Welcome to a new interactive blog feature in which we look at old records that might not have aged particularly well. Nothing to do with cancelling Boy George and pals - that just made a good name / visual.
I'm not an advocate of Cancel Culture. Like all these movements, I believe it started with good intentions, before being hijacked by reactionaries and zealots. I also think there's a danger in cancelling things or people and pretending they never existed, even if they deserve it. Better to open a debate and consider context, try to examine how times have changed and why our responses today might be different than they were 20/30/40/50 years ago.
To help me with this process, I invited a crack team of bloggers and friends to give us their opinions... so it's not just me boring you with my namby pamby snowflake / misanthropic traditionalist attitudes. We'll call them The Cancel Culture Club Committee.
Let's see what they make of today's tune...
I was going to write more of an introduction, but the good thing about co-opting this features to some of the finest writers on the interweb (apart from the bots, obviously) is that other people do a far better job of it than I ever could.
Prime example - here's Alyson from the Jukebox Time Machine. What's It All About, Alyson...?
Rol, I see you are looking for people’s opinions on whether certain songs from the past should be seen in a rather different light in these modern, progressive times. Should they be cancelled/banned/never played or listened to again? Or do they still have merit despite their old-fashioned attitudes?
The first example you give of such a song is Young Girl by Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, lyrically all about a man who finds out that the girl he is with is younger than she initially made out. He therefore asks her to leave before things “go too far”.
I am just about old enough to remember this song from when it first came out in 1968, but I reckon it was when it was re-released in 1974 that I took a real shine to it. The chorus especially has a very jaunty, upbeat sound to it, like other songs from the era such as Everlasting Love. The session musicians who worked on it were part of The Wrecking Crew, that group of top LA session musicians who helped the Beach Boys, Phil Spector, and many others to make classic songs and albums. What could possibly be the problem with it? Because the lyrics refer to an older man with a “young girl”, it doesn’t sit well with our 21st century sensibilities, and quite rightly. But it wasn’t written in the 21st century, and as it turns out, the chap in the lyrics is doing the honourable thing telling the girl she has to get out of his life – something I don’t think many chaps from my neck of the woods would have done in 1968. I don’t feel it should be banned or cancelled but treated in the same way as certain books and films are now, a product of their time, 1968.
A bit of background to those times: again, I am old enough to remember that the school leaving age in Scotland until 1972 was still 14. Many stayed longer of course but my Primary School also had a Junior Secondary for those local pupils who hadn’t passed their 11+. The girls concentrated on Home Economics (preparing them for being housewives) and the boys on technical subjects. They had their own cloakroom area, and as few wore school uniform we were in awe of these “women” in their fashionable coats, boots, earrings, and perms just like their mums. Once they left school the girls often found jobs in local shops and started going out with local chaps, driving around in their cars ahead of giving up work at 16/17 to get married and have babies. I really don’t think anyone considered the “age of consent” back then and just let nature take its course. What I’m saying is that in 1968, many girls were a lot more mature than girls of a similar age today so we can’t directly compare the definition of what is a “young girl”. Saying the times were different isn’t always a valid excuse for keeping things in the public domain, but I’m giving Young Girl a pass.
So, Rol, that’s my take on this first song on your list of many. Hope I’m not totally out of kilter with everyone else. One more example before I go: I don’t think there was national outrage back in the day when we heard that Elvis’s relationship with Priscilla started when she was 14, and that she moved into Graceland with him at 16, that has only happened in more recent enlightened times. Again, she looked like her mother, not a schoolgirl, and there were plenty more just like her. A reflection of “the times”.
Thank you, Alyson. Without pre-empting the comments below too much, I think it's fair to say you won't be completely out of kilter. And I knew when I asked for your opinion that it would come filled with a warm touch of nostalgic anecdote and level-headed thinking. You raise an interesting question though - just because times and attitudes change, does it automatically mean we should view previous attitudes as "wrong"? What you suggest here is that those attitudes were right, in their way, for those times... just as today's attitudes are just as right for the here and now. I don't think that will always be the case in this series, but I certainly think Young Girl deserves a little more credit than it might be given by contemporary mores.
Now I had wanted the wonderful John Medd to open today's commentary, purely because he always runs my pictures first in his monthly Photo Challenge (even though they rarely match up to the images that follow) and I wanted to pay him back for that. Still, I'm sure you'll all understand why I let Alyson go first. So John goes next...
