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

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

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 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.

Kris Kristofferson 1936 to 2024

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

Carole King and The Brill Building: Another Special Place In Time

We are nearing the end of summer, always a sad time of year for me. I’m a great fan of daylight and soon there will be more hours of darkness in any 24 hour period. All those activities best suited to the great outdoors will be on hold for another year, and we’ll be tucked up inside keeping cosy. Oh no, that’s right, this winter we’ll struggle to keep cosy as the thermostats will be firmly turned down, but hey, that’s another post for another day.

I’ve run quite a few ‘series’ since starting this place but I’m all out of workable ideas at the moment, which is a bit annoying, because I don’t have anything to return to and augment. As we are nearing the start of September I thought a series of posts about months of the year could be something to focus on (September seems to pop up often in a song title), but it turns out some of the other months have not been as inspirational for songwriters. Inevitably, one of the first songs I stumbled upon was this one by a very young Carole King, It Might as Well Rain Until September from 1962.

It Might as Well Rain Until September by Carole King:


I’ve always liked the song, although it’s not really about the month of September at all, but about how the world is no longer a beautiful place because the singer’s love interest is not around. As far as they are concerned the fine weather of the summer might as well be replaced with grey, rainy days. Thinking back I was often of the same opinion when I was a teenager (and this song was definitely aimed at teenagers), as the routines of term-time were often replaced with lots of time spent on your own, as your friends were either off on holiday with their families, or scattered around the country, the new academic year not starting again until September. If you’d found romance during term-time, the summer break was often not your friend.

But of course the Carole King that wrote this song with her husband Gerry Goffin, is not the same Carole King that has appeared on these pages before. That would be the Carole who by the early ’70s had moved to Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles, and had massive success with her 1971 album Tapestry. No indeed, this Carole was the girl from Brooklyn who was a bit of a musical genius and at age 16 had turned up at the Brill Building in Manhattan with a bunch of songs oven-ready for the teen market.


I have often heard of the Brill Building as back in the early ’60s, after Elvis had enlisted (and they thought rock ‘n’ roll was over) but before the British Invasion had begun, it was the place where songwriting teams flourished, producing hit after hit record. The ground floor of the building was home to the Brill family clothing store, but the upper floors were rented out to people in the music industry. Music publishers like Don Kirshner were based there and offices were kitted out with cubicles, each containing a piano, a bench and a chair where songwriters could partner up, one person writing the lyrics and the other coming up with the music. This was songwriting to order, but the songs were aimed at the lucrative new teen market and they were given to some of the many girl groups that had formed in New York City at that time (the Shirelles, the Shangri-Las, the Ronettes and the Chiffons) and also to many of the up-and-coming teen idols (Bobby Darin, Bobby Vee and Gene Pitney).

 The Brill Building is located at 1619 Broadway on 49th Street, in the NYC borough of Manhattan

Before starting this blog, I was often unaware of who had written a particular song as I had always been more interested in the artist who performed it. As time went by however the same names kept popping up, and many of those names were songwriting partnerships who first got together in the Brill Building:

Burt Bacharach and Hal David
Neil Sedaka and Howard Greenfield
Ellie Greenwich and Jeff Barry
Gerry Goffin and Carole King
Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil
Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller
Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman

A lot of famous faces in that montage above and impossible to name them all individually. To finish off I’ll add another couple of clips of songs that came to life in the Brill Building. I know I was bemoaning the end of summer in the opening paragraph, but today has indeed been a very fine, sunny day here in the North of Scotland. I don’t think that’s the kind of fine day The Chiffons were singing about in 1963 but a perfect example of the kind of songs Goffin and King were writing for the girl groups of the Brill Building.

One Fine Day by The Chiffons:


As this post has predominantly focussed on Carole King, it would seem silly not to end with the song Neil Sedaka wrote about her. They had both gone to the same high school in Brooklyn and had briefly dated (when she was still a Carol without the ‘e’). Oh! Carol was Neil’s first big domestic hit and the song also reached the No. 3 spot in the UK Singles Chart in 1959.

