic Park, the Docklands Light Railway and Canary Wharf. There, the tall glass towers housing financial institutions skirted the south side of the old East India Dock, but on the north side there was still Warehouse No. 1 and 2, which had been spared in The Blitz and was now a Museum, celebrating how the docks and wharfs of The Isle Of Dogs had at one point been the busiest in the world.

Crikey, my trip to London has fairly used up a lot of my words so I’ll be brief with the other things that have been going on around here of late. Even if you’re not a football fan it would be impossible to miss that we are now building up to the next FIFA World Cup to be held in North America next year. Scottish fans have not been privileged to watch their national side play in that competition for 28 years, but in a spectacular match against Denmark, where we scored two goals in extra time, we suddenly topped our group so are now definitely going to be taking part. For anyone aged 35 years or less, it will be a first-time experience so excitement is running high although I see the cost of tickets, flights and accommodation is going to be prohibitively high for all but the fans with the most Money, Money, Money. A great shame. Such was the spectacular nature of the goals scored in that last match, the merchandisers have been hard at work, and prints of those goals have been selling fast.

The hero of the night was Scott McTominay who seemed to defy the laws of gravity with his goal. Scott is also namechecked often in this song, already shared around here last year for the Euros, No Scotland No Party. It is true that until the Tartan Army arrive at a tournament, the party has not really begun, so I hope a fair number of them have enough money in their bankies to make the big trip across the pond to Boston and Miami.

No Scotland No Party by Nick Morgan:

We had a birthday in the family yesterday. Yes, Alfie the puppy turned one-year-of-age. We look after him a few times a week so despite not having chosen to own a dog ourselves, he is most definitely now shared by all of us. Needless to say he got a fair few presents and DD baked him some “pupcakes”, so he certainly was a pampered pooch.

Alfie in his new ball-pit with his birthday treat-holder!

What’s It All About, Alfie? by Cilla Black:

The final thing I wanted to share is that last week the charity shop I volunteer in moved to new premises in the centre of town. It’s big and shiny, like a “real shop” but maybe not the kind of place octogenarians are going to be able to help out in. An empty unit became available when quite a large chain clothes shop closed down, so those who plan the shop side of fund-raising quickly snapped it up. I think they had forgotten however that charity shops, in order to make money, rely on volunteers of a certain age to run them and even I was pretty tired after a four hour shift, what with a steady stream of customers queued up at the till, stock to price and replenish, shelves to tidy, and trips up two flights of stairs to fetch things. It feels at the moment like hard graft with no time to chat to your fellow volunteers or engage with customers, which was the fun part. The initial flood of business might tail off, but if it does the shop won’t make Money, Money, Money so a bit of a catch-22.

Although I said we no longer have time to engage with the customers, I did manage a quick chat with a 50-something year old chap with a hipster haircut who bought a clutch of singles, all from the 1980s. In fact it could have been a Who’s Who of people who appeared at Live Aid. I love catching people off guard as I don’t think they expect the volunteers to have much knowledge of the records we sell. I still don’t know why he liked the look of these particular singles so much but one of them was this, The Riddle, by Nik Kershaw. I ended up with an earworm that lasted several days, and I still don’t know what it’s all about!

Until next time…

Money, Money, Money Lyrics
(Song by Benny Andersson Bjoern Ulvaeus)

I work all night, I work all day
To pay the bills I have to pay
Ain’t it sad?
And still there never seems to be
A single penny left for me
That’s too bad

In my dreams I have a plan
If I got me a wealthy man
I wouldn’t have to work at all
I’d fool around and have a ball

Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man’s world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man’s world

Aha-aha
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It’s a rich man’s world
It’s a rich man’s world

A man like that is hard to find
But I can’t get him off my mind
Ain’t it sad?
And if he happens to be free
I bet he wouldn’t fancy me
That’s too bad

So I must leave, I’ll have to go
To Las Vegas or Monaco
And win a fortune in a game
My life will never be the same

Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man’s world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man’s world

Aha-aha
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It’s a rich man’s world

America, Puddletown and “A Horse With No Name”

I am time poor this week, as for the first time in my life I’ve had to do jury duty. Also, it looks as if I might be tied up for a while, so to keep up my new regime of posting something weekly, I’m going to borrow from a post I wrote right at the start of my blogging career and doesn’t seem to have ever been read. The reason I’ve chosen to revisit this particular post and song is because I save things I find funny on social media, and I did recently find this little cartoon funny. Probably for those of us of a certain age.

First published 9th April 2016

Most people will have heard the song A Horse With No Name by America at some point in their lives. It was a hit in the UK for them in 1971 but it turns out they were actually from Ruislip outside London. Would seem a bit bizarre if not for the fact all three band members had US Airforce Officer fathers who were based over here, and that is how they met. There is no escaping the fact their music is very much in the style of Neil Young, and Crosby, Stills and Nash, but that was exactly what they intended so it worked well for them. I have written before about how kids like myself who came from rural Scotland, found this kind of music very exotic and otherworldly. We had no dark desert highways or tequila sunrises, we certainly didn’t have warm winds blowing the stars around, and we wouldn’t have dreamt of crossing a desert on a horse with no name. Oh no, plenty of cows and sheep where I came from and lots of lush grass, but the whole desert imagery thing was something well beyond our ken.

A Horse With No Name by America:

The amusing thing for me about this “desert” song, is that it was actually recorded in the UK, at a studio in Puddletown, Dorset (you couldn’t make it up). It was released here first and it was not until the following year that it was a hit in the US.

But back to the song. For me, it will always be associated with my school days. In Primary School I always wore my long hair tied back in a ponytail so it was inevitable that the joker of the class would assign me an “equine” nickname. Too embarrassing to spill the beans here but suffice to say it was all done in jest and never caused upset. When we moved up to Secondary School I found myself in the same class for most subjects as the joker from my junior school days. The ponytail had long gone, but of course the song A Horse With No Name had well and truly become a part of our musical memories, so for the next six years I often found myself sitting in class, concentrating on a tricky maths or physics problem, suddenly realising that this song was being quietly hummed in the background for my benefit. Sadly we have now lost touch, but I swear that if our middle-aged selves met up again today, I would get a big smile, would be greeted with my old nickname, and given a few bars of A Horse With No Name. Funny how some things stick.

