I mentioned a few weeks back how I wouldn't want to park my car on the streets outside our old radio station when I was working nights, and was always glad of the internal courtyard car park, even though it was a bit laborious getting your car in and out of there. This reminded me of another story...
On the Saturday morning show that I co-hosted in the early 90s, I worked with a couple of colleagues making short comedy sketches and skits. They spent long Friday nights voicing and mixing my silly scripts or coming up with ideas of their own, and most of the time, they weren't getting paid.
One Friday night there was a particularly bad snowfall, but we all still made it into work because we enjoyed this particular creative outlet... and also, I guess none of us had proper Friday night lives back then. Because of the snow, one of my colleagues couldn't be bothered putting his car in the courtyard - he basically drove it into a snowdrift on the street outside and left it.
A couple of hours later we glanced out of the window of the first floor sales office only to see someone sitting inside his Mini. A complete stranger. We wondered what to do: call the police? What chance they'd come out on a night like this? In the end, we decided to go confront this would-be car thief. After all, there were three of us and only one of him.
"What the hell are you doing in my car?" shouted the owner of the Mini.
"I was cold," said the guy in the car.
"So you broke into my car!?"
"I was cold," he repeated.
"I don't care how cold you are - get out of my car!" (Expletives may have been added to this sentence. But more in desperation than aggression.)
"Oh, it's all right for you guys, isn't it," the cold-handed SIWOC-er cried.
(Sitting In Without Owner's Consent?)
"Oh, it's all right for you guys... working in your fancy radio station - cushy job with a big fat salary. I'm a manual labourer, I am! I can't even afford a car to sit in on a Friday night! Look - feel my hands - they've got calluses on them. They've got barnacles!"
Eventually he got out of the car and went on his way. But only after one us had gone inside to "call the police", leaving the other two out there to "keep him talking".
The irony of all this is that to people in the outside world, a "media" job might seem cushy and well-paid. That certainly wasn't the truth back then. None of us were getting paid that night, and when we did get paid, it was on a variable hours contract with no benefits or job security.
Still, he was right about one thing: our hands were completely barnacle-free.
Here's the first song that came to mind today... worth watching the video and playing "spot the special guests". Jarvis! Jason Donovan!
As a rather obvious sequel to last week's Top Ten Songs Everybody Knows... here's ten songs Nobody Knows.
The illustration at the top of the page is one I found online. I certainly don't know anything about Dick Gyllander, and I'd hazard a guess that nobody else reading this would... except he's a jazz musician from Sweden... so one of you might be familiar with his work.
I would defend the Paul Carrack voiced M&TM to the hilt if the synthy 80s arrangements didn't sound so dated now. There's some good songs buried underneath the over-production.
A cautionary tale from the 1920s about a millionaire who ends up on skid row... covered by everyone from Tim Hardin to the Spencer Davis Group to the Allman Brothers to Derek & The Dominoes. I'll take Otis.
The Feelies got together in '76, released 4 albums before 1992, took a bit of time off, then got back together in 2008. This was released in 2011. That's as much as I know. I imagine Brian can tell you more.
Nobody knows why Elvis threw it all away
Nobody knows what Ruby had to hide
Nobody knows why some of us get broken hearts
And some of us find a world that’s clear and bright
A traditional African America slavery song from the 19th century, recorded by many respectable artists including Paul Robeson, Louis Armstrong... and Hefner. But you're gonna have to go some to beat Sam Cooke.
That's 50 Cent, Fiddy to his mates, introducing us to the second half of our countdown of songs relating to numbers. Here's what you had for me this week...
When Sting is finally called to answer for his many, many crimes against songwriting, this is one of those tunes that will spend quite some time in the witness box, particularly these lines...
I'm sure there are hundreds more songs that drop a lyrical mention to the decade that spawned rock 'n' roll, but we haven't got time to go fishing for them, so I'll finish with this... which doesn't appear to have much to do with the decade at all, but - as with 99% of all other Wedding Present tunes - is actually about screwed up relationships...
