That’s one
of the main lessons my dad taught me, along with “If you can’t say something
good about somebody, don’t say owt!” and “You can’t fall: there’s nothing to stop you.” He told me that last
one whenever I went up a ladder on the farm. I’m not sure I ever really
believed it, but I did believe the one about doing your job right.
My dad had a
number of different jobs in his life, although he always said that farming was
more of a hobby. He got the farming bug when he was a boy, helping out on one
of the local farms in Marsden. Around that time, he got blood
poisoning after being bitten by his baby sister, and he had to stay off
school… but ended up playing on the farm with his arm in a sling.
As he grew
older, dad started playing for local football and cricket teams, and also
joined Marsden Brass Band, playing baritone, euphonium, and in the end a tenor
trombone, which was his favourite. He also ventured down the valley into enemy
territory – Slawit! – where he occasionally played in a dance band, though he
said that was much harder. No wonder he admired Glenn Miller.
Once in
Slawit, he started hanging out at Nields Youth Club on a Friday night, which is
where he met my mum. She came right up to him and introduced herself. Dad was speechless. His mates bet him half a crown he couldn’t get a
date with her… but even though he won the bet, they never paid him. Still, he
won a lot more than half a crown that night, and he knew it too.
When they
met, dad was working as an apprentice joiner at Bagley’s Funeral Directors in
Marsden. I heard a lot about Mr. Bagley when I was growing up, though I never
met him. Often, I’d find my dad working in his shed or round the back on the
farm, doing some amazing construction job that defied gravity and didn’t look
possible for one man on his own. If ever I asked him how he’d done it, he’d
reply: “Mr. Bagley helped me”. I used to look round to see where Mr. Bagley was
hiding, but I couldn’t ever find him.
When he was
21, dad took a break from joinery to do his National Service… though they did
allow him a week off to get married. When it came time to cut the wedding cake,
dad sliced open his hand with the knife… the first of many hand injury stories
we could tell, including the time my sister had to drive him to hospital after he
got his hand trapped in the muck-spreader. Another time, I had to take him to
A&E after he almost sliced his thumb off with a circular saw. In
hospital, dad was less than complimentary about the junior doctor they sent to
stitch him up… “He’s just a kid!”
There are a
lot more stories to tell from my dad’s time on the farm… and I was surprised
how many involved guns. Like the time Harry Bamforth, another local farmer, threatened
dad with his shotgun for taking a hay cart along his lane… dad kept going,
driving the tractor straight over Harry’s toes.
Or what about the time my brother wanted to prove what a crack shot he was by shooting at the shovel my dad was
leaning on? He missed. Killed a chicken instead. “Murderer!”
And then there’s
the time, not very long ago, when dad dug out his old shotgun one last time to shoot a large rat
that had started visiting the farm. He dismantled the gun soon after shooting a
hole in his grandson's car.
With all
that shooting, it’s no wonder dad’s favourite actor was John Wayne. One of his
favourite films was The Quiet Man… and I guess he could be something of a quiet
man himself. And yet, if he had a job to do… like when he started working for
British Car Auctions… he could get up on a stage and command the room. And like
all the best auctioneers, he could talk really fast. I remember watching him do
the charity auctions at my school. I felt so proud, seeing him do that, racing
through the bids, then banging down his gavel after the final one. That’s
something I took from him… it’s how I can stand up at his funeral and deliver this eulogy. Catch me
afterwards though, and I probably won’t have anything to say to you. Much like
my dad.
I’ve got two
more stories to tell. Firstly, one about a crazy guy who used to drive round Holt
Head in a rickety old van with a toilet strapped on the roof. One day he
stopped and got chatting with my dad, and afterwards my brother asked what they’d
been talking about.
“He wants to
be a local councillor,” dad explained, “but to apply, he has to be a land
owner. He wanted to know if I could sell him a plot of land, so he could
register.”
My brother was
shocked. “You’re not going to sell him anything, are you?”
“Why not? He
seems alright. And he only wants to buy one square foot…”
Finally,
there’s the time we lost Fly. Fly was a sheepdog, and the first pet I really
knew, so when she died I was devastated. I cried for a week. In the end, dad took
me out in the field where he’d buried her, and he gave me a hammer and a chisel
and showed me how to chip her name into a big stone on the wall. Then he left
me to it, making a headstone for the dog. I felt so much better after doing
that.
Taken from Rufus Wainwright's album of Shakespeare Sonnets, Take All My Loves.
Onto the business at hand then: what did you have for me this week?
Let's start with last week's winner, Douglas, who found himself struggling a little this time...
"I can offer little new regarding the 29s from my own corpus of beloved songs and artists, despite having scoured through some 2500 LPs, 500 CDs, and a few thousand files on the hard drives and mp3s."
Blimey - that's dedication.
"So I hit the search engines, and came across a few songs that were new to me, with 29 in the title, including:"
"29" by Loic Nottet (who, despite being a young male Belgian singer, here most puts me in mind of Adele)
I can definitely hear that. "Loïc Nottet", on the other hand, is an anagram waiting to happen.
"Ryan Adams - 29 (an artist entirely on my periphery, and who, on the strength of this song, seems likely to remain there)"
Ryan Adams made two or three excellent albums early in his career, although he lost his quality control over the years and has recently been dragged into a bit of a #metoo scandal, so he loses points for that as well.