Oh! Carol by Neil Sedaka:


Yet again I’ve kind of gone way off piste on this one but once I’d listened to Carole’s September song I decided to find out more about that place in NYC which was a veritable music factory in the late ’50s/early ’60s. Most of us of a certain age have grown up listening to songs that we may or may not have known started life in The Brill Building. I like these posts where I actually take the time to find out geographically where these special places were/still are located. Right there in Midtown Manhattan it seems, just along from Tin Pan Alley where the sheet music of an earlier era had started life.

As for my series about songs referring to months of the year, I’ve not abandoned the idea yet, so if you do have any September songs you’d like me to write about, do let me know. For the record, the Earth, Wind and Fire one has popped up around here a couple of times before, but there will be others I’m sure.

Until next time…

It Might As Well Rain Until September Lyrics
(Song by Carole King/Gerry Goffin)

What shall I write?
What can I say?
How can I tell you how much I miss you?

The weather here has been as nice as it can be
Although it doesn’t really matter much to me
For all the fun I’ll have while you’re so far away
It might as well rain until September

I don’t need sunny skies for thing I have to do
‘Cause I stay home the whole day long and think of you
As far as I’m concerned each day’s a rainy day
So It might as well rain until September

My friends look forward to their picnics on the beach
Yes everybody loves the summertime
But you know darling while your arms are out of reach
The summer isn’t any friend of mine

It doesn’t matter whether skies are grey or blue
It’s raining in my heart ’cause I can’t be with you
I’m only living for the day you’re home to stay
So It might as well rain until September
September, September, oh
It might as well rain until September

‘We May Never Pass This Way Again’ – RIP Jim Seals

It’s become a bit of a thing in our house that rarely an hour, heck 10 minutes goes by, without me saying, ‘I’ve written about that song’. Yes, the songs I revisit around here are generally well-known classics that regularly pop up on mainstream radio, and on the soundtracks to television dramas. Every now and again a lesser known song I’ve written about pops up however, and that happened the other day when I heard We May Never Pass This Way Again by Seals & Crofts on the radio, a song that was new to me around five years ago and one I immediately fell in love with. It wasn’t until the folowing day that I realised it had been played because one half of the duo, Jim Seals, had died, or passed as we euphemistically like to call it.

Regulars around here will know that I’m a bit of a fan of 1970s soft rock and Seals and Crofts fitted that genre nicely. It wasn’t until I delved into them a bit more that I discovered all sorts of connections to other songs written about earlier on in this blog. It was a fun post to write so I’m going to share it again. Jim was 80 when he died, so not one of those tragic departures like we’ve had of late, but of course for his family, friends and fans he will be sadly missed. RIP Jim Seals.

Seals and Crofts, England Dan and ‘We May Never Pass This Way Again

First published 25th July 2017

Early on in my days of blogging, long before I kind of lost the plot as to what it was all supposed to be about (that would be a nostalgic journey through the tracks of my years), I covered the soft rock classic I’d Really Love To See You Tonight by England Dan and John Ford Coley (link here). My previous post before I had a break for the summer featured Summer Breeze by The Isley Brothers which has always been a favourite of mine, but, whilst doing a bit of research as to its provenance I made a wonderful discovery. The song was not indeed written by the Isley Brothers as I had always thought but by the writing duo Seals and Crofts, Jim Seals being the older brother of Dan Seals, or England Dan as he became known because of his great love for the Beatles.

Although from Texas, that nickname was given to him by big brother Jim after he briefly affected an English (or was it Liverpudlian?) accent. And this is what my blog was always supposed to be about – finding out the backstory to the songs and artists of my youth. There is so much more information out there now (ok some might be a bit dubious) but back in the day, all we had was Jackie magazine and a few more worthy publications – we lived in blissful ignorance, which was perhaps a good thing in light of a few revelations of late, but as you may have guessed I am a bit of a rock & pop ‘facts and figures’ aficionado, so for me, this brave new digital world is just perfect.

