Loose Articles are from Manchester. They're one of an increasing number of punky girl&guitar bands that are leaving the boys in the shade at the moment. (See also Panic Shack, Twat Union, The Pill et al.) They also have a lot of fun in their videos, like here...
...and here...
However, the song I'm most taken with at the moment is this one, which doesn't appear to have a video... yet, at least. I'm fascinated with it because it appears to start with the intro to Run To You by Bryan Adams... and then segue into Come As You Are by Nirvana. Or is it Teen Spirit? It definitely sounds Nirvana-ey. That's some audacious theft right there. More power to the Loose Articles!
10. Not a lot of kids called this these days... he almost claims.
You may recall a song we featured here a few weeks back about how there aren't many kids called Gary these days. It helps if you pay attention to the rest of this blog, not just the Snapshots.
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 drink my coffee black, because that's how I prefer it. Despite my previously discussed aversion to cold milk, I can have milk in coffee... I just don't like it. Also, less calories, so it's win/win for me. I also don't have sugar, because... why would you?
The song at the top of this post, by Sinéad, was written by Sonny Burke and Paul Francis Webster back in the late 1940s. This is the original version...
...but it's also been recorded by all the usual suspects: Frank, Ella, Petula... Tricky.
Back when I drank tea, I used to take it black with no sugar as well. I couldn't find any songs about Black Tea, so here's some Pennyroyal Tea for you tea drinkers.
Give me a Leonard Cohen afterworld
So I can sigh eternally
I'm so tired I can't sleep
I'm a liar and a thief
Sit and drink Pennyroyal Tea
I'm anaemic royalty
(Be warned though, although Pennyroyal leaf extracts are relatively harmless, Pennyroyal Oil can cause syncope, seizures, coma, cardiopulmonary collapse, acute liver injury, renal insufficiency and multiorgan failure. You might be better sticking with a nice cup of coffee.)
The big question is... why did I call this post “Dead Pheasant”? Not because the pheasant had been eating from the Pennyroyal plant, I assure you.
No, this comes from an amusing story my mum told me at the weekend, about the time my dad hit a pheasant with his car on his way home from work. If you drive the country lanes round here, kamikaze pheasants are a constant risk. They really are the stupidest of birds, and appear to have a pathological desire to run out in front of oncoming traffic. Watch them run and you can also see how they’re clearly descended from dinosaurs. Although thankfully, they do less damage to your car than hitting a velociraptor.
Anyway, my dad hit the pheasant, and being a Yorkshire farmer, he brought it home for tea. Waste not, want not. “I lit some candles,” Mum told me, “and we had a nice romantic meal.”
I'm not sure he needs it yet, he's still a few years off being a sweaty teenager, but apparently it's the thing. So his mum bought him some Lynx. Because the makers have moved away from the ridiculous notion that if you spray yourself with Lynx, thousands of teenage girls will come chasing after you (presumably with some bleach and a scrubbing brush) and now they're promoting themselves via the notion of sporting prowess - wearing Lynx will make you into a G.O.A.T.
It probably goes without saying that I have a problem with Lynx. Due to "odour-linked memories", I don't get The Lynx Effect... I get The Proust Effect.
This name came about because the author Marcel Proust wrote in his book, Swann’s Way, that the smell of a pastry he dipped in his tea brought on a rush of joy associated with his childhood.
However, due to our storytelling brain, the opposite is also true. I don't know if Marcel Proust ever smelt Lynx deodorant, but if he did, I hope it whisked him back to school changing rooms on a wet Wednesday afternoon, when all the footy lads were raring to go, and young Proust was feeling queasy, intimidated and ready for his weekly hour of humiliation. Because that's what happens to me. One whiff of Lynx and I end up right back here...
If you haven't watched The Bear, you're missing the best show on TV at the moment. I don't care if you haven't got Disney+ - get the trial offer and binge-watch the first two series. Do it now. Well, after you've finished reading this post anyway.
The Bear is about a chef who inherits the management of a busy Chicago sandwich shop after his brother commits suicide. He decides to turn it into an up-market restaurant, using the same staff who worked in the sandwich shop. It's a very tense show - it really gives you a feel for what it's like to work in a fast-paced food service environment (lots of shouting) - but it's also very funny. Lots of big name actors want to appear in it - Jamie Lee Curtis, Olivia Coleman, Will Poulter and Bob Odenkirk all pop up in Season 2 - clearly recognising the strength of the scripts. But something occurred to me while I was watching the most recent episodes... one of the show's main themes is mental health.
All the characters in The Bear are damaged in one way or another. Jeremy Allen White, who plays lead chef Carmen Berzatto, is an expert at showing inner turmoil with little more than a twitch of his brow. But the real star of the show for me is Ebon Moss-Bachrach who plays Carmy's cousin Ritchie, a character who quickly begins to feel out of his depth as his workplace transforms around him. Ritchie is full of bluster, but it masks a deep, deep insecurity. I have a lot of time for Ritchie, out of all the great characters in The Bear, he's the one I relate to the most.
The episode that really brought this home came midway through the second series. Sensing Ritchie's disquiet, Carmy sends him to work for a week in one of the top restaurants in the country. He starts by cleaning forks, a job he thinks beneath him, but by the end of the week, he's virtually running the restaurant floor. It's never explicitly stated in the script, but what happens over the course of that episode is that Ritchie learns to respect himself, and in doing so earns the respect of his colleagues. A grumpy, middle-aged man singing along to a Taylor Swift song has never sounded so sweet...
