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?
Give yourself a good laugh and watch that video if you've not seen it in awhile. Kenny Everett springs to mind.
Not only that, but it's National Coconut Torte Day. A day to contemplate sit in the dessert which "sits in that delicious gray area between cake and pastry: rich like a cake, structured like a layer dessert, and often dressed up enough to look like it belongs in a bakery window."
I don't think I've ever eaten a coconut torte. Have I been missing out.
It's National Jewel Day too - I did my quiz about jewels this week, but it wasn't a particularly interesting subject so I won't bother you guys with it.
It's also (no, I'm not making any of these up): National Earmuff Day, International Riesling Day, National Open An Umbrella Indoors Day (on Friday the 13th... are you mad!?!), National Freelancers Day and World Sleep Day.
But all of these wonderful celebrations are trumped (I don't like using that verb any more, even in terms of metaphorical card games) by the aforementioned Bad Luck Friday... our second in a row, thanks to February's insistence on being exactly four weeks long (most of the time).
Actually, there are surprisingly few decent songs about Friday 13th. Thank god then for little Bob Smith, who's clearly having another Bad Hair Day in this video... no change there then.
Welcome to a new interactive blog feature in which we look at old records that might not have aged particularly well. Nothing to do with cancelling Boy George and pals - that just made a good name / visual.
I'm not an advocate of Cancel Culture. Like all these movements, I believe it started with good intentions, before being hijacked by reactionaries and zealots. I also think there's a danger in cancelling things or people and pretending they never existed, even if they deserve it. Better to open a debate and consider context, try to examine how times have changed and why our responses today might be different than they were 20/30/40/50 years ago.
To help me with this process, I invited a crack team of bloggers and friends to give us their opinions... so it's not just me boring you with my namby pamby snowflake / misanthropic traditionalist attitudes. We'll call them The Cancel Culture Club Committee.
Let's see what they make of today's tune...
I was going to write more of an introduction, but the good thing about co-opting this features to some of the finest writers on the interweb (apart from the bots, obviously) is that other people do a far better job of it than I ever could.
Prime example - here's Alyson from the Jukebox Time Machine. What's It All About, Alyson...?
Rol, I see you are looking for people’s opinions on whether certain songs from the past should be seen in a rather different light in these modern, progressive times. Should they be cancelled/banned/never played or listened to again? Or do they still have merit despite their old-fashioned attitudes?
The first example you give of such a song is Young Girl by Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, lyrically all about a man who finds out that the girl he is with is younger than she initially made out. He therefore asks her to leave before things “go too far”.
I am just about old enough to remember this song from when it first came out in 1968, but I reckon it was when it was re-released in 1974 that I took a real shine to it. The chorus especially has a very jaunty, upbeat sound to it, like other songs from the era such as Everlasting Love. The session musicians who worked on it were part of The Wrecking Crew, that group of top LA session musicians who helped the Beach Boys, Phil Spector, and many others to make classic songs and albums. What could possibly be the problem with it? Because the lyrics refer to an older man with a “young girl”, it doesn’t sit well with our 21st century sensibilities, and quite rightly. But it wasn’t written in the 21st century, and as it turns out, the chap in the lyrics is doing the honourable thing telling the girl she has to get out of his life – something I don’t think many chaps from my neck of the woods would have done in 1968. I don’t feel it should be banned or cancelled but treated in the same way as certain books and films are now, a product of their time, 1968.
A bit of background to those times: again, I am old enough to remember that the school leaving age in Scotland until 1972 was still 14. Many stayed longer of course but my Primary School also had a Junior Secondary for those local pupils who hadn’t passed their 11+. The girls concentrated on Home Economics (preparing them for being housewives) and the boys on technical subjects. They had their own cloakroom area, and as few wore school uniform we were in awe of these “women” in their fashionable coats, boots, earrings, and perms just like their mums. Once they left school the girls often found jobs in local shops and started going out with local chaps, driving around in their cars ahead of giving up work at 16/17 to get married and have babies. I really don’t think anyone considered the “age of consent” back then and just let nature take its course. What I’m saying is that in 1968, many girls were a lot more mature than girls of a similar age today so we can’t directly compare the definition of what is a “young girl”. Saying the times were different isn’t always a valid excuse for keeping things in the public domain, but I’m giving Young Girl a pass.