So, what follows on from Summer Breeze? Well by good fortune I heard a song on the car radio the other day by none other than Seals and Crofts and was immediately smitten by it – Like little brother’s output, the music of Jim Seals and his singing partner Darrell ‘Dash’ Crofts, fitted nicely into the soft rock camp which now seems to have become a bit of a derogatory term but when it comes to rock I have always preferred mine to be of the soft rather than the hard variety anyway (and my listening to be easy as opposed to difficult). These genres and labels we give music truly baffle me as at the end of the day there is music of great quality and music that really is a bit rubbish, but there is also music that just gives lots of pleasure, to lots of people, and this song does that for me. The Carpenters whom I featured recently (link here) also came from the soft rock camp and the passage of time, and Karen’s tragic death, seems to have erased any preconceptions many had about their output. When it comes to music of quality, it doesn’t get much better than The Carpenters.

We May Never Pass This Way Again by Seals and Crofts:

The song We May Never Pass This Way (Again), from 1973, didn’t ever enter the UK Singles Chart but it did reach No. 21 on the Billboard Hot 100. I can honestly say I don’t remember ever having listened to Seals and Crofts before (neither can Mr WIAA) but theirs was very much the kind of music that was all pervasive during my teenage years. Originating in southern California, soft rock was a style that largely featured acoustic guitars and slow-to-mid tempos – simple, melodic songs with big, lush productions. I very much doubt if we called it soft rock back then but when listening to the radio from the early ’70s onward much of what we heard was by bands and artists such as Anne Murray, John Denver, Linda Ronstadt, Rod Stewart, Carole King, Cat Stevens, James Taylor, Toto, England Dan & John Ford Coley, the Eagles, Chicago, America and the reformed Fleetwood Mac whose ‘Rumours’ was the best-selling album of the decade. In the late ’70s, prominent soft rock acts included Boz Scaggs, Michael McDonald, Christopher Cross and Captain & Tennille. A lot of albums were brought in to school and exchanged amongst friends for the very naughty practice of home-taping. Good to know such illicit activity doesn’t happen today!

Since we are featuring big brother Jim’s song in this post, I can’t leave little brother Dan out, so here is another soft rock delight, this time from the late ’70s. Love Is The Answer was written by Todd Rundgren and was a hit for England Dan and John Ford Coley in 1979. Although I loved this soundtrack to my teenage years, we weren’t really awash with visuals in those days and YouTube was still a few decades away. This sounds really shallow but I am quite glad now as somehow these lush love-songs sound better when you don’t think of the moustachioed pair who sang them. My bedroom walls at the time may have had an array of good-looking boys on them, but when it just came down to the lyrics, who wouldn’t want ‘a ticket to paradise’?


Until next time….

We May Never Pass This Way (Again) Lyrics
(Song by Jim Seals/Dash Crofts)

Life, so they say, is but a game and we let it slip away.
Love, like the Autumn sun, should be dyin’ but it’s only just begun.
Like the twilight in the road up ahead, they don’t see just where we’re goin’.
And all the secrets in the Universe, whisper in our ears

And all the years will come and go, take us up, always up.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
We may never pass this way again.
Dreams, so they say, are for the fools and they let ’em drift away.

Peace, like the silent dove, should be flyin’ but it’s only just begun.
Like Columbus in the olden days, we must gather all our courage.
Sail our ships out on the open sea. Cast away our fears
And all the years will come and go, and take us up, always up.

We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
We may never pass this way again.
So, I want to laugh while the laughin’ is easy. I want to cry if it makes it worthwhile.
We may never pass this way again, that’s why I want it with you.

‘Cause, you make me feel like I’m more than a friend.
Like I’m the journey and you’re the journey’s end.

We may never pass this way again, that’s why I want it with you, baby.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again

The Beatles, A Hard Day’s Night and ‘If I Fell’

Last time I mentioned that the hard graft part of my college course is now over, so to reward myself I indulged in a bit of a wallow in the distant past, revisiting old footage of the Beatles at the height of Beatlemania. This came about because I’d recently re-read my Christmas stocking book, Nothing Is Real: The Beatles Were Underrated And Other Sweeping Statements About Pop, by David Hepworth. A bit of non-fiction was needed as a foil to the very literary books I’ve had to dissect of late and there is nothing I enjoy more than a rock and pop anthology. The first section of the book contained essays on the Beatles, and yet again (I’ve mentioned some of David’s other books around here before), I learnt so much that was new to me.


