As a follow-up to last week's post about there not being a lot of boys named Gary anymore, I promised to tackle girls' names next. And Sam was once again very helpful, particularly when this song popped up on an in-car mixtape...
Still one of Paul Heaton's finest hours, that - and I love the guest appearance by George Michael in the video.
Anyway, as the song played, Sam told me, "there's none of those girls in my school."
(I had to search for that one. Not enough songs about girls called Philippa. There was a Pippa in my 6th form. I fancied her. No chance. She went out with my mate Simon.)
So then, I hear you ask, if Sam doesn't go to school with any of the girls above... what are his female schoolmates called? Well, he knows at least five girls called...
As with the boys' names then, there's been another major shift in what parents are choosing to call their kids these days... and the most popular names are ones that would mostly have belonged to old people when I was a kid.
It's also highly unlikely that Marie will be the name of anyone's latest flame in Gen A... making all these old songs sound even more out of date.
Another one of Richard Herring's Emergency Questions to jump-start our Friday conversations...
What's the worst experience you've ever had in a hotel?
Unlike the Frequent Flyers and Another Holiday Already? types that read this blog, I don't spend a lot of time in hotel rooms. Louise isn't fond of hotels, so most of our family holidays are spent in rented cottages. Sam and I brave a Premier Inn once a year for our annual boy's getaway - he's a big fan of the All You Can Eat breakfast. Imagine his horrid during the post-covid year when we booked into a Travelodge that promised "breakfast included" to discover that it constituted a Kellogg's variety pack (random choice) and a carton of Kia Ora. Never again!
Is that the worst experience I've ever had in a hotel room then? Sam would certainly say so. And I'm not sure I can think of anything worse... no rats or cockroaches or views of the local rubbish dump. I'm sure you guys can help out with that though.
My only other vaguely relevant anecdote today is from a holiday with my sister and her family in my teenage years. This was either Jersey or Brittany... I can't remember which, but they were the only two holidays I went on with them. File this one under disconcerting...
The cottage must have had three bedrooms: one for my sister and her husband, one for their two kids (my eldest nephew is only four years younger than me) and one for me. I'd reached the age where it was no longer cool to go on holiday with my parents, but I wasn't old enough to go off on my own... and I never had mates who suggested a week in Ibiza (thank GOD).
Anyway, I woke up one morning to discover that my pillow was missing. When I looked, it was over the other side of the room... wedged under the door, as though trying to stop someone or something getting in. I hadn't done that myself (not consciously, at least) so I wondered then... and still wonder today... how that happened.
Musicians spend more time in hotel rooms than just about any other profession, except travelling salesmen and Ernie. Most of the time, they're not trashing them and throwing the TV out into the swimming pool (that's just Ernie)... instead, they just sit around writing miserable songs about life on the road...
The most evocative of these doesn't mention the word hotel in its title, but it was the first track I thought of today. Anyone who's seen Lloyd Cole live in the last 25+ years will have heard him explain what a Spectra-Vision girl is...
Just another bunch of would be desperados Failing to pace themselves against the grain Strung out on semantics, Holiday-Inn vigilantes, Late night, early town Am I supposed to sleep, here all alone 'Neath the shadow of the mini-bar, with the promise of a Spectra-Vision girl?
What's the worst experience you've ever had in a hotel?
Another month, another legend gone. Gordon Lightfoot may not be a household name in the UK, where his biggest hit barely scraped the Top 30, but he was loved and respected in his native Canada, in the US, and throughout the musical community, with everyone from Elvis to Dylan to Johnny Cash to Neil Young and Paul Weller singing his praises and covering his songs. My favourite Gordon Lightfoot composition is this one... though The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald comes a close second.
How does Gord (as he was billed on his earliest hits) fare on the jukebox? Well, unsurprisingly, he gets a lot of love from his fellow Canadians, starting with this guy...
She can wear high heels and flannel She can look sexy in a toque She likes snow storms and Gordon Lightfoot And if you're lucky she'll love you
Barrie is a city in Ontario, just north of Toronto. However, Barrie the band comes from Brooklyn, and here they are singing about Michigan.
