Category: RIP 2025

RIP Mum: Songs From The Funeral

Well, a lot has happened since my last post a fortnight ago. The biggest thing being that on Monday we had a funeral service for my mum, which despite being small and intimate, was packed full of all the elements I know she would have approved of, and some she might not – but which went down really well with everyone who attended and watched online. She would have come round I know.

DD’s chosen flower spray

There seems to be a tipping point with age of death, which might be individual to each person, but unlike when someone dies prematurely at far too young an age, there are others whom everyone can agree “had a good innings”, and the funeral service is more a celebration of their life. I think my mum’s service fell into the latter category. Even around here, we seem to be writing tributes all the time for our musical heroes who are passing on at an alarming rate, but there is a totally different tone when it’s for someone like George Michael as opposed to when it’s for Burt Bacharach. I really enjoyed writing Burt’s tribute as I could revisit all those great songs of his I loved listening to growing up, however, I was totally bereft when George died suddenly on Christmas Day 2016, and his heartfelt tribute stretched to four parts.

But back to my mum’s service. It was held at the funeral home as opposed to in a church which is the first thing my mum might have raised an eyebrow at, but the church she had attended in town closed in the years since she went into the care home, so that was no longer an option, and her minister had moved away. Fortunately the minister from our local church was happy to conduct the service (despite the fact we never attend) and so we jointly came up with the Running Order as I called it, although I think it’s supposed to be the Order Of Service.

Although last time I included some of my mum’s favourite artists and music, I took a different tack for her funeral service and the song that accompanied her coffin entering the room was this one, My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose by our National Bard, Rabbie Burns. My mum would never have thought of herself as anything but a Scot, not for any other reason than that was just what she was. It seemed apt therefore to have this sweet Burns song commence proceedings. In the video clip below the singer Karen Matheson is introduced by Mr WIAA’s old art teacher, Donnie Munro, of popular Scottish band Runrig. The audio clip is by Margaret Donaldson and was the one used for the service.

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose by Margaret Donaldson:


My luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

Having just read up about Burns and the song, it seems he was more the “compiler” of A Red, Red Rose rather than its author. He could take childish/unsophisticated sources and turn them into magic. Many composers have set Burns’ lyric to music, but it gained worldwide popularity set to the traditional tune Low Down in the Broom. In the final years of his life, Burns worked extensively on traditional Scottish songs, ensuring the preservation of over 300, including, thankfully for Scots the world over on Hogmanay, Auld Lang Syne.

The service then went on to contain a hymn, a couple of readings from the bible and a prayer which is what my mum would have expected, and would have appealed to the many old friends and relatives who were watching from abroad and from our village in Aberdeenshire. When it came to the eulogy I was not prepared to leave it in the hands of a minister who didn’t know my mum, so I elected to write it myself. All this blogging for ten years should surely help with that I thought, and it did. I was advised that 1000 words would take 10 minutes but after testing that theory we found you get 1400 words into 10 minutes so I used every one of them wisely, telling the story of her life (the detail of which people were amazed I could remember) and throwing in a fair few humorous stories along the way. I was very pleased with how it turned out. After setting the scene with the eulogy we watched a slide show of 40 photos, chronologically recording my mum’s life (easy for me to put together as I have generations of family photos in my loft). Sadly the slide show hit technical difficulties at slide two so we missed the three photos below but luckily it righted itself fairly quickly.

Photos of my mum as a youngster from the chronological slide show of her life


The song I chose to accompany the slide show was again, very apt for my mum, and although I think she would have been a bit shocked by its inclusion, it was the element that everyone commented upon afterwards. It was Jimmy Unknown by Doris Day. My dad was called Jimmy and was present in more than half of the photos we shared so it was just perfect. Although I had been trial-running it for a week, poor DD was not prepared, and seeing photos of herself with granny and grandad definitely tipped her over the edge.

Over the mountain, over the sea
Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me


Jimmy Unknown by Doris Day:


After the slide show we had another reading and prayer followed by the final hymn – something we all knew how to sing. In today’s more secular society we are just not familiar with the hymns and prayers the previous generations grew up with, which can make it awkward when trying to sing along to the music at a funeral or wedding. It suddenly goes up when you think it’s going to go down (Mr WIAA’s pet hate), or vice-versa.

