Louis Eliot’s Rialto were a particular favourite of mine in
the late 90s post-Britpop landscape, mixing Suede’s urban glamour with more
personal, storytelling songs like Monday Morning 5:19
and Summer’s Over.
Although they didn’t really make it in the UK, apparently they were very big in
Southeast Asia, where they even managed to knock Celine Dion off the top of the
album chart. They split up in 2004 when Louis went solo… so I figured there was
as much chance of a new Rialto record this year as there was of Pulp getting
back together.
Neon & Ghost Signs picks up where they left off, as
though the last 21 years never happened. It was never going to win them an army
of new fans, but for anyone who remembers them from the first time round, it
does the job. Although the lead single clearly owes a huge debt to Kylie… but
there’s nothing wrong with that.
15. Todd Snider – High, Lonesome & Then Some
And so we say farewell to Todd Snider, an Americana hero of
mine since the moment I first heard Talkin' Seattle Grunge
Rock Blues when it cropped up on an Uncut CD back in the early 90s.
Todd’s final album, written and recorded while he struggled
with chronic pain due to spinal stenosis, is a rambling, bluesy, low key affair
which I wouldn’t recommend to anyone who’s not sampled his work before. Start
with Songs for the Daily Planet, East Nashville Skyline or 2021’s First
Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder. For those of us who’ve been with Todd for
the long ride though, it’s his last hurrah, and just as worthy of our time as
anything he’s ever recorded.
14. Kathleen Edwards – Billionaire
Some artists keep reinventing themselves, striving for the
new sound, trying to keep ahead of the crowd. Others take the Tom Petty
template and refuse to tamper with a successful sound, just continue giving the
people what they want. Kathleen Edwards is from the latter camp – the songs on
her 6th album, Billionaire, wouldn’t sound out of place on her 2002
debut record, Failer. (And if half a dozen albums doesn’t sound much for 23
years, bear in mind that she took 8 years off to run a coffee shop in the middle
of last decade.) If you liked any of her previous records, chances are you’ll
find much to enjoy here.
If anyone's wondering what's happened to The Cancel Culture Club, we will be back a little later this month with two festive offerings... possibly our last, for reasons I'll discuss more later.
In the meantime, in a belated follow-up to the first edition of that series, when we discussed Gary Puckett's Young Girl, here are a couple of tunes celebrating the virtues of older woman.
First, from his excellent 2025 album Only Frozen Sky Anyway, here's Jonathan Richman with a tale about being a lovestruck teenager obsessed with a "slightly older girl"...
And secondly, also from this year, and sadly from what turned out to be his final album, here's the late great Todd Snider again with a sentiment that many of his male rock star contemporaries might do well to take note of...
I write a lot of these posts. Every week or so, another famous name takes the long walk and I try to commemorate them with a spot on the jukebox. Anyone who's made any kind of impression on my life - singers, actors, writers, comic book artists... I try to say something about all of them.
Every now and then though, someone passes who makes a bigger impact than the rest.
I've been a fan of Todd Snider for about thirty years now. I've bought every record he's made and downloaded all the free live versions with storytelling intros that he gives away on his website. Todd was a witty, erudite and astute songwriter, and from everything I read about him, I got the impression he was a damn fine human being too. He's been suffering chronic pain for a while now as a result of spinal stenosis, but he's kept touring and making records (I got his latest, High, Lonesome & Then Some just a couple of weeks back). Late last week he ended up in hospital with pneumonia... and he didn't make it out. He was 59 years old.
I'm not going looking for songs with Todd's name in the lyrics... because I'm pretty sure I won't find any. Instead, I'm just going to post some of my favourite Todd Snider songs. As far as I'm concerned, the guy was a legend...
I read a very interesting post by Ian McNabb on the Book of Faces last week. You might have seen it yourself. If not, here's what he had to say in reference to the image above...
Let's kill this myth.
As a practitioner I have been into the minutiae of this well-debated subject a hundred times. I have lived with a song from its inception to its release into the world.
The original mix, either on tape or digital, gets mastered before we the public get to hear it. This is CRUCIAL to the process. In the eighties when CDs first appeared they were often mastered from poor sources - usually ancient production masters, frequently second or third generation. They sounded quiet, muddy and flat.
As we became a CD consuming global market things improved. CDs were mastered with greater care and consumers began demanding higher quality for their money, often starting at £14.99 (!).
Then the LOUDNESS WARS began in the mid-nineties. Mastering engineers began brick-walling mixes (making the CDs louder at the expense of definition and dynamic range). This meant compression and lots of it, making prolonged listening a slog and rather tiring after ten minutes.
