This is Chubby Checker. In 2013, he was forced to sue a leading IT company for promoting an app that used his name as a euphemism for measuring the size of one's manhood. The app was withdrawn.
Here are 15 songs that could well be euphemisms for nookie.
15. Danced for Patrick Hernandez.
Before she became famous, she was a backing singer and dancer for the French disco star.
If you've never seen the video before, I urge you to give it a click. These days, we're so used to seeing pop stars singing about sex... but these guys look so wholesome, surely they were waiting till they were married?
13. Dustbin Wagon Americano.
Dustin Wagons are made by Dennis. An Americano is a coffee.
In his excellent book Listen, Michel Faber asks many important questions about why we like the music we like. Here are just three...
At what age do kids start getting doctrinaire about music, and anxious about the social esteem and reproof that society attaches to various stylistic allegiances?
At what age do kids start to be dishonest about what they like and envious of others' taste?
I've written many times about how I swam against the tide when I was younger, taking an active dislike to songs many of my peers cherished. I even ran an unfinished series called Songs I Hated When I Was A Kid, which included records by The Smiths, Madness and The Pet Shop Boys, all artists I've since come to cherish.
For a child to love the Pussycat Dolls when all of her pals don't love them anymore requires almost superhuman self-confidence - especially since self-confidence tends to arise from doing stuff which inspires the approval of others. By contrast, the social rewards for pledging allegiance to the latest thing that everyone likes are instant and plentiful.
I'm not writing all this to champion my younger self as a free-thinking rebels with superhuman self-confidence... since clearly I was none of those things. I was probably just stubborn, contrary, and responding to neural pathways that had been formed by an early diet of Radio 2 and Reader's Digest box sets. My tastes changed as I got older... but I also became more aware of how other people judged them, to the point of apologising profusely for liking uncool things, something I've never quite got over.
Below you'll find an excerpt from one of those APAs I found in my mum's attic. This was written in the early 90s, a list of my 100 favourite songs sometime in my early 20s. Many of them won't surprise longtime readers of this blog, especially those of you who shake their head in despair at some of my trad-rock and Dad-rock faves...
That said, I'd stand by much of the Top Ten to this day. If you put a gun to my head and forced me to list my ten favourite songs, I'd be remiss if I didn't include The Power of Love, This Old Heart Of Mine, Thunder Road and There Is A Light. The other six might not make my Top Ten, but they'd still be hanging around in the Top 50. In the rest of the list you'll notice strong showings from the usual suspects: Bruce, Costello, Morrissey & The Smiths, Billy Joel, Jim & Meat... although the song choices occasionally surprise me (Souls of the Departed? Sleeping With The Television On?) here and elsewhere (of all the Stones songs I might have picked, I'm mystified by my choice of Fool To Cry). God knows how Eric Clapton got in there though.
Beyond that, there are some interesting choices, many of which have more to do with records I was listening to / discovering at the time rather than seriously considering a long term bet. I'd obviously recently bought Suzanne Vega's 99.9°F album and Bob Seger's The Fire Inside. A lot of the choices feel like Greatest Hits fodder (Bo' Rap, Hotel California and American Pie will no doubt cause much consternation among the cognoscenti), although a couple of the deep cuts show a shift away from obvious radio fare (the solitary REM choice is about the only moment where I can claim any degree of cool).
I'm quite disturbed by the lack of female artists - apart from Suzanne, who was clearly a current fave, all I can see is Kirsty (singing a Billy Bragg song), Patti Smith (Springsteen) and Bonnie Tyler (Steinman). I can put that down to the male dominance of rock music back in the day, but still I'm disappointed not to see any Blondie or Kate Bush or even one of my crushes like Belinda or Wendy... hell, I'd even settle for Carol Decker to balance out the testosterone.