I knew the Beatles had been in existence for some time before their breakthrough year 1963, but it wasn’t until Ringo Starr was recruited in September 1962 that they truly became a group (they weren’t called bands in those days). He was the best drummer in Liverpool at the time and the rest of the lads liked him, so once it was decided that Pete Best had to go, in those days before house telephones, Brian Epstein turned up at his family home in one of the less salubrious parts of that city to ask if he wanted to join the group. The rest as they say is history. Ringo was more than happy to change his slicked back hair to mop-top style, and wear the smart suits Brian had insisted the lads adopt. His unique style of drumming was pivotal in creating the Beatles’ sound and a lot of that was down to the fact he was born left-handed, but his superstitious grandmother wouldn’t let him use his left hand so he learned to play on a right-handed kit. It meant his route round the drum kit was a bit different to that of other drummers which is why other bands found it so hard to copy their sound exactly.


Anyway, I had enjoyed reading all these snippets in David’s book so much, I decided to search for moving images of the Beatles on some of the many avenues available to us on our tellies nowadays. It didn’t take long for me to find their 1964 film A Hard Day’s Night (on Amazon Prime), and what a joy it was to watch it again straight after reading the book, as there was so much more to look out for now that I knew more of the Fab Four backstories.

Within the first 10 seconds, both George and Ringo have fallen over!

The film has a plot of sorts, but it was essentially about Beatlemania and was a vehicle to showcase some of the songs written especially for the soundtrack. It was early reality television, where we saw the lads lark around in between rehearsals, exhibiting their individual personalities, but best of all they sang those simple (but not simple) love songs that were aimed at their young teenage market. Every time I watch the film I warm most to this song, If I Fell, possibly because it’s not one of the ones that’s become overfamiliar but also because we get to see them ‘at work’ interacting with each other whilst they rehearse for the show. I hadn’t noticed before but I also like how the beat to the song comes from Ringo simply tapping the metal side of the snare drum with his drumstick (0:32) – Maybe this is ‘a thing’ in the world of drumming, but I’d never taken heed of it before.

If I Fell by the Beatles:


It’s an accident of birth of course, but had I been born ten years earlier I would have been just the right demographic for Beatlemania, but I wasn’t, I only had Rollermania which was a pale imitation. What I noticed most about watching the film this week however, was just how much joy exuded from the screen. The Fab Four were still finding their feet as a band experiencing something that had never occurred before in the UK. Their fans adored them and they thought they were the luckiest guys in the world.

I knew if I looked hard enough I would find them, and I did. Here are seven of a series of 60 trading cards issued by A&BC, with chewing gum, back in 1964. I thought they might be worth something, but once I visited the ‘well-known online auction site’ I realised there are still many of them out there. I’m pretty sure they weren’t bought by me as there is no way my mum allowed me to have chewing gum at age four (‘if you swallow it it’ll stick to the inside of your tummy’), so I reckon they probably came via my older cousins who often came to stay in the summer holidays. Nice little bit of memorabilia though, and perfect for my wallow in all things Beatles-related this last week.

Trading cards from a set issued by A&BC in 1964


Until next time…

If I Fell
(Song by John Lennon/Paul McCartney)

If I fell in love with you
Would you promise to be true
And help me understand
Cause I’ve been in love before
And I found that love was more
Than just holding hands

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start
That you would love me more than her

If I trust in you oh please
Don’t run and hide
If I love you too oh please

Don’t hurt my pride like her
Cause I couldn’t stand the pain
And I would be sad if our new love was in vain

So I hope you see that I
Would love to love you
And that she will cry

When she learns we are two
Cause I couldn’t stand the pain
And I would be sad if our new love was in vain

So I hope you see that I
Would love to love you
And that she will cry
When she learns we are two
If I fell in love with you

Back to Business As Usual at the BRITS, Adele, Ed and Little Simz

It’s going to be a really busy few months for me, so I might not be posting quite as regularly. My college course has not been what I’d hoped for, mostly down to the pandemic. I’ve not been inside our local college for nearly two years and it seems they are more than happy to keep things that way. I’m therefore going to try and complete this semester’s module as best I can from home, and then pick up the resulting qualification, but an awful lot of research/reading/writing to be done before then. I’ve enjoyed all the modules so far but this one, quite rightly, is a highly academic one, so a bit more graft involved.