Until next time…

A Horse With No Name Lyrics
(Song by Dewey Bunnell)

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
La, la …

After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead

You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
La, la …

After nine days I let the horse run free
‘Cause the desert had turned to sea
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
there was sand and hills and rings
The ocean is a desert with it’s life underground
And a perfect disguise above
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground
But the humans will give no love

More Robert Redford Mem’ries and Hubbell Relationships

Last time I wrote about the death of Robert Redford and of how I had been a big fan during my late teenage years. I even shared an old photo of the large poster I had of him on my bedroom wall. The time before that, I wrote about having spent a lot of time this summer reconnecting with very old friends, and of how it had been such a joy reminiscing about those things that made us friends in the first place. This week I discovered the sequel series to one of my favourite ever shows on telly, Sex and the City, featuring Carrie Bradshaw and her pals, and all three subjects have somehow converged to create this post.

The day I heard Robert Redford had died I was due to visit a friend for the evening as her husband was away and she had the house to herself. A film, a few snacks and a couple of supermarket cocktails is how we usually roll (we’re cheap dates), but this time I made the special request to watch The Way We Were, my favourite Robert Redford weepie. It also starred Barbra Streisand and covered the period from when their characters, Hubbell Gardiner and Katie Morosky, first met at college right through to the years they lived together in a beach house in Malibu, him writing for the Hollywood film industry and her primarily a housewife, albeit one with very strong political views.

Barbra Streisand doesn’t sing in that one but she did record the theme song of the same name, The Way We Were, where the lyrics detail the troubled relationship her character had with with the aforementioned Hubbell Gardiner.

The Way We Were by Barbra Streisand:

The very final scene of the film, however, jumps forward many years to New York [spoiler alert: they are no longer together] where Katie and Hubbell meet by chance in front of the Plaza Hotel – Katie is campaigning to Ban the Bomb. It’s a difficult encounter (“Your girl is lovely, Hubbell.”) as they have so much history and still probably love each other, but they both have new lives and partners, and have to ultimately part with a tender, bittersweet farewell. This scene always makes me break down in tears but because of the meds I’ve been on since being ill, I have lost the ability to cry – I had to make do with just being really sad instead. Here is a clip of that scene:

That emotional final scene

Ironically I had never watched The Way We Were all the way through until it was referenced in an episode from the original series of Sex and the City. It became one of my favourite scenes when Carrie finally realises that her failed relationship with Big (the nickname her ex-boyfriend was given because he was supposed to be The Big One, the one she married) was down to the same reason that it didn’t work out for Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand in The Way We Were. The world is made up of “complicated girls” with wild curly hair (Carrie and Barbra) and “simple girls”, the ones with tame straight hair. Big and Hubbell chose the simple girls.

The Hubbell Moment

Even before Redford’s death, I had already been thinking about Hubbell Relationships ahead of my recent trip to The Granite City, my old stomping ground. My trip was purely to meet up with as many old friends as I could and it was really successful – even after more than 45 years apart, the meet-ups I had with old school friends were joyous affairs, with so much to reminisce about.

One person I would have loved to meet up with is mentioned around here often as he is kind of “My Hubbell”. We shared a love for ’70s/’80s music so he pops up in my posts as the s/bf (school boyfriend), again as the s/bf (student boyfriend) and sometimes the BOTT (the boyfriend of the time), when we were in our 20s. Many of us have a Hubbell, and there is no-one from those days I would have more to reminisce about with, but it just isn’t possible. We didn’t particularly part on bad terms, but it became obvious, again like with Hubbell and Katie, that we weren’t “going to make it”. I’m not particularly complicated and certainly don’t have wild curly hair like Carrie Bradshaw but the situation at the end was quite complicated, so there has been very little communication in nearly 40 years. I know Mr WIAA would get on well with him, as they are very alike, but bar bumping into each other outside the New York Plaza, probably not going to happen.

Do you have a Hubbell or a Katie, someone you shared so much with but then never saw again, or did you stay “friends”? I would love to hear about it in the comments boxes.

There have been lots of film clips in this post and not much music, but just the way it’s turned out. I feel I have to add the lyrics to The Way We Were despite them being a tad oversentimental (you don’t say!). The song was written by Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman, and Marvin Hamlisch, and it won two Academy Awards. The single was also a commercial success becoming 1974’s most successful recording in the United States placed at number one on the Billboard Year-End Hot 100. In the UK we are probably all more familiar with the Gladys Knight & The Pips version, also from 1974, where she did a bit of a mash-up with the song Try To Remember.

Try To Remember/The Way We Were by Gladys Knight & The Pips

Until next time…

The Way We Were Lyrics
(Song by Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman/Marvin Hamlisch)

Mem’ries light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories of the way we were
Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another for the way we were

Can it be that it was all so simple then
Or has time re-written every line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?

Mem’ries may be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget

So it’s the laughter we will remember
Whenever we remember the way we were
The way we were

My Live Aid Day Remembered – Freddie, George and ‘Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me’

I wish this anniversary had fallen on a Saturday as it would have felt more in keeping somehow, but no, the 40th anniversary of Live Aid day has fallen on a Sunday and like back then, the weather on the 13th of July in the North of Scotland is sweltering. Yes, the heatwave that had so far passed us by has finally arrived.

I finally got round to writing down my memories of that day five years ago on the 35th anniversary, and pretty much all of it still holds true, so a bit of lazy blogging from me today that I hope some new followers of the blog will enjoy (just substitute the number 35 for 40). I noticed that I made no mention of how we donated to the cause back then and to be honest I can’t remember – I used only cash and cheques in 1985, not plastic, so no phone-in for me – but everywhere we went there were buckets being passed around collecting money so we must have done it that way.

In the run up to the anniversary a BBC doc has been aired called Live Aid at 40: When Rock ’n’ Roll Took on the World and last night I watched the sequel which is the concert itself, shown in two parts. There was much about the politics of it all that really didn’t register with me at age 25, but back then it just felt good that through our favourite pop and rock stars we were able to do our bit to help the famine in Africa. 40 years on there is still famine around the world and again mainly down to politics – when will it ever end? A takeaway from rewatching the concert again last night was that compared to how it would be today, it was very male, very white and there were an awful lot of too tight pale blue jeans. Anyway, here is my post from five years ago, and yes, my flatmate of the day is still one of my best friends despite having lived at the opposite end of the country for most of the intervening years. Some things change a lot, but others thankfully never do.