As jailbait songs go I think Young Girl is pretty tame. Gary Puckett is hardly in the same league as Jeffrey Epstein; it appears he's realised where this could potentially lead and is deploying reverse gear. As to whether it should be cherished or cancelled, I'm sorry but I don't care enough about the record/song to get that invested in it. If it were to come on the radio I wouldn't be grinding my teeth and penning a letter to Ofcom, let's put it that way.
Of course, our own personal taste - whether we like a tune or (to quote George) think it's bobbins, will doubtlessly feed into our reactions, but I'm glad that John won't be writing to Ofcom. Not that I think he'd need to - I honestly can't remember the last time I heard Young Girl on the radio. In fact, I only heard it again recently when I was listening to a compilation of songs featuring The Wrecking Crew. Unlike John though, I think I had a far more positive reaction - musically, it's a belter, Puckett's soulful voice complemented by some of the best musicians LA had to offer at the time. It really got stuck in my head... but then I found myself feeling rather awkward about wanting to sing along. And it turns out I'm not alone in that...
All the way from sunny Portugal, here's George...
I can't stop singing this song!! Walking the dogs the other day, I was even "singing" it out loud. Without delving into the lyrics, it's simply a great 1960s pop song, driven by that fantastic, strong Gary Puckett vocal. And now, thanks to Rol, I've actually listened closely to the lyrics "and though you know it's wrong to be alone with me....that come-on look is in your eyes". To say the least, that's a bit distasteful. I've probably got this song on more than one compilation album, and I would not skip over it, indeed I'd probably sing along, divorcing myself from the sentiment and just warble along with "young girl get out of my mind" etc. And I just can't bring myself to saying that it should be cancelled.
And that ability to divorce ourselves from distasteful sentiment is very similar to that old discussion we often have about separating song from singer, art from artist. It's the only way I can keep enjoying The Smiths, by disconnecting myself from how I feel about Morrissey as a person. And we all do that to some extent in our appreciation of art, something which will doubtless be a recurring motif in this series. Still, while George is fine singing along to Young Girl while walking the sun-scorched fields of Portugal... I'm sure we'd all think twice these days about singing it on the high street. And as a retired teacher, I'm sure George would understand the dangers of walking across the playground with this song in his head... as a non-retired teacher, I shudder at the thought.
Next up, it's time to hear from World Traveller and (some believe) secret agent / super-spy, Ernie Goggins...
I don't really have a problem with this one. Yes, Gary admits to inappropriate desires, but ultimately he decides not to act on them, unlike actual paedophiles like R. Kelly, G. Glitter etc. who rightly were cancelled and should be strung up by their goolies. And while the lyrics are a bit creepy, there are countless songs on the same subject that are much creepier (any version of 'Good Morning Little Schoolgirl' for example) and others that are innocent in intent but sound very dodgy if you don't know what they are meant to be about (like 'Clair' by Gilbert O'Sullivan).
Sadly, it was impossible to dip our toe into this subject without mentioned those whose names have gone down in infamy. A distinction would, I hope, be made between the convicted predators mentioned above and others who have had age-gap relationships which might now be classed as statutory rape. John Peel and David Bowie, to name but two. The waters grow murkier the more we wade into them wearing Contemporary Perspective wellies... here's an interesting piece about why "we should not judge people with problematic pasts by how much we like their work" by John Sturgis. As a self-confessed fan of both Peel and Bowie though, I'm not sure he reaches any kind of firm conclusion.
Going back to George for a second. When I first announced this series, George emailed me to express a very relevant concern...
I am wondering about this, it is an interesting idea but is there a chance that some people might get extremely offended? Would you consider songs from certain glam-era pop stars who have been imprisoned? Would it include blues singers who killed someone? Or are you just going by potentially inappropriate song titles and sentiments such as the one you sent out? (I'm now thinking of a Nirvana song on their In Utero album that I have a problem with).
And my answer to that was that was that I didn't intend for this series to be about the singers, just the songs. Still, while I'm trying to keep things light-hearted, we will inevitably touch upon very serious subject matter, and pose questions to which there are no straightforward answers. But I respect the opinions of everyone I've asked to take part, and I knew they would approach their task in a sensible fashion. There's no place for reactionaries at Top Ten Towers.