As we are now in the month of February, we are well and truly into Awards Season. I was pleased to see that the film Belfast, written about last time, is up for many BAFTAs and Academy Awards. Hope it does well although I have a sneaking suspicion it might hog the runner-up spot in most categories. We’ll have to wait and see. This week (here in the UK) we had the BRIT Awards back on telly in all their former glory. Unlike last year, the word ‘pandemic’ wasn’t even mentioned, and not a mask or a socially distanced performance graced our screens. After the last couple of years where such shows have had to be either cancelled altogether or held in a limited capacity in open spaces such as Railway Stations (93rd Academy Awards), it was the biggest sign that life is hopefully going to return to a semblance of normality this year.

Unlike Mr WIAA, who is not a fan of award shows, I have always watched the BRITs as that’s when I find out about some of the new artists/bands who would otherwise never have crossed my radar. This blog is very much a retrospective one, where I revisit songs from my youth, but important not to get totally stuck in the past and over the last few years I’ve been blown away by some of the live performances on the show – Stormzy in 2018 and Dave in 2020. As a middle-aged female living in the North of Scotland I know nothing of what life must be like for young, black, urban males but when you watch these guys in action, they definitely help you understand.

This year, the performance that stood out for me most was by Little Simz – She won the award for Best New Artist (although she has been around for a while it seems). The actress Emma Corrin also appeared on stage with her in a very spectacular hat. Together they gave us Introvert and Woman.

Introvert and Woman by Little Simz:


The big change this year was that the awards were gender neutral with no Best Male or Best Female categories at all. This made room for some new categories which included Best Dance Act (Becky Hill), Best Rock/Alternative Artist (Sam Fender), Best Hip Hop/Grime/Rap Act (Dave) and Best Pop/R&B Act (Dua Lipa). I’m afraid when it comes to genres such as these I come a bit unstuck and would probably fail spectacularly if it came to categorising songs in such a way myself, but the winners of these new awards certainly were pleased, some deliriously so (Becky Hill?), so in turn I was pleased for them.

Another big change this year was that I managed to persuade Mr WIAA to watch the show with me. “There’s always a really big memorable moment,” I told him. “From Jarvis Cocker’s very justified storming of MJ’s stage, to Madonna in her cape falling down those steps, to Geri’s Union Jack dress, to Freddie’s last appearance…”. Yes, lots of memorable moments over the years, but as luck would have it, not this year, so I had to eat my words.

The really big winner was Adele, so a lot of the industry ‘suits’ as she called them at a previous BRITs would have been happy, but all a bit safe and predictable. She lives in LA now, stages big shows in Las Vegas (although that’s a whole other story) and looks nothing like the Adele we first saw on the show back in 2008. Was all a bit disappointing and samey, in my humble opinion.

The girl’s come a long way, but I miss the old Brit School Adele:

Although I totally agreed with the move to gender neutral awards (needs to happen in the world of film too I think), one key difference between the vast majority of men and women at the BRITs was the footwear they chose to wear on the night. I couldn’t help but notice that many of the women were sporting shoes that were detrimental to their health. Adele’s spikey heels got caught up in her long dress when climbing the steps to pick up her first award and poor Anne-Marie fell down some steps in her platform boots whilst performing Kiss My (Uh-Oh). Not quite as spectacular as Madonna’s tumble a few year’s back but she still took a tumble, and landed on her Uh-Oh. She was a trooper however and carried on as if nothing had happened. We’re still a long way off from equality in footwear it seems, which is a shame, as at my age I regret many of my younger self’s footwear choices. My younger self would of course have ignored my older self’s advice, and there lies the rub.