First posted 13th July 2020:

‘It’s twelve noon in London, seven AM in Philadelphia, and around the world it’s time for Live Aid’

Those were the words that kicked off probably the most memorable fund-raising event in rock and pop history, and this week was its 35th anniversary. On Monday morning, after being reminded of the date, I decided to revisit my DVD boxset of the event and over the course of the week I’ve watched it all, and taken notes. Sadly these notes fill 12 pages of my shorthand notebook, so I have absolutely no chance of condensing my thoughts into a format suitable for a blog post. I do however remember how I spent the day, so before my aging memory lets me down, I think I’ll approach it that way.

You have to be of a certain age to remember Live Aid at all, mid 40s or older I suspect, but if you do, you’ll probably remember it was held on a glorious, hot summer’s day, the like of which doesn’t often fall on a Saturday in Scotland. I was a big music fan, but the concert would go on all day, so what did my flatmate and I do just before 12 noon on Saturday, the 13th July, 1985? We went to the local park of course!

Duthie-Park-1-915px — Aberdeen’s Duthie Park

I was prepared however and had brought a small transistor radio with me, so although we weren’t watching the action live on telly we did hear the opening act, Status Quo, Rockin’ All Over The World. Had I been watching on telly, I would have known that Paul Weller, who was next up with his Style Council, was looking very summery and dare I say healthy that day in his white trousers, but we only had this crackly radio. By 1 pm it was obvious we should head back to our cool, granite, second floor flat. The day had become just too hot and we were missing out on all the action.

Over the next few hours we watched the following artists perform on stage at Wembley in front of an audience of 72,000. Everyone that day was hot and bothered, there is no doubt, but also having the time of their lives.

The Boomtown Rats, Adam Ant, Ultravox, Spandau Ballet, Elvis Costello, Nick Kershaw, Sade, Sting, Phil Collins, Howard Jones, Brian Ferry and Paul Young.

Watching this segment of the concert now, 35 years on, it was a veritable Who’s Who of mid ’80s chart toppers (with organiser Bob Geldof included of course). The dress code of the day seemed to be either black leather or baggy white clothing depending on your musical leanings, but those who opted for white definitely suffered less in the baking heat. There were mullets of all persuasions too, even amongst those who were thinning on top (Phil Collins). The quality of the singing was less than perfect, but hey, there had been little time to rehearse or prepare for this massive event so hats off to them for committing, as some did not and later regretted it. Final observation – so many saxophones! The instrument of choice for the mid ’80s it seems.

And here is where the day was punctuated with another break from the telly, as the oil company I worked for at the time was hosting a barbeque for its staff that very evening. The flatmate and I duly got ready to head along Queen’s Road to the spot overlooking Rubislaw Quarry (from which Aberdeen was built) where many of these corporate HQs were based. Before we left however we caught the performance by U2 which is often cited as having elevated them to superstardom. Bono was tiptoeing around in his tight black leather trousers and long boots, but after spotting a girl in the crowd, jumped down into the mud at the front of the stage and helped save her from being crushed. They missed out on playing their third song but it was a sign of things to come from him, for sure.

maxresdefault (3) — ***My workplace at top left***

So, we arrived at my workplace in the early evening, but bowing down to pressure from their staff, it had been decided to install a big screen in the underground carpark so we could watch the concert whilst eating the fine barbequed food only an American company could serve up. My workmate was there with her new boyfriend, so was on a bit of a high. As was often the case however with these office romances in Aberdeen, it later transpired he had a wife who lived elsewhere whom he’d conveniently omitted to tell her about. They were slippery characters some of these chaps we worked with who often broke our hearts.

But back to the concert, we were now lined up on chairs watching scenes coming live from Wembley on the big screen. I’m not going to describe the Philadelphia concert here as would get far too bogged down, and anyway, it just wasn’t a patch on our set-up. Wembley, with its enclosed stadium, twin towers and greenery all around, looked beautiful on that hot summer’s day whereas the JFK Stadium in Philadelphia looked like a makeshift set of scaffolding surrounded by carparks and interstate highways.

As the day wore on the stakes were raised and artists of more legendary status started to appear on stage. First up we had Dire Straits but then we had the band who is generally thought to have stolen the show that day, Queen. I have written about their Live Aid performance around here before and it’s my second most visited post ever (link here) so won’t repeat myself, but Freddie was on especially fine form that day and owned the stage, encouraging the crowd to sing along in unison. His sustained “Aaaaaay-o” during the a cappella section came to be known as the note heard round the world. The last time I wrote about their set on Live Aid day I shared Radio Gaga, but having watched them again this week, the song they finished with was We Are The Champions which was almost as perfect. They certainly were champions that day.

We Are The Champions by Queen

It’s obvious watching this footage that Queen’s set took place just as the sun had gone down, but it wasn’t yet dark. This is my favourite time of the day for any outdoor event as there’s a certain magic about it. No harsh sunlight but not a total absence of light either. In Scotland it’s called The Gloaming and a very special time of the day. Up in Aberdeen it wouldn’t be gloaming for a while yet, so we sat tight and carried on watching the big screen.

Next up was David Bowie, looking very dapper in a powder blue suit and pointy black patent shoes. Another great performance and quoted as being “his last triumph of the 1980s”. He was followed by The Who who hadn’t played together for three years. No powder blue suit for Roger Daltrey, oh no indeed. As ever he had his shirt open showing off his hairless, suntanned torso. Roger must be doing something right in terms of looking after himself, as at the grand old age of 76 he still looks pretty good today, and I imagine the bare-chested look is something he still favours.

But this was Saturday night in the big city and one by one people were drifting off. The hostelry of choice for 20-somethings in 1985 was the Dutch Mill on Queen’s Road, so leaving the concert behind for a while, my flatmate and I headed in that direction. In those pre-mobile phone days, it was highly likely you would bump into most of your friends on a weekend evening, but when we got there on the evening of the 13th July, it was dead, as everyone was at home watching Live Aid. We had a quick drink then walked the short distance back to our flat in the city centre.

Once home we settled back into our large beige and brown sofa (it was the ’80s) and turned on our Radio Rentals telly. I can’t be sure, and I would be lying if I said I was, but the artist following on from The Who was Elton John so if we did get back in time for his set that’s who we would have watched next. Having viewed the boxset this week, Elton performed a couple of duets, first with his old mucker Kiki Dee, and then joy of joys, with the person I have written about most around here, George Michael.

I have mentioned the making of the Band Aid single before, and how the Wham! boys George and Andrew weren’t treated with much respect that day by the other artists, being proponents at the time of feel-good pop tunes. But here we were just six months on and Elton John saw fit to ask George to sing Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me with him. He said he was “a great admirer of his musical talent” when introducing him, and I have to say he gives an impeccable performance here. Also, unlike many others that day, he was dressed simply in jeans, white T-shirt and black leather jacket which is kind of timeless (we’ll ignore the fact it was dark and he’s wearing shades). His Live Aid appearance has stood the test of time and he went on to great things whereas those who had laughed at him are perhaps long forgotten.

Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me by George Michael and Elton John:

The Wembley concert finished off with a set by Paul McCartney who had been persuaded out of retirement for the event. Sadly he was the only artist on the night to experience microphone failure, so the audience missed out totally on one of his songs. It was fixed quite quickly but typical it had to happen to him. Once finished, he and Bowie raised Bob Geldof up on their shoulders, and then, along with the rest of the performers from the day (and a few others it seems) they launched into a version of Do They Know It’s Christmas?, the charity single that started the whole thing off. The first two lines were a bit ropey, sung by Bowie and Bob, but then they wisely handed the mic over to a safe pair of hands in the form of George Michael, who very confidently took over.

I think we spent a good few hours in front of the telly that night as we then watched the rest of the Philadelphia Live Aid concert, which would go on for a fair while yet due to time differences. The programmers also revisited ‘the best bits’ of the day, so by the time I went to bed in the early hours, I’d pretty much seen everything.

So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – I’m not going to get into the whole criticisms and controversy aspect of Live Aid. All the money may not have got to the right places, at the right time, but around 1.9 billion people watched the concerts that day and over £150 million was raised. There is no denying, the publicity generated meant that western governments could no longer ignore humanitarian crises. Through rock ‘n’ roll, the common language of the planet, an issue that was not hitherto on the political agenda, became so.

As for this post, it was for my own benefit really, as I have never documented My Live Aid Day and always wanted to. The flatmate I spent it with FaceTimed me the other day and is coming up to visit next month (as long as that pesky virus is kept under control) and the workmate with the broken heart soon got over it, and we still keep in touch via Christmas cards. The boyfriend of the time chose to spend that summer travelling round France with a work colleague, so missed out on Live Aid totally. Needless to say he soon became the ex-boyfriend upon his return, and we are definitely no longer in touch.

How did you spend your Live Aid day? I have met a few people over the years who were actually at Wembley for the concert and I love hearing their stories. If you have any, I’d love to hear from you.

Until next time…

Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me Lyrics
(Song by Elton John/Bernie Taupin)

I can’t light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white
I’m growing tired and time stands still before me
Frozen here on the ladder of my life

It’s much too late to save myself from falling
I took a chance and changed your way of life
But you misread my meaning when i met you
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light

Don’t let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see
I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me

I can’t find the right romantic line
But see me once and see the way feel
Don’t discard me just because you think I mean you harm
But these cuts I have they need love to help them heal

Oh, don’t let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I see
I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
Cause’ losing everything is like the sun going down on me

Don’t let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it’s always someone else I that see, yeah
I’d just allow a fragment of your life to wander free baby, oh
Cause’ losing everything is like the sun going down on me

My Blogging Absence and Puppy Love

WIAA: Alyson, like Nathan Jones, you’ve been gone too long. What’s happened?

ALYSON: I know WIAA, it’s been far too long and I have no legitimate excuse either. I never wanted to be one of those bloggers who was “no longer in the field” but I can see how it happens. Only another 7 months until my blog’s tenth birthday though, and I really want to make it to that date.

WIAA: You can do it Alyson, I have every faith in you.

ALYSON: Despite saying I have no legitimate excuse for my absence, I kind of do. DD has hijacked my blog’s title and set up one of her own – all because she has a new puppy in her life called, wait for it…, ALFIE!

Alfie by Cilla Black:

WIAA: Well, he certainly is a cute bundle but I’ll bet he’s keeping you on your toes.

ALYSON: He certainly is. We kept pointing out that it would be really difficult owning a dog when she and her other half work full-time, but of course that “minor” stumbling block was ignored, as I think she knew, come the hour, we would step in and help out with him. To be fair, DD does work from home a lot so it’s not been too full on yet, but we are roped in for puppy-sitting a few times a week. Mr WIAA is very fond of Alfie but I’m already totally smitten.

He likes slippers! Wait until the end to see his cute face.

So, what’s the obvious song to feature for someone like me who was aged 12 in 1972? Why that would be Donny Osmond’s massive No. 1 hit called Puppy Love. As regular visitors to this place might already suspect, I was a big fan of this boy from Utah who had a gorgeous smile and an awful lot of brothers. Although I’ve already shared around here the first album I ever bought with my own money (an Elvis one), I have never admitted to the second one. That would be because it was indeed a Donny Osmond one, Portrait Of Donny. It came with signed photos and I very naughtily told my friends I had written to Donny and he had sent them back to me. A lie to be sure, and I don’t think anyone believed me when they scrutinised the pictures, but hey, I was a pre-teen with a big crush who had a Donny transfer ironed onto her pillowcase and a pair of brushed denim flares with his name embroidered on the patch pocket (in chain stitch done by my own fair hand).

But of course it is no longer 1972 and I am no longer a pre-teen, and once their early ’70s heyday was over, it became really quite uncool to be a fan of any Osmond family member. What I thought would be interesting would be to see a clip of the song’s writer, Paul Anka, performing it in 1960. Not a song about a canine at all, but about teenage love, and how no-one understands it’s intensity – although we’ve all been there.

Paul Anka was a Canadian, who like Donny, was a bit of a teen idol. Unlike Donny he self-penned most of the songs he recorded and is famed for having written the English lyrics to the song My Way, Frank Sinatra’s signature song. Paul had a bit of a career resurgence in the 1970s and I do remember his song from 1974, (You’re) Having My Baby. My dad did a bit of a double-take when he heard me listening to that one, probably hoping it would be some time until I would be having anyone’s baby (it took 20 years actually!).

The last word should go to the real puppy though, Alfie. He came along just before St Valentine’s Day so of course he had to arrange a card for his new owner/mum. Very apt I think.

Thanks to my blog for prompting me to get blogging again.