There are other huge gaps on show - all the indie and Britpop bands came later (and the 80s stuff I discovered through the gateway drug of The Smiths), but there's hardly any Motown or soul (especially The Supremes, one of my first loves). My country roots are showing in a couple of places, but not as much as I might have expected. This is clearly prior to me coming to terms with the greatest song ever written...
Even back then though, I was aware of the need to apologise for my taste in music to anyone cooler who might have been reading. Some things never change...
Yes, that is Joan Jett. Yes, that is Mike Tyson. Best of friends, apparently. To the point that Mike used to insist that Joan called him up before every boxing match to ensure success. She was his good luck charm. The first time that didn't happen - in his bout against Buster Douglas on February 11, 1990 - he lost.
Seems only appropriate that we kick off this week with a little Joan...
1. The Runaways - Neon Angels On The Road To Ruin
One of those song titles that reeks of sleazy rock & roll excess, just like the Runaways themselves. It prepares you for a debauched grindhouse B movie of a record, and the lyrics deliver that in spades. Jim Steinman would be proud.
2. Shirley Ellis - Ever See A Diver Kiss His Wife While The Bubbles Bounce About Above The Water?
A top notch suggestion from Ernie, although one that does beg the unfortunate question: which one of them farted? And I say that as someone who loathes fart jokes.
Shirley Ellis recorded 3 albums then retired from the music business in 1968. I'm hoping she made enough money from The Clapping Song to keep her in the manner she deserved.
3. Norma Tanega - Walkin' My Cat Named Dog
When I feature an artist who's never appeared on the blog before, I like to to dig into their biography and find an interesting fact or two to enliven my leaden prose. Where do you start with Norma Tanega? She worked in a mental hospital and sang for the patients. She had a 5 year relationship with Dusty Springfield. After she stopped performing as a solo artist, she played percussions in bands called Baboonz, hybridVigor, and Ceramic Ensemble. Her song You're Dead (a comment on the competitive nature of the music industry) is used as the theme tune to What We Do In The Shadows.
Even today's song has a wonderful story behind it. Tanega's New York apartment building wouldn't allow dogs, so instead she got a cat, called it Dog, and took it for walks on a lead. In 1966, Walkin' My Cat Named Dog reached the exact same position in both the US and UK charts: #22. It remains her most popular song, though title-wise, I was also tempted to go with A Street That Rhymes At 6am.
4. The Isley Brothers - Cold Bologna
Hear me out on this one. On the surface, Cold Bologna isn't as eye-catching as most of the other titles in this series, but it is an excellent example of a title that doesn't set you up for something you're not going to get. If you call a song Cold Bologna, then I expect that song to be about a rather unappetising sandwich filling. And that's just what the Isleys deliver here... whilst also giving us a tragic metaphor for poverty and the class system filtered through the eyes of a child.
Talkin' bout that Cold bolonga and mayonnaise and bread If it wasn't for cold bologna by now Y'all know I would've been dead
It also helps that I'm a big fan of words like "bologna" which don't sound anything like they're spelled. And the fact that "baloney" has a second connotation too... perfect.
5. Dougie Poole - Nothing On This Earth Can Make Me Smile
As usual, we close with a contemporary smash... although it sounds like it could be from an early 70s singer-songwriter. Jim Croce or even John Denver spring to mind. Dougie Poole is an alt-country singer from Brooklyn, once called "the patron saint of millennial malaise", which is a sobriquet to save for your tombstone if ever there was one.
Which is your favourite title and which is your favourite tune? Do they match?
Ben and I have taken to alerting each other about famous deaths. Partly it's to help me keep up to date on this feature; I'm not sure what Ben gets out of it. Maybe he's just a ghoul. It's got to the stage where we just message the name of the latest departee; further conversation may or may not ensue.
This was our conversation last Friday...
Ben: Rudolph Isley.
Rol: Damned shame. This Old Heart Of Mine is one of my all time Top Ten.
Ben: Top 5 here.
Rol: Beyond the number 1, I don't really put them in order. It is however one of the few songs that makes the hairs on the back of my next stand up whenever I hear the drum intro.
