Mid-Life Crisis Songs #100: I Shall Never Play The Dane

When I grew up, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write books and comics and plays and TV shows, and I spent many years of my life trying to crack my way into the magic circle of professional writers, but while they occasionally held the door open and beckoned me in, it was only to slam that door in my face as soon as I tried to set foot over the threshold.

I also wanted to be a radio DJ, back when DJs chose their own records and championed variety, mixing the underdogs with the mega stars and always seeking out that next great tune. I did become a DJ, of sorts, just as freedom of choice was taken away from most radio presenters and market-tested playlists were enforced on the majority of the industry.

Over the years, I found ways to merge my interests with my career. Compromise, to pay the bills. I wrote advertising copy, and when that door was slammed on me (and the room behind the door became so irksome and malodorous that I was glad to see it slam, and had no desire to seek out any similar doors), I became an English teacher. I never wanted to be a teacher, and don’t consider myself a particularly good one, but I’ve been lucky enough in recent years to find a niche, a safe cave in which I can (hopefully) weather out my remaining years of employment.

Some people, when they hit a milestone birthday, create a bucket list of aspirations. Goals, adventures and missions to tick off before they bite the big one. But there is no bucket list for me. My main ambition now is just to keep going as long as I can and help Sam become the man he needs to be to survive the insanity of this world. It was never my ambition to become a father, but Sam is my greatest achievement, the one thing I’m proud of, so I’ll live vicariously through him. That’s my bucket list right there.

As to the other things… Writer? DJ? I’ve got this blog. Set the bar low and you can achieve anything.

 A few weeks back I discovered an act on bandcamp called The Spanish Amanda. Except my aging eyes read it as The Spanish Armada, so that’s the name I used in the post. Fortunately, Huw from The Spanish Amanda has nothing better to do with his time than trawl the Vanarama National League of the blogosphere looking for erratum relating to his band, and he was kind enough to leave me a comment pointing out the error of my ways. Since them, I’ve been sampling a variety of their wares, and was properly KO-ed when I came across the track below. It seemed the perfect tune for this post…

I shall never play the Dane
No, I shall never play the Dane
I shall never lay me down on Jutland sands
Nor shall I dine on honeyed bacon
Overlooking Copenhagen
It’s a shame
Yes, it’s a shame
But I shall never play the Dane
 
So I shall never play the Dane
No, I shall never play the Dane
I can only sit and nurse my Danish blues
For to rampage like a Viking
May have been quite to my liking
It’s a pain
Yes, it’s a pain
That I shall never play the Dane