Until next time…

Puppy Love Lyrics
(Song by Paul Anka)

And they called it puppy love
Oh, I guess they’ll never know
How a young heart really feels
And why I love her so

And they called it puppy love
Just because we’re, we’re 17
Tell them all it-, please, tell them, isn’t fair
To take away my only dream

I cry each night my tears for you
My tears are all in vain
I hope and I pray that may, maybe someday
You’ll be back (you’ll be back) in my arms (in my arms) once again
(You’ll be back in my arms once again)

Someone, help me, help me, help me, please
Is the answer up above?
How could I, oh, how could I tell them
This is not a puppy love? (This is not a puppy love)

Someone, help me, help me, help me, please
Is the answer up above?
How could I ever tell them
This is not a puppy love?
(This is not a puppy love)

Postscript:

As I’ve had a positive feedback to this one I shall cast my embarrassment aside and also share the clip of Donny singing his song, with his brothers doing a bit of backup singing. They all had their individual costume colour and Donny’s was purple. It therefore became the favourite colour of many a preteen girl around then!

A Mini-Christmas Ramble and Praise For Octogenarians

As is traditional around here, I had fully intended to write a Christmas post in the run-up to the big day but blow me down, our internet went on the blink at the start of the week. The good news is that an engineer came to fix the problem a few hours ago so we are now up and running again and catching up with things that should have been done a few days ago.

Last month I had said that reading hour was going to be replaced by writing hour for the foreseeable, and that worked well in November. December is a really busy month however so my reading and writing has suffered over the last few weeks. A lot of this is because of the social whirl that comes with volunteering. I’ve mentioned before that I now volunteer in a charity shop, but not just any charity shop, our local hospice is funded partly by all the good work done in the 15 shops scattered around the Highlands and I’m based at our HQ, the massive warehouse that could rival Amazon’s where the good people of Inverness come to donate things they no longer need. There is a large shop attached to the warehouse where I now work two days a week and this month I’ve also worked in the pop-up Christmas Bazaar set up in our local shopping mall. I love it and have made loads of new friends – ladies of a certain age to be sure, but ladies who all have a bit of a spark to them and know how to enjoy life. Last Friday we had the Warehouse Christmas Party, I also had a bit of a do at the actual hospice itself (a very welcoming and cheerful place) and next month we have a fancy meal out. It’s like being back in the workplace again with all the benefits that brings but without the office politics, and the pay check!

Some of the shop windows

But here we are at Christmas Eve and I haven’t yet shared a festive song – lord knows they’ve been played enough on the radio over the last month. I’m inclined to go for something by Paul McCartney as I was chuffed to see footage of him sharing the stage this week with his old mate Ringo Starr. It had been the last night of Paul’s tour so Ringo obliged by joining him on the drums. Considering they are now aged 82 and 84 respectively it warms the soul to know they are still out there doing what they love. We have people who work for our charity shops at the same age so no need to slow down if you don’t have to.

It’s a bit twee this song, but it did well for Paul in the run-up to Christmas 1979 and was the first single he released after Wings came to an end. It peaked at No. 6 on the UK Singles Chart and was accompanied by a very festive video of Paul and Linda having a Wonderful Christmastime.

Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney

I hope all my followers and blogging buddies have a wonderful Christmastime too. Someone who is missed on the blogs right now is our pal John from Are We There Yet? He’s a bit poorly at the moment so his Christmas will be severely challenged this year but we wish him all the best for a speedy recovery.

I will be going to DD’s for Christmas dinner this year. This is her first one in her new house so both ourselves and the in-laws have been invited along. No cooking for me tomorrow which is a big bonus. I shall enjoy being waited on by others – it’s payback time for all those years of having done it myself. Have a good one everyone.

Until next time…

Wonderful Christmastime Lyrics
(Song by Paul McCartney)

The mood is right
The spirit’s up
We’re here tonight
And that’s enough

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

The party’s on
The feeling’s here
That only comes
This time of year

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

The choir of children sing their song
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
We’re simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

The word is out
About the town
To lift a glass
Oh, and don’t look down

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime
Simply having a wonderful Christmastime

Barbra and Whitney: Two Ladies With Big, Big Voices

When I wrote about the death of Kris Kristofferson recently, I mentioned that I would seek out the film A Star Is Born to watch over the weekend. This of course was the 1976 version he starred in with Barbra Streisand, and sure enough, there it was on one of the many streaming platforms. I ended up having to pay for the privilege, which always galls me when we already pay for so many subscriptions, but when you’re looking for something specific it always seems to be the way. But I digress, did I enjoy it as much nearly 50 years after first watching it? I kind of did, but I think the more mature me has become a bit jaded, as the love story didn’t come across as epic as I remembered. I did appreciate Mr Kristofferson, however, and despite the passage of time, his character could easily be transplanted into a film made in 2024. Those rugged good looks never go out of style and as he seemed to be allergic to shirts, we did see a lot of his toned, tanned chest (if I’m allowed to say that nowadays). Sadly Ms Streisand’s bubble perm didn’t stand the test of time in the same way, nor her wardrobe, but her voice was exceptional, as ever.

I have long been a fan of the multi-talented Barbra Streisand who was the first performer to be awarded an EGOT (an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony). She broke my heart playing Katie Morosky in The Way We Were (written about here) and I am in awe of her powerful singing voice. With Barbra you know she will always hit every note, and inject each song with raw emotion. Here is one of the songs she “reluctantly” performed in A Star Is Born. A slow burner that really picks up the pace as her character becomes more confident.

The Woman In The Moon by Barbra Streisand

Another lady who had a powerful voice, and always hit every note, was Whitney Houston. Funnily enough, I was reminded of her whilst searching for A Star Is Born on Netflix. I didn’t find it there but they throw up suggestions of a similar nature, and one of those suggestions was the Whitney biopic I Wanna Dance With Somebody which I had gone to see at the cinema at the start of this year. I see it got mixed reviews, which figures, as there have already been a couple of documentary films on her life so we already knew her story. Having an actress play her in a film that sugar-coated much of the negative aspects seemed pointless to me and who wants to watch an actress sing her songs when there is still so much Whitney footage out there. The whole film was saved for me by the coda, where we see a flashback to the 1994 American Music Awards when Whitney sang a medley, suggested by her musical director. The medley was 10 minutes long and melded together: I Loves You, Porgy; And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going; and, I Have Nothing. It was a rousing performance and she was met with a standing ovation. I was similarly blown away by it.

I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston:

The final song in that medley, I Have Nothing, was written for Whitney’s film The Bodyguard by husband and wife team David Foster and Linda Thompson. Some of us will remember that Linda was in a relationship with Elvis Presley in the years before his death and, a bit of trivia here, she revealed in her memoir that the lyrics “Stay in my arms if you dare / Or must I imagine you there / Don’t walk away from me” were inspired by her time with The King.

