Louise makes me buy Heat every Tuesday. (She only reads it for the TV section, apparently.) It's hard to tell which is the new issue since every week without fail the cover features either Kate, Meghan, Posh Spice or that woman who used to present This Morning.
7. My Father's Cars... abbreviated.
My father's car was a Jaguar. (It wasn't. He always drove Fords.)
Imagine you’re standing in line in a coffee shop, waiting to
be served. It’s a long line and all the people in front of you are ordering
those silly drinks that involve whipped cream, caramel syrup and heart
attacks. What might you do to entertain yourself?
Now imagine you’re sitting at a bus stop and the bus is
late. These days, lots of city centre bus stops have those little clocks fitted
which tell you how long you have to wait till the next bus arrives. Only
instead of counting down, that number just seems to be stuck… or even getting
bigger. How might you pass the time?
Finally, imagine you’ve arranged to meet friends in the pub,
at the cinema, or somewhere in the centre of town. Only they’re running late
and you’ve got nothing to do but wait. Or… is there something else you could be
doing?
If your answer to any of those questions involves checking
your phone, then you’re suffering one of the major symptoms of the modern
malaise. And hey, maybe you’re not going on Tiktok or Snapchat or the book of
faces… maybe you’re doing some online banking, trying to crack today’s Wordle
or reading a fascinating blog post about how many different bands there are
called The Jerks (quite a few, in case you’re wondering: I’m sure I’ll get to
them in due course). Whatever it is, I can pretty much guarantee you’re not
doing what you would have done in this same situation 30 or 40 years ago.
You’re not allowing yourself to be bored.
And your brain is suffering because of that.
We’ve talked a fair bit about the mental health dangers of
internet and social media addiction during this series.
Part of the problem is ease of access. When the internet arrived on the scene about
30 years ago, you had to sit down at a computer, dial it up (which could take
up to 5 minutes in my house) and then crawl around a clunky, always crashing
cyberspace with limited options and plenty of built-in frustration.
Remember
watching slowly while every image on the page downloaded like one of those
novelty pens you turn upside down to watch the lady slowly lose her clothing?
(I don’t know why that particular simile popped into my mind. It’s not as
though anybody ever used the internet to look at naked pictures.)
That’s all changed. Today, we carry the internet with us
wherever we go, so every possible distraction is available instantly, any time
we want it. Queueing up in a coffee shop, waiting for the bus, killing time in response to ever-delayed friends… we need never be bored again! You see it everywhere you look.
Whenever people are alone with nothing to do, out comes their phone. They don’t
even have to be standing or sitting still. They’re even using it as a
distraction from the interminable emptiness of walking down the street (watch
out for that lamp post!).
“It’s good to be bored sometimes, to have that dead time. That’s when ideas come. If we’re on our phone checking Facebook, we lose some precious time that previously we used for daydreaming: gazing out of the window and having ideas blossom.”
Once you start reading up on this, you'll find hundreds of articles dedicated to the benefits of boredom. Scientists, business leaders and new age hippies all agree - being bored is good for your brain. We all know we get eyestrain if we stare at screens too long. Turns out we also get brain strain.
Scientist Catherine Price, author of How to Break Up With Your Phone runs digital detox sessions for chronic screen addicts to help them repair their brains. Tech writer Kevin Roose of the New York Times consulted her when he became aware of his own addiction...
My symptoms were all the typical ones: I found myself incapable of reading books, watching full-length movies or having long uninterrupted conversations. Social media made me angry and anxious, and even the digital spaces I once found soothing (group texts, podcasts, YouTube rabbit holes) weren’t helping.
In his article, Roose explains how he went about a full digital detox...
If I was going to repair my brain, I needed to practice doing nothing. So during my morning walk to the office, I looked up at the buildings around me, spotting architectural details I’d never noticed before. On the subway, I kept my phone in my pocket and people-watched — noticing the nattily dressed man in the yellow hat, the teens eating hot tacos and laughing, the kid with Velcro shoes. When a friend ran late for our lunch, I sat still and stared out the window instead of checking Twitter.
Since starting my new job, I finally find myself in a privileged position of being able to do nothing at certain times of the day. I mostly teach students 1:1 or in small groups, and in English that will often involve setting a lengthy task (creative writing is best) and then letting students get on with it. In my old job, I would have used that time to circulate the room, answer questions, help people who were stuck... and if time permitted, maybe catch up on a bit of marking or paperwork. In my current job, I get to stare out the window. How wonderful is that? I realise, I'm very fortunate. Most teachers would kill for the same opportunity. I wish I could give them all the gift of boredom... the profession would be in a much healthier state if it was full of bored teachers rather than teachers on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Although, to be honest, I'm not really sure boredom is what we're talking about here. If you asked me if I was ever bored, my first response would probably be: never. I always have a million and one things I want to do... or think about. The only time I do feel bored is when I'm stuck doing something I don't want to... like a lengthy meeting or an interminable online training session about something I already know. When I talk about giving the gift of boredom, that's not what I want to offer. What I really want is to give you all the chance to get busy... doing nothing.