Ernie and CC both mention a number of other songs which could be lumped into the same category, and maybe we'll look at those in more detail in future instalments. Although the defence lawyer for many of those old rock 'n' roll records that mentioned the number 16 would no doubt argue that those songs were aimed at teenage girls, and that many of the singers were meant to represent teenage boys. Which leads us to Martin from New Amusements, today's primary dissenting voice...
Tricky one. It's not like Gary was singing this at 17... he was 25, and Jerry Fuller (who wrote it) was 29 at the time. Even as I type this, I can hear Harold Steptoe in my head - "You dirty old man", etc.
Also, if you consider that the song might have been meant as a serious meditation on a man realising the object of his desire is younger than she appeared, well, you think that would be a slow, contemplative song, perhaps sad, perhaps poignant. But it fairly bounces along, major key, brass, the lot.
Also, Gary/Jerry seems to be trying to put the blame on the young girl in question if lyrics like "You've kept the secret of your youth, You led me to believe you're old enough" are anything to go by. Victim-shaming!
And then there's the slightly forbidding "You'd better run, girl" which sets a quite different tone from, say, the cautionary tale nature of something like U16 Girls by Travis.
I'm not a big believer in cancellation, and even less so in banning... but I could happily never listen to this again, and just let it die a natural death. Does it still have merit? Musically, I guess - lots of Wrecking Crew on there, I think. But lyrically? It's a no from me.
Thank you, Martin - and you raise a number of interesting points that we haven't yet tackled. I'm intrigued by your idea that serious meditations should only be the province of slower songs. I'm not sure I agree, but then I'm not sure you meant it as a blanket rule either. I can think of quite a few songs by that artist whose songs we both (still, unfortunately) enjoy which tackle very sombre or serious subject matter in jaunty sing-a-long fashion. Sometimes that contrast can be used to effect. You did make me wonder though if Young Girl would have raised quite so many alarm bells if it was performed as a Scott Walker melodrama.
I think Martin's response perfectly encapsulated how, as 21st Century men, we are conditioned to respond to this question. Because, to paraphrase Bruce Willis in Die Hard, if you're not a part of the solution, you're a part of the problem. And none of us would want to be lumped in with some of the nefarious names mentioned elsewhere in this post.
Martin wasn't the only person to bring up the concept of victim-shaming. Those of you who have been reading this blog far longer than is good for your mental health will remember that back in the glorious days of the Covid Lockdown, my own sanity was saved by regular Whatsapp conversations with my old friend and former colleague, Ben. As a sociologist, I invited him to contribute to this series and he sent me a brief plan for his response to Young Girl, but then he was called away on a super-secret mission somewhere in the groves of Academe. I hesitate to say that Ben is like an Intellectual Ernie, because I don't doubt Ernie's mental capacity one bit. But they both have a habit of going off to save the world at the drop of a hat, and when they do, you won't hear from them again until all communication restrictions have been lifted.
Ben's response would have touched upon societal context, suggesting that Young Girl was the product, not the cause of a "victim-blaming misogyny that was embedded in culture" back then. Anyway, he sends his apologies and asked that I post the image below as an illustration of his response...
All of which brings us to today's final contributor, and I saved her contribution till last as I felt it encapsulated much of what has already been mentioned, while also (like Alyson before her) offering a female perspective of someone who lived through these particular trenches.
As for Gary Puckett & Union Gap, 'Young Girl', I must admit I'm ok with it - no need to cancel. 14 year old me, and all my 14 year old friends at the time too, know that young girl rather too well I think and, to be perfectly honest, after dousing ourselves in Charlie perfume and applying too much lipgloss, I think we would've been more offended at our narrator telling us to hurry home to mummy (I mean, how patronising! It's not even a school night!) But in all seriousness, he is trying to do the decent thing, being very candid about it too - and I'm happy to believe that he does. Plus, it's a good song. Of course if the object of his salacious affection is a lot, lot younger than I've surmised, then we're straying into different territory altogether...but I'm in the camp that thinks that maybe it would say more about the listener than the songwriter to naturally assume that particular scenario.
Hope that sounds ok, and I'm not on my own here!