Ben: It's one of the best pop songs that's ever been written and performed.
Rol: Yes.
The Isley Brothers had many more great songs, but This Old Heart Of Mine (Is Weak For You) exists on another level. Take 2 minutes 45 seconds out of your day to appreciation sheer perfection...
I couldn't find any songs that mentioned Rudolph by name, but that didn't bother me. It was enough just to play that one again. And again.
Piper Laurie made her film debut in 1950 and her final screen appearance in 2018. She appeared in The Hustler with Paul Newman and played Sissy Spacek's domineering mother in Carrie, but she'll be best remembered at Top Ten Towers for her role as the conniving businesswoman Catherine Martell. Laurie was also a prominent civil rights activist, taking a 15 year break from acting during the 60s and 70s to protest against the Vietnam war.
I found a couple of songs in the jukebox dedicated to Piper. Firstly this...
And then this lost gem from The Dangtrippers, which manages to squeeze a bit of biographical detail into a two and a half minute jangly power pop song, including a mention of her real name, Rosetta Jacobs...
The Celebrity Jukebox was never intended to solely focus on actors. The dictionary says of celebrities, "a famous person, especially in entertainment or sport", and while we're unlikely to focus on many sports stars, "entertainment" covers a pretty wide spectrum.
The day after we lost Olivia, we lost Lamont Dozier. It's been one of those weeks.
This blog has been known to dip its toes in the deep pool of hyperbole from time to time, but it's no exaggeration to say that Lamont Dozier (along with brothers Brian and Eddie Holland Jr.) was responsible for some of the greatest pop songs ever recorded. Evidence?
And it goes much further than that, with Dozier contributing to some huge hits from the 70s and 80s too. I'm sure you've read about them over the last day or so. He also had a moderately successful recording career of his own on the side.
But let's be honest... how many classic songs are written about songwriters? Does Lamont Dozier really deserve a place on the Celebrity Jukebox unless his name has popped up in someone else's tune?
I'm sure you can see where I'm heading with this...
Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong
Are here to make everything right that's wrong
Holland and Holland and Lamont Dozier too
Are here to make it all okay with you
Not only did Lamont Dozier write some of the greatest pop songs ever recorded... he also inspired one of them.
Another Thursday, another Guest Post. And we welcome back George, who's getting all mushy on us...
George's Top Ten Heart Songs
Rol made the huge mistake of saying I would be welcome to do
another piece for his blog.
And I have chosen My Top Ten Heart songs so I could shoehorn
in one of My Favourite Songs Of All Time, brought to me by Andy Kershaw many
many years ago. I was thinking originally of a Top Ten Meal songs but that led
to me that huge pile of old pish Breakfast In America, which would never ever
be included in such a list but I had to banish that song from my mind. And
instead we have this top ten. Spoiler alert: No Supertramp. Actually, that’s hardly
a spoiler, but hopefully you get the point.
That’s a picture of a cow’s heart. Something I have cooked up for the dogs and cats, who could not scoff it quickly enough. When I told Talho Jorge that I was vegetarian it caused great amusement. We used to get a great slab of heart-and-lung (different butcher) which I just could not deal with. Enough of this offal talk. On with the music:
A Top Ten Heart Songs has to have this in it. Peerless. Well, almost.
(George has now redeemed himself for dissing Ms. Tyler & Mr. Steinman. That is one of my all time favourite songs, as featured here many times before. - Rol.)
I was something of a Hendrix obsessive in my youth, amassing 26 albums by the age of 19. This is from the Royal Albert concert of 1969, on the same day as Denis Law’s 29th birthday:
It’s amazing how clean that guitar sounds, and how all you need for a fantastic blues song are three people. No embellishments, just Hendrix playing the blues, bass and drums.