Allowing our minds to wander can be hugely beneficial to our wellbeing, our imagination and our creativity. Surely this is great news for everyone - doing nothing is good for us!
Special mention to the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.
And for anyone who might be wondering... much as I love it, I couldn't include Motorcycle Emptiness by the Manics as it's not about bikes at all. It's, like, a metaphor, man.
70s one hit wonder in the vein of Kung Fu Fighting, although Spedding made a pretty good career for himself as a session musician afterwards, working with everyone from Roxy Music to The Wombles. He also produced the very first Sex Pistols demos and ground his axe on Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds.
An old Serge Gainsbourg number, updated and translated by the Bad Seed and Anita Lane. I was kinda surprised that this was the only Harley song I could find.
A joyously upbeat ska-tinged indie-pop song about a young lad with a pushbike who wishes he had something a bit more powerful between his legs. Like Dexys meets the Supernaturals. Great "one take" video too.
Forget the hard rock romanticism of motorcycling - trust Richard Hawley to get lost on an old bike full of holes, somewhere off the road to Scarborough.
And this is where we start to rock. From the final Icicle Works album, released in 1990, although it's actually closer to a solo album since Ian McNabb had booted the rest of the band out by then.
Long before he took over from David Lee Roth in Van Halen (imagine filling those shoes!), Sammy Hagar was leader singer of another band named after its lead guitarist, (Ronnie) Montrose. You may laugh at the idea of a rock song about a scooter... but this one rocks harder than most Harleys.
The most obvious song on the list, from the most acclaimed motorcycle movie ever.
It is, of course, always worth mentioning that this song was written by Mars Bonfire. Out rock 'n' roll that, if you can!
And in case you were wondering, I had to disqualify Born To Run despite Bruce's irresistible invitation to "wrap your legs round these velvet rims and strap your hands cross my engine". Because if I included BTR every time I wanted to shoehorn it in, it'd be Number One every week. And that wouldn't be fair on everybody else.
The best motorcycle songs all involve some kind of tragedy, and even though the hero of Richard Thompson's masterpiece doesn't meet his end on the back of his beloved bike (instead, he takes a shotgun blast to the chest), he still leaves the titular VBL to the love of his life: Red Molly.
Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl
Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do
They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52
He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys
He said I've got no further use for these
I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome
Swooping down from heaven to carry me home
And he gave her one last kiss and died
And he gave her his Vincent to ride
The ultimate 60s teenage death disc. (If only somebody like Taylor Swift would revive that genre!) Leader of the Pack has been much covered and/or parodied over the years, from The Detergents' "tragic" Leader of the Laundromat to the hilariously camp Julian Clary (Joan Collins Fan Club) version ("Is he picking you up after school today?" "No, I don't go to school anymore... I'm 28 now.") and the even camper Twisted Sister cover. And let's not forget Terry by Twinkle, which tells the same story, without the tune.
But that's not to say the Shangri-Las got there first: indeed, the very first teenage motorcycle tragedy hit came courtesy of Lieber & Stoller back in the mid-50s... Black Denim Trousers & Motorcycle Boots by The Cheers.
1. Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell
What's left to say about Bat Out Of Hell? I've been reading Meat's autobiography recently, and also watched the BBC4 documentary on his career. I never knew he'd released a record prior to this, a Motown album of duets with a female singer called Stoney. Sadly it's not available on either CD or download or I'd check it out. I'm sure it'd be interesting, though disappointing as most of his non-Steinman recordings inevitably are. (Rumours of a Jim & Meat reunion record to be released later this year have me drooling like a puppy.)
Meat Loaf + Jim Steinman = sheer alchemy. There's nothing else like Jim Steinman's songwriting anywhere in the solar system. It's the place where rock 'n' roll genius meets pure batshit insanity. And although there have been some fine Steinman records NOT sung by Meat, the two go together like Jonathan & Jennifer Hart: when they meet... it's moidah! Far smarter musicologists than I have written copious amounts on what makes this their masterpiece, so there's not much else I can add. But if I ever were to hit the highway on a silver Black Phantom bike, this would be playing in my head. If you don't get revved up by its power, you're missing out on one hell of a ride...