You're never on your own here, C. You're always among friends.
Young Girl, then - some of you would be quite happy to never hear it again, while others can't help singing along to it (at least in their head). This isn't Room 101 though, and I'm never going to even attempt to reach a conclusion in this series... for me, the debate is enough.
Thank you to everyone for taking the time to contribute. We'll examine another contentious tune soon.
I was unsure if this series would be a success, so I limited the invitations to its maiden voyage. But maybe there are other people reading who would like to take part?
If you'd like to join the Cancel Culture Club Committee and share your opinions on our next dubious ditty, then please drop me a line, or let me know in the comments box, and you're in. The more the merrier, as long as you're not a nutter.
Robert DeNiro played the legendary anti-hero Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, and I figured you'd rather see a picture of him at the top of this week's post than another disgraced Radio 1 DJ.
Of course, there are hundreds of performing artists with Travis as their first or last name. Still, I was surprised by how many acts I found who released records just under that name...
TRAVIS #1
Discogs tells me these guys are an "Obscure US late 60s / early 70s garage psych band from Youngstown, OH." And for discogs to use the word "obscure", they've got to be pretty obscure.
Thankfully, they weren't so obscure as to be missing from the tube of you...
From scenic Surrey in the year of my birth (1972) came a Travis by the name of Paul, along with his mates, who took Paul's surname for a bandname... though they'd later change it to Strange Days.
The Australian Travis, with a tribute to their hometown which sold 4000 copies in 1979. Luckily, they got back together in 2009 to record the video below...
Castleford's own (Graham) Travis, who had "a very varied career in the music business and has been involved on many recordings". The track below comes from 1984.
I reckon it was the move to Goole that ended his career.
The Travis you should all be familiar with, originating in Glasgow in 1990. They didn't take their Robert DeNiro or The Lairy Cornflake, but instead from the character Harry Dean Stanton played in the Wim Wenders Paris, Texas.
I still think Travis were one of the better post-Britpop guitar bands, especially if you saw them live at a festival when it started raining mid-set. Cue their biggest hit and a great feel-good moment for the crowd.
Fran Healey is sporting a particularly fetching orange hairdo these days...
More Japanese punks from 1992. They also had a song called Crazy Crazy, but I can't find that online... because this comes up instead. (And with 3.4 million youtube views, I was very tempted to bend the rules and give those guys their own entry.)
Wisconsin band from 2004, featuring members of Seam and Dis-. I have no idea who Seam or Dis- are, but I really like this song. And it's only two minutes long as well.
Pictured: one Travis Straub from Joplin, Missouri, who released three albums under his first name only between 2008 and 2010. Not sure how he got the shiner. Maybe for going out the wrong door...
We finish today with a Chilean psychedelic trance DJ from the end of the last decade. I might not have included this nonsense but for the fact that I'm superstitious and I don't like to leave it at 13 acts.
I was up in my mum's attic a few months back and I found a load of my old writing. Novels, TV scripts, comic book scripts... all things I wrote before I owned a PC, so I guess it dates back to the late 80s and early 90s. Everything I've written since getting a computer has been saved on memory sticks and external hard-drives, but back then all I had was a crappy word-processor with a tiny screen that used an early form of floppy discs to save my work. (Prior to that, I wrote on a huge, clunky old typewriter... those really were the glory days.)
I've been scanning these old texts (many of which are not very good at all, though they still mean a lot to me) so that I can keep them digitally - I haven't got room for all this mouldering old paper that's been stuck up in an attic for 30+ years... but I wouldn't want to throw any of it away without preserving it somehow.
This process has reconfirmed for me the fact that writing has always been something I've used for Self Help (therapy!): to help me work out my feelings, deal with life experiences, try to make sense of the big mystery.
Back when I spent hours and days and weeks of my teenage and twenty-something life writing all this fiction, I told myself the goal was to be published (or produced)... the mental health benefits I received by putting my words down on paper were an unwitting bonus. I didn't realise how much writing was helping me, but clearly it was - everything I wrote had my own thoughts, feelings and life experiences as its core (no matter how fantastical other elements of the plot might have been), and the sheer amount of time I spent on it speaks for itself.
Writing can be a self-care method for many; helping to unwind and de-stress.