So, “What’s It All About?” – Two ladies there with big, big voices and I have enjoyed, over the last week, revisiting some of their finest-ever performances. Barbra is still with us at age 82 but poor Whitney died young at the age of 48 after drowning in her bath ahead of the 2012 pre-Grammy Awards party. It didn’t come as a shock as she had become increasingly erratic in her behaviour due to drug use in the weeks and months ahead of her death, but, what a waste. Had she managed to conquer her demons she would probably still be with us today and like Barbra, continue to work until the grand old age of 82.

Until next time…

I Have Nothing Lyrics
(Song by David Foster/Linda Thompson)

Share my life, take me for what I am
‘Cause I’ll never change all my colors for you
Take my love, I’ll never ask for too much
Just all that you are and everything that you do

I don’t really need to look very much further
I don’t wanna have to go where you don’t follow
I won’t hold it back again, this passion inside
Can’t run from myself, there’s nowhere to hide

But don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don’t have you, you, you, you, you

You see through, right to the heart of me
You break down my walls with the strength of your love, mm
I never knew love like I’ve known it with you
Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to

I don’t really need to look very much further
I don’t wanna have to go where you don’t follow
I won’t hold it back again, this passion inside
I can’t run from myself, there’s nowhere to hide
Your love, I’ll remember forever

But don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
Don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me
Don’t walk away from me

Don’t you dare walk away from me
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don’t have you, you
If I don’t have you, oh you

A Man Of Many Talents: RIP Kris Kristofferson

Last time, I paid tribute to Quincy Jones who we lost at the start of November. Someone I haven’t yet paid tribute to, however, is Kris Kristofferson who died back in September. If I’d been blogging around that time, I most definitely would have written something, as he has appeared in this blog several times.

Mr Kristofferson is someone I have long admired but until I started blogging it was mainly through his film work. Back in the ’70s he appeared in many films (Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Convoy, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, A Star Is Born), and for some reason, he was one of the actors I took a real shine to. I have always had a penchant for a man with a beard (although not necessarily today’s hipster style), and he did sport a very rugged look back then. What I discovered once I started blogging, was that not only did he write some of the best-loved songs from that era, but he was probably one of those guys who would have succeeded in whichever path in life he chose. A top scholar, an accomplished athlete, a US Army captain, a helicopter pilot, a novelist, an actor, and a singer/songwriter.

Kris Kristofferson (sans beard) with James Coburn in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid

Having double-checked, I find it incredible that he never once appeared on the UK Singles Chart in his own right, despite the fact so many of his songs did make an appearance when sung by other people – For the Good Times by Perry Como and Help Me Make It Through the Night by Gladys Knight and the Pips amongst others. He definitely did make an appearance for several weeks in a row however on 1977’s TOTP as he was Barbra Streisand‘s love interest in the film A Star Is Born. Much smooching was done during the filmed recording of the song Evergreen which was a massive hit for her that year. (Yes, my 16-year-old self was definitely smitten with Mr K in that one.)

Evergreen by Barbra Streisand (with Kris Kristofferson singing very badly!)

***The back page of Words magazine from 1976, which unbelievably I still own***

The last time I wrote about Kris around here was when I was challenged to write about the song Sunday Morning Coming Down. I soon discovered that although Kris wrote the song, and Ray Stevens was the first person to record it, it was only when Johnny Cash did a version in 1970 that it reached No. 1 on the Country Chart and won the Country Music Association Award for Song of the Year. The story is that Kris, who was working as a janitor at the time for Columbia Records in Nashville, mainly to get a foothold in the industry, flew his National Guard helicopter right onto Johnny’s front lawn to deliver the demo tape in person. That was the turning point for him as once Johnny took the song on, and made it his own, Kris was quoted as saying that he never again “had to work for a living”.

Here is a clip of Johnny and Kris singing the song as a duet. The preamble is something they used to do quite a lot of on these sorts of shows, and it can be a bit cringifying, but it does lead in to an excellent performance.

Sunday Morning Coming Down by Johnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson

I will finish with Kris performing Me and Bobby McGee which is probably the song most closely associated with him. He was a pioneering figure in the outlaw country movement of the 1970s, moving away from the polished Nashville Sound toward a rawer style. Maybe for this reason, I often prefer his songs to be sung by other people and Me and Bobby McGee has been recorded by many. It was originally performed by Roger Miller, then a posthumously released version by Janis Joplin topped the Billboard Chart in 1971. Over in Canada, Gordon Lightfoot released a version and then Kenny Rogers and the First Edition included it on their Ruby… album. But here is Kris in 1979 actually performing a version I quite like. Just the right amount of raw delivery in this one I think. The song is the story of two drifters – the narrator and Bobby McGee. The pair hitch a ride from a truck driver and sing as they drive through the American South before making their way west. They visit California and then part ways, with the song’s narrator expressing sadness afterward.

Me and Bobby McGee by Kris Kristofferson:

As with Quincy last time, Kris had a long life and achieved so much, but his passing will bring sadness to his close family and friends, and of course his fans. It is not always the case that stars have a long life however and I am mindful of the recent tragic death of ex-boyband member Liam Payne. Unlike Quincy and Kris, he became a worldwide sensation at a very young age but once the heyday of his band was over, it must be very hard to adapt to real life. I am hopeful that the management companies and record labels behind these boybands start to exercise more of a duty of care in the light of his death, but I’m not holding my breath.

But for now, I say farewell to that rugged, good-looking guy I was definitely smitten by as a teenager. I think I will have to seek out one of his films to watch this weekend as a bit of a reminder of those days. RIP Kris Kristofferson.

Until next time…

Me and Bobby McGee Lyrics
(Song by Kris Kristofferson)

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waitin’ for a train
When I’s feelin’ near as faded as my jeans
Bobby thumbed a diesel down, just before it rained
And rode us all the way into New Orleans

I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana
I’s playin’ soft while Bobby sang the blues
Windshield wipers slappin’ time, I’s holdin’ Bobby’s hand in mine
We sang every song that driver knew

Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose
Nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no-no
And feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues
You know feelin’ good was good enough for me
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee

From the Kentucky coal mine to the California sun
There Bobby shared the secrets of my soul
Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done
Yeah, Bobby baby, kept me from the cold

One day up near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away
He’s lookin’ for that home, and I hope he finds it
But, I’d trade all of my tomorrows, for one single yesterday
To be holdin’ Bobby’s body next to mine

Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose
Nothin’, and that’s all that Bobby left me, yeah
But feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues
That feelin’ good was good enough for me, mmm-hmm
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee

La-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da-da-da-da, Bobby McGee, yeah
La-da-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da
La, la-la-la-da-da- Bobby McGee, oh yeah

La-da-da, la-da-da, la, da-da, la, da-da
La-da-da, la-da-da, la-di-da
Hey now, Bobby now, now Bobby McGee, yeah
Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord, lo-da-da, na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na
Hey now, Bobby now, now Bobby McGee, yeah

Well, I wanna call him my lover, call him my man
I said, I call him my lover, did the best I can, come on
Hey now, Bobby now, hey now Bobby McGee, yeah
Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, a Lord, oh
Hey-hey-hey, Bobby McGee, Lord

A New Found Appreciation: RIP Quincy Jones

We lost a titan of the music industry last Sunday when Quincy Delight Jones Jr., 91, died peacefully at his home in Bel-Air. He had come a long way from his humble beginnings on the South Side of Chicago. I thought I knew a fair bit about Quincy when I heard the news, but as ever, it’s not until you start to read the tributes that you discover how much you didn’t know.

I hadn’t, for example, realised he’d had quite the career as a jazz musician, arranger, and composer throughout the 1950s, and worked extensively with Frank Sinatra. Quincy first worked with Frank in 1958 and then six years later he was invited to arrange and conduct his live album with the Count Basie Orchestra, Sinatra at the Sands. Frank even gave him a gold pinkie ring with his personal crest and from that day on he never took it off.

Come Fly With Me by Frank Sinatra with the Count Basie Orchestra

I also didn’t know that Soul Bossa Nova, which became the theme tune for Mike Myers’ film series Austin Powers, was composed and first performed by Quincy in 1962. It got a whole new lease of life, and audience, when the first film was released in 1997.

Soul Bossa Nova by Quincy Jones

In the 1960s Quincy started to write the music for film soundtracks and along with Don Black created this bit of movie magic, On Days Like These, the theme tune for 1969’s The Italian Job starring Michael Caine. Sublime – one of my favourite ever film themes.

On Days Like These by Matt Monro

We’re now getting onto more familiar territory and I did know that Quincy produced the soundtrack for 1978’s The Wiz, the musical adaptation of The Wizard of Oz, starring Michael Jackson and Diana Ross. It was whilst working on The Wiz that Michael asked Quincy to recommend some producers for his upcoming solo album. He offered some names but when none were right for the project he eventually offered to produce the album himself. Michael accepted and the rest, as they say, is history. The first album they made together, Off the Wall, sold about 20 million copies. Michael and Quincy’s next collaboration, Thriller, sold 65 million copies and became the highest-selling album of all time. The third album in the trilogy was Bad, which sold 45 million copies, and this was the last time they worked together.

Off The Wall by Michael Jackson

Quincy didn’t often produce albums under his own name but back in 1981 he released the The Dude. I wouldn’t have remembered this album but I very definitely remember the single Razzamatazz (with vocals by Patti Austin) as it climbed to No. 11 in the UK Singles Chart, Quincy’s biggest solo hit over here. Having just listened to it straight after Off The Wall, there is more than a passing similarity, which of course makes perfect sense.

Razzamatazz by Quincy Jones with Patti Austin:

This tribute is growing arms and legs and I am conscious that I seem to be relying on a string of YouTube clips. We’re nearly there though. I’m also conscious I’ve shared a clip of someone I had banished from this blog a few years ago. It just didn’t seem right to make no mention of the three albums Quincy made with Michael Jackson, however, as in terms of his musical legacy they were probably his finest hour. I actually enjoyed watching the 21-year-old Michael sing and dance his way through Off The Wall, as being objective, he really was a rare talent.

In 1985 Quincy used his influence to get most of the major American artists together to record We Are The World. It was the US version of our Band Aid single and it raised even more money for the victims of famine in Ethiopia.

By the 1990s, Quincy Jones had his own production company and worked with film studios and television networks to make copious amounts of entertainment. He was the person who gave us Will Smith in the form of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and yes, you guessed it, he composed the theme tune for the show.

For the next 30 years Quincy continued to be active in the entertainment industry and as recently as 2020, he appeared on the album Dawn FM by the Weeknd, performing a monolog in the sixth track, A Tale by Quincy. I would urge you to listen to it. It explains a lot.

I am reminded of the post I wrote about Burt Bacharach when he died. Both he and Quincy were in their 90s when they died so it’s not a tragedy, but it does draw a line under their amazing body of work. Unlike with Burt, whose life’s work I was more familiar with, I have learnt a lot about Quincy writing this post. They don’t come along very often, these magicians of music, but aren’t we glad that a few times in a generation, they do. RIP Quincy Jones.

Until next time…

Razzamatazz Lyrics
(Song by Quincy Jones/Rod Temperton)

Don’t believe those clouds in the sky
‘Cause they’ll be movin’ on and the sun will shine
If the world’s been passin’ you by
Just reach for a star and you’ll realize

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz

If you feel your life’s in a rut
Just come on out tonight, and we’ll pull you up
Ain’t no use in dragging your feet
‘Cause something’s in the air that just can’t be beat

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)

Bring out the rides with all those white wall tires
Let’s go out cruisin’ like we used to do
Get suited down, let’s set the town on fire
Jump out your seat and let the music pull you through

We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)

Bring out the rides with all those white wall tires
Let’s go out cruisin’ like we used to do
Get suited down, let’s set the town on fire
Jump out your seat and let the music pull you through

You can lay your soul on the line
‘Cause we can make it work if we do it right
Got to spread this message around
The people of the world should be getting down

Got to put back all the good times that we had
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
We can make it better with a little bit of Razzamatazz (Razzamatazz)
(Give a bit of Razzamatazz)

An Autumn Reboot, T. Rex and “Metal Guru”

Well, I must be enjoying my time in Delaware a bit too much, as it’s been a while since I came up with anything new around here. When I say “my time in Delaware”, I of course mean the latest edition of my resurrected series, An American Odyssey In Song. But no, I will continue my journey around the states in due course – in the meantime I’ll explain why I’ve been so…

Lazy by David Byrne

In September we went down to Harrogate for another stay with my good friend from student days. I have however written a travelogue kind of post about Harrogate and Yorkshire before (link here) so I didn’t feel inclined to go there again. The difference this time was that our trip coincided with the local Flower Show and it turns out the amateur gardeners of North Yorkshire are dab hands at growing comically large vegetables. A small selection shown below.

Ooh err missus, what a lot of whoppers!