It's not a complete transformation: he's still Ritchie at heart. He just likes himself a little more, and finds a purpose and value in what he's doing. He commits to a change and he feels better because of it. A number of things in my life triggered this blog series, but I honestly think that this episode of The Bear was an epiphany. It made me realise I can't just sit around waiting for the world to change to make me happier. Instead, I have to change the way I see the world. If that sounds like bollocks, then yeah... I'd have thought the same thing a few months back. And maybe I still do, deep down. But I'm trying not to. And that's a start.
I've always been content to take the pieces
That I've been given
Make a mess with the results
Justify it all
Everybody's using all their breath telling everyone else
Some of the many causes of low self-esteem may include: Unhappy childhood where parents (or other significant people such as teachers) were extremely critical. Poor academic performance in school resulting in a lack of confidence. Ongoing stressful life event such as relationship breakdown or financial trouble.
But I look at those potential explanations and I can't see any that fit me. My childhood, in particular, I remember as a mostly very happy time. I grew up in a loving home and while I didn't have loads of friends, I was OK with the ones I had. There was a recurring bullying situation in my early teens which left some emotional scars, but no worse than a lot of people. So why do I have such a downer on myself? Maybe the why doesn't matter, just that I'm finally trying to do something about it.
Mind offers all kinds of tips for improving self-esteem, though they are keen to stress that "different things work for different people at different times. Only try what you feel comfortable with."
I think I'll skip past this one...
Say positive things to yourself. Some people like to do this in front of a mirror. It can feel strange at first, but you may feel more comfortable the more you do it.
But you listen to those lyrics and you realise that the reason they find The Greatest Love Of All "easy to achieve" is because they already respect themselves. What about the rest of us?
If you don't love yourself, you won't be happy with yourself. If you can't love yourself, you can't love anyone else. You can't make anyone love you without loving yourself first.
But where I come from, Kemi, there's nothing worse than someone who loves themselves. We call that arrogance, egomania... or being just like Kevin.
Girls try to attract his attention But what a shame, it's in vain, total rejection He will never be left on the shelf 'Cause Kevin, he's in love with himself
In my head, loving yourself goes hand in hand with not giving a shit about anyone else. And I've spent my whole life fighting against people like that. Or at least getting exceedingly pissed off by them.
How then to find the right balance? Well, much as I would like someone to send me to work in a top restaurant for a week so that I can learn how to like myself, it's probably not going to happen. Mind says, "Try to avoid comparing yourself to others." So I'll put Cousin Ritchie out of my mind.
I started this post with the original version of Respect Yourself by The Staple Singers. It's a fine song. A classic. But you know what? The 1987 cover version by Bruce Willis means much more to me. As I've mentioned before, it was the first 7" single I ever bought. Many people are ashamed by their first record purchase and make excuses for it, saying things like, "I was really young and I hadn't developed my musical taste..." I could say the same... but honestly, I listen to this now and it still makes me smile the way it did when I was 15. And I guess I respect myself at least enough to admit that to you.
I was going to call this feature Gramophone Homophone,but I got all tangled up trying to explain the difference between homophones, homonyms and homographs (even for an English teacher, that's not easy). Plus, Namesakes just seemed easier for my aching fingers to type every week.
Simply put, a Namesake is two (or more) bands that have the same name either in spelling or (very occasionally) in pronunciation, but a very different sound. I'll play you a song by each, you just have to tell me (vote!) which you prefer. I will announce the winner next week.
It's much easier to explain with an example, so we'll start with the obvious one. Here are two bands called Nirvana...
NIRVANA #1
In 1965, Irish musician Patrick Campbell-Lyons and Greek composer Alex Spyropoulos formed the first Nirvana, a bunch of prog-psych-baroque-concept album chin-scratchers who were one splashed with black paint by Salvador Dali during a French TV appearance, though Dali refused to sign their clothes afterwards, so I doubt they made any money on that. They split up after their third album in the early 70s, then started reformed in the mid-80s, just in time to come to a nice out of court settlement with Kurt Cobain when he started using the same band name soon after. Iffypedia suggests "Cobain's record label paid $100,000 to the original Nirvana to permit Cobain's band continued use of the name", which is a rather clumsily worded way of saying that Campbell-Lyons and Spyropoulos made more money out of Kurt than they did out of Salvador.
This is their biggest "hit", reaching #34 in the UK charts in 1968. It might be the first record to use flanging throughout the whole track, or it might not. It's from the album "The Existence of Chance Is Everything and Nothing While the Greatest Achievement Is the Living of Life, and so Say ALL OF US". Marc Bolan bought ten copies.
NIRVANA #2
Our second Nirvana needs no introduction, so I won't give them one.
I do sometimes wonder where Nirvana would be today, and how they would be considered, had Kurt Cobain not taken his own life. We might never have had the Foo Fighters, for a start. And what a huge loss that would be to rock music. (You can take that last sentence however you choose to.)
There are far more obvious Nirvana songs to choose, but I selected Sliver to go up against Rainbow Chaser. Despite Cobain's reputation from grungy angst, this is a simple and sweet tune about not wanting to spend the day eating mashed potato and tough meat at your grandparents' house while your mum and dad are out partying. I love it.
There we go. Two Nirvanas to choose from. But which one will get your vote?