The music I chose for the committal, when the curtains are pulled shut to hide the coffin, was the same piece of music I chose for my dad’s funeral 22 years ago, Highland Cathedral. It just made sense to bring them together like that. As I said above, my mum and dad always saw themselves as Scottish and after I moved to The Highlands, they became very familiar with my neck of the woods. It’s hard to find a version that isn’t too rousing played by a massed pipe band, but I thought this version found a balance. The photo is one of the cathedral in the centre of our town.

Highland Cathedral by The Band of Her Majesty’s Royal Marines Scotland:


There were only 25 of us at the service, 10 family/extended family members and 15 of my friends and neighbours who knew her. I know that quite a few watched from the village and they got in touch to tell me what a lovely service it was which was a relief. My cousin in Perth, Australia, watched at 10.30pm however my cousin in Melbourne had to wait until we had a recording of it, as it would have been 1.30am for him.

Afterwards we went to the hotel recommended by the undertaker who helped me organise things, for the “funeral tea” (although I later discovered they also own that hotel – makes sense!). Fortunately most people came and I had a lovely chat with my best friend from Primary School who had also worked with my mum at the village Health Centre. The biggest difference between us now is that most older people from rural Aberdeenshire still speak in the native Doric, whereas I lost that over 40 years ago. Two cousins came whom I don’t see nearly enough of, so plans have been made for the coming year. I also had to thank all those friends who came for support as they knew we had such a tiny family.

So, “What’s It All About?” – My mum was 90 when she passed away and despite having Alzheimer’s at the end, I think we could all agree she had a good life. My dad passed away too soon which made his funeral a really sad affair but I’d like to think my mum’s truly was a celebration of her life (although apologies to DD for making her very emotional). Life will be a bit different now with no more visits to the care home, but despite all my worries at the outset, she was well looked-after there right to the end.

Until next time…

Jimmy Unknown Lyrics
(Song by Ruth Roberts/Bill Katz)

Who will be my Jimmy Unknown?
Someone to love me and call me his own
Over the mountain
Over the sea
Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me

Will he be handsome? Will he be strong?
Lifting my heart like a beautiful song
Over the mountain
Over the sea
Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me

The day I surrendered
My lips to his charms
My secret of love
Will be lost in his arms

Who will be my Jimmy Unknown?
Someone who never would leave me alone
Over the mountain
Over the sea
Somewhere my Jimmy is waiting for me

A Sad Farewell To One Of The WIAA Family

My mum hasn’t featured around here for some time but over the years she has been mentioned on many occasions, first as someone who enjoyed reading my latest blog post when I went to visit her in her retirement flat, and then as someone who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease and had to move into a care home. Come Christmastime I always shared some seasonal music for all the generations of my family and my mum invariably got something from the Jim Reeves 12 Songs Of Christmas album. She did like her Jim Reeves.


Sadly, she passed away on Sunday, but thankfully it was quite quick in the end. I’d gone to visit her the day before and realised she was failing, but I was reassured it could take some time. I got a phone call at 6am the following morning to say I should come in to the care home but didn’t quite make it in time. That’s on me, but to be honest I don’t really want to remember her as she was over the last year of her life as it all became a bit grim latterly. I’m not sure who Alzheimer was, but he would have done well to keep his pesky disease to himself.

Looking through photos of her from over the years, I realise I’ve shared quite a few around here, those lovely black and white ones that look so much classier than the high resolution colour shots we now take on our camera phones. I will use some of them for the funeral. I did find something else however from not that long ago, a clip I want to share with you, to give you a sense of the lady. She did like her music, had natural rhythm and loved to dance. Whenever the accordionist came in to the care home she acted as his wingman, getting everyone enthused and choosing the repertoire. I have to smile when I see this.

My mum in better times

As you can imagine I’ve been really busy over the last few days with the admin of death but her funeral service is coming together nicely and I’m quite happy with what we’ve organised so far. I suspected it would be a really small intimate affair but I see the undertaker shared her announcement on his social media page today, as is the custom, and there has been an outpouring of affection for her from all sorts of people I have never heard of – from shopworkers, from cleaners in her flats, from people who met her walking into town and of course from the many care workers in her nursing home. I might have to hire a bigger boat!

I don’t think I can write much more to be honest as I have loads to do and a weekend away to prepare for. Yes, my London trip had been booked for ages and now that we are organised for the funeral in 12 days time, we can allow ourselves some down time. I think I am even going to meet up with some people from my little blogging community whilst in London, which is a bonus, so watch this space.

