Monday Morning Blues #4: Post Father's Day Blues

I had a lovely Father's Day - the selection of gifts above from Sam (via Louise) was well received. I saw my own dad on Saturday, but he's hard to have a lengthy conversation with these days. Struggling with his health, finding it particularly hard to walk great distances, he clearly misses his former independence, and as a result has closed in on himself. I like to see him, but it also makes me sad because I can tell he's unhappy, yet it's beyond anything I can do to help him. I guess he appreciated the John Grisham and the chocolate truffle fudge (he started reading and tucking into it almost immediately on receipt), but I wish I could do more.

Otis Gibbs has the Back In My Day Blues. I reckon my dad knows how they feel... then again, so do I.

 

Monday Morning Blues #3: Coo Coo Coo Blues

I don't know why I have the blues. Maybe it's just my disposition.

The Good Rats came from Long Island New York in 1964. They've been around in one form or another ever since, although none of the original members are still playing. They've featured here before with the amazing Advertisement In The Voice (in which they start to get the blues around 3 o'clock, coincidentally). Today, they have a warning about chatting up the wrong girl in a bar, especially if your name is Coo Coo Coo...

I hope your week goes well.

Monday Morning Blues #2: The Original Talkin' Blues

I'm a big fan of Talkin' Blues songs, as popularised by the likes of  Bob Dylan, Woody Guthrie and Phil Ochs, and in more recent times by artists such as Todd Snider and Dan Bern. They say it's the original rap music, and who am I to argue with they?

But what was the first ever Talkin' Blues record? Well, it's this one, by Chris Bouchillon, recorded in 1926. Apparently he had a terrible singing voice, but a great sense of humour...

Blues to cheer up your Monday morning. That's what we need!

Monday Morning Blues #1: Mother Blues

The weird thing is, I don't really feel the Monday Morning Blues anymore. I enjoy the new job so much, I actually look forward to going back to work. That's not to say I wouldn't rather have the day off though...

Anyway, it occurred to me that the word Blues appears in a heck of a lot of song titles in my music collection, and only a small percentage of them are straight-forward blues records of the "Woke up this morning..." variety. It could, of course, be argued that all pop music has its roots in the blues, so they're all blues songs in their own way. Whatever. A new series beckons...

And we start with yet another Grumpy Old Man of the Americana world, with this semi-autobiographical "How I Met Your Mother" song (another woman involved, naturally). Couple of reasons I love this: firstly, the true love affair here is with his Gold Top Les Paul gee-tar; secondly, the whole Polk Salad Annie bit... although, being an English teacher, I have to take issue with Ray's use of metaphor...

So we hit it off, me and this dancer

We hit it off like a metaphor

Like a metaphor for a hydrogen bomb

We was enriched uranium, supercritical mass

We was a, a chain reaction

It was love and lust

Ah, mostly lust, but a mutual attraction

I mean, if it's like a metaphor, surely that makes it a simile, Ray?