"And perhaps the best of the 3, Gin Blossoms - 29, who at very least fit in some nice jangly guitars into a pretty decent tune with some appropriately wistful lyrics."
Yes. I'm rather fond of the Gin Blossoms also, so that would be my winner from your selections.
Over to Martin, who ticked quite a few off my list...
Then came Alyson, who's petitioning for a return of Randy Tuesdays or Kenny Wednesdays. One thing at once, eh? I'm still not back up to full steam. She did have this to offer though...
"A date this week rather than a time but Chicago did an anti-war kind of song called Someday (August 29, 1968) - Included is real audio of the crowds at an infamous demonstration."
Never heard that before, but I did like it. I always enjoy early Chicago when they had a brass section.
Martin stole many of Rigid Digit's suggestions this week, but RD did dig out the following...
"Simultaneously the best and worst album ever released..."
"From it, Pachuco Cadaver opens with the philosophical line:"
A squid eating dough in a Polyethylene bag is fast and bulbous
"Fanciful nonsense?"
I've to admit, RD, I tried very hard with TMR back in the day, but couldn't ever find my way into it.
"But the 29 bit comes later:"
Got her wheel out of a B-29 Bomber, Brody knob amber
I'm less surprised nobody predicted this week's winner though. It has featured on this blog previously, but probably isn't that well known in the real world.
Ten songs celebrating the best way to get rid of your loose change on a Saturday night.
Special mention to Jukebox The Ghost... and Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox (check out their cover of All About That Bass... so much nicer than the original.)
Knocks The Rubettes - Jukebox Jive out of the Top Ten, largely because of the trumpet of Harry James... and the fact that my dad is a huge Glenn Miller fan.
There were plenty of country songs to choose from this week, but this one wins because it has the best title... and also kind of retells the story of our Number One song, with a less successful outcome.
You can call me stubborn You can call me a snob You can even call me downright mean... But I’ve got the finest record collection That you’ve ever seen
If you prefer your country a little more old style yee-haw, can I point you towards the splendidly monikered Dick Curless and his dynamic duo: Jukebox Man and Drop Some Silver In The Jukebox.
Bob Stanley's evocative lyrics + Sarah Cracknell's breathy vocals = pure bliss.
I was just 15 In November '82 When I would meet you after school And there was bonfires on Halloween Frosty little windows All the songs we used to listen to each time...
Paul Heaton's doing pretty well around these parts lately, hardly a week goes by that he doesn't crop up in one form or another. Here he is railing against both bigots and the establishment (and the bigoted establishment) and proposing some interesting trade agreements via his hidden jukebox...
I don't claim to be the world's biggest RATM fan, but here they nick an old Allen Ginsberg poem and do amazing things with it. If you're gonna call yourself Rage Against The Machine, you need to live up to that name!
Could be the best thing Somerset's Mick Jones and New York's Lou Gramm ever did together. Though they're far more well known for wanting to know what love is, this one rocks the jukebox just like it should. Used to great effect in the musical / movie Rock of Ages too...
One for John Peel fans, evoking memories of a holiday romance through snapshot lyrics. The least rock 'n' roll record on this list, but it works beautifully.
A lighthouse sending its light Out across Thurso bay at night To Blakeney Point and back again Walking in the ruins Of Binham Priory Abba on the jukebox at Par Sands A two way trip on the Bodinnick ferry
I picked up a pristine copy of Sound Affects (the album this comes from) for just £1 from the local charity shop a couple of weeks back. Bargain - even though I already owned most of the songs on various compilations. Weller's "pretty green" is outdated now as pound notes are no longer in existence... but even when they were, he wouldn't have been able to put them in his jukebox and play all the records in the hit parade, since jukeboxes only take coins. Or am I taking that a bit too literally?
1. Joan Jett - I Love Rock 'n' Roll
If you don't believe this should be Number One, I suggest you watch the video and then reassess your rear ass from your elbow. Not only does red-leather clad Joan know she's met her teenage heartthrob (cradle snatcher!) just because of the song he picks, she also manages to reference that other popular term for a jukebox - a "record machine". Hell, it rhymes with more things that jukebox, which is why Chuck Berry, Van Halen and even Glenn Miller shoehorned it into to their lyrics too. Maybe I'll do a Top Ten Record Machine Songs some other time so I can play Joan again.
The video manages to be both terrifically wild and incredibly tame (by today's standards), and to paraphrase Kris Kristofferson... if you don't love Joan Jett, then you can kiss my arse...
Which one would you spend your last pound coin to hear again?
Volume 1 featured songs about getting someone's number... this time, it's songs that feature actual phone numbers. Mostly in the title; occasionally, prominently within the chorus.
Hawkshank changes his number when his other half leaves because the only callers he gets are asking for her. He leaves his new number out there though... just in case that special lady ever wants him back.
Hawkshank died in the same plane crash that took Patsy Cline from us.
Tina finds this number scrawled on the wall of the lady's room. And she actually calls it. Serves her right if Fred Schneider answers. Phew - the number's been disconnected!
If you're havin' trouble with your high school head
He's givin' you the blues You wanna graduate but not in 'is bed Here's what you gotta do
Pick up the phone, I'm always home Call me anytime
Just ring: 362436, hey
I lead a life of crime
AC/DC, so the story goes, were sued by an American couple who were getting hundreds of prank calls as a result of "their phone number" being included in this song. But anyone calling was mishearing the lyrics of the song - hearing the "hey" as an "8" to complete the couple's actual phone number.