Writing about difficult situations can help us release our feelings in a healthy way. In a study conducted by psychologist James Pennebaker, researchers encouraged individuals to write about their darkest emotions and thoughts regarding a terrible incident. The findings revealed that individuals who wrote about their encounters had considerably fewer physical problems, such as migraines and gastrointestinal issues than those who did not write at all.
This makes me wonder what might have happened if I hadn't spent so much of my youth writing. Would I have been significantly more depressed? Would in turn that have led to physical symptoms? Or... might I have spent more time with friends, trying to build more of a social life and immerse myself in the tribe? Would I have pinged off on a different tangent altogether?
Creative writing forces you to arrange your ideas and put them into words. This can assist you in putting things into perspective and making better judgments. Writing also assists you in becoming more conscious of your own ideas and emotions.
It's worth pointing out that while I was doing all this writing, I wasn't a complete hermit. I did have friends and a facsimile of a social life - just not as wild/busy/varied as many teens and twenty-somethings enjoy. I even stumbled into a couple of romantic relationships. I fit the writing around all that. But I definitely lived in my head - and on my pages - far more than the average bear.
Some may also use creative writing as a way of connecting with others. Sharing tales and perspectives while also learning from, and supporting one another.
Back when I spent so much of my life writing those stories, they were rarely read by anyone else. Occasionally I'd submit one as part of my English degree (the tutors weren't my biggest fans) and one or two other people might have read something I wrote.
And then there were all the agents, publishers and production companies I collected rejection letters from. But I'm not sure they count - clearly they didn't read my submissions in the correct way, otherwise I'd be talking to you while sitting on a huge pile of cash right now.
(That was a joke, by the way. Even when I was an aspiring writer, I was aware that published writers often don't make a lot of money. That never stopped me, so clearly financial reward wasn't high up my list of aspirations. I just wanted to earn enough that I could keep on writing, and make it my life.)
The exception to the "Nobody reads my writing, but I keep on doing it anyway" rule that I lived by back then were the small press comics I put out. These did have a readership, and a particularly vocal one too. I had about 30, 40 regular readers from all across the country, having made a name for myself in the small pond of amateur comics and used the limited outlets available for self-promotion in the pre-internet days to the best of my abilities.
Many of these readers would provide written feedback - I use the term "fanmail" very loosely, but a few folders of glowing handwritten correspondence was among the treasures I discovered in my mum's attic. I even ran a letters page in my most successful book,The Jock, and this would often run to 5 or 6 pages of tiny-typed feedback and discussion. By contrast, when I returned to making small press comics in the new Millennium, though the internet made it far easier to promote your wares and the print quality was far superior to the grainy black and white photocopies of the 90s, I hardly received any written feedback on my work. I sold more copies, but hardly anybody had anything to say about what they'd read - even though an email would have taken far less effort than posting a handwritten letter... such is the world we live in now.
Back to the University of Bolton for one final word about the mental health benefits of writing...
It can make you feel better about yourself as it allows people to see what's going on within your thoughts. You may even earn praise from friends and family after sharing anything you've produced with them. If you don't share your writing, then writing about yourself and the events in your life provides an artistic outlet to express your thoughts without fear of criticism from others. Writing about yourself allows you to ponder on who you are as a person and how much importance each human being has.
And this is where we have to take a step back, to last week's post, and the week before's. Remember our old friend Tiberius? Remember how worried he was about other people's opinions? Remember how we discussed "externalising his self-worth", how Tiberius received a tiny little feel-good dopamine hit every time someone smiled at him or complimented him on his work? Remember that article from the Harvard Business Review that advised Tiberius to Stop Basing Your Self-Worth on Other People’s Opinions? Well, here's a little more from that...
Externalizing our self-worth, when it works, can yield short-term benefits. We get emotionally and chemically rewarded when we succeed. Our hypothalamus produces dopamine, often referred to as the feel-good neurotransmitter. Our self-esteem gets lifted, leaving us feeling safe, secure, and superior.
But dependency on external validation and social approval has a dark alter ego that reveals itself over time because outsourcing our self-worth undermines the basic human needs of competence, autonomy, and relatedness.