I shall leave you with some of those black and white photos I mentioned above and one of my mum’s favourite pieces of music, Stranger On The Shore by Acker Bilk.


Stranger On The Shore by Acker Bilk

Until next time, RIP Mum xx

RIP Diane Keaton – “You Don’t Own Me” and Parallel Lives

My jury duty is now over, so back to my routine of posting something new weekly. Little did I think last time, that I would be writing a tribute for one of my favourite actresses of all time, Diane Keaton. With Robert Redford I didn’t really get a shock when I heard of his death, but with Diane Keaton I most certainly did. First of all I hadn’t realised she was as old as she was (79 when she died), as we have kind of grown up together with her film roles often reflecting what my life was like at the time. Also, although she did have more lines on her face as the years went by (as do I), she always seemed to be smiling which gave her a really youthful appearance.


The first film you think of when reflecting on Diane Keaton’s legacy is Annie Hall, the film made in 1977 that was written specifically for her, and in which she starred with Woody Allen. Diane had frequently collaborated with Woody prior to this and had also played Kay Adams in the Godfather films, but I don’t think I had actually seen them at this point so Annie Hall was my first introduction to her, and what an impact she made.

I had gone to see the film in Aberdeen’s Capitol Theatre one Saturday afternoon in 1978 with my best friend of the time. We had recently left school for University, and as we now lived in the big city, we were able to enjoy all that it had to offer. After watching Diane Keaton in Annie Hall we trawled the very few charity and vintage shops that were available at the time, and kitted ourselves out in baggy trousers, shirts and waistcoats. Such apparel would have looked ridiculous in rural Aberdeenshire but now that we were students it fitted our new personas perfectly. Also, despite looking outwardly quite quirky and different, if an older student or lecturer had entered into conversation with me, I would have become a gibbering wreck, not having yet acquired the confidence needed for such encounters. Inside, I was still that girl from a country school. Like Annie, I would have probably gone down the La-di-da, La-di-da route before making an embarrassing exit.


After watching the clip above last Sunday I kept having the song line, “La-di-da-di-da”, swirling around in my head. I couldn’t remember for a start what the song was, and it certainly wasn’t from the film, but it didn’t take long to work out it was Why, a song from 1982 written by Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards and performed by Carly Simon.


But back to Diane Keaton. Throughout the rest of the 70s, the 80s and beyond she appeared in many, many films, some with Woody Allen, but as time went by, mostly not. She could tackle the serious roles (Reds) just as easily as the romantic comedy ones (Baby Boom), and I loved her in everything she did. In terms of her style, the clothes had changed in the films she made, as did my style as serious jobs and motherhood had entered my life. And this is when a really special moment happened in my life. In around 2010, DD’s good friend Jamie who was a frequent visitor to our house, sent her a film clip with this message: “Omg, I’ve just been watching this film, and one of the actresses looks just like your mum”. Yes, DD’s friend had likened me to Diane Keaton! Although I knew she was a lot prettier than me, I was very flattered, as she had always been the actress I most wanted to be like in real life.

This was that clip from the 1996 film The First Wives Club. I did wear my glasses a lot more around that time, and my hair was of a similar style and colour, so I can see how he thought of me, but I don’t think he ever realised just how big a compliment he had just paid me.

You Don’t Own Me by The Blow Monkeys:


You Don’t Own Me was a pop song recorded by Lesley Gore in 1963, when she was just 17 years old. The song was her second most successful recording and her last top-ten single. It expressed emancipation, as the singer tells a lover she doesn’t want to be held to his hypocritical gender standards, such as not being able to see other men, when he sees other women. The song’s lyrics became an inspiration for younger women and are sometimes cited as a factor in the development of the second wave feminist movement. I don’t have the Lesley Gore version of this song in my library, but I do have this interesting version by The Blow Monkeys, recorded for the film Dirty Dancing which was set in 1963.

My final “Alyson/Diane lead parallel lives” story came about after I watched her in the 2003 film Something’s Gotta Give, with Jack Nicholson. Diane played Erica Barry, a successful writer who lives in a beautiful beach house overlooking the ocean. Although we don’t earn anything from this blogging hobby of ours, I have always been a frustrated writer so it’s a great outlet, also, my dream house would be one by the coast, overlooking the sea. But the big parallel between myself and Erica’s character is that she always wears polo-necks, or turtle-necks as they call them in North America. It’s a standing joke throughout the film, as it is with most of my friends who know that between the months of September and May I only wear cream or black polo-neck jumpers. Between June and August I change into striped T-shirts and shirts, but I never show much flesh.


