However, there's another Army that will be celebrating today, because it's also...
National Tartan Day
"National Tartan Day was created to celebrate Scottish history and the achievements of people of Scottish descent around the world."
There may well be a song that involves the words "Tartan" and "Army", but I'll leave it for CC to feature that one.
Instead, here's a song from a native son of Scotland... and it's the "Tartan Mix", which I assume means they stuck a minute of bagpipes on at the beginning...
...celebrating "a song that has a knack for slipping into people’s heads and staying there, whether it’s sung in a stadium, taught in a classroom, or hummed while doing the dishes."
If only he was in a cage. Sadly, whatever you accuse him of, it won't stick.
Meanwhile, if you're sick of Easter Eggs by now, maybe try a little pasta...
National Carbonara Day
No idea who came up with that genius idea.
"The ideal thing that almost anyone can do on National Carbonara Day is to head out to a favourite Italian restaurant and order up a plate of carbonara pasta."
But surely there aren't any songs about Carbonara?
Over the Half Term holiday, I had a visit from our local Reform Councillor. The first one to be elected in our area, and he was obviously chuffed with himself and his shiny blue rosette. I was loading my car up in preparation for a trip to the tip when I saw him knocking on the neighbours’ doors, and though I didn’t immediately know what party he represented, I had my suspicions.
When he approached and identified himself, I gave him both barrels.
“Turn around, go away and never come near my house again.”
“Very well, sir,” he replied, obviously accustomed to abuse, “that’s your right in a democratic society. But do you mind if I ask why you’re saying that?”
“Because I’ve seen what’s happening in America and I don’t want the same thing to happen over here.”
“Well, America’s very different to here.”
“It won’t be if you lot get in.”
This went on a bit more, and I ended up calling him and his brethren a “bunch of racists”, which he denied, quietly, as he moved on to the next house.
Afterwards, I regretted my outburst. I should have just turned away immediately and not let myself be drawn into any kind of discussion. Why didn’t I?
Because he was outside my home. And as such, he was directly invading my Environment.
You may remember in the last couple of editions of this very sporadic series, I mentioned Dr. R. Douglas Fields’ list of nine triggers for anger, summed up in the acronym LIFEMORTS. I’ve previously looked at the first three letters – L for Life or Limb, I for Insult, and F for Family. The next is E – the anger we feel when something invades our environment, our home, our safe place – even our personal space. In a recent interview, Dr. Fields explained…
“… animals who are territorial will protect their territory with violence. And we can see that in many animals in nature. But humans are fiercely territorial. Trespassers will be shot.”
“One of the main functions of territorial behaviour for humans is the preservation of privacy. Having a place where we can control who has access to us and when is essential for normal day-to-day functioning, and a lack of such control can be quite dispiriting and stressful.”
It goes on to suggest that this is one of the reasons homelessness has such profound psychological effects on people. We are hard-wired to need our own safe cave to retreat to when the world gets too much. And when the sabretooth tiger steps into our cave looking for a meal… how can we ever feel safe there again?
When I was in the Sixth Form and we’d just started passing our driving tests, we would occasionally get to borrow a parental car and give friends a lift home from school. I have a vivid memory of the time we dropped my friend Rachel off at her house only for her to come running back out in tears moments later. Her home had been broken into while everyone was at work / school, and the burglars had ransacked the place. The police even found a shotgun propped up against a wall in the living room, suggesting that the thieves might have had to leave in a hurry – perhaps when they heard us pull up outside.
Rachel and her family were obviously deeply affected by this, but they were tough Yorkshire folk, and I guess they got over it. Her parents stayed in that house for a good many years afterwards, but I know a lot of people never get over a burglary or home invasion, and their only option is to move.
Scientists suggest we don’t have to be in a place for a long time for us to start feeling territorial. One study, cited in Psychology Today, reported that…
“…when a person seated at a table in a university snack bar for five minutes or less was approached by a stranger who asked them to move, they invariably complied and often offered an apology as well. However, if the person had been seated there for a much longer period of time, they usually refused to move.”
Have you ever been sat on a park bench, just enjoying the sunshine and the birdsong, the breeze on your face… and someone else has plonked themselves down on the same bench? On your bench? How does that make you feel? Maybe you’re a sociable soul and you welcome the company. Or maybe it depends how long you’ve been sitting there.
Territorial rage can even exist on the interweb. I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets a bit miffed when I receive spam comments on my blog – but it’s worse still when Mr. Angry From Purley has a rant about something I’ve written. And check out all those people getting into heated arguments on social media – your Facebook account is another safe space. When some dickhead invades that with a comment they’d never make in real life… watch out!