I’ll bet that’s the first time David Byrne has come next to a group of giant vegetables in a music blog. Not so for the Beach Boys, however, as they recorded a song about legumes back in 1967. If you don’t believe me here is the proof. The song was apparently a tongue-in-cheek promotion of organic food. Either that or about how marijuana was turning Brian Wilson and his friends into a “vegetative” state. I’ve heard it all now.

Vegetables by the Beach Boys

Our trip to Yorkshire ended up being extended by a couple of days as back in September LNER staff decided to strike on the weekend we were due to travel back north. Their online booking system confounded me when it came to changing our tickets, so I bought new ones for the Monday on the promise I would get a refund for the ones that were now useless. A hotel was booked in York and all was well – I thought. At the last minute the strike was cancelled so no refund after all. An expensive error of judgement on my part but I’m glad the rail workers came to a settlement.

The upside was that we really enjoyed our time in York. There had been a mini-meetup with some of my blogging buddies in that very city the year before, but that was just ahead of me becoming quite ill, so I couldn’t really enjoy that get-together as much as I should have. Second time around it went fine and we even won the pub quiz at the Cock and Bottle round the corner from our hotel! Here are some pictures from both the 2024 visit and from BlogCon23.

Regulars around here will probably remember that I was largely absent from this blog last year because my mental health took a turn for the worse. I even ended up becoming a hospital inpatient for quite some time. At the end of September, I had an appointment with the consultant I have to check in with every so often, and it was decided I should stop taking some of the medication I have been on for over a year now. Suffice it to say it didn’t go well and on top of the physical side-effects of stopping quite suddenly, I also felt very low which seriously affected my motivation for doing anything, including blogging. The good news is I’ve been back to see the consultant and I’m now back on the meds – not a long-term solution but in the meantime, I’m back to feeling like a better version of myself which is fine by me.

What I think will really get this blog started again is replacing “reading hour” with “writing hour.” To explain – last year when I was in hospital, Mr WIAA used to switch off the phones at 5pm and settle down with a book for an hour. It helped him unwind after a stressful day of worrying about me and fielding phone calls from concerned friends. He got through many novels during that time which was a first for him, as prior to that the same book used to sit by his bedside for about a year before it was finished. When I got home from hospital we kept up the same routine, but after 11 months, and 25 books completed, I think it’s time to change my routine. Having a dedicated hour set aside for a hobby is a good thing and I’m looking forward to becoming good friends with my blog again. (If anyone is interested in what I’ve been reading, I’ve listed my 25 in the postscript.)

I’ve mentioned the book below by Will Hodgkinson before, but I can’t recommend it enough to anyone who was born at the start of the 1960s and came of age in the 1970s. He covers the soundtrack to our teenage years, each chapter covering the various bands and singers who stole our hearts – and our pocket money – back then.

The first chapter is dedicated to Marc Bolan of T. Rex who along with a few others, came up with the musical sub-genre Glam Rock. T. Rex filled our rock and pop magazines in the early ’70s when they had a run of eleven top ten singles, four of which reached the top of the UK Singles Chart – Hot Love, Get It On, Telegram Sam and Metal Guru. I was at school camp in Ayrshire when Metal Guru reached the top spot. In those technologically primitive times, a small black and white television had been wheeled onto the stage of the hall where we all met up every evening, so that we could watch Top Of The Pops. I can still remember the big cheer that went out when we heard that Marc and Co. had knocked the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards version of Amazing Grace off the No. 1 position. We were Scottish, and they had bagpipes, but at the age of 12, all we wanted to hear was the sound of T. Rex.

Metal Guru by T. Rex:

I would love to say my friends and I had brought our glam gear to school camp, but no, satin and sequins hadn’t quite made it to the wardrobes of your average 12-year-old Scot back then. I did have some glittery eye shadow however that I wore to the disco at the end of the two weeks. I can’t remember now whether that was to match my crimplene flares, my hotpants with bib, or my gypsy style dress (all very fashionable in 1972) but I do remember that change was afoot. Colour televisions were appearing in living rooms all over the country and suddenly our favourite bands could be seen in all their glory. The costumes became more and more elaborate and were embraced by Slade, the Sweet, Mud, David Bowie et al. The teenage years were just about to start and we had been born at just the right time!

Until next time…

Metal Guru Lyrics
(Song by Marc Bolan)

Whoa-oh, yeah
Metal guru, is it you?
Metal guru, is it you?
Sitting there in your armour plated chair oh yeah
Metal guru, is it true?
Metal guru, is it true?
All alone without a telephone oh yeah

Metal guru could it be you’re gonna bring my baby to me?
She’ll be wild you know, a rock ‘n’ roll child, oh yeah

Metal guru has it been
Just like a silver-studded saber-toothed dream
I’ll be clean you know, pollution machine

Metal guru, is it you?
Metal guru, is it you? Oh, yeah
Whoa-oh, yeah whoa, whoa
Metal guru could it be you’re gonna bring my baby to me?
She’ll be wild you know, a rock ‘n’ roll child oh yeah

Metal guru, is it you?
Metal guru, is it you?
All alone without a telephone

Metal guru could it be you’re gonna bring my baby to me?
She’ll be wild you know, a rock’n’roll child oh yeah

Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah
Metal guru, is it you? Yeah, yeah, yeah

Postscript:

Mainly for my own record, here is the list of books I’ve read so far this year. I’ve highlighted the ones I enjoyed most in case anyone trusts my judgement.

We Solve Murders – Richard Osman
The First Casualty – Ben Elton
The Housemaid – Freida McFadden
The Other Queen – Philippa Gregory
The Last Tudor – Philippa Gregory
The Lost Bookshop – Evie Woods
The Zone of Interest – Martin Amis
Demon Copperhead – Barbara Kingsolver
Tell Me A Secret – Jane Fallon
Never Greener – Ruth Jones
The Dead of Winter – Stuart MacBride
Larch Tree Lane – Anna Jacobs
Meantime – Frankie Boyle
In Perfect Harmony: Singalong Pop in 70s Britain – Will Hodgkinson
Companion Piece – Ali Smith
French Braid – Anne Tyler
A Mother’s Heart – Carmel Harrington

All of the following by Louise Candlish – I really got into her this summer after reading her newest novel Our Holiday. Probably best suited to female readers but a particular house always features as a main character which is a bit different. Psychological thrillers in the main.

Our Holiday
The Second Husband
The Day You Saved My Life
The Island Hideaway
The Sudden Disappearance of the Frasers
The Only Suspect
The Disappearance of Emily Marr
The Heights

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