I've left out the obvious ones like Mad World, I'm Going Slightly Mad, Patsy Cline and Aerosmith. Here are a few more tunes that almost made the cut this weekend, starting with some Pop Punk from 1999...
Finally for today, a lady whose work "blends elements of gothic rock, doom metal, and folk." This one though wouldn't sound out of place on a David Lynch soundtrack...
I like to pick a couple of obscure acts for Snapshots every week, just to stretch your braincells. But this Aussie band might have been pushing the obscurity factor a bit much, even for Ernie.
I had a load more, but you're probably getting sick of them now, so let's finish today with the song that almost tipped Ernie off to this week's answer, and probably helped Parsley The Goat clinch it.
I couldn't let this series close without mentioning "the most amazing motion picture of our time", starring Michael Landon, presumably before he found God in Highway To Heaven...
Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was banned during the video nasties scare of the 80s, so it became something of a holy grail to teenage horror fans like myself, desperate to see it. When it was finally re-released in 1998, I rushed out to see it. The film does contain one of the most disturbing scenes I've ever seen... yet it's nothing to do with the infamous chainsaw, or even Leatherface himself. Instead, the bit that got me was the dinner party scene when they fetch Grandpa down from the attic...
The Tyla Gang formed in 1975 following the dissolution of Sean Tyla's previous band, Ducks Deluxe. I suspect there's more than a whiff of bandwagonary going on here...
The other classic horror film banned throughout my adolescent video shop days was Mark Kermode's favourite: The Exorcist. Hard to believe it's 25 years since the censors finally allowed me to watch that...
The less said about the 2005 remake of House of Wax, starring Paris Hilton, the better. The 1953 original though, with Vincent Price, was one of the first mainstream Hollywood movies to be filmed in 3D. I generally hate 3D movies, but I reckon it'd be worth seeing this one again with the glasses on.
I found a whole bunch of songs named after this flick. Here's a smattering of wax on wax...
Nothing beats a good haunted house story for me though. And that one to beat in that genre is the 1963 version of Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, known simply as The Haunting.
Whatever you do, do NOT watch the 1999 version with Liam Neeson and Catherine Zeta Jones. It's one of the worst films I've ever seen.
Here are some post-Shane Pogues... so no way as scary as they used to be.
Sadly, I couldn't find any songs named after the best haunted house movies of the 21st Century, the Paranormal Activity flicks, but I'm closing today with the film that got me hooked on horror movies back when I was a kid. I was obsessed with the Amityville Horror, reading all the books, watching all the films, and even looking favourably upon Lovebug Starski...
I'm taking a bit of a break from daily blogging over the summer. Many times, writing this blog helps keep me sane. Other times, it just adds another rusty tin can on the back of the Buckaroo donkey. Snapshots will continue over the weekends and (with a little help from George), so will Namesakes. Most of the other features are on hold for now, but I'll check back in when the spirit moves me.
When I was a kid, I thought that an oxymoron was an idiot with spots. Then I went to an English lesson and learned that an oxymoron is actually "a figure of speech in which apparently contradictory terms appear in conjunction". Like Biggie Smalls, above... or Fatboy Slim, who introduced yesterday's post.
Here are ten songs that feature oxymorons in their titles...
10. What do you get if you cross a Folksinger and Man U?
Canadian actress Marie Prevost was one of the original stars of the silent movie era, appearing in dozens of films throughout the 1920s and early 30s, although many of these are now lost to the sands of time (no intact reels remain). Her career went into decline when the talkies arrived, and her subsequent life was marred by the tragic death of her mother, alcoholism and binge eating. She died in 1937, aged just 40, but as she lived alone, her body wasn't found until two days later when her neighbours complained to police about the noise of her barking dog.
Which is where the myth of Marie Prevost begins. Police noted at the time that there were small bite marks on her legs, which the coroner suggested came from her dog nipping its owner to try and wake her up. In his book Hollywood Babylon, controversial writer Kenneth Anger suggested the dog made "mincemeat out of his mistress" in order to survive, though this has since been proved a fabrication.
All of which brings us to Nick Lowe, and his Anger-influenced retelling (and re-spelling) of Marie Prevost's life, a song which manages to fall somewhere between a touching examination of the fickleness of fame... and a rather sensationalised tabloid joke. I've got a lot of respect for Nick Lowe as a songwriter, but Marie Provost is very much the work of a young songwriter, influenced by the outrage of punk, looking to make his mark. Subtlety only comes with age, I guess...