Territorial anger is a natural human reaction then… so next time a Reform candidate comes knocking on your door, don’t beat yourself up about slamming it in his gammony face.
Here's a song about someone who gets very angry when someone invades his space... be warned that it features a fair bit of bad language. Even worse than what I said to the Neo-Nazi.
I couldn't let this series close without mentioning "the most amazing motion picture of our time", starring Michael Landon, presumably before he found God in Highway To Heaven...
Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was banned during the video nasties scare of the 80s, so it became something of a holy grail to teenage horror fans like myself, desperate to see it. When it was finally re-released in 1998, I rushed out to see it. The film does contain one of the most disturbing scenes I've ever seen... yet it's nothing to do with the infamous chainsaw, or even Leatherface himself. Instead, the bit that got me was the dinner party scene when they fetch Grandpa down from the attic...
The Tyla Gang formed in 1975 following the dissolution of Sean Tyla's previous band, Ducks Deluxe. I suspect there's more than a whiff of bandwagonary going on here...
The other classic horror film banned throughout my adolescent video shop days was Mark Kermode's favourite: The Exorcist. Hard to believe it's 25 years since the censors finally allowed me to watch that...
The less said about the 2005 remake of House of Wax, starring Paris Hilton, the better. The 1953 original though, with Vincent Price, was one of the first mainstream Hollywood movies to be filmed in 3D. I generally hate 3D movies, but I reckon it'd be worth seeing this one again with the glasses on.
I found a whole bunch of songs named after this flick. Here's a smattering of wax on wax...
Nothing beats a good haunted house story for me though. And that one to beat in that genre is the 1963 version of Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, known simply as The Haunting.
Whatever you do, do NOT watch the 1999 version with Liam Neeson and Catherine Zeta Jones. It's one of the worst films I've ever seen.
Here are some post-Shane Pogues... so no way as scary as they used to be.
Sadly, I couldn't find any songs named after the best haunted house movies of the 21st Century, the Paranormal Activity flicks, but I'm closing today with the film that got me hooked on horror movies back when I was a kid. I was obsessed with the Amityville Horror, reading all the books, watching all the films, and even looking favourably upon Lovebug Starski...
Martin and Khayem already paid their respects to the late Donald Sutherland, and there's little I can add to their fine tributes... except a few songs that mention him by name. Starting with this fine tune from a band with a terrible name. Don't let that put you off.
Martin paid particular attention to one of Donald's finest roles - the 1978 remake of Invasion Of The Body Snatcher, as pictured at the top of the page. And here it is in a song...
They're Body-Snatchers. Life is imitating art now And Donald Sutherland, I guess I'm playing his part, now That everyone is out to get me
Over at Dubhead, Kayhem mentioned Donald's guest appearance in a Kate Bush video, in which he plays the part of German psychiatrist and philosopher Wilhelm Reich. Here's a little bit more about that dude...
Red fascists kicked him out of Oslo Donald Sutherland Portrayed him in a Kate Bush video Bitter love, preaching human dignity Wrote a book about Nazi sexuality
Apparently Donald initially refused to lower himself to taking part in a silly pop video... until Kate Bush turned up at door in person. And then he changed his mind. Can't imagine why...
I'm currently enthralled by the book Listen, by Michel Faber, one of my favourite fiction writers who's now branched out into non-fiction with a fascinsating analysis of how and why we listen to music, and all the benefits we gain from doing so. Faber describes Listen as the book he's wanted to write his whole life... and guess what? It's also the book I've been wanting to read for a similar length of time.
Even though Michel and I don't exactly share the same taste in music (he was brought up on pop, but more recently his tastes tend towards the avant garde), we share the same passion for music as a form, and so much of what he has to say resonates with me.
"Music is a battleground of identity and allegiance," the writer tells us (far more eruditely than I've ever managed to express the same notion), quoting Peter Gabriel who once said that, music is "part of the artillery with which you announce yourself to the world". "Liking the right music," Faber adds, "wins you recognition and approval from your peer group... liking the wrong music provokes alienation and exclusion".
Here is another selection from The List, that neverending pressure cooker of tunes constantly on simmer in my mind. How much of it will win me recognition and approval... and how much will have you throwing cabbages?
Let's start with some Hirth Martinez, a singer-songwriter from the 70s whose debut album was produced by Robbie Robertson (on Bob Dylan's recommendation). I particularly like the track Altogether Alone, which reminds me of Gilbert O'Sullivan and Dean Friedman (put those cabbages DOWN), so Hirth has gone on the list to investigate further...
I've become obsessed with the Kate Bush song Army Dreamers lately. It was the third single from Kate's third album, Never For Ever, in 1980... though it was rather overshadowed by its predecessor, Babooshka. Now I loved Babooshka, and not just for the video... which is the maddest thing Kate ever did... but I never paid much attention to anything else from that album.