Since then mastering has gotten pretty good.
I've forensically analysed my own finished CDs and vinyl. To the point of madness. Vinyl is a great experience, largely due to size of the artwork and the ritual freeing the vinyl from its sleeve and placing it on a turntable. From that point on its a disappointment.
Unless you've spent a lot of money on your hardware the vinyl is never going to sound as good as the CD - even on an entry-level system.
Vinyl is a LOSS format.
As for MP3s/streaming, well that's the way most people are going to hear the music. All streaming services have their own algorithms and the music sounds perfectly serviceable even to my professional ears.
I fell in love with music listening to vinyl and cassettes in the 70s - usually played through cheap systems and Walkman headphones. MP3s sound a lot better.
So there!
Should you be interested, my music is available in high-quality at ianmcnabb.bandcamp.com
You can chose your format.
IX
I don't own a turntable anymore, and sometimes that makes me sad. I love the warmth of vinyl, the crackles, dropping the stylus into the groove and waiting for the music to start. It reminds me of being a boy, of my first adventures in record collecting, of my early days in radio, cueing up 7" singles on pre-fade (and trying to remember to make sure I have the fader down... there's nothing more embarrassing that cueing up a song over the top of the one that's playing out live on air).
But I don't own a turntable any more, and I don't have any vinyl. I had to make a choice about ten, twelve years ago, and if I was still going to have a record collection (rather than just going all-digital, as many people have), CD was the only option that made sense. They take up less room, they're a lot cheaper than vinyl (both new and second hand), and the romantic notion of having the time (or the space) to sit down and listen to an LP in the old-fashioned way... well, it wasn't happening any more and the chances of it happening again in the foreseeable future were negligible.
Most of my listening is done in the car on my way to and from work (that's at least two hours a day right there) or late at night as I'm drifting off to sleep. That music comes from memory stick, burned CD compilations and streaming. If I'm at home alone, I will occasionally still pull a CD off the shelf and give it a spin in the way god intended, but the majority of CDs on my shelves have not seen the inside of a CD player in ten, twenty, thirty years... you might ask why I bother to collect them then, and I'm not sure I really have an answer for that. You either get it or you don't.
Those of you who still have big vinyl collections... well, I am jealous, but I've made peace with my decision. Still, I found Ian McNabb's post heartening, that in his eyes at least, I'm not some musically-challenged second class citizen. Maybe in my retirement years, I'll but myself a cheap second hand turntable and dabble in the delights of vinyl again. I must be prepared to dream...
If ever anyone calls me a "glass half empty kind of guy", I usually respond that the glass has been dry for years and is currently shattered into a million pieces that lacerate my feet whenever I cross the kitchen floor.
Being a grumpy old git, and playing on it, has been my default setting since I was a teenager. It usually raises a laugh, and then I get the social validation that comes from people reacting in a positive way to something I've said. Don't look at me like that, we all know that's how it works - you get a smile or a laugh from a friend, a colleague, or even a total stranger, and you get that little dopamine hit that keeps you going.
But as part of my Cynical Self-Help Programme, I'm challenging everything now. And I've started to wonder if playing this part all these years has been a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Well, d'oh.
My mental state is all a-jumble I sit around and sadly mumble Fools rush in, so here I am Very glad to be unhappy I can't win, but here I am More than glad to be unhappy
The question is, can I still get the same response from others by being a happy person? I mean, as we all know, there's nothing more annoying than... well...
When I started this series, I toyed with the idea of calling it Positive Thinking For Negative Bastards. How do you turn that frown upside down... without being the kind of person who says things like "Turn that frown upside down"? Because you know how annoying those people are.
I'm sorry for all of my insecurities, but they're just a part of me "Envy is thin because it bites but never eats" That's what a nice old Spanish lady once told me "Hey Debbie-Downer, turn that frown upside down and just be happy"
But what are you doing here right now, yiu hypocrite?
Oh look, there's the voice of my intrusive thoughts again. I'm going to call him Ian. Ian Trusive. I think it's important we acknowledge him when he has something to say.
Patronising git. Isn't the very act of blogging about this subject preachy? Come read Rol's great sermon on how to be a better man?
"Oh woe is me, and just listen to how smug and sanctimonious I am about it..."
Maybe so, Ian. But I'm not writing this series for anybody other than myself. It's nice if people do read and occasionally leave a comment (all hail the dopamine hits!), but that's not why I'm writing it.