(Surprisingly, The Swede didn't suggest that last one though he did suggest another Mark E. Smith tunes, Masquerade, for these cheery lyrics: '...like a fish dish the grim visage altered again and again, the fifty percent interest ran out today, account altered...')
And then there was this... my runner-up this week... a clear winner most other weeks. Aimee Mann's debut album takes some beating...
...and with songs like that, Douglas, you're welcome back here anytime.
However, sometimes I just have to go for the obvious choice... so here it is, a tune I've always had a great fondness for.
King of Pedantry Rigid Digit pointed out that Paul Simon only actually names 5 of the 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover...
Just slip out the back, Jack, make a new plan, Stan
Don't need to be coy, Roy, just listen to me
Hop on the bus, Gus, don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee, and get yourself free
...and both he and Alyson wondered what the other 45 may be.
To answer that question, I can direct you towards Carol Brown by Flight of the Conchords, in which Jermaine Clement gives you at least another 19, including...
Loretta broke my heart in a letter
She told me she was leaving and her life would be better
Joan broke it off over the phone
After the tone she left me alone
Jen said she'd never ever see me again
When I saw her again, she said it again
Jan met another man
Liza got amnesia, just forgot who I am
Felicity said there was no electricity
Emily, no chemistry
Fran, ran, Bruce turned out to be a man
Flo had to go, I couldn't go with the flow
Carol Brown just took the bus out of town
But I'm hoping that you'll stick around
Mimi will no longer see me
Brittany, Brittany hit me
Paula, Persephone, Stella, and Stephanie
There must be fifty ways that lovers have left me
Mona, you told me you were in a coma
Tiffany, you said that you had an epiphany
(Bruce is my favourite.)
And while I can't name the other 26 off the top of my head, I can also direct you Okkervil River's Plus Ones, a very fine song which reveals #51 (as well as revealing what happens to the 97th tear and the 100th luftballoon, among others)...
51st way to leave your lover
Admittedly, it doesn't seem to be as gentle
Or as clean as all the others
Still. The problem is all inside your head, it seems to me...
49 next week. I have a feeling these posts are about to get longer and longer...
If you're going to call a song - not to mention a whole album - Masterpiece, then you better be pretty sure of yourself. If you're the Temptations though, at the height of your Motown fame, you can probably get away with it.
This was not intended to be the Temptations' masterpiece though, but that of writer/produce/Motown legend Norman Whitfield. This 14 minute track actually only includes 3 minutes of the Temptations, the rest belongs to Whitfield and Motown session musicians The Funk Brothers. If you're familiar with the extended version of Papa Was A Rolling Stone (which preceded this), you'll know what to expect. Me, I could listen to these guys play all day - 14 minutes goes by in a flash.
It may not feel much like a Pleasant Valley Sunday on the weekend we said goodbye to this gentlemen, but he certainly left us with some amazing musical memories.
RIP, Peter Tork, you and your pals made us all daydream believers...
As I type this on Saturday evening, we've had no takers for this week's number 10... which might be my first win in quite some time. Otherwise, Lynchie took the crown, with admirable support from Charity Chic, Walter, Chris, Rigid Digit and a last minute save by C.
10. King Midas's stooge sounds like the bloke up above.
King Midas turned everything he touched to solid gold.
Mo was one of the Three Stooges.
The gentleman at the top of yesterday's post was David Soul
Here I am a million miles from home. The Indiana wind and rain cut through me. I'm lost and alone. Chilled to the bone. But I'll always have Saturday Snapshots to keep me warm.
Identify ten top tunes and their performing artistes from the clues below, please... or I'll lock you in a Hutch.
Don't give up on us... baby.
10. King Midas's stooge sounds like the bloke up above.
9. Sly Lincoln reveals what you have to do (to get the answer to this clue).
I went to Liverpool yesterday for the first time in my life.
As it's unlikely I'll be going back anytime soon, I thought I'd feature it here today. There are, of course, far too many popular musicians who hail from the city to mention them all here. Suffice it to say that I was slightly disappointed that I didn't see any of them during my brief visit. I'd at least have expected to bump into Sir Thumbs Aloft, gurning at me from the top of the Liver building. Next time, I guess I'll have to go to the Mull of Kintyre.
There are also far too many songs that reference Liverpool in their lyrics to ever name them all here. At least I managed to get in and out of the city without once hearing Ferry Across The Mersey. I decided to restrict myself today to just songs in my collection that feature Liverpool in the title.
Curiously, two of the best ones are by American recording artists who probably only know the city because it's where dem Beatles come from. Dey doo dough, don't dey dough?
All of which leaves me with just two Liverpool songs by actual Liverpool artists... and fortunately, neither of them is by a Beatle. So let's have them both today...
Sad to say that I don't have that Little Jimmy Osmond song in my collection. I know, shame.
A couple of weeks back, Lynchie asked if we'd ever got anyone in to investigate our radio station ghost. An exorcist? A paranormal investigator? A ghostbuster?
Not officially.
But there was Shampoo.
I've changed Shampoo's name slightly, but it sounded pretty similar. That wasn't his real name, of course. His real name was Barry or Trevor or Gordon, something very down-to-earth and ordinary. Shampoo was his psychic name.
Around this time, the presenter on the phone-in show (who was all-out crazy in ways I won't even go into) was looking for ways to boost listening and get more callers. When she invited a local medium in, I was extremely cynical... but credit where credit is due, Shampoo did get people calling. There are a lot of gullible people out there, especially the lonely ones listening to late night radio shows.
Shampoo traded in speaking to the spirit world. He wasn't as extreme as some of the charlatans out there - most of his otherworldly conversations were pretty vague, to be honest, but the people who called in often seemed soothed or reassured by his gentle, non-specific "clairvoyancy".
From the moment I met him, I thought Shampoo was a fraud, and I made my feelings quite clear. When he spoke about seeing people's auras, I jumped in and offered, "I bet when you look at mine it's pitch black, isn't it?" Shampoo just smiled. A wise and extremely patronising response, but we both knew where we stood. He only came in once a month, but after the first couple of times I made sure it was on nights I wasn't working. That was better for both of us.
It didn't take long before someone mentioned the ghost to Shampoo, and of course he claimed to be able to sense something... something... something... It never went much further than that. By this time, the spooky events had died down anyway, so even if Shampoo had been a bona fide medium, all he'd have got would be echoes. Or perhaps Shampoo's arrival was the final straw for our old friend Sidney. I wouldn't have blamed that ghost if he took one look at Shampoo and thought, "to hell with this place - I've had my fun, but it's time to move on..."
One of those songs that could be applied to many, many situations over the years. Let's apply it to Brexit today, shall we?
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking Everybody knows that the captain lied Everybody got this broken feeling Like their father or their dog just died Everybody talking to their pockets Everybody wants a box of chocolates And a long-stem rose Everybody knows
Neil Hannon is so smitten that he's boring everybody to death with his lustful obsession. Brilliant.
I told all of my friends Again and again and again I drove them round the bend So now you’re my only friend I told the passers by I made a small boy cry And I’ll get through to you If it’s the last thing that I do
1. Gary Portnoy - Where Everybody Knows Your Name
Cheers was my favourite sitcom growing up. Its theme song, written by Gary Portnoy & Judy Hart Angelo still brings back warm memories from its first piano notes. Certain sitcoms succeed by fostering a mythical community everyone wants to be a part of: reminiscent yet far superior to our real life friendships. Cheers, for me, is the ultimate example of that and even its theme song contributes to the myth.
Everybody knows I missed some out. Which would you have included?
Being an old X-Files junkie (I even have Fox Mulder's "I Want To Believe" poster on the wall in my office), I've always had a fascination with the "secret" air force base in the Nevada desert where strange things happen involving crashed alien spaceships, experimental aircraft using salvaged alien technology and autopsies of alien corpses. [Redacted by the U.S. government.)
Let's start this week with a couple of tunes that escaped from Area 51. Curiously, both are instrumentals. Perhaps their lyrics were redacted too?
Back in the real world, and onto your suggestions, the most obvious of which this week was suggested - not by The Swede - but by Martin...
Highway 51 Blues, by Bob Dylan which, in its guitar motif at least, seems to owe a debt to the Everly Brothers.
Not a Dylan original that, it was written by Curtis Jones. Personally, I always get it mixed up with Highway 61 Revisited... too many numbered highways in the Dylan canon.
Martin also offered the following, helpfully including links to make my life easier...
The atypical I Move On by Cowboy Junkies contains the line "51 years, a child upon the Earth, trying to find the answers without digging in the dirt..."
12:51 by The Strokes sounds exactly how you'd expect (no bad thing).
...and one more...
Koka Kola by The Clash starts with the line "In the gleaming corridors of the 51st floor..."
Lynchie, meanwhile, claims to have been eagerly awaiting number 51 in this countdown so that he could suggest this...
They got a vintage Victrola 1951 Full of my favorite records that I grew up on They got ole Hank and Lefty and there's B24 Set 'em up Joe and play "Walking The Floor" Set 'em up Joe and play "Walking The Floor"
I'll definitely save that for when I do my second volume of jukebox songs.
But it seemed clear we had to deal with Little Britain this week, or the 51st State of the United States as we've often cruelly been dubbed due to the "special relationship" which isn't really that special anymore. A number of songwriters have commented on this, including...
And, of course, these guys, this week's unanimous winners thanks to block-voting, hanging chads and Russian facebook interference from Charity Chic, C (obviously!), Lynchie and others...
Next week: we're halfway there! Numero cinquanta! Your suggestions are welcome as always. No need to be coy, Roy...
I almost didn't have a post today. I realise that's hardly the end of the world, and I've let days gone by without posts before, but this time was different. Because I had posts... only other people had already written then.
Originally I'd planned on doing a Grumpy Old Men / 2019 Contenders post about the new Specials album, but Rigid Digit and John Medd said pretty much everything I have to say about that at the moment (for the record, my opinion falls somewhere in between theirs - RD seems to like it a lot, while John Medd questions whether it's actually The Specials at all, more a reformed Funboy 3 who realised the name of their earlier band would make more headlines).All I can add to that is that while I enjoyed the record, I did feel there were times that it came across as a Guardian journalist's wet dream. The tracklist runs like a checklist of society's ills and sometimes the message seems more important than the music. I don't object to any of the songs on their own, but crammed together on one disc it does feel a bit like being lectured by a 6th former at times. Maybe it's the grumpy old man in me... that's probably why I like this track best of all.
With that idea abandoned, I thought about featuring another Long Song as last Monday morning... until I realised (I had to check!) that Drew had already featured both of them. (I'd already written one of them, but I'll spare you... go read Drew's instead.)
All of which led me to the Bahamas, a late musical discovery from 2018 that may have troubled my end of year countdown if I'd heard it sooner.
Canadian musician Afie Jurvanen, aka Bahamas, has been making records since 2009, but his fourth album, Earthtones, is the first one to be picked up on my radar. He obviously listened to a lot of Prince as a kid but also has a cheerfully tongue-in-cheek approach to his lyrics, reminiscent of John Grant or Father John Misty without the egomaniacal side. Hopefully it'll brighten up your Monday morning (what's left of it)...
When it comes to Saturday Snapshots, you guys Don't Stop Till You Get Enough. And you didn't do Bad yesterday at all. It's good to know You Are Not Alone when you're playing this game, particularly this week as Alyson & Lynchie fought it out for top spot (I think Lynchie just clinched it), leaving Charity Chic, Walter, Chris and Rigid Digit to hoover up the leftovers. Thanks for playing, guys.
