4. Don't make her... You wouldn't like her when she's...
Fans of the old Incredible Hulk TV show will recall that Bill Bixby frequently told investigative reporter Jack McGee: "Mr. McGee, don't make me Ann Lee... you wouldn't like me when I'm Ann Lee."
I will confess that I had never heard of Ann Lee before compiling this list. However, I was short on ladies this week and Ann did get to #2 in the charts in 1999 with the two times tune above.
3. That sunshine's a scorcher, Superman.
Donovan sang about a Sunshine Superman. Jason, as seen above (at #15, if not in the photo) was a Scorcher.
Another one of those Jason Donovan songs that me and my mate Richard used to sing along to on the school bus when we were 16. Richard was a big fan of the Pet Shop Boys and The Smiths. I liked Springsteen and Huey Lewis. We would have told you we were just being ironic. But were we really?
2. Living in Portugal, DuBois.
Our resident Maths teacher lives in Portugal. Benson Dubois.
***Before I start this week's Top Ten: a plea for help.***
Last night, my blogroll disappeared from the sidebar of my site. I have no idea where it went, but all efforts to recover it have been in vain. I have tried my best to reconstruct it from memory (and via the blogroll of my old blog, Sunset Over Slawit, although many of those links are long gone now) but I'm sure there are many favourites I've forgotten. So if you know that I'm a reader of your blog and usually list it to the right... but you can't see it there now... please leave a reminder in the comments box. If you're a music blogger reading this site but I DON'T read your blog, it may be that I just don't know of its existence. Anyway, the same goes for you guys... just leave me a link and I'll add you to Rol's roll.
I calculate that this must be the last of my mathematical posts. It may well prove my last post ever after I'm laughed out of the blogosphere for one particular selection. But, hey: Irk The Musos!
Special mention to Joy Division... and Half Man Half Biscuit's superb "tribute", Joy Division Oven Gloves.
Psychedelic king and Soft Machine founder Ayers brings us a brief coda to his 1974 album The Confessions of Dr. Dream and Other Stories. It starts out with a simple bit of maths... and then goes quickly mental.
Surprisingly not the shortest record on this week's Top Ten though...
OK. Here we go. I make no bones about this: it is a truly awful record. But I would argue that's largely down to the production, by the three men responsible for the nadir of popular music in the late 80s. And yes, it's sung by a bloody soap opera star... although arguably one I've grown to have more respect for in his later years (I saw him in the stage version of Jeff Wayne's War Of The Worlds and he was excellent). The song itself - if you strip away all that awful production - stands up well as a decent enough pop song. If it'd been recorded 20 years earlier by The Supremes, it would be remembered now as a classic.
That said, I know: it's awful.
However.
I was 16 when it was released, and even though my musical tastes had moved well beyond teen-pop, something about this record (and a couple of other singles from the same album) appealed to my cheesy sense of fun. I remember singing along to it with a friend (who was a strict Smiths / Pet Shop Boys devotee) at the top of our voices on the school bus, ironically perhaps, but not caring about the embarrassment attached.
I didn't have to tell you this. I could have denied its existence in the playlist of my memory and clung onto my shreds of blogger cool, but no... honesty is the best policy. I often say on this blog that I do not believe in Guilty Pleasures and will shamelessly extol the virtues of Barry Manilow, the Bee Gees, Genesis, Bryan Adams, Taylor Swift, Elton John, Abba, Guns n Roses, Whitesnake, Lady Gaga, et al. where other bloggers fear to tread. I mean I draw the line at U2 and Michael Bolton, but that's about it. But this time, I fear I've just gone too far...
Perhaps I should consult Jez over at A History of Dubious Taste? If anyone will stick up for me here, it's got to be him...
I became momentarily obsessed with White Crosses, the album this (bonus) track comes from, a few years back. It took Against Me! into more anthemic, Green Day territory than their earlier, punkier recordings and proved a good sing-a-long, thump-the-steering wheel protest record.
I haven't really been paying much attention to the band's career since then, so I was interested to read that the lead singer, Laura Jane Grace (formerly Thomas James Gabel), recently revealed herself to be transgender, as chronicled in 2014's Against Me! album Transgender Dysphoria Blues. As I have a friend / former colleague who recently went through the same thing, I'm very interested in tracking that record down.
From First Band On The Moon, the album that broke The Cardigans onto the international stage (it's the one with Lovefool on!) this low key, bittersweet track puts Nina's vocals front and centre.
Not
actually a calculation of division, though it looks enough like one to
get it in here. The title is apparently an imaginary catalogue number
Alex Chilton and Chris Bell gave to an imaginary record on an imaginary
record label they threatened their real record label they might release
if they didn't get their skates on and put out their debut album. Less
than a minute in length, it's the final track on #1 Record, an homage to
Abbey Road era Beatles.
While Hal David and Elvis Costello were extremely different lyricists, both dealt in melancholia and wordplay. While never aiming to equal the Bacharach / David collaboration, 1998's Bacharach / Costello juxtaposition brought a new lease of life to both artists. It gave Costello the timeless melodies he'd been moving towards after years of feasting at the new wave, country, soul and alt-rock tables, and it afforded Bacharach the opportunity to write his first album of new songs in 21 years. Just beautiful.
And every night you ask yourself "What am I to do?" Can it be so hard to calculate? When three goes into two There`s nothing left over
1. Aimee Mann - One
OK, I owe this one to Martin because I really didn't have a Number One for this final Maths Top Ten until he suggested this a couple of weeks back... and we won't ever get a more perfect One than this One.
One is the loneliest number, much much worse than two
One is the number divided by two...
Of course, One is originally by Harry Nilsson, an artist whom I have a huge amount of time and respect for, and not only because he was Number One on the day I was born. But much as I love Harry's version, the divine Ms. Mann knocked this One out of the park when she recorded the soundtrack to Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia: a good film made great by its musical score.
Perhaps this Perfect One will make up for that Imperfect Nine... somehow, I doubt it.