At the end of his album Peace Queer, Todd Snider talks about how some people have accused him of getting more and more opinionated in his songs. He replies with a line I'm going to steal, because it perfectly sums up this series...
I did not do this to change your mind about anything I did this to ease my own mind about everything
Whether the glass is half empty or half full is only a matter of perception. And like a lot of the things we think, it's a matter of choice. I'm trying to choose the other path - and if Ian and his pals consider that the high road, well fair enough. I'll still be in Scotland before him...
I heard enough of the white man's blues I've sang enough about myself So if you're looking for some bad news You can find it somewhere else
Last year was a son of a bitch For nearly everyone we know But I ain't fighting with you down in a ditch I'll meet you up here on the road
Country must be the second most self-referential genre in
all of popular music. Only rap likes to talk about itself and name-drop other
noteworthy practitioners of the artform more than country… the difference being
that such references are largely positive in country, whereas rappers do like
to slag each other off any chance they get.
With that in mind, I’m not going to pretend to have listened
to every song that mentions Loretta Lynn in passing. She was a legend, and an
inspiration, so it’s only right she be immortalised in many, many tunes.
Here are just a handful… and they're not all straight down the line country songs either.
I ain’t a coal miner’s daughter But I’ve sung it all my life I ain’t been a widow But I’ve been an ex-wife And I hear your truth And I feel your pain Now I know why you sang that way
Like any other would be country singing sensation I had no visible means of transportation One Saturday morning I was searching the ads When I found one that I wanted and I wanted it bad I called up the salesmen, he said, c'mon in I've got the Lincoln right here belonged to Loretta Lynn The Coal Miner's Daughter used to drive it to town It's yours for a song and five hundred down
Don't you think it's time we put a woman in the White House With a whole new attitude? Just look at the mess we're in Heck, I'd vote for Loretta Lynn I guarantee that we'd all be Singing a different song
I am leaving Mississippi in the evening rain These Delta towns wear satin gowns In a high beamed frame Loretta Lynn guides my hands through the radio Where would I be in times like these Without the songs Loretta wrote?
Sittin' in the kitchen, a house in Macon Loretta's singing on the radio Smell of coffee, eggs, and bacon Car wheels on a gravel road
As I said at the top, I could be here all day. Perhaps only
Hank Williams and Johnny Cash get name-checked in more country songs than
Loretta. And here she is with Johnny, in one of my favourites.
When Loretta Lynn goes dancing With the ghost of Johnny Cash Father Time takes forever And to make it look like less than lightning flash Violins bow into fiddles Two iconic symbols crash When Loretta Lynn goes dancing With the ghost of Johnny Cash
It's exactly two months since I turned 50, and because I went into a lying in a dark room sulk for a couple of weeks straight after, I never posted my 50th birthday presents. Here they are, for posterity; photo taken in our cliff-top retreat. The Brit-Pop Top Trumps were from Ben. I was thinking of doing a series based around them, but I'd rather just fill this blog up with more existential whinging.
Here's another Grumpy Old Man who has featured here before, and will no doubt do so again. Todd Snider is the gift that keeps on giving, like The Dude if he'd followed Creedence's example and spent less time bowling and more time writing songs.
So many great lines in this song, I'm tempted to quote them all. Or you could just listen to it and discover them for yourselves. I'm not going to spoon-feed you!
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!
There's a new dating show on TV this week in which couples act out erotic scenes from big hit films as a way of auditioning prospective partners. And another one where they choose a mate based on their karaoke voices alone. I presume these are a follow up to the one where people stare intently at the naked bodies of potential soulmates (but not their faces) before deciding the best one to go home with. You may prefer to swipe left on both. It's hardly Cilla, is it?
These kind of things make me feel very old. And yet, curiously, rather glad to be very old. I mean, who would want to be a young person trying to navigate the sexual quagmire that is the dating world in the 21st Century? A world where people can dress in as blatantly sexual a manner as they choose, and yet expressing a romantic interest in the wrong person could end you up in hot water?
It was so much easier in the good old days, when folk just went to bars to pull. Not that I ever did that. Not that I ever pulled anyone, anywhere, to be honest. But much as it seemed a pipe dream back then, it did at least seem a more realistic prospect than what goes on nowadays. Old man shouts at sea.
There is a sub-genre of music (mostly country or Americana, though I'm sure it crosses over into other genres - there's probably half a dozen Arab Strap songs that deal with it) about hooking up with people in bars. Take Todd Snider & Loretta Lynn's Don't Tempt