I don't want to live in a world without Tina Turner.
I realise that's a sweeping statement, especially considering I've only mentioned her name 18 times since this blog began, which is nothing compared to many of the artists who pop up here. But when I think about the legends we've lost in this blog's lifetime - Bowie and Prince being the biggest, but then we get onto Aretha, Tom Petty, Chuck Berry, Meat Loaf, Glen Campbell, George Michael... all the rest... well, Tina's up there with the best of them. She is a legend, and growing up in the 80s, she was always there, with her huge hair, her enormous smile, her high-kicking, sassy-strutting legs, the lips that could give Jagger a run for his money, the sheer charisma and star quality that transcended the music and made her seem untouchable, immortal.
And then there's the music. So many great songs, or (particularly in the latter part of her career) songs that would have been average if given to any other performer, but Tina made them live. Of course, average is not the word for the song below, recorded when she was just 27 in 1966, but still one of the greatest performances ever committed to vinyl.
Ike had nothing to do with that one. He just did a deal with Spector to take his usual cut of the money. The record itself was considered a flop at the time. We all know the stories. They're part of the legend. And legends shouldn't ever die. They should stay alive forever.
Tina Turner's name gets dropped in hundreds of pop songs. The majority of them are rap records which occasionally make reference to her turbulent private life, but more often channel her as a metaphor for strength, resilience and power. Here's one that doesn't quite do all that, but I dug it anyway...
Beyond rap, here are a few tunes that will help maintain her legacy, starting with a typically self-effacing (!) tribute from Little Richard himself...
Ike and Tina Turner got an earthquake sound
But I'm the man from Macon and I'm gonna put 'em down!
Rod and Tina probably did have tea together after recording the tune below... which isn't as good as the original (because nothing could be), but it's better than you remember...
Today's final song, I had in mind from the start. It's the best track from my 17th favourite record of last year, and it seems the most appropriate to play on the day we mourn another lost legend...
Ben: This came up on my Google news feed. I really don't understand this. What were they expecting with that road being so close?
There's a really really nice house near us that we keep seeing but it's next door to a pub. When restrictions are lifted, that is going to be very noisy because I know it is next to a pub.
Rol: I like the sound of the double-deckers going past out house. Especially at night.
The busses that used to go past my old place I liked. It kept the timing of things. But if you buy a new build that is clearly next to an A road. Surely. Surely. You know what you're in for.
Having lived in a new build (albeit one that someone else had lived in for 18 months from new and we then lived in for 18 months and I suspect the new people won't last that long), I can confirm that nobody should ever buy a new built because the companies that build them don't give a shit about quality, durability, location et al. Bunch of crooks.
Even though we don't really speak or have much affinity, my dad is a joiner and a bloody good one. I used to labour during summers from uni for him and his crew. Quantity surveyors don't even bother checking his roofs, they just trust him. I remember times as a kid where he wasn't happy with stuff and went back out, like a time I was 8 and he went back out at 9pm because he'd done something slightly wrong at a property and it ate at him so he went back to fix it before it had time to set. And he hates the idea of new builds because of the people who work on them.
My dad was a joiner too. You speak to the older generation of tradesmen and they are shocked by what goes on these days. No integrity.
It's almost like things were better in the past...
Ben sends this in reply...
I don't like it when I'm photographed without my consent.
That's why I recorded you instead.
You used the magic camera box. Probably stole my soul while you were at it.
I tried but nothing came out.
It's long gone.
Ben replies with a link to this video...
Relevance?
That's you and your soul duetting.
My soul is Mel C?
No.
You're Mel C.
Surely I'm crinkly old Bryan. I don't feel like Mel C. I've never once been sporty.
And neither has my soul.
I can't help the truth. This is the way.
Mel C was always my favourite Spice Girl. She was the most real, least cartoon.
These guys?They're not really cartoons but I can see your mix-up.
The punchline to that should have been, "No, that was All Saints."
All Saints were something special. They made a RHCP song sound good.
I thought I'd share my tea with you. Made a wild mushroom bulgogi.
With pickled cucumber.
Well, not quite a bulgogi as I used gochujang as the base sauce.
That looks like something out of the food section of the Grauniad, which Louise has quit reading in horror.
I'll buy in some chicken dippers and oven chips for tomorrow.
Send you a picture of them.
And before you say, yes, they do vegan ones.
My sister has some vegan chickens. They won't even eat worms.
That's a Tim Vine style joke. I'm very disappointed.
It's a true statement. I can't help if it offends your Ben Elton right on alt-comedy sensibilities.
Alright, Lee Mack.