In last week’s post, I mentioned my frequently expressed
hatred of Audi drivers. Martin responded that he used to drive an Audi. Don’t
worry, Martin, we all did things we regret in our younger days. It’s good that
you can own your past transgressions, that you now see the error of your ways,
and I’m sure you’ve spent the time since making up for it – being kind to small
animals, giving more to charity, occasionally letting other drivers have their
right of way.
My reply to Martin was rather flippant, I’m afraid, and I feel I should apologise for that. I said, “And you’re also a cyclist! And yet, I still
like you. So you must be doing something right.”
I need to make it clear that I
don’t put cyclists in the same bracket as Audi drivers. Not all cyclists are
bad, but I do reserve a particular disdain for the selfish and arrogant ones,
usually MAMILs, who believe their hobby / exercise routine trumps the rights
and priorities of all other road users. There are times I feel like setting up
a desk in the middle of a cycle lane and writing my blog there, or taking the
ironing board out onto the Transpennine Cycle Trail and standing smack dab in
the middle of it while I press the creases out of my smalls. But such behaviour
would be petty. Far better to manage my grievances through mentalisation.
On the first week of my new job, just over two years ago, I
attended a course that introduced me to the concept of mentalisation. It’s not
the best of words, since whenever I hear it, I immediately think of Alan Partridge running away from his obsessive fan, or else I conjure up an image of this guy…
Mentalisation has nothing to do with either of those weird cultural reference points. Science Direct tells us…
“Mentalisation is the ability to think about states of mind
(e.g., thoughts, feelings, intentions) in the self and other people.”
Mentalisation is used a lot in therapy, but it’s also encouraged for
teachers, business people, anyone who might find themselves in a situation of
conflict with another person who appears to have opposing views, plans or
wishes to yourself.
The idea is similar to empathy, but empathy that you think about
and apply to a situation, rather than empathy that comes naturally. A quick
word on the difference between empathy and sympathy, since it’s something I get
asked a lot by students...
A friend of yours tells you what a bad time they’re having
since they lost a loved one. You can sympathise as above, without really
feeling their pain. Or you can empathise, because you care about them deeply,
you knew the person they’ve lost, or because it reminds you of a loss you
yourself suffered.
The other different between empathy and sympathy is that you can have empathy for positive emotions. Sympathy's all about the negative, "feeling sorry" for someone.
OK, mentalisation isn’t quite the same as either of those
things. It’s more cold and logical. It’s the Mr. Spock version of empathy. It asks
you to carefully assess the actions of another, to try to appreciate why they’re
acting the way they are, thereby controlling your own reaction to it.
Imagine you’re going into a difficult business meeting with
someone you know has very different goals and objectives to you. If you think
beforehand about their aims and intentions, try to understand where they’re
coming from, then you’re less likely to get pissed off when they refuse to play
ball with your plans, and you might be more willing to find a compromise that
suits everybody.
As a teacher, it’s useful to try mentalising my students. Why is little Timmy throwing his chair through the window? What’s he got going on in his life, at home or elsewhere in school? Is it a cry for help? Or did he just have George's Maths lesson the period before mine?
Let’s try and apply mentalisation to my frustration at being stuck
behind a cyclist on a narrow country lane. At five miles an hour in first gear up a steep Yorkshire hillside.
With no passing places until you get right to the top. And I’m in a rush,
because I’m late to pick Sam up from the school because the traffic has been
really bad tonight.
If I concentrate my thoughts on me in this situation – my goals,
my annoyance, how I wouldn’t have the audacity to keep on riding my bike in
this situation if there was a queue of ten cars behind me – I’m just going to get more wound up.
Instead, let’s try to mentalise that cyclist. Maybe he had a
heart attack last year and his doctor told him cycling is the best
exercise if he wants to see the other side of 60? Maybe his wife left
him a few months back and cycling is the only thing that takes his mind off his
loneliness? Maybe he’s in training for a charity bike ride to earn enough money
to fly his young son to the States for an experimental medical procedure that
might save the boy's life?
Now, admittedly, this is speculative mentalisation, since
I’ll never know the truth, and likely none of them come anywhere near the truth
(and maybe the truth is, that cyclist really doesn’t give a shit about anybody
else on the road since they’re completely devoid of empathy or the ability to
mentalise the needs of others; i.e. maybe they’re also an Audi driver), but it’s
the process that matters. It’s certainly healthier to try to mentalise
in this situation. And anger
is pointless, apparently. But we’ll get back to that another time. The main thing is to try to imagine yourself in someone else's shoes. These songs, from the perspective of cyclists, help me feel the other side of the story...