You never change your clothes Cause denim fades so good Station wagon with the panel wood Gordon Lightfoot if I could Your summer love was all you knew There's nothing left to do But go crazy on you
Outside of Gordon's home country, we arrive first in L.A. where Rivers Cuomo of Weezer has written a terrific tune about some of his favourite artists... and Gordon is the first one he mentions.
Gordon Lightfoot Sang a song About a boat That sank in the lake
Mike Viola is a frequent collaborator of Panic! At The Disco, Jenny Lewis and Andrew Bird, among others. Here, he compiles a list of artists he'd "let in to a very secret club"...
Paul Kelly and the Messengers, Costello, Crowded House Squeeze before that Rolling Stone review that smoked them out The Clash, The Cars, The Who, Gordon Lightfoot, Joni Mitch Graham Parker and the Figgs would definitely make the list
And, in an effort to make this blog more educational...
That's a Tres Leches cake. Looks like a heart attack waiting to happen.
Howe Gelb from Giant Sand always raises a smile when I hear his tunes... even if I haven't got a clue what he's singing about.
Feeling about the brotherhood has got me down and up To no good Feeling about the brotherhood has even got me sitting here Singing like Gordon Lightfoot
Plenty of songs mention the name Lightfoot in their title, not all of them are about the great man himself. I reckon these are though, one way or another...
It's back to Canada for today's final tune though, with a song that doesn't only pay tribute to Gordon Lightfoot... but also his backing band, including John Stockfish, Charlie McCoy and Red Shea...
And Lightfoot
Edwardian, suddenly striped
His hair blondish and poetic
He is less than vinyl perfect
His foot is a precise anchor for the husk and vibrance of his voice
He is the image of Alberta
The side street near Chicago
The grim beauty of Toronto
He is an artist
He is an artist
He is an artist painting Sistine masterpieces of pine and fur and backwoods
Still echoes long ago the winter night of black July and then the outcome
I finally got to see the movie Licorice Pizza (or Liquorice Pizza if you're from this side of the pond) by Paul Thomas Anderson of Boogie Nights & Punch Drunk Love fame. It didn't disappoint. The casting of Alana Haim (of Haim fame) and Cooper Hoofman (son of the late, great Phillip Seymour) was refreshing. Neither of them is conventionally Hollywood, but they have real chemistry, and their on/off relationship feels very real. There are great cameos from Sean Penn, Tom Waits, and best of all, Bradley Cooper, playing Barbra Streisand's (Strei-zand's) real life 70s beau, psychotic movie producer Jon Peters.
For those of you a little too old to feel nostalgic for the 80s, here's a movie that glorifies the 70s - albeit 70s LA, which is about as far from 70s UK as you can get. Still, the sun is always shining, just as it did in our youth. And the music... well, it may not be Slade and Wizzard, but the soundtrack is still full of lost 70s gems (and quite a few from the 50s and 60s too). Of course, there's the ubiquitous Bowie track (Life On Mars, which apparently was stuck on repeat in every jukebox in the world from 1973 onwards), but also tracks from The James Gang, Blood Sweat & Tears, Mason Williams, Taj Mahal and others. Not the obvious tracks either (apart from maybe a well-placed Gordon Lightfoot tune). Best of all though is this bobby dazzler, which turns out to be Suzi Quatro's only US Top 40 hit (shurely shome mishtake), teamed with Smokie's Chris Norman. In the UK, it only made #41...
Oh, and in case you're wondering, Licorice Pizza was the name of an LA record shop... for exactly the reason you'd think.
I had half a mind to feature Alison Krauss at the top of this post, until George said:
I'm sure some one will suggest Alison Moyet but it sure as hell won't be me.
After that, my mind was made up. After all, I have a lot of time for Alison Moyet, writer of one of the smuttiest pop songs ever to find its way into the pop charts (Prince excepted). Let's just say I don't think she's singing about the flu jab in this song.
As for Allison Krauss... well, I did find this nice little tribute.