Poor Anne-Marie took a tumble

Like Adele, he’s been around a long time now, and he’s not for everyone, but I do still have a soft spot for Ed Sheeran. He too looks a bit more polished than the lad who first rolled up at the BRITs back in 2012, but whatever you think of his music there’s no denying he knows how to write a successful pop song. He didn’t win big on Tuesday night like Adele, but he did win the award for Songwriter of the Year and I enjoyed his performance of The Joker and the Queen. Many a metaphor/pun can be found in a pack of cards it seems. I was trying to work out what it reminded me of, and of course it’s music from a classic film score, which is what was intended.

The Joker and the Queen by Ed Sheeran:

I really should be doing college work today but procrastination came along in the form of this blog post. Exactly what used to happen first time around, although there weren’t blogs back then, or an internet, or Netflix, just lots and lots of fellow students to be distracted by. Changed days. I’ve just heard back from my course tutor who tells me I can keep going with the course one module at a time – I really thought there was a time-limit on it but they don’t want to lose any students it seems, even ancient ones like myself. Decisions to be made.

I enjoyed the BRITs this year, for the many performances, but also because it felt as if things are truly getting back to normal again. Lord knows we all need that.

Until next time…

The Joker and the Queen Lyrics
(Song by Ed Sheeran/Johnny McDaid/Samuel Elliot Roman/Fred Gibson)

How was I to know?
It’s a crazy thing
I showed you my hand
And you still let me win

And who was I to say
That this was meant to be?
The road that was broken
Brought us together

And I know you could fall for a thousand kings
And hearts that would give you a diamond ring
When I fold, you see the best in me
The joker and the queen

I was upside down
From the outside in
You came to the table
And you went all in

With a single word
And a gentle touch
You turned a moment
Into forever

And I know you could fall for a thousand kings
And hearts that could give you a diamond ring
When I fold, you see the best in me
The joker and the queen

And I know you could fall for a thousand kings
And hearts that would give you a diamond ring
When I folded, you saw the best in me
The joker and the queen
The joker and queen

Postscript:

Before I started writing this one I looked back over the years to my previous BRIT Awards posts. It seems I wrote something about all of them except the 2019 show. Remiss of me but perhaps also a bit of an unremarkable one that passed without incident.

What I do remember about that show however was that Scottish DJ Calvin Harris (along with Dua Lipa) won the award for British Single of the Year. He appeared on the night and it occurred to me that had he not, I wouldn’t have known what the world’s highest paid DJ, a Scot, looked like. Remarkable how anonymous DJs can be. The standout collaboration that year was when Calvin manned the decks whilst Dua, Sam Smith and Rag’n’Bone Man sang. Only three years too late but I give you a medley of Giant, Promises and One Kiss.

One Kiss by Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa:

Friendships, Bob Dylan and ‘Baby, Stop Crying’

Last time I announced that Thursday was to be my new regular day for blogging, but last week’s Thursday came and went without anything new from me at all and unless I quickly get my act together, the same will happen again this week. I have the will, it’s just that with the easing of restrictions many of us feel the need to catch up with those friends who have been neglected over the last 15 months, and I am no exception. There have been many visits, lunch dates, film nights, and a sneaky wee Eurovision get-together (something so utterly uncool that it has almost become cool by default), so I have been somewhat time poor. Not complaining, of course, just offering up an explanation for my absence.

Last week Bob Dylan turned 80 and much was made of it on the various newsfeeds and on social media. Who would have thought back in 1961, when a young folk singer called Robert Zimmerman rolled up in Greenwich Village, New York, he would still be touring and making new music 60 years later. Many of his generation have sadly fallen by the wayside, but he is one of a small band of artists from that time who seem to have been able to just keep on going.

Two of Bob’s songs have appeared around here before, performed by other people for television soundtracks (here and here). His son Jakob has even appeared (link here), but so far no Bob. Time therefore to right that wrong. There are many songs I could feature but I’m going to pick Baby, Stop Crying from 1978 because it was on the album Street Legal owned by the girl who was my best friend back then. I’ve written about her here before because she features in so many of my musical memories. Between the ages of 17 and 20 we were joined at the hip and together we experienced the final years of school, first romances, holiday jobs, heading off to university, Interrailing, and so much more. When I hear this song I am transported to her mum and dad’s little back sitting room which housed the music centre and the sofa bed I often availed myself of after a night out. It was dated (the sofa bed) and had come from the front living room of the house they had recently moved from, but when you are 18, having such a space to hang out in with friends, is priceless.