Having read a lot about Diane since she died last Saturday, it seems her propensity for wearing polo-necks and hats with her quirky outfits in real life, was because she had suffered from recurring bouts of skin cancer, as have I. Not for us the sundresses and skimpy tops of our naturally darker skinned friends, and come September, when I become alabaster white again, I have to add a bit of artificial colour to my face. Having a tanned face but a white neck looks ridiculous, thus the polo-necks. I’ve even managed to source polo-necked evening dresses in the past for posh events!

So, “What’s It All About?” – I am beyond sad that Diane has left us and I hope I have explained in this post just why. She was the actress I most admired and felt close to because of the similarities between us. She will never pop up in anything new again but at least we still have all those great films to revisit time and time again.

RIP Diane Keaton xx


Until next time…

You Don’t Own Me Lyrics
(Song by John Madara/Dave White)

You don’t own me
I’m not just one of your many toys
You don’t own me
Don’t say I can’t go with other boys

And don’t tell me what to do
Don’t tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don’t put me on display ’cause

You don’t own me
Don’t try to change me in any way
You don’t own me
Don’t tie me down ’cause I’d never stay

I don’t tell you what to say
I don’t tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That’s all I ask of you

I’m young, and I love to be young
I’m free, and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want
To say and do whatever I please

And don’t tell me what to do
Oh, don’t tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don’t put me on display

I don’t tell you what to say
Oh, don’t tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That’s all I ask of you

I’m young, and I love to be young
I’m free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want
To say and do whatever I please

RIP Robert Redford – Songs from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

One of the last great actors from Hollywood’s Golden Age left us last week and I’ve had a really enjoyable time reading all the tributes that have been written about him since. He lived to the grand old age of 89 and had achieved so much in his life so it wasn’t one of those really tragic deaths but the natural conclusion to a life well-lived. By all accounts he was a Prince Among Men – a man with great integrity who just happened to be blessed with golden good looks and the skills to be a talented actor and director. He was an environmentalist and a great supporter of independent cinema, setting up the Sundance Institute and the Sundance Film Festival, helping to foster a new generation of filmmakers.


I became a big fan of both Paul Newman and Robert Redford after watching them in the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I wrote about songs from the film in my first year of blogging and looking back it doesn’t seem to have ever been read by anyone, so I’m going to share it again. I have another Redford film to write about that’s also featured around here, but I’ll leave that one until next time.

First published 28th August 2016

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 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 UK 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 the scene on the bicycle kind of summed it up for me. Over the years I have tried to put together the recipe for a “perfect day” and a lot of the ingredients 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 comfortable, 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 the 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

Postscript:

As luck would have it I’ve just found a photo of my teenage bedroom and I think I made a mistake – Robert Redford was the large poster and Paul Newman the smaller one. Shows off the mustard/khaki walls too (and Sandra the doll!).

RIP Brian Wilson, The Beach Boy Who Couldn’t Swim

I was really saddened to hear news of the death of Brian Wilson last night before going to bed. There aren’t many artists with their own category on my sidebar, but the group The Beach Boys, which could never have existed without Brian, is definitely there. He is the last Wilson brother to leave us, at a respectable age of 82, but is this the start of something that I’ve been dreading for a while – those legends who against all the odds have made it to be octogenarians, might be on borrowed time. Let’s hope not.


Brian was most definitely ahead of his time and after signing with Capitol Records in 1962, became the first pop musician credited for writing, arranging, producing, and performing his own material. In short, Brian was a genius.

As I am time-poor at the moment I’m going to cheat a little with my tribute to Brian by sharing some excerpts from blog posts I’ve written before. Wonderful to see the clips again though, and to listen to those wonderful songs.