John Medd was still stinging a bit from my Adamski rejection last week...
This is a bit like cricket: I can play the game but I'm not very good at it. This'll probably get me another ticking off (it's quite lonely here on the naughty step). Nearly all the Alisons I know/have known have usually being called Ally. It's not an unusual derivation; the spelling can change - Ally, Alley, Alli - but ask any Alison and she'll no doubt concur. So, I'm going for Alley Oop. I wrote about it once, hereabouts.
No ticking off, John. But no place in the Top Ten either as I think that's a bit of a stretch... and I'd end up having to find a place for Gasoline Alley and Sneakin' Sally Through The Alley too. Among others.
I am relieved that the only derivations of Alison allowed are Alyson and Allie, and that Alice is not, so no one can suggest Living Next Door To Alice by Smokie.
Now, just before we get onto this week's scrapings from the hard drive, here's a word from our own Alyson which will allow me to set a rule for future editions.
I'm thinking that the obvious second one to the obvious first one must surely be Alison's Starting To Happen by the Lemonheads, and what a great song.
Couldn't have said it better myself.
1. Elvis Costello - Alison
And who better to introduce our obvious number one than "Alyson" herself...?
One of my favourite songs of all-time - Alison by Elvis Costello. It was played constantly during my last year at school, a year which is up there as being was one of the best of my life to date. Still get teary when I listen to it as a couple of the really good friends from those days are no longer with us, and of course I reminisce about all the romances that didn't last the distance. A bittersweet (for me) but beautiful song. I think I've mentioned this around here before but I use my middle name for blogging purposes for fear of people in the real world finding what I write (about them). As a second layer of security/anonymity I changed the middle 'i' to to a 'y' which I now regret as a bit pretentious, like Fiona becoming Ffyona. Oh well, too late to change now but I think we would all agree with Elvis Costello that the true spelling should be Alison.
There have been a number of decent covers of this song, including...
Followed soon after by Lynchie, who went all weird on us...
Primer mi carucha (Chevy '39) Going to El Monte Legion Stadium Pick up on my weesa (she is so divine) Helps me stealing hub caps Wasted all the time
The
above are the opening lyrics to "Dog Breath, in the Year of the Plague"
by The Mothers Of Invention. The vocals are stupendous, especially
Nelcy Walker's soprano voice backed by Ray Collins & Roy Estrada.
This track led me to purchase "Cruising with Ruben & the Jets" - an
earlier Mothers' album which has some of the best doo-wop songs ever
recorded.
Lynchie's second suggestion was a bit more down-to-earth... and surely a shoe-in for this week's winner as it comes from one of my favourite albums...
A friend of mine became a father last night When we spoke in his voice I could hear the light Of the skies and the rivers the timberwolf in the pines And that great jukebox out on Route 39
Then again, much as I love The Boss, it's only two weeks since he last claimed the top spot in this countdown. Would I really give it to him again?
Our Canadian correspondent, Douglas McLaren, was pretty sure I would...
Darn. Got beaten to the Boss, which I am guessing is the "shoe-in". Oh
well. Though Valentine's Day is (in my opinion) the better song,
Springsteen's "Stand On It" is a rollickin' great-balls-of-fire b-side
belter that also refers to Route 39.
Nope. Not this week, Douglas. What else have you got for me?
A few other offerings as outside chances. For starters, there is last
week's poster boys, UB40, with "Hold Your Position, Mk3". Not the
biggest UB40 fan, but that one sits in the record collection. Lyrics
mention "39 Acker Tree, Frontline"...not sure if that is an address or
what?
Hardly a desirable residence, by the sounds of it.
I feel I should mention Canada's Own Gordon Lightfoot again
this week, as his offering for "40" went down fighting. The song "Drink
Yer Glasses Empty". A typically Lightfoot song, semi-autobiographical I
suppose given that he was in fact born in 1938, but timeless
considering the world today:
Better drink yer glasses empty now It's time to rise and shine There's one less cause in the world To be leaving for It was back in 39 When I was one year old Sitting by the backyard fence And the world had turned so cold...