So, Rol, that’s my take on this first song on your list of many. Hope I’m not totally out of kilter with everyone else. One more example before I go: I don’t think there was national outrage back in the day when we heard that Elvis’s relationship with Priscilla started when she was 14, and that she moved into Graceland with him at 16, that has only happened in more recent enlightened times. Again, she looked like her mother, not a schoolgirl, and there were plenty more just like her. A reflection of “the times”.
Thank you, Alyson. Without pre-empting the comments below too much, I think it's fair to say you won't be completely out of kilter. And I knew when I asked for your opinion that it would come filled with a warm touch of nostalgic anecdote and level-headed thinking. You raise an interesting question though - just because times and attitudes change, does it automatically mean we should view previous attitudes as "wrong"? What you suggest here is that those attitudes were right, in their way, for those times... just as today's attitudes are just as right for the here and now. I don't think that will always be the case in this series, but I certainly think Young Girl deserves a little more credit than it might be given by contemporary mores.
Now I had wanted the wonderful John Medd to open today's commentary, purely because he always runs my pictures first in his monthly Photo Challenge (even though they rarely match up to the images that follow) and I wanted to pay him back for that. Still, I'm sure you'll all understand why I let Alyson go first. So John goes next...
As jailbait songs go I think Young Girl is pretty tame. Gary Puckett is hardly in the same league as Jeffrey Epstein; it appears he's realised where this could potentially lead and is deploying reverse gear. As to whether it should be cherished or cancelled, I'm sorry but I don't care enough about the record/song to get that invested in it. If it were to come on the radio I wouldn't be grinding my teeth and penning a letter to Ofcom, let's put it that way.
Of course, our own personal taste - whether we like a tune or (to quote George) think it's bobbins, will doubtlessly feed into our reactions, but I'm glad that John won't be writing to Ofcom. Not that I think he'd need to - I honestly can't remember the last time I heard Young Girl on the radio. In fact, I only heard it again recently when I was listening to a compilation of songs featuring The Wrecking Crew. Unlike John though, I think I had a far more positive reaction - musically, it's a belter, Puckett's soulful voice complemented by some of the best musicians LA had to offer at the time. It really got stuck in my head... but then I found myself feeling rather awkward about wanting to sing along. And it turns out I'm not alone in that...
All the way from sunny Portugal, here's George...
I can't stop singing this song!! Walking the dogs the other day, I was even "singing" it out loud. Without delving into the lyrics, it's simply a great 1960s pop song, driven by that fantastic, strong Gary Puckett vocal. And now, thanks to Rol, I've actually listened closely to the lyrics "and though you know it's wrong to be alone with me....that come-on look is in your eyes". To say the least, that's a bit distasteful. I've probably got this song on more than one compilation album, and I would not skip over it, indeed I'd probably sing along, divorcing myself from the sentiment and just warble along with "young girl get out of my mind" etc. And I just can't bring myself to saying that it should be cancelled.
And that ability to divorce ourselves from distasteful sentiment is very similar to that old discussion we often have about separating song from singer, art from artist. It's the only way I can keep enjoying The Smiths, by disconnecting myself from how I feel about Morrissey as a person. And we all do that to some extent in our appreciation of art, something which will doubtless be a recurring motif in this series. Still, while George is fine singing along to Young Girl while walking the sun-scorched fields of Portugal... I'm sure we'd all think twice these days about singing it on the high street. And as a retired teacher, I'm sure George would understand the dangers of walking across the playground with this song in his head... as a non-retired teacher, I shudder at the thought.
Next up, it's time to hear from World Traveller and (some believe) secret agent / super-spy, Ernie Goggins...
I don't really have a problem with this one. Yes, Gary admits to inappropriate desires, but ultimately he decides not to act on them, unlike actual paedophiles like R. Kelly, G. Glitter etc. who rightly were cancelled and should be strung up by their goolies. And while the lyrics are a bit creepy, there are countless songs on the same subject that are much creepier (any version of 'Good Morning Little Schoolgirl' for example) and others that are innocent in intent but sound very dodgy if you don't know what they are meant to be about (like 'Clair' by Gilbert O'Sullivan).