I like Lee Mack. He's old school without being old school. And very sharp.
I knew you wouldn't like him though.
Little bit of politics, as Ben Elton used to say.
Everything is politics.
Name me something, I'll show you the politics.
Snails.
Ben sends me a 21 page report entitled "Snails, Mining & Climate Change: The Politics of Biodiversity In New Zealand". (I'll spare you the link.)
"Name me something, I'll show you something you're totally not interested in. 21 pages of it."
It's not an area I'm familiar with but the underlying argument is that politics encompasses everything in its exploitation. Also, whilst I'm boring you, in relation to our conversation the other day, Springer released this a few years ago and it was very good. Crude for academia but a good read and outlines why I am not neoliberal.
Is that Frank Springer?
Simon Springer.
And his amazing dancing bear.
Sadly, they broke up.
Political differences, I bet.
I always smile when I remember Paul Heaton saying The Beautiful South broke up because of musical similarities.
I like Paul Heaton.
Well, of course. He's a Marxist. He made sure every member of the band got equal royalties.
I like that he still lives in a terraced house.
And didn't he buy the whole street and give away the rest of the houses?
I'm not sure on that, I just know about having a house. He lived round the corner from some mates at uni. And he writes a cracking pop song.
No argument there. Though he's gone off the boil a bit lately.
Every time my phone buzzes with a text, I think it's you with another Marxist rant.
I think I've only ever done two or three Marxist rants at you. To be critical of the state isn't exclusively a Marxist endeavour.
Are you still putting my witticisms on your blog? Do you call it "Rol over Benthoven"? That's very bad if you do and I'd expect better wordplay from you.
I call it Conversations With Ben. Like Conversations With God, the dark side.
Most people seem to believe I make you up.
By most people, I mean 3 out of the 4 people in the world with nothing better to do with their lives.
I think we've covered the fact that I am definitely a person you manifested into existence to cope with COVID. You did know a Ben in Barnsley but he died 30 years ago.
And only I know where the body is.
Now you're beginning to remember.
I need a Sharpie to write it on my arm so I don't forget again.
When you're doing a PhD you get people try and impress you at weddings and other places of bigger gatherings.
Like they're trying to prove their intelligence and interests to you.
But it's like, I like comics and watching cartoons.
Mainly from older people as well.
Weird you should say that, because I was just typing that the older I get, the less time I have for intellectual snobbery.
But then I guess I've never been an intellectual.
Most of the time it's ok as I try to instantly move onto hobbies instead to steer it away but then sometimes you get those "university of life, me, mate" people.
The last 60 seconds of this is my answer to anyone who claims high art is better than dumb fun... I can't believe they edited it from the single version. It's the best 60 seconds Jon Bon Jovi ever recorded.
(Sometimes Ben's silence speaks volumes.)
I don't care your education level, I can still talk to you, They try and like prove themselves, like Ricky Gervais and his best mate in the Office.
Ricky Gervais is actually like that in real life though.
Start reeling off facts. Like, why would I give a shit about the capital cities of the world or the scientific name of something? It has very little relation to anything in my life. I'm awful at geography and I'm comfortable and happy to say that.
It's OK if you're a 7 year old. Sam knows all the capital cities. But he'll grow out of it.
Then again, what about pop trivia...?
I know what I know, pop trivia wise.
It doesn't make me better or worse in intelligence but there's a lot of people out there who think that's a marker of intelligence.
I'm not sure. I think they cling to it because they don't know much else. I certainly do.
Welcome back to the Hot 100 as we come of age - backwards - with only 17 more weeks to go before I get to have a lie down. As has become customary in recent weeks, there's a ton of songs to get through... so let's get cracking.
Fascinating facts about Pete Wingfield (I bought "18 With A Bullet" in 1975 - fantastically fun lyrics): He produced Searching for the Young Soul Rebels the first album by Dexys Midnight Runners - and also produced The Proclaimers "Sunshine on Leith". He's played keyboards for Van Morrison, The Everly Brothers, The Housemartins and many more. Sadly however, he did play piano for The Alan Parsons Project, but nobody's perfect.
In the blue corner, here's... erm... Lynchie...
...and then there's the great Alice Cooper song: "I'm Eighteen".
I definitely second FBCB's suggestion of Alice Cooper's 'I'm Eighteen'. A few years ago Mr SDS did his best Alice Cooper impression at a fancy dress party (it was so hot his eyeliner ran and the great thing was that it didn't matter...) Somewhere out there now there's a priceless photo of Alice, Slash and Ozzy together in a scout hut in Essex.
And this week's winner...?
Well, it's obvious really, isn't it?