Another
one that actually sits in the collection since I picked up a vinyl copy
at a charity shop, but I am not actually all that fond of myself
(outside chance perhaps?) is World Party, "The Ballad of The Little
Man". The Latin Teacher in me appreciates the Classical allusion in the
lyrics, though:
He's an animal but he thinks he's God Gets him mixed up with him And we're all at the mercy Of this little man within He was doing fine in 39 Thank God he did not win He kept playing on his fiddle As he watched old Rome cave in...
Well, we crossed the state line about 6: 39 And we saw the sign that said, "Twine Ball exit, fifty miles" Oh, the kids were so happy they started singing "99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall" for the twenty-seventh time that day...
It
reminds me of my summer vacations as a kid. Every last one of them.
And at least by mentioning in now it pre-empts its obvious chances of
being a take-all winner in 12 weeks time when number 27 comes up.
Yeah, that's the winne... oh, no, sorry, it isn't. Nice try though.
Who else do we have? Ah, George...
Of course Spanish Bombs will not be featuring.........
Well, it will be featuring, George. It just won't be winning. Nothing against Mr. Strummer and co. I'm just not cool enough to worship them in quite the same way many other venerable bloggers do.
Spanish songs in Andalucia The shooting sites in the days of '39 Oh, please, leave the vendanna open Fredrico Lorca is dead and gone Bullet holes in the cemetery walls The black cars of the Guardia Civil Spanish bombs on the Costa Rica I'm flying in a DC 10 tonight
Next up was Rigid Digit, with three fine suggestions...
A beautiful ballad where Kelly shows that love songs don’t just have to be about the young ones…
That is pretty special. Thanks, Deano.
And you all for playing, as ever. Before we get onto this week's winner (as immidiately identified by Martin, and seconded by Deano), here's a few more offerings from my hard-drive...
Sippin' Shirley Thompson doesn't care She's 39 and feelin' fine and not much up to goin' anywhere Her husband is a bible salesman and at 39 his hair fell out She said there's not a hair between him and the heaven that he talks about
All good songs, but the songs from our teenage years often leave the biggest impression, don't they? And that's certainly the case with this tune from Queen's A Night At The Opera album, a favourite of mine was I was 15 (even though it was released 12 years earlier). I never had much of an idea what the song was about, I just thought it was a pretty tune and Brian does a good job on vocals. Iffypedia reveals the lyrics go back to Brian's days as an astrophysicist...
The song tells the tale of a group of space explorers who embark on what
is, from their perspective, a year-long voyage. Upon their return,
however, they realise that a hundred years have passed, because of the time dilation effect in Einstein's special theory of relativity, and the loved ones they left behind are now all dead or aged.
Probably best not to bump into Luke Haines at an airport. Not if he's got his terrorist mates with him...
I met a man, he was a trader And he did a cargo at 10,000 Over Jordan It's not for Gods love It's not for cocaine When you've decided - Meet me at the airport
Something about him breaking into an airport on his bike and getting caught on the runway in the lights of an oncoming plane... don't ask me. It's got a nice beat and you could dad-dance to it.
Gordon gets stuck on the runway awaiting take-off. Now there's a metaphor for you!
This old airport's got me down It's no earthly good to me And I'm stuck here on the ground As cold and drunk as I can be You can't jump a jet plane Like you can a freight train So I best be on my way In the early mornin' rain
As I've said many times before: if you're going to write a one-hit wonder... make it a belter!
And it would / should have been Number One... if not for this...
1. John Denver - Leaving On A Jet Plane
Of course, the tragic irony of this song is unbearable... but if you can get past John Denver's untimely demise, this is surely one of the greatest sad pop songs ever written. A hit for Peter, Paul & Mary... though their version sounds really odd if you're more familiar with Denver's (as I am).
3. How far would Tom & Bob run to see this band, mate?
Apologies to Brian, I should have gone with an international clue about Burt Reynolds... I'll try to remember that in future. Charity Chic helped out here too.
