Every gambler knows that the secret to survival is knowing what to throw away, and knowing what to keep. Because every hand's a winner, and every hand's a loser, and the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep.
Wiser words have seldom been sung. Here's this week's full house...
Apologies. I got two thirds of the way through this countdown before life got in the way. But I don't like leaving things unfinished, so the Hot 100 is back... maybe not every week, but whenever I get the time. Your suggestions, as always, are very welcome.
Wretch 32, pictured above, is a popular grime star, apparently. We used to have grime round these parts, then we got a new window cleaner.
Way back in July, George wondered whether the unsavoury lyrics in this oldie might make it unpalatable...
And here's the Charlatans with the same song... but not The Charlatans you and I know, the Manc band fronted by Tim Burgess, no, this is the original Charlatans...
And that was it for your suggestions. But what did my record collection throw up? Let's see if we can go even lower than Mr. Mister to start with, and climb up from there, shall we?
38 Special are a Southern rock band formed by Donnie Van Zant, the younger brother of Lynyrd Skynyrd singer Ronnie.
As Martin identified in last week's comments, loads of songs make mention of the Smith & Wesson .38 Special, and though he chose not to mention them "in the spirit of gun control", that didn't stop the rest of you! I was metaphorically blown away by the following fully-loaded suggestions from...
All roads lead back to Nick Lowe. Going with "Me and My .38" by Carlene Carter off of 'Blue Nun' from 1981. This one was co-written and produced by then husband Lowe. She's backed by Lowe's band at the time... Paul Carrack, Martin Belmont, James Eller and Bobby Irwin. Love this album. Tough broad. When she leaves the key under the mat, you better show up or you'll have a double date with her and her .38.
I wish I could find that somewhere online, Brian, because it sounds like a cracker. Sadly, the internet let me down. However, I'll see your Nick Lowe suggestion and raise you this...
I'm not putting that into google translate, but I bet it's mucky.
Back to Martin then, who clearly thinks he's identified a smart way of winning this game: just choose songs by my favourite artists. (Although Lynchie's still smarting that this tactic didn't work for him last week.)
(Yeah, I know that last one would get quickly disqualified if one of you suggested it, but it's still a belter if you like Jeff Lynne shamelessly ripping off the Beatles.)
But, I'm sure it comes with great relief that Douglas saved you all from having to listen to Jon Bon Jovi's boob-inspired lyrics this week by suggesting this cracking story song from his oft-requested Canadian heroes, The Tragically Hip. I have a weakness for story songs, particularly when they involve breaking out of prison.
Bowie. Prince. Frey. Haggard. Rickman. Lemmy. Wogan. Shandling. Paul. Martin. Corbett. etc. etc. etc.
All gone.
Trump. Boris. Cowell. Kanye. Cameron. McIntyre.
Still alive and prospering.
Let's face it, these are the end times. But let's not be down. Let's celebrate instead with ten singers who know exactly where we're all going... and still plan on having a half decent time when they get there.
We'll start off this week with a blast of contemporary American hard rock from former Gossip Girl star Taylor Momsen and her band. It's wrong in so many ways, and for admitting to liking it... well, you know where I'm going.
I'm starting to think The Long Blondes were one of the last great British indie bands. Post Britpop, they never really made it as big as they should have, and their career was cut short when guitarist and songwriter Dorian Cox suffered a stroke in 2008. They're still missed. (Although lead singer Kate Jackson releases her debut solo album very soon.)
I never grow tired of listening to Kathleen Edwards, one of Canada's finest musical exports... even though she appears to have put her glorious voice on ice for a while to concentrate on running a coffee shop. That's a sign of the times, right there...
Ah, the 80s: so much to answer for. Chris Rea's biggest hit became synonymous with a particular type of uncool dadrock that Alan Partridge would have turned up to 9 1/2 in his Kia Optima and wound the windows down while cruising up the M6. But leave all that aside and this is still a wonderfully atmospheric slice of blues-rock aided greatly by Rea's gravelly growl, particularly if you listen to the full 7 minute version.