If, as a writer, you live for your readers' responses, that way lies madness. Because what if they don't like what you've written? I was lucky back in my small press comic days, because almost all the letters I received were positive or at least offered constructive criticism. The folk who didn't like my writing, frankly, couldn't be bothered to go to the trouble and expense of mailing me a kicking. Meanwhile, the rejection letters I received from publishers and agents... while every one of them was a heartbreaking kick in the balls... most went out of their way to be bland, neutral, faintly encouraging and inoffensive.
Nowadays, the only writing I have the time, energy or inclination for is this nonsense right here. I still get all the mental health benefits mentioned above, along with the added dopamine hits of a tiny group of discerning readers who occasionally drop me a kind word in the comment's section. But if I was in a small pond when I was self-publishing comics, I'm in a miniscule lagoon right now... though it's a relatively safe and warm lagoon, compared to the vicious, unforgiving ocean of the internet at large. Many people - especially young people - are living their whole lives on the cruel seas of social media, desperate for a bright wave of dopamine, but ever too often pulled down into the murky depths of... well, you get the picture. I extended that metaphor much further than I intended to. Hack writing.
When SHFC returns after its Easter break, we will finally confront THE MENTAL HEALTH TIME-BOMB of Social Media. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Because my inside is outside My right side's on the left side 'Cause I'm writing to reach you now But I might never reach you Only want to teach you, about you
You may know him better as the lead singer of the Georgia Satellites.
8. Moorland flowers explode like stars... just like Caine.
Heather goes nova.
Jules: First I'm gonna deliver this case to Marcellus, then, basically, I'm just gonna walk the earth. Vincent: What'cha mean walk the earth? Jules: You know, like Caine in Kung Fu. Walk from place to place, meet people... get into adventures.
I've got your picture for next week sorted, said Charity Chic. I have an album by a band called 16 Horsepower.
And you know what? I thought I did too. But it appears to have disappeared from my music library. Anyway, thank you for the reminder.
The biggest problem about the Number 16 on our countdown was summed up by Lynchie that many suggestions might be "a bit dodgy - older men singing about mid-teen girls."
In more cynical / enlightened / post-Glitter & Saville times, we may now find these songs creepy... but part of me thinks they were never actually meant that way. Oh for a return to innocence...
For your information though, Charmain Carr was 23 when that was filmed. Which takes us back to a point I raised last week. (Go look it up yourself, it takes me long enough to write all this stuff down once without going back and reading it again.)
Looking back on being 16 is something that gets harder as the years go by. There are a few songs written from that perspective, and C was the first to offer this very popular suggestion, saying, So good, in so many ways, and no dodgy lyrics about young girls! First heard when I was still 14 and sixteen sounded old...
The Swede also nominated this one. Brian added: It was No. 15 on my Festive 50 for 2019, and indie couple Amelia and Rob deserve a moment on top of the heap.
A new band to me, but one that immediately went on the Check Out pile...
That has to be the strangest video I've seen in a long time, featuring some reasonably big name actors, in some kind of bizarre SNL sketch that doesn't fit the song at all.
Anyway... the winner. Which will probably be obvious by now. It was first suggested by Lynchie, then seconded by Swiss Adam, though I'm sure a few others would have given it consideration.
While waiting for inspiration to strike (and free time to ponder), I'm going through the backlog of old ideas for Top Tend I never got round to writing up. This one is pretty self-explanatory, other than to say that although Cyndi's album was called She's So Unusual, there wasn't a title track...
Aliens don't need to come to earth in spaceships anymore to find out about human life. They can just watch old youtube videos. Of Kiss. And vow never to come near this scary, scary planet called Earth.
And even scarier than Kiss, there's Cliff. Video must be watched. Those pants are too tight, Cliff. And why is that baby flying on a wire? Safeguarding!
One of those Beatles song I'm kind of on the fence about. On Abbey Road, it works. On its own... it just sounds like them mucking about in the studio for seven and a half minutes without much of an idea of a tune.
Sing something simple. Here's ten songs where singers tell us to sing. Lazy buggers: they want us to do our job for them. Or... maybe they just want to remind us how good it feels to sing sometimes.
If you can't handle that, you may prefer the Glen Campbell version. If I were Fran Healy, I'd consider my job done once Glen Campbell had recorded one of my songs.
The other day, Martin (not Rossiter) was lamenting the fact that this Martin has only ever recorded one solo album. I couldn't agree more. This was a cracker. We demand more!