If none of that works, maybe I can try to imagine that
cyclist is a friend of mine. What if it's Martin? If I imagine that, then I know he’s
not doing this out of malicious intent, he’s just doing what he needs to do. If
I imagine it’s someone I know, someone I like and respect, then suddenly I
feel far less animosity towards them, because I know they're not doing it on purpose just to piss me off. (To be fair, some of my friends would do it on purpose just to piss me off, but that's OK when it's your friends.) Suddenly it becomes much easier to mentalise
them. There’s probably a psychological name for doing this, but I haven’t come
across it yet. I’m no expert, just a layman trying to make sense of
it all to help myself.
I take a few steps back to gain perspective, perspective, And kid myself that I can be objective, objective
Following on from Monday's post, I started reading one of the books Ben recommended. Much of this post comes from Don't Feed The Monkey Mind by Jennifer Shannon, although it's my own interpretation of her writing, coupled with some other bits I've dug up on the interweb.
Oh, I've been working
Working myself up to the fact
That my best days are behind me
And the road up ahead will be filled with looking back
And the road up ahead will be filled with looking back
Will I look back with regret, with moments to forget
Or will I love what I see?
And the memories will surround me like a warm bubble bath
That's why I'm doing this series. Because I want more warm bubble bath memories to look back on in my dotage, rather than regret.
Why do we get stressed in the first place?
According to the scientists, it’s all down to two little almonds in our brain. Yes, our brains contain nuts. And these nuts are in control of our emotions! As soon as I read this, I felt a lot better about my stress, anxiety, lack of self-esteem and overall miserableness. It’s all just nuts!
The nuts in question are amygdala – although because there’s two of them, there’s some debate about whether the plural should be amygdalas or amygdalae. As it’s a word I find difficult to pronounce anyway, I’m going to stick with the singular. Amygdala. Anyway, the word comes from the Greek amygdalē, which translates as either ‘tonsil’ or ‘almond’. I bet that caused some confusion in Greek hospitals whenever anyone turned up with tonsillitis… or was it just an almond stuck in their throat? Obviously, I’m going with the almond translation because… nuts!
Although they’re a tiny part of our overall brain, the amygdala have a huge job to do. Scientists believe they’re in charge of learning and memory, behaviour, decision making and – perhaps most importantly of all – emotions. Actually, I’m not really sure what else is left for the rest of the brain to do. I reckon it just stares out of the window and tries to work out what your favourite Supertramp song is, or who was Number One on your 16th birthday.
(In case you're wondering, I had no memory of that at all, so I had to look it up. And I bought that record too. I very quickly came to despite Stock, Aitken & Waterman, but I was a big fan of Neighbours - and Kylie in particular - at this time and I was 16, so what do you want from me?)
The amygdala’s main job would appear to be assessing danger. Everything we see, smell, hear, taste, touch, feel or think passes through the amygdala, and the amygdala screens it all for threats. It’s like a particularly thorough airport security check… or, the way I prefer to think about it, it’s our spider-sense.
Whenever the amygdala senses any kind of threat – from a bus about to run us over in the street to somebody gossiping about us behind our back in the office – it sets off our spider-sense, various hormonal and neurological warning signals that in turn cause us to feel the symptoms of stress. These will vary depending on the individual and the situation, but they include all the old favourites – physical stuff such as increased heart rate, changes to breathing, hot or cold sweat, and mental reactions such as fear, anger and shame. Stress hormones basically prepare us to fight the threat or flee from the danger: fight or flight. But they often override our normal, logical human brain, and let our monkey brain take over. And what do monkeys love? Nuts! That’s why we sometimes do crazy things when we’re stressed, like shouting at people we love, eating a whole chocolate cake in one go, or punching the wall with exasperation.
(Kommode are from Norway. You'll be pleased to learn that a Kommode in Norwegian is a chest of drawers, not a water closet.)
When the amygdala goes into overdrive, it can cause all kinds of mental health problems, including chronic anxiety, depression, self-harm, eating disorders, bi-polar disorder, and PTSD. It can affect our appetite, our sleep, our self-image, our enjoyment of life… pretty much everything. All that from two little almonds in our brain. Nuts.
So... what do we do about it? Well, I certainly don’t claim to have a magic wand. (Not yet, anyway.) But the first step in dealing with any problem is understanding the problem. Understanding why we feel the way we do in any given situation, and what’s going on in our brains and our bodies that creates those feelings. Recognising that negative thoughts are just thoughts, and that negative feelings are just chemical and neurological responses.
I'd like to help you, doctor
Yes I really, really would
But the din in my head
It's too much and it's no good
I'm standing in a windy tunnel
Shouting through the roar
And I'd like to give the information
You're asking for
But blood makes noise
It's a ringing in my ear
Blood makes noise
And I can't really hear you in the thickening of fear
And if that doesn’t calm you down, try thinking about the monkey throwing nuts around as soon as it senses danger. Saying, “shut up, monkey!” whenever your head fills up with negative thoughts might seem like an overly simplistic way of dealing with the situation, but it’s a clear reminder of what’s going on in your brain, and that’s a good start.
If ever anyone calls me a "glass half empty kind of guy", I usually respond that the glass has been dry for years and is currently shattered into a million pieces that lacerate my feet whenever I cross the kitchen floor.
Being a grumpy old git, and playing on it, has been my default setting since I was a teenager. It usually raises a laugh, and then I get the social validation that comes from people reacting in a positive way to something I've said. Don't look at me like that, we all know that's how it works - you get a smile or a laugh from a friend, a colleague, or even a total stranger, and you get that little dopamine hit that keeps you going.
But as part of my Cynical Self-Help Programme, I'm challenging everything now. And I've started to wonder if playing this part all these years has been a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Well, d'oh.
My mental state is all a-jumble I sit around and sadly mumble Fools rush in, so here I am Very glad to be unhappy I can't win, but here I am More than glad to be unhappy
The question is, can I still get the same response from others by being a happy person? I mean, as we all know, there's nothing more annoying than... well...
When I started this series, I toyed with the idea of calling it Positive Thinking For Negative Bastards. How do you turn that frown upside down... without being the kind of person who says things like "Turn that frown upside down"? Because you know how annoying those people are.
I'm sorry for all of my insecurities, but they're just a part of me "Envy is thin because it bites but never eats" That's what a nice old Spanish lady once told me "Hey Debbie-Downer, turn that frown upside down and just be happy"
But what are you doing here right now, yiu hypocrite?
Oh look, there's the voice of my intrusive thoughts again. I'm going to call him Ian. Ian Trusive. I think it's important we acknowledge him when he has something to say.
Patronising git. Isn't the very act of blogging about this subject preachy? Come read Rol's great sermon on how to be a better man?
"Oh woe is me, and just listen to how smug and sanctimonious I am about it..."
Maybe so, Ian. But I'm not writing this series for anybody other than myself. It's nice if people do read and occasionally leave a comment (all hail the dopamine hits!), but that's not why I'm writing it.
At the end of his album Peace Queer, Todd Snider talks about how some people have accused him of getting more and more opinionated in his songs. He replies with a line I'm going to steal, because it perfectly sums up this series...
I did not do this to change your mind about anything I did this to ease my own mind about everything
Whether the glass is half empty or half full is only a matter of perception. And like a lot of the things we think, it's a matter of choice. I'm trying to choose the other path - and if Ian and his pals consider that the high road, well fair enough. I'll still be in Scotland before him...
I heard enough of the white man's blues I've sang enough about myself So if you're looking for some bad news You can find it somewhere else
Last year was a son of a bitch For nearly everyone we know But I ain't fighting with you down in a ditch I'll meet you up here on the road
I spent a lot of time in this room, answering these phones. That's the original switchboard that was in MCR when I first joined back in 1988. It was updated a couple of years later, before I started on the late night phone in, to a smaller white plastic box with lots of green and red LEDs. My first job was answering the phones for quizzes and requests on the Saturday morning show. Although I don't think we ever played requests. And this was long before the term "shout out" was coined. It was mentions, back then. "Can you give us a mention?"
I've talked before about what the job entailed and how I go it, so what else do I remember? I remember that I took over from a girl called Sorrel, and the reason she was leaving is because she was going to university. This all seemed very exotic to 16 year old me, who'd just sat these new fangled GCSE exams. We were the first year of those, anyone older than us had done O Levels or CSEs, and naturally looked down on us.
Sorrel trained me up on how to answer the phone, and how to put callers on hold so the presenter could pick them up in the studio. Those big clunky buttons, I feel so much affection for them now. She showed me where the kitchen was so I could make coffee for the jocks. And then she was gone. Everyone gave her a hug and wished her well. Tears were shed, but I wasn't yet a part of their family, so I just felt out of it.
I'd never drunk coffee till I started working in radio. This world, it was all so sophisticated.
This seemed an appropriate tune to play today. For Switchboard Sorrel, wherever you are now...
D12 (which stands for Dirty Dozen) was the rap band Eminem was in before he became famous. He got the old gang back together a few years later, notably for the song below...
Those of you with better memories than me (or The Swede) may remember that that song won #35 on the Hot 100 Countdown, and at the time I remarked: "don't expect it to show up again at number 12. I can easily think of a dozen songs that would come before it." Which may have been an exaggeration on my part, but I have to stick to my word.