Baby, Stop Crying by Bob Dylan:

I think it’s because I’ve been making a really big effort to catch up with people of late that I’ve been thinking of my old friend so much. I can no longer catch up with her because she died 20 years ago at the very young age of 41, which still makes me really sad. The shared memories of those formative years can never again be discussed, and laughed about, but for the time being at least I still have them, and hold them dear.

As for the song, I knew it had made it to the Top 20 of the UK Singles Chart, as back in 1978 that was how girls like us found out about new music. I can’t say I have ever been a fan of Bob’s voice, but my friend obviously had no problem with it, as I know she went on to buy more of his albums. As a student of English Literature she perhaps also admired his lyrics, him being a future recipient of that Nobel Prize for being clever with words.

At face value it seems to be a simple song about trying to get a woman to stop crying, but then a gun puts in an appearance, which adds a sinister dimension. Is the narrator the ‘bad man’ or is it someone else? Commenting on the content of this song, Bob once said, ‘The man in that song has his hand out and is not afraid of getting it bit.’ If anyone has ever worked out the meaning, please share your thoughts.

So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – I don’t know about you but I know I have been overly cavalier about friendships in the past, casting them aside for new ones when life changes occur, not realising that some come along only once in a lifetime. That’s how I still feel about my old Bob Dylan-loving friend, and when she died I wrote to her parents telling them as much.

I have done a lot of catching up over the last few weeks, which has been nice, but having moved geographically half way through my life, and having changed jobs a fair few times before finally calling it a day, I no longer have really old friends in my everyday life, which is not the case for a lot of people I know. Mr WIAA is of course my very best friend but perhaps I take him for granted, living with him on a day-to-day basis. (Note to self: must remember not to do that.) Funnily enough, since starting this blog I seem to have made many new friends of the virtual nature, whom I’m in regular contact with via the comment boxes – A lovely little bonus from this hobby of ours. If I keep going, you may one day become some of my oldest friends. A nice thought to end on, and with the easing of restrictions, that long-awaited bloggers summit might finally become a reality.

Until next time…

Baby, Stop Crying Lyrics
(Song by Bob Dylan)

You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe
But you’re back were you belong
Go get me my pistol, babe
Honey, I can’t tell right from wrong.

Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying
You know, I know the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying ’cause it’s tearing up my mind.

Go down to the river, babe
Honey, I will meet you there
Go down to the river, babe
Honey, I will pay your fare.

Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying
You know, I know the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying ’cause it’s tearing up my mind.

If you’re looking for assistance, babe
Or if you just want some company
Or if you just want a friend you can talk to
Honey, come and see about me.

Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying
You know, I know the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying ’cause it’s tearing up my mind.

You been hurt so many times
And I know what you’re thinking of
Well, I don’t have to be no doctor, babe
To see that you’re madly in love.

Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying
You know, I know the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying ’cause it’s tearing up my mind.

Photo Challenges, Paul Heaton and The Beautiful South

Last Saturday, for my weekly blog post, I decided to just sit down at my keyboard and type, with no particular plan in mind. Most bizarrely I ended up back in the 1920s which I hadn’t anticipated happening at all, especially as I have a massive list of ideas sitting in ‘Posts Pending’. That’s often the problem though, you have so many ideas, you can’t decide between them and end up totally off piste.

Talking of piste, it’s been rather snowy around here of late and to make the daily walk (for exercise) more interesting, I’ve had a bit of a photo challenge going on with a friend who lives in Yorkshire. We choose a theme for the day and take some fitting pictures, exchanging them before 9pm. No prizes of course, and no prizes for guessing what the theme was on this particular day, but it has made the walks a bit more fun as even they are becoming a tad monotonous after ten months of lockdowns and restrictions.