From 2/10/20

It was the year of Covid and many of us watched an awful lot of telly. I found a really special documentary on Prime called Echo In The Canyon where Jakob Dylan (Bob’s son) had met up with and interviewed musicians who had lived in Laurel Canyon in the 1960s. Brian was one of those musicians. Jakob then paired up with other musicians to make contemporary versions of their songs from back in the day. A truly magical bit of telly. Here is an excerpt from the post I wrote about it:

Jakob looks and sounds uncannily like his dad at times during the film, where he and a selection of other musicians cleverly intersperse candid interviews with performances of some of the most memorable songs from the era. One of these guest musicians was my new discovery, Fiona Apple. I was bowled over when they got up on stage to sing the Brian Wilson song In My Room. Short, but oh so beautiful.

In My Room by Fiona Apple and Jakob Dylan:


Brian Wilson from the Beach Boys had been a Laurel Canyon resident in the late ’60s and despite starting out writing songs that represented the youth culture of southern California (basically surfin’, surfin’ and more surfin’) it soon became obvious that Brian was a bit of a musical genius, the like of whom don’t come along very often. Their album Pet Sounds, written and produced by Brian, was released in 1966 and is often cited as having inspired the Beatles to make Sgt. Pepper.

Apparently Brian had been an agoraphobic during his teens and had refused to leave his bedroom for some time. The song was written from the perspective of a teenager who felt safe and comfortable there. I’m pretty sure DD doesn’t have agoraphobia, but the amount of time she has been spending in her old school bedroom since returning home is concerning me [this was the year of Covid – Alyson]. She is studying, and possibly doesn’t want to interfere with our routines, but as for many other young people who may not have work right now and can no longer be with friends, it just doesn’t feel very healthy at all. Maybe why I’ve been affected by the song so much.

Although it’s the Fiona Apple/Jakob Dylan version that I’ve fallen in love with this week, I can’t go without sharing the original by the Beach Boys themselves. Lots of screaming from the girls in the audience, but I think we still get the sense of it (and a lovely boyish smile from Brian at 0:35).


From 2/9/17

This one is self-explanatory I think. An excerpt from 2017:

Well, it’s been a bit of a week, with no time for heavily researched blog posts. When that happens I usually resort to a web-diary type affair and a few songs have come to mind. First of all, after reading a post written by Jez over at Dubious Towers last weekend, where he recommended watching the film Love & Mercy about the life of Beach Boy Brian Wilson, I did just that. In doing so I fell in love with the album Pet Sounds all over again. I think I knew a bit about the troubled life that Brian had post Beach Boys, but this film really highlighted the nightmare he went through in the 1980s under the supervision of highly controlling psychotherapist Dr Eugene Landy. Fortunately the love of a good woman saved him and joy of joys they are still married today, so a happy ending to a sorry tale.

ps


What was great about this film however was that we got to witness the creative genius that went into producing Pet Sounds back in 1966. The sounds on this album were just that, Brian’s favourite, or pet, sounds and the talented Wrecking Crew that worked with him on that album acknowledged his genius above all others they collaborated with. Brian at this point was still aged only 24. I have featured the wonderful song God Only Knows before in this blog (link here) so here is another from that album, Wouldn’t It Be Nice. Something interesting that came out of this biopic was that contrary to popular belief, The Beach Boys didn’t actually surf!

Wouldn’t It Be Nice by The Beach Boys:


From 18/12/16

This one has already been mentioned in the excerpt above but here is something I wrote after watching the film Love Actually, just before Christmas 2016, at the end of my first full year of blogging. Here it is:

The song I want to feature for this post is the one used for the closing credits of the movie, God Only Knows by The Beach Boys. This is one of my favourite songs and was written by Brian Wilson and Tony Asher. It was released in May 1966 (very close to my favourite year for music 1967) as the eighth track on the wonderful Beach Boys’ album Pet Sounds and is of course from the baroque pop camp, of which I am so fond. The sentiments expressed in the lyrics were not specific to any god, and could be addressed to any “higher power”, being a song apparently about moving forward after loss. Well I don’t know about that because the lyrics seem to infer that moving forward would be nigh impossible. Whatever, it is still one of the most beautiful songs of the 20th century so thank you Brian and the boys for giving it to us.

God Only Knows by The Beach Boys:


Until next time… RIP Brian Wilson.

God Only Knows Lyrics
(Song by Brian Wilson/Tony Asher)

I may not always love you
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
I’ll make you so sure about it

God only knows what I’d be without you
If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me

God only knows what I’d be without you
God only knows what I’d be without you
If you should ever leave me
Well life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me

God only knows what I’d be without you
God only knows what I’d be without you
God only knows