Of course, this got me thinking of my own childhood, of Saturday afternoons watching Big Daddy, Giant Haystacks, Mick McManus, Mark “Rollerball” Rocco and Kendo Nagasaki on TV... easy! Easy! Easy! EASY!!!
I mentioned these to my Mum, who added one perfect detail I'd never heard before. "Me and your dad went to watch the wrestling when we were on our honeymoon in Skegness." So a love of wrestling has been in our family from the early 1950s... through the 80s... and into the present day. A glorious tag team through time.
34 is a band, straight out of Kansas City, Missouri, one of those metal bands whose singer is in desperate need of a packet of Fisherman's Friends. Hear them roar here.
The number 34 proved to be another tricky one on the countdown, but as always you did your best to furnish me with suggestions.
Lynchie kicked off this week with a good ol' boy...
And it's up against the wall, redneck mother Mother who has raised her son so well He's 34 and drinkin' in a honky tonk Just kickin' hippies' asses and raisin' hell...
Those bloody hippies, eh?
YouTube tells me that was "made famous by J.J. Walker". I suppose that depends on your definition of the word "famous".
Next to arrive last week was Douglas, still perturbed that I hadn't chosen either Bruce or Billy last week (I know, it kills me too) who decides to go a little off the beaten track this week as a result. I'll let him explain...
Monsters of Folk were a sort of one-off supergroup of Americana folk-rock greats, made up of Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes, Jim James (My Morning Jacket) and M. Ward. They take turns songwriting and taking lead vocals, and though I love the album, it is as a result a little uneven...like they haven't fully learned each other's strengths and are in a bit of a tug of war for the reins. But there are some fantastic moments in there, including this song:
Pain was hunting me down but I gave him the slip then I fell in love with identical twins They lived 34 summers between the two of them I gave one my ego, I gave one my id Yeah, I gotta get back to my pretty little twins Don't ever buy nothin' from a man named truth Don't ever buy nothin' from a man named truth I'll tell you right now that it ain't no use Don't ever buy nothin' from a man named truth.
Pretty deep that. Shame I'm so shallow. Luckily, Douglas had that covered too with his second suggestion...
...doin' 34 shows every day And every time it's the same Look at those hippos, they're wigglin' their ears Just like they've done for the last 50 years.
Next through the doors was Martin, who offered a couple more lyrical suggestions that he wisely assessed would be in my own library...
In a week of slim pickings though, it was C who provided our salvation, with a classic Lieber/Stoller composition. C originally suggested the version by The Searchers, but then wisely directed us to the original by The Clovers. I'm rather partial to the version by The Coasters too.
I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine Selling little bottles of Love Potion Number Nine
33 next week. Should be a little easier, given revolutions per minute. What have you got for me?
Here's one I originally ran on the old blog, ten years (or so) ago. As very few people remember the old blog, I don't mind re-using posts from it every now and then... although whenever I do, I inevitably end up wondering what I would add to the list if I were to compile it again today. Hence 'Volume 1' above, giving me the option of doing a Volume 2 soon.
From Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe to Morse, Addison & Hayes, Monk and Sherlock, I've always loved detective stories. Here are ten tributes in song...
Armchair detective, what you surmising? A fountain of knowledge in times of crisis Opinions like arseholes on days like today; everyone's got one You'd best say it quick while it's fresh in your mind, say it before it's forgotten Just 'cos you shout loudest don't mean that you're right
I'd been hired to track down a lead on why Robert Palmer was still considered uncool when he left us so many great songs like this one. File that one under 'Unsolved'.
Been a Private Detective for Seventeen Months Don't do it for money, just do it for love Like last night when my client got over excited When his wife had an orgy and he wasn't invited We sat in the car taking pictures and smoking My client just sat there eating mini cheddars and hoping His wife was thinking of him every time she kisses someone else's lips She's thinking of him, and in her mind's eye those groping eyes are his And in her mind's eye those peeping hands are his And in her mind's eye every ounce of flesh, that gets inside her dress, is his...
Superman Revenge Squad win points for writing the only song I can think of that namechecks Mini Cheddars.
And what have you got at the end of the day? What have you got to take away? A bottle of whiskey and a new set of lies Blinds on the window and a pain behind the eyes
As I mentioned last week, things are particularly fraught here as we prepare to move house. Again. I'd hoped to stay in our current home a little longer as it's the best home I've ever paid a mortgage on, but circumstances conspired to make us realise that if we could move now, we might save some money in the long-term. (The move is inevitable at some point in the next 4-5 years in order to get Sam into the High School we want him to go to... not the one I went to!)
Our house sold very quickly, which has meant there's been a mad rush over the past few weeks to find a suitable new home. We've had some pretty outrageous experiences viewing properties over the years (scarily, this will be the FOURTH house Louise and I have bought together over the last 11 years), and often that's been down to the estate agents selling them.. or the owners still residing in them.
There have been houses with dripping dungeons in the basement, houses with dead squirrels in the garden, one hi-tech Jetson's House with a bright orange shower room and the computer system from War Games in its garage... and our personal favourite, the house that was owned by Keef Richards' hippy brother, who told us: "You can't go upstairs, man - Rosie's in the bath!"
Here's ten songs that remind me of looking for a new house... and the estate agents lies that try to sell you homes you don't want.
Just in case you didn't get the message first time. Most of our moves have involved this kind of thing, one way or another. "L'enfer c'est les autres."
I was woken up at four a.m. by your screams and anguished cries Your mother was singing in the bathroom, she will never be my child Oh baby talks in her sleep so loud We're living four flights up but I swear right now it feels like underground!
Love to meet the estate agent that sold Lloyd this one!
1. The Four Tops - 7 Rooms of Gloom
I see a house, a house of stone A lonely house, 'cos now you're gone Seven rooms, that's all it is, seven rooms of gloom I live with emptiness, without your tenderness
"But, on the plus side, there is an en-suite..."
Any songs in your collection the estate agents must have lied about?
I've never been to Camber Sands, but from the looks of all the gloriously airbrushed pictures of it on t'internet, it is a little slice of paradise.
Being a tiny village with a huge beach, it's hard to find anyone famous who comes from this idyllic locale... but it does crop up in a few songs. Fatboy Slim even named an EP after it. (Hardly Norman's most exciting 6 minutes, to be fair.)
Oh, and all hail... our first destination to find its way into a Half Man Half Biscuit song (I do check every week). Amazing that it took us six weeks to hear from "Mansfield's very own Steve Malkmus"...
However, I'm sure most of you guessed this week's winning song as soon as you saw our destination in the post title. Yes, it's this joyful little slice of seaside smut from the Squeeze siblings...
They do it in Waikiki too, you know.
640 miles north next week, to the Highlands... and a song that's bound to meet the approval of certain members of our Scottish contingent.
The folly of youth is that you think you have all the time in the world to make your dreams a reality.
He's compromising
At least he's got a job for life
Get born, get schooled
Get job, get car
Pay tax and find a wife
And on that note
The end can't come too soon
If you're not living on the edge
You take up too much room
Then one day you wake up and it's too late. And you realise how much time you wasted in your 20s...
At school, he used to dream about being Bruce Lee
But the need for chops
In the Manor Top
Ain't all that great, you see
And so he gave up
On his black belt and first dan
As near as he got to China
Was a week in Camber Sands
The ironic thing about the most famous song by Reverend & The Makers is that it's all about almost making it... just as they almost did. Heavyweight Champion of the World was a Top Ten hit in 2007, but it was their only one. Still, they carry on regardless. I need to go check out a few of their most recent releases because Jon McClure is a great songwriter. I hope he's been successful enough that he's never had to take a day job... and be like everybody else...
So we'll (hopefully) be moving house in the next couple of weeks.
I'll let you come to your own conclusions as to why...
However, I dedicate this post to my friend and comic collaborator Rob Wells, whose "naughty neighbour" experiences make ours pale into insignificance, and whose hilariously confessional graphic novel 'Sack, Crack & Back (& Brain)' has just been shortlisted for this year's Myriad Editions First Graphic Novel Competition.Congrats, Rob, you deserve to win... the rest of you, just be glad I didn't do a 'Sack, Crack & Back' Top Ten.
Like many people with bad neighbours, Paul Simon doesn't like to make a fuss...
I heard a racket in the hall And I thought I heard a fall But I never opened up my door It's just apartment house sense It's like apartment rents Remember: one man's ceiling Is another man's floor
Mostly forgotten Scouse-Pop anthem from EIGHTEEN years ago that begins with a dated Lloyd Grossman reference!
In 110 they haven't paid the rent So there goes the TV with the repo men In 999 they make a living from crime The house is always empty Cos they're all doing time
As
he explains in the live intro linked to above, Richard Thompson really hates the
TV show Neighbours... largely because he doesn't think it's at all
realistic: the folk who live next to him are anything but good friends.
A man pours petrol through his neighbor's letterbox And throws in a match, the house is engulfed in flames, as the neighbors Jump from the upstairs window he films the whole thing on video He plays it back to them later in hospital "Things have been pretty dull at home without you", he says
You may be surprised to learn that this is not the only song about Peter Thornley in this Top Ten.
I don't often steal an entire song's lyrics... but these are worth repeating.
I caught myself crying in the mirror
I was pathetic, I
was the angriest dog in the world, I was Kendo Nagaski looking back
over a lifetime just spent sweating in the ring, in a mask, and feeling
ashamed.
I put your postcard on the side
And it makes me happy that you're not happy – it makes me smile
Was
in your top eight friends on myspace for half a week, but Thursday
night I'd disappeared, but you made me feel special for a while.
I guess everything leads to loneliness And Weatherspoons meals are cheaper when there's two We're gonna gather all the lonely people, let them enjoy the two-for-one Then go back to being strangers when they're through And maybe one or two won't be strangers anymore
And it makes me happy that you're not happy – it makes me smile
Art Brut have just released a two-disc best of compilation. Great - like I don't have little enough money as it is. (Unprofessional Wrestling isn't on it, by the way.)
Am I un H A P P why?
Does a new born baby cry?
Did Little Red Riding wear a hood?
Did the three bears shit in the woods?
Was Humpty Dumpty fat?
Does the Pope wear a funny hat?
Is wrestling fixed?