That was obviously a popular suggestion with Alyson, who says: it was one of my first singles. I also had a Donny pillowcase and a Donny Cap (not a euphemism for a form of contraception as I was only aged 12 - apt).
Well, I suppose that's less embarrassing than Respect Yourself by Bruce Willis. Sadly, the only version I own of that song comes from this fellow...
Speaking of welcome returns, after my plea last week, Douglas McLaren returned to explain where he's been recently... and it seems as though life is pretty unpleasant for teachers in Canada... as I can attest it is in the UK. His explanation below sounds very familiar to these ears...
...our entire school system has moved during these times to an online platform, as we figure out how to get teenagers to do work from home while they are stressed and concerned about what is going on in the world beyond their doors. And that has meant trying g to figure out how to upload video lectures, hold virtual office hours online, screencasting, web-textbooks, and a whole lot of other insanely time consuming nonsense for an old dinosaur of the classroom like me to learn.
You have my sympathy, Douglas, as all this has nearly broken me over the past few weeks, not to mention the fact that Louise is also supposed to be working from home and we've got to home-school Sam while we're doing it. If I read one more article about "how to spend your free time" or "what to watch on Netflix now we're all at home, taking it east", I'm going to scream.
Anyway, here's Douglas to tell us about his suggestion for this week...
Great Big Sea are from Newfoundland on Canada's east coast, with their lyrical and folksy "Come And I Will Sing You (The Twelve Apostles)", which I think is worth the listen.
This week's winner though. Alyson got it, but first to name it was Martin who normally spreads his bets over a whole load of tracks but this week was so certain of a win, he piled all his chips onto one bet. And guess what? It paid off...
Makes you wonder why they weren't huge... although I guess a band that size had to sell a heck of a lot of records to break even...
Next week, eleven. After that, things get really tricky. I might need to come up with some new rules...
Thank you to C for suggesting this week's band... 14 Iced Bears. She says...
I couldn't tell you any of their songs any more unfortunately, although have vivid memories of ordering in their singles for some devoted indie fans at the time of their release and (in my head at least) being very disparaging about their chosen name. Now I think it's rather lovely!
I would like to back up C and proclaim that the 14 Iced Bears were awesome. Unfortunately, their sleeves were nothing to write home about. Perhaps the cover for The Importance Of Being Frank EP would suffice for art.
I'm not sure what that is above, Brian, but it was the one with the clearest 14 I could find.
Another relatively quiet week on the countdown, compared to the excesses of 16 and 17, although we're all just girding our loins in preparation for the Top Ten.
Here's what you had for me this wee, starting with Martin, who's still smarting from forgetting two Gene tracks last week...
Hats off to you Rol for putting this together as my brain is incapable of concentrating on anything at the moment. Yes, my choices above not really my thing, but fitted the brief. From the same source I have just found something called:
Interesting, as dance remakes of Welcome To The Pleasuredome go. The lyrics you quote don't appear to come from that track though, Alyson. They come from Love Song To The Earth by Sean Paul, featuring Natasha Bedingfield & Paul "anything to stay cred" McCartney. As C remarks, it's apt to the current world situation... but doesn't have any 14s in it, I'm afraid.
Time for Jim in Dubai, who also found it tough this week...
Those last two are definitely worth a click. I'll let you get back to your virtual queue now, RD... because I bet you're still stuck in it, 7 days after you left that xomment.
Lynchie appeared equally stuck for inspiration this week...
I couldn't think of any songs with 14 in the title but then I discovered...
...on which is voice sounds nothing like it did on "Tiptoe Through The Tulips". It's a pretty deep voice which led me to believe it might be an imposter. The lyrics kick off with:
Fourteen!
Fourteen girls in baggy pyjamas
What if I'd gone to the south Bahamas
...and just get weirder.
I'm only guessing here, but I don't think that's the same Tiny Tim. But thank you anyway.
Thankfully, the Swede is here to restore us to sanity...
...from The Impossible Bird. I think this is his best album, and that's saying something.
I seem to remember there was some discussion about this over at your place recently, Brian. I'd still always plump for Jesus of Cool, but those later albums are pretty special.
OK, time to scrape the dregs from my own hard-drive...
All of which brings us to this week's winner... and to be honest with you, I pretty much thought that Rigid Digit had walked away with it. I was all set to crown this the champion...
...until a final scour through the library shook out this little gem. Frankly, I'm ashamed to say I'd forgotten it... and a number of my regulars will probably share that same shame.
Take it away, Billy...
Unlucky for all of us, next week is 13. Not that we need any more bad luck at the moment. Suggestions, please...