There might be one or two people reading who don’t actually
own Feast Of Wire. You really should catch yourselves on and rectify that right
now. It is frequently considered The Best Album Ever Made In The Entirety of Recorded
Music. That title has also been bestowed upon ABC, Rod Stewart, and The
Turbines. At the momentum it belongs again to Calexico. And this song replaced
a Clyde McPhatter and The Drifters song, THAT is how good it is:, it’s the
slow, sweeping orchestration, the almost tortured painful vocal, it’s a
glorious and dark, dark song...
It’s after this track that the realisation dawns that the entire album is something special.
Now for some, this song might have been rather spoiled by the bloody ghastly ITV programme of a few years ago, but listen to it now, it’s a fantastic, simple love song, beautifully played and sung, 2 minutes and 7 seconds of pure pop perfection. Come on, who amongst you will not sing the “piddle dee pat” bits. And the rest of it???
This song is from the completely over the top and self-indulgent double album Wheels of Fire album (one track involves an especially tedious Ginger Baker drum solo), but this a great psychedelic/rock song, showing what a great vocalist Jack Bruce was, really powerful, there’s no unending guitar noodling from Clapton, just a brief interlude, and those huge thumping drums of Ginger Baker.
I love how that song seems to begin with Jack Bruce launching into the vocal and Clapton and Baker are almost caught unawares.
I was thinking about not including this, because the singer appeared in my previous outing here. I played it again and thought that if this is to be a Top Ten and not just Ten Songs with Heart In The Title, then it would be ridiculous to exclude it.
(Agreed. - Rol.)
It’s a tremendous song, but remarkably not his best! Another song that can move me to tears. If you don’t like this, you’ve got no heart...
And here’s the shoehorn - I jettisoned the Top Ten Meals Songs idea for the rather easier Heart Songs just so I could include this song. Well, it has been one of my (and I suspect Charity Chic’s) Favourite Songs Of All Time since first heard 30 or so years ago. Like the Dwight song above (OK, I know that’s a cover) I can sing along, or “sing” along, to this word-perfectly. Almost word-perfectly. It’s meant to be sad but it always makes me smile, the cheery music just does not go with the sentiment of the song. Now THIS is a peerless song...
Two minutes and 50 seconds of country music genius. You’ll not hear a better song today.
“I opened up my sack, and lord there it was, my baby’s goodbye note, heartaches for lunch”
“Teardrops change the flavour of things I loved once”
Where else but in country music do you get such great lines??
So, no Jayhawks (Two Hearts) which was briefly a contender. No Joy Division (very very briefly a contender, but not as strong as The Jayhawks). No Bruce Springsteen, obviously.
There might, just possibly, be something that I missed, but looking at the list the only tracks that could possibly be replaced are the Neil Young and Cream songs, the others are nailed on surefire bets for being in any Top Ten Heart Songs.
And thanks to Rol for allowing me again to pollute his pages.
No, thank you, George. For anyone who's interested, I did a Top Ten Breakfast Menu Songs back in 2013... and promised I would include Supertramp in a future Top Ten that never materialised. One day, Supertramp fans, one day. Now I never even thought of tackling a Top Ten Heart Songs because there are so many available options. George did nail a couple of my favourites above... but if he missed out any of yours, feel free to contribute a list of your own for a future instalment of Guest Post Thursday.
I remember buying this single when I was 15 from a basement record store in town. I went out searching for it after hearing it on my favourite TV show. (It would later be featured on the soundtrack album, which I also bought.) Moonlighting, for those of you too young or deprived to recall, was a 4th-wall breaking detective romcom starring Bruce Willis as David Addison and Cybill Shepherd as Maddie Hayes.
Around this time, I was also somewhat obsessed with a Maddie of my own. She would often sit and chat with me on the school bus home. Although she seemed to use the longer version of her name with most other people, she never told me to stop when I called her Maddie. She was musical, like me, playing piano and violin. I played piano and tenor horn, though I was better at the brass than the keys. She was much better at the piano. Occasionally we'd meet in the music block and end up in a practice room where she'd show off on the piano and I would lust uncontrollably. In my head, I was David Addison and she was my Maddie Hayes. I'm not sure what the hell was going on in her head.
I clearly remember her telling me about how her legs were all downy because she hadn't shaved them that week. It was the most erotic thing anyone had ever said to me.
Around that time, I saw my own life as a soap opera. I think this came from the 4th-wall breaking in Moonlighting, and I often thought of day-to-day events as episodes with in-built cliffhangers. The end of term was like the end of a series. I clearly remember one end of term cliffhanger wherein Maddie and I got off the bus together and I was convinced I'd hinted at my feelings enough that she must have got the message... and surely on returning to school we would become an item. The following term was the greatest anti-climax ever.
Wracked with teenage insecurity, I couldn't ever ask a girl out directly, so the "does she / doesn't she?" nature of our friendship continued for the next few months until my mate Simon finally got sick of me whinging on about her and took it upon himself to ask her out for me. Except Maddie appeared to get the wrong end of the stick and thought he was actually asking for himself. Turns out she was interested in that... fair play to him: he wasn't. (I don't think I'd ever have forgiven him.) When he put her right... well, the alternative wasn't that appealing after all. I'll never quite understand why she spent as much time hanging round with me if that was the case, but such is teenage life.
Heartbreaking depression ensued and our friendship faded after that, but I carried the torch (among others) well into the 6th Form. This song always reminds me of her...
Maybe it's my mistake to show this love I feel inside
'Cause each day that passes by,
You got me never knowing if I'm coming or going
All that aside: when it comes to pop perfection, This Old Heart Of Mine (Is Weak For You) is right up there with Wichita Lineman.
Division One is a League (even I know that, and I know nothing about football).
People are human (well, some of them).
This is the Redknapp (formerly Nurding) I was referring to...
(You've no idea how long it took me to find a picture of her where she wasn't just in her underwear. About as long as it took me to find a picture of The Human League where Phil Oakey wasn't instantly recognisable.)
3. The desperate enemy of ladies hits ice. Not as short as you think!
Desperate Dan
Enemy = Foe
Lady = Girl (or Gel)
Ice = Berg
Not as short as you think?
Lynchie really didn't want to admit to knowing this one,,, but he couldn't resist nudging C towards the answer.
Don't blame me if listening to this song sends you into a diabetic coma. However, it reminds me of an extremely foolish, if not entirely regretted, dalliance when I was young and very, very stupid...
How bizarre has this weather been lately? It's July in the UK and the temperature is heading into the thirties. There's no rain. And everyone's complaining about the heat! Not a traditional British summer at all... who can remember the last time we had a sunny Glastonbury AND a red hot Wimbledon. It's like the mythical long hot summers of our youths...
Anyway, to celebrate here are ten songs about hot summers. Enjoy them while they last.
For many, many years, I thought John Sebastian was singing "'Til I'm weezin' like a bus stop" which I considered a beautiful line, even though the imagery was rather skewed. Imagine my disappointment to discover it's actually "'Til I'm weezin' at the bus stop". Never mind, it spoils this perfect pop record not one jot.
Please be upstanding for the utter insanity that is the full, minute-long spoken word intro performed by Jim Steinman and Ellen Foley... after that, you wonder how Meat's song can ever live up to it. Amazingly, it does. If I could marry this record, I would.
I bet you say that to all the boys...
1. Don Henley - The Boys of Summer
Nothing says the summers of my teenage years like this song. Not that my own teenage years resembled those described by Don Henley one bit... but I could dream.
I can see you
Your brown skin shining in the sun
You got that top pulled down and that radio on baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
after the boys of summer have gone
I was always quite fond of The Ataris' cover version too.
Hot damn, there are just too many great hot summer songs... ten barely scratches the surface. If the weather sticks, I'll come back with Volume 2 soon... your suggestions welcome, as always (though no guarantees I'll include them).