I do like Gerard Way. He's a proper pop star. He's nicked bits from Bowie, Freddie, Alice Cooper: he understands the theatrical nature of rock 'n' roll... this one even steals its rhythm from Susanna by The Art Company. He knows his stuff. Pity his solo record was a weak stab at Britpop (!) and he seems to be focussing his attention these days more on writing comics than dressing in silly black clothes and pogoing into the crowd.
If anyone was going to end up in Hell, Robert Johnson was a good bet... considering that deal he made at the crossroads to get him where he got (arguably creating popular music while he was there).
On this track, the devil comes calling for Robert. It was only a matter of time...
Because he was such an influential artist, I felt it important to own every single Robert Johnson recording. It's not hard to do - they fit comfortably on a double CD, including the alternative versions.
Me & The Devil Blues has been recorded by everyone from The Doors to Cowboy Junkies to Gil Scott Heron (and Clapton, obviously). But none of them ever tried to beat Bob...
As usual, Tom hits the nail on the head. What is he building in there?
Why be sweet, why be careful, why be kind? A man has only one thing on his mind Why ask politely, why go lightly, why say please? They only want to get you on your knees There's a few things that I never could believe
A woman when she weeps A merchant when he swears A thief who says he'll pay A lawyer when he cares A snake when he is sleeping A drunkard when he prays I don't believe you go to heaven when you're good And everything goes to hell, anyway
I was a big fan of Chris Isaak back in the early 90s, but he'd slipped off my radar somewhat until I heard him on Bob Harris a few weeks ago. This song in particular sold me on his latest album (2015's First Comes The Night), which turned out to be a terrific set of classic (original) rock 'n' roll songs. As on his most famous songs from back in the day (Wicked Game, Blue Hotel, San Francisco Days), he still owes a great debt to the Big O, but there's a wicked sense of humour at play amid the heartbreak: and Down In Flames is a song Elvis would have given his star spangled jumpsuit for in his latter days. (Well, except for that one line at the end of the second verse...)
James Dean bought it on the highway
Marilyn found it in a pill
Elvis died – or did he? – they're looking for him still
Some go soft and quiet
Some go out with a bang
Well it's way too late for the pearly gates I'm going down in flames
Down in flames
Down in flames
When the good times end and they count my sins
I'm going down in flames
Isaak claims to be a very bad boy in this song, but he seemed like a genuinely decent bloke when I heard him interviewed. Very funny and down-to-earth with a real passion for playing music live, even if he's no longer blessed with hits. But he'll be 60 this year and he doesn't look a day over 35... so maybe he did do a deal sometime in the early 90s that sealed his fate.
There are two distinct versions of this classic Morrissey tune. There's a typically jangly guitar-led live version which originally appeared on the Live at KROQ release and as the b-side to My Love Life. And then there's the mournful, piano-based torch original which closes the unfairly maligned Kill Uncle album, and still remains one of the most beautiful things Moz has ever recorded. Bizarrely, on Kill Uncle's 2013 re-issue ("repackage, repackage"), the latter was replaced with the former, which diminshed the whole album's impact greatly. Whoever was responsible for that switch... well, there's a warm place for you down below...
1. AC/DC - Highway To Hell
When songwriters die, we suddenly hear their lyrics in an entirely different way. That's been proved time and time again this year, from Bowie to Prince, Lemmy to Glenn Frey. But rarely was it more true than back in 1980 when Bon Scott drank himself to death in a Renault 5. Highway To Hell was Scott's last album, and many see the lyrics - particular those of the title track - as a great one-fingered salute to all those who were telling him to slow down.
Goin' down
Party time
My friends are gonna be there too
It's strange - but gratifying - the way AC/DC have become accepted by the masses over the last few years. You'll regularly hear tracks like Highway To Hell and Back In Black played on Radio 2 - a station that wouldn't have touched them 30 years ago. Bon Scott may be long gone... but he'll never be forgotten. I hope he's having a good time down there.
Which one will you be listening to when you reach your final destination?