Sadly, it was impossible to dip our toe into this subject without mentioned those whose names have gone down in infamy. A distinction would, I hope, be made between the convicted predators mentioned above and others who have had age-gap relationships which might now be classed as statutory rape. John Peel and David Bowie, to name but two. The waters grow murkier the more we wade into them wearing Contemporary Perspective wellies... here's an interesting piece about why "we should not judge people with problematic pasts by how much we like their work" by John Sturgis. As a self-confessed fan of both Peel and Bowie though, I'm not sure he reaches any kind of firm conclusion.
Going back to George for a second. When I first announced this series, George emailed me to express a very relevant concern...
I am wondering about this, it is an interesting idea but is there a chance that some people might get extremely offended? Would you consider songs from certain glam-era pop stars who have been imprisoned? Would it include blues singers who killed someone? Or are you just going by potentially inappropriate song titles and sentiments such as the one you sent out? (I'm now thinking of a Nirvana song on their In Utero album that I have a problem with).
And my answer to that was that was that I didn't intend for this series to be about the singers, just the songs. Still, while I'm trying to keep things light-hearted, we will inevitably touch upon very serious subject matter, and pose questions to which there are no straightforward answers. But I respect the opinions of everyone I've asked to take part, and I knew they would approach their task in a sensible fashion. There's no place for reactionaries at Top Ten Towers.
Ernie and CC both mention a number of other songs which could be lumped into the same category, and maybe we'll look at those in more detail in future instalments. Although the defence lawyer for many of those old rock 'n' roll records that mentioned the number 16 would no doubt argue that those songs were aimed at teenage girls, and that many of the singers were meant to represent teenage boys. Which leads us to Martin from New Amusements, today's primary dissenting voice...
Tricky one. It's not like Gary was singing this at 17... he was 25, and Jerry Fuller (who wrote it) was 29 at the time. Even as I type this, I can hear Harold Steptoe in my head - "You dirty old man", etc.
Also, if you consider that the song might have been meant as a serious meditation on a man realising the object of his desire is younger than she appeared, well, you think that would be a slow, contemplative song, perhaps sad, perhaps poignant. But it fairly bounces along, major key, brass, the lot.
Also, Gary/Jerry seems to be trying to put the blame on the young girl in question if lyrics like "You've kept the secret of your youth, You led me to believe you're old enough" are anything to go by. Victim-shaming!
And then there's the slightly forbidding "You'd better run, girl" which sets a quite different tone from, say, the cautionary tale nature of something like U16 Girls by Travis.
I'm not a big believer in cancellation, and even less so in banning... but I could happily never listen to this again, and just let it die a natural death. Does it still have merit? Musically, I guess - lots of Wrecking Crew on there, I think. But lyrically? It's a no from me.
Thank you, Martin - and you raise a number of interesting points that we haven't yet tackled. I'm intrigued by your idea that serious meditations should only be the province of slower songs. I'm not sure I agree, but then I'm not sure you meant it as a blanket rule either. I can think of quite a few songs by that artist whose songs we both (still, unfortunately) enjoy which tackle very sombre or serious subject matter in jaunty sing-a-long fashion. Sometimes that contrast can be used to effect. You did make me wonder though if Young Girl would have raised quite so many alarm bells if it was performed as a Scott Walker melodrama.
I think Martin's response perfectly encapsulated how, as 21st Century men, we are conditioned to respond to this question. Because, to paraphrase Bruce Willis in Die Hard, if you're not a part of the solution, you're a part of the problem. And none of us would want to be lumped in with some of the nefarious names mentioned elsewhere in this post.
Martin wasn't the only person to bring up the concept of victim-shaming. Those of you who have been reading this blog far longer than is good for your mental health will remember that back in the glorious days of the Covid Lockdown, my own sanity was saved by regular Whatsapp conversations with my old friend and former colleague, Ben. As a sociologist, I invited him to contribute to this series and he sent me a brief plan for his response to Young Girl, but then he was called away on a super-secret mission somewhere in the groves of Academe. I hesitate to say that Ben is like an Intellectual Ernie, because I don't doubt Ernie's mental capacity one bit. But they both have a habit of going off to save the world at the drop of a hat, and when they do, you won't hear from them again until all communication restrictions have been lifted.
Ben's response would have touched upon societal context, suggesting that Young Girl was the product, not the cause of a "victim-blaming misogyny that was embedded in culture" back then. Anyway, he sends his apologies and asked that I post the image below as an illustration of his response...
All of which brings us to today's final contributor, and I saved her contribution till last as I felt it encapsulated much of what has already been mentioned, while also (like Alyson before her) offering a female perspective of someone who lived through these particular trenches.
As for Gary Puckett & Union Gap, 'Young Girl', I must admit I'm ok with it - no need to cancel. 14 year old me, and all my 14 year old friends at the time too, know that young girl rather too well I think and, to be perfectly honest, after dousing ourselves in Charlie perfume and applying too much lipgloss, I think we would've been more offended at our narrator telling us to hurry home to mummy (I mean, how patronising! It's not even a school night!) But in all seriousness, he is trying to do the decent thing, being very candid about it too - and I'm happy to believe that he does. Plus, it's a good song. Of course if the object of his salacious affection is a lot, lot younger than I've surmised, then we're straying into different territory altogether...but I'm in the camp that thinks that maybe it would say more about the listener than the songwriter to naturally assume that particular scenario.
Hope that sounds ok, and I'm not on my own here!
You're never on your own here, C. You're always among friends.
Young Girl, then - some of you would be quite happy to never hear it again, while others can't help singing along to it (at least in their head). This isn't Room 101 though, and I'm never going to even attempt to reach a conclusion in this series... for me, the debate is enough.
Thank you to everyone for taking the time to contribute. We'll examine another contentious tune soon.
I was unsure if this series would be a success, so I limited the invitations to its maiden voyage. But maybe there are other people reading who would like to take part?
If you'd like to join the Cancel Culture Club Committee and share your opinions on our next dubious ditty, then please drop me a line, or let me know in the comments box, and you're in. The more the merrier, as long as you're not a nutter.
I don't want to live in a world without Tina Turner.
I realise that's a sweeping statement, especially considering I've only mentioned her name 18 times since this blog began, which is nothing compared to many of the artists who pop up here. But when I think about the legends we've lost in this blog's lifetime - Bowie and Prince being the biggest, but then we get onto Aretha, Tom Petty, Chuck Berry, Meat Loaf, Glen Campbell, George Michael... all the rest... well, Tina's up there with the best of them. She is a legend, and growing up in the 80s, she was always there, with her huge hair, her enormous smile, her high-kicking, sassy-strutting legs, the lips that could give Jagger a run for his money, the sheer charisma and star quality that transcended the music and made her seem untouchable, immortal.
And then there's the music. So many great songs, or (particularly in the latter part of her career) songs that would have been average if given to any other performer, but Tina made them live. Of course, average is not the word for the song below, recorded when she was just 27 in 1966, but still one of the greatest performances ever committed to vinyl.
Ike had nothing to do with that one. He just did a deal with Spector to take his usual cut of the money. The record itself was considered a flop at the time. We all know the stories. They're part of the legend. And legends shouldn't ever die. They should stay alive forever.
Tina Turner's name gets dropped in hundreds of pop songs. The majority of them are rap records which occasionally make reference to her turbulent private life, but more often channel her as a metaphor for strength, resilience and power. Here's one that doesn't quite do all that, but I dug it anyway...
Beyond rap, here are a few tunes that will help maintain her legacy, starting with a typically self-effacing (!) tribute from Little Richard himself...
Ike and Tina Turner got an earthquake sound
But I'm the man from Macon and I'm gonna put 'em down!
Rod and Tina probably did have tea together after recording the tune below... which isn't as good as the original (because nothing could be), but it's better than you remember...
Today's final song, I had in mind from the start. It's the best track from my 17th favourite record of last year, and it seems the most appropriate to play on the day we mourn another lost legend...
Yesterday morning, Jane Russell helped usher in a Top Ten Jane Songs... but I wonder if anyone can identify the famous Jane above? Piece of cake, right?