Old Red Eyes Is Back by The Beautiful South:


Great excuse to include something by The Beautiful South as they don’t seem to have popped up around here before, which is odd as they were one of my favourite bands back in the day. But by back in the day I mean when I was in my thirties and forties, and as we all know, however much we appreciate and enjoy the music of our more mature years, it never affects us in quite the same way as when we are young and in our teens. I’m no psychologist, or neuroscientist, but there are certain songs from my teenage years that can still render me an emotional wreck, all these years later. Apparently it’s a neuronic command and no matter how sophisticated our tastes might become, our brains stay jammed on those songs we obsessed over during the drama of adolescence.

Here’s something I’ve never mentioned around here before but in 1989 I got my first VCR and over the next few years, just as we used to do with cassette recorders in earlier decades, I ‘taped’ my favourite songs from TOTP on a Thursday night. I still have many chunky VCR tapes in the loft with all this material, but a bit pointless keeping them really, as we now have access to pretty much everything we might want to watch at the touch of a screen. The reason I mention all that, is because the very first song I ever recorded on my new machine back in 1989 was You Keep It All In by The Beautiful South. Hundreds of songs would follow it, but you always remember your first. (Bit of a messy start to this clip but fine from 0:20.)

You Keep It All In by The Beautiful South:


The Beautiful South rose from the ashes of another band I have very fond memories of, The Housemartins. Former bandmates Paul Heaton and Dave Hemingway, along with Briana Corrigan, formed The Beautiful South in 1988 and despite a frequent change in female vocalist over the years, kept going until 2007. In contrast The Housemartins were only in the spotlight for two years but who could forget this bit of animated fun, Happy Hour from 1986 – Don’t be fooled by the still, as a more lively video clip would be hard to find.

Common to all the songs shared today is that they were written by Paul Heaton who has been described in The Guardian as ‘one of our finest songwriters: his music reveals an exuberant ear for melody, his lyrics a keen eye and a brilliant wit‘. Paul has kept diaries throughout the years and I remember him once producing some of them when being interviewed on telly. They are a beautiful hand-written record of his years with the above mentioned bands complete with doodles. He certainly is a wordsmith which is reflected in his lyrics. Old Red Eyes Is Back is a play on words, from the Sinatra album Ol’ Blue Eyes Is Back, and is about the curse of alcoholism. As for Happy Hour it apparently ‘hammers away at the hypocrisy and sexism of young British business types on the move‘. Very apt for 1986, the era of the ‘yuppie’, when it was written.

Paul Heaton

So, ‘What’s It All About?’ – I’ve gone and done it again. Like alphabetising your record collection rather than tackling a really tricky piece of work, my long list of Posts Pending has not been eaten into for a second week in a row. But, sharing my red-themed pictures has somehow led me to share some Paul Heaton songs, which is a bonus. I may never have had his poster on my bedroom wall, and his lyrics don’t hark back to my own teenage dramas, but he has provided me with a fine set of songs for my digital library, ones I really should revisit more often.

As for that box of old VCR tapes in the loft, I’m really going to have to do something about them aren’t I, but I think I’ll keep that very first one where You Keep It All In was the inaugural song. Being able to rewatch TOTP later in the week was quite something back in the 1980s and this new technology meant we could do that. Compared to what we have at our disposal nowadays it seems positively antiquated, like using a Charles Babbage computer to work from home. Yes, the youngsters of today really are spoilt but I have an inkling the joy I felt at being able to record my favourite songs on video, was as great as anything they might experience today. It’s all relative.

Until next time…

You Keep It All In Lyrics
(Song by Paul Heaton, Dave Rotheray)

You know your problem
You keep it all in
You know your problem
You keep it all in

That’s right
The conversation we had last night
When all I wanted to do was
Knife you in the heart
I kept it all in

You know your problem
You keep it all in
You know your problem
You keep it all in

Midnight, a husband getting ready to fight
A daughter sleeps alone with the light
Turned on, she hears but
Keeps it all in

Just like that murder in ’73
Just like that robbery in ’62
With all these things that have happened to me
I kept them all in
Why do you keep on telling me now

You know your problem
You keep it all in
You know your problem
You keep it all in

That’s sweet
That conversation we had last week
When you gagged and bound me up to my seat
You’re right, I do
I keep it all in