I'm not sure why I started listening to Army Dreamers after all this time, but this simple tale of a young soldier coming home in a box has really struck a chord in recent weeks, especially the call & response chorus. Now I think I might even like it more than Babooshka. (Shh. Don't tell anyone.)
(What could he do? Should have been a rock star) But he didn't have the money for a guitar (What could he do? Should have been a politician) But he never had a proper education (What could he do? Should have been a father) But he never even made it to his twenties What a waste, army dreamers Oh, what a waste of army dreamers
Also, the video. Sigh.
Last week's Snapshots featured Swedish Brit Pop band Grass-Show. (How can you be a Swedish Brit Pop band? Ask the 90s.) I was very fond of their 1997 album Something Smells Good In Stinkville back in the day, and I've been listening to it again recently. I'd completely forgotten their rocky cover of this fiendishly catchy 1993 Number One from their countrymen, Ace of Bass. I always hated this song. Until...
Finally today, here's a new tune from a Cinicinatti indie band called HARBOUR. They insist on the capitals. (Don't start me.) This is from their album To Chase My Dreams, Or To Just Lie Down? Extra marks. It's the sort of song I'd love to put on one of Sam's in-car mix CDs, except for the fact they frequently sing "Just fucking run me over", which I'm not sure he's ready for yet. Still: I am. Must check out the album...
I met up with my former boss a week or so back. There was a work-related reason to do so, but when I told Ben I was meeting her, he screamed at me through the medium of Whatsapp. Why would I want to see someone who caused me so much grief? Well, for one thing, she's moved on now and isn't working at The Bad Place, and I recognise that the pressure she put me under back then wasn't coming from her, she was but the conduit through which shit rolled downhill from upper management. We were able to talk about that and put it behind us, I think, and that was a positive thing.
But the other reason I was willing to see her is that old maxim about never burning your bridges, particularly when it comes to employment. God willing, I'll never have to go back to work in a college again, but if I ever needed to...
All of which got me thinking about songs involving burning your bridges... or not burning them, as the case may be. Let's kick off with Canadian singer Jack Scott, who Dave Marsh of Rolling Stone once called, "undeniably the greatest Canadian rock and roll singer of all time."
The Cravats came from Redditch in 1977, with lead singers Robin Dallaway and The Shend. Now, I'm trying not to be prejudiced against The Shend because his choice of name is frustratingly reminiscent of that muppet from The Irish Band. Not as Edgy though, which is good. You may be interested to learn that the Cravats are still going strong, minus Dallaway, but with the addition of Rampton Garstang on drums, Joe 91 on bass and Viscount Biscuits on guitar. I think they might be the Viz house band.
Now it way well be that you're not actually burning your bridges to cut ties with people you no longer want to associate with. You might just be burning them to keep warm. In which case, can I suggest a nice Cardigan?
Last week, to prove how uncool I am, I included a song by unfairly-reviled New Jersey rockers Bon Jovi. It proved so popular (especially with Ernie, George and CC) that I thought I'd include another one today.
Collective Soul made a brief appearance on the UK charts (at #80 in 1994) with their debut single Shine, and were never seen again. Meanwhile, in the States, they sold enough records to fill their swimming pools with caviar. This was from the same album as Shine...
Taken from the album "Clint Eastwood Sings His Classics" (!) and the soundtrack of the movie Kelly's Heroes... although in the movie, it was performed by these guys...
Can you guess the track that sprang immediately to mind when I first considered this particular idiom?
Me and my mate Rich loved this song when we were 16. I think Rich loved it in an ironic way, because he had a much cooler taste in music than me. I would say that I loved it in an ironic way too, but given what you know about my shameless taste in music then and now, nobody would believe me. There's something about the sea shanty-esque guitar refrain which is both extremely annoying and a hopeless earworm. Even now, when I listen to it, I think, "you shouldn't like this... it's wrong". But then I can't help smiling at the Quo rock their guitars back and forth in time with the music...
Last weekend, Louise and I had a bit of an argument. It wasn't a particularly important one, just one of the hundreds of squabbles most human beings living under the same roof as other human beings will subject themselves to over the course of the year. I can't even remember what it was about now, but at the time I was livid.
I'm kinda putting off tackling the subject of anger in this series, because it's a huge kettle of anchovies. I'm avoiding it because it looks like it'll be hard work... and those of you who read last week's post will realise that's rather counter-productive of me. Hey, I'm not claiming to be following my own advice all the time - take your "physician, heal thyself" comments and stick them where the sun don't shine.
Anyway, after the argument, I took myself off to stew in the living room. I hate any kind of disagreement, so will take the first opportunity to run away and do whatever I can to avoid it starting up again. This will usually involve not discussing the subject of the argument or anything else for as long as possible, since any form of communication might re-trigger the aggro. Some people might call this sulking. I prefer to term it Crisis Management.
After about a minute though, Louise came to find me. "Here we go again," I thought, at which point Louise said...
"Are you finding those new tuna tins hard to drain? I find they leave a ring and you have to press down and it doesn't get all the water out so you end up with really mushy tuna and..."
I'll spare you the rest, but it was as though our earlier disagreement hadn't even happened and instantly we were back to discussing the trivial annoyances of day to day living. Well, Louise was, anyway. Me... I find it much harder to reset my emotions like that.
In her immensely readable book Unf*ck Your Brain, the delightfully foul-mouthed Dr. Faith G, Harper tells us...
"Our emotions influence our thoughts and behaviours. They are meant to be a physiological signal to the rest of the brain. Once they have done their jobs, they are then meant to dissipate.
Do you know how long an emotion is actually meant to last?
90 seconds.
Seriously, just one and a half minutes for an emotion to run its course.
But you are calling "bullshit" right now, I know. Because if that were really the case, why do our emotions last hours, days, or years? 90 seconds? Not so much.
Emotions last longer than 90 seconds because we continue to fuel them with our thoughts. We do this by telling ourselves the same stories about the triggering situation over and over. This is when they stop being emotions and start becoming moods."
So how do we stop our 90 second emotions becoming full-on hissy fits, extended bouts of pout, or lock-yourself-in-the-toilet meltdowns?
The answer, according to the experts, presumably people who never experience more than 90 seconds of negative emotions at any one time, is to take control of our own feelings and become emotionally self-aware.
This all seems like a shed-load of work to me, but here's a few tips from Psychology Today about how to stop 90 seconds of upset ruining your entire day...
“Look at the second hand on a watch. As soon as you look at it, you’re now observing yourself having this physiological response instead of engaging with it. It will take less than 90 seconds, and you will feel better. Of course, you can always go back to thinking those thoughts that re-stimulate the loop. There’s probably a thought somewhere in your brain of somebody who did you wrong 20 years ago. Every time you think of that person it still starts that circuit. When things are getting hot and you’re getting hot-headed, look at your watch. It takes 90 seconds to dissipate that anger response.”
We keep coming back to this on Self-Help For Cynics. Make yourself aware of what your brain is doing as a first step to taking back control. But how easy is that to do in the heat of the moment when your brain is fired up with the matter at hand? I reckon it'll take practice.
Sweary Dr. Faith takes this idea one step further. She suggests facing your emotions head on. Sitting down and wallowing in them. relishing them, living them to their full potential.
Not avoiding them.
Not just putting up with them.
Actually grasping the nettle and saying to yourself, "Hey, I'm angry / frightened / sad / etc. right now. This is what it feels like. It might feel pretty awful, but I know it won't last, so let's just give it a bit of time, give it its space."
Again, hardly the easiest course of action - particularly for those of us who are Professional Conflict-Avoiders. But, Dr. Faith assures us...
"If you attend to what you're feeling, you get over it way more quickly than if you avoid it. I've noticed I'm bored with myself about three minutes into committing to sitting with my feeling for five. I'm ready to go make a cup of coffee, read a book, find the cookies I hid from myself, or do anything other than perserverate."
All this makes me think that the brain is like a small child that wants our attention when we're otherwise occupied. You can try to ignore the child's continued efforts to disrupt your day... or you can try to muddle along, balancing the thing you're doing with giving the child a bit of attention. Or you can drop everything and give the child your full attention - blatantly. "OK, I'm watching you... what are you doing? Can I watch you do that too? Show me more! Let me watch YOU!"
I've actually done this with Sam on occasion, and often he'll get bored with this sudden bout of hyper-attention and actually want to be left alone for a bit. The people in the know tells us that our brain will do exactly the same thing... if we give it the attention it craves.
No, I've never heard of Gazebo either, but apparently this was a 1983 Number One in 7 European countries. In the UK, we were too busy listening to Karma Chameleon.
If you've Rushdie'd here this morning for the answers to yesterdays quiz, I hope it wasn't because you felt like a Salman swimming upstream, trying to work out the connection.
Here are ten songs named after famous novels, straight from your favourite English teacher. You might even call them "iconic", except you'd probably upset C.
Prepare yourself for some Satantic Verses... and Heavenly choruses, of course.
10. Shot in Sarajevo.
Archduke Franz Ferdinand was shot in Sarajevo, sparking World War I.