Well done, Lynchie.
Next week - 17. Off the top of my head, there can be only one winner. You may seek to persuade me otherwise...
Welcome to a new Friday feature in which I drive round the British Isles and find a song for every place I stop. It's a little bit like Alyson's American Road Trip series without all the fascinating research and anecdote. Also, where Alyson looks at America state by state, I'll be visiting towns and villages, often off the beaten track, and probably won't stop at any big cities. (That way, if Alyson ever wants to do an equivalent county by county trip around the UK, I won't have stolen her thunder.)
Anyway, I thought I'd begin in my own home town of Huddersfield. Its most famous musical connection is that the Sex Pistols played their last UK gigs here back in the punk era before that all fell apart for them. Famous Huddersfieldians include Sir Patrick Stewart and Jodie Whittaker (so both a Star Trek captain AND a Dr. Who come from my home town), plus James Mason and Harold Wilson. Apparently Roger Moore lived round her for a while (giving us a Bond too!) - and Bryan Adams' mum originated from the town, before deciding to seek a better life in Canada. Musically, the best we have to offer are Billy Currie from Ultravox and Visage, Roy Castle, Evile, and my favourite poet, Simon Armitage, who led short-lived, much-missed local band The Scaremongers.
Songs that mention Huddersfield are very thin on the ground though. It's not a name that trips off the tongue or easily rhymes with anything, and most songwriters are a bit lazy that way. The only two references I could find are this...
I wanna be free as a Gibraltar child Drunk at fourteen on pints of mild Ignoring preachers, in padded tiles (Steel-toed caps that sink into the shins)
Instead I'll pass through Huddersfield To muster out the change and courage I can yield I'm young again, waiting out the backfield (We're not spending any of your time)
And this...
A "comedy" b-side written about the band's manager, Rod Smallwood, who left Huddersfield to live in L.A. No idea why. It appears he wasn't very happy there.
Life in a city living in L.A.
Is a long way from Huddersfield town
The back of the Rainbow's a long way from heaven
But that's where he get's his pork pie
Limos and ladies they're driving him queasy
Rugby and cricket's unknown
Baseball and football they're making him lazy
Your fan club says "Rodney come home"
As Iron Maiden songs go, this is pretty easy on the ears, but be warned: Rodney raps in the middle.
Yes, this song is in my record collection, and I've probably listened to it more than most other Iron Maiden songs I own. But its comedic appeal probably doesn't extend much beyond Castle Hill (as pictured above)…
Please let me know if you're aware of any other songs that mention Huddersfield.
Next Friday, I'll be driving 242 miles down the M1 to a small Buckinghamshire town to check out its Lost Property office.
If you're a music blogger, and you choose the records you write about because you think other people will think they're cool... and by extension that you are cool for liking them... then you are being a music blogger for the wrong reason. Go be a music journalist if you want people to think you're cool. Go work for the NME. (Well, what's left of it.) Some people - the ones who follow the crowd - may end up thinking you're cool. The rest of us will probably think you're a tool who occasionally gets it right, but... well, at least you'll be getting paid.
No, if you're a music blogger, you you never choose your songs because of what other people might think - about the songs or about you. You should just go ahead and pick the songs you like, write about them, and please yourself. Screw what anybody else thinks. The really cool people (not the NME journalists) will respect you for that, even if they don't agree with you.
Many fine (and cool) songs were suggested for the number 69. Here's a selection...
Oh, and of course, Charity Chic had to throw in a mention for this lot, who would have been at the top of the page were it not for my favourite Magnetic Fields album...
Other contenders from my own record collection included...
Phew - 69 appears to be an inextricably popular number with popular musicians. Go figure.
In the end though, I refer you all back to my opening paragraphs. There could only be one winner this week, even though I knew it wouldn't be a particularly popular choice in many quarters. It's a song I've written about before here and may even do so again. Sorry if you don't like it: your loss.
(Oh, and in case you're going to accuse me of choosing a year song when there were some fine non-year tracks I could have had instead... well, Bryan himself claims this song isn't about 1969 at all...)
68 next week, and an equally obvious choice for me. We'll see if you agree...
6. Self-destructive patients correct, condense and control.
One where you had to guess the band to identify the song... but I did give you three different clues for the band! (If anyone got this after 9pm last night, apologies.)
3. Good for lighting a fire under your date - when you just want to get out into the country!
Tinder is, I understand, what da young peeps are using to hook up these days. (And the older peeps who are still at it... dating, I mean, since once you're past 40 that other stuff is but a distant memory.)
If you were sick of the city, you'd want to get out to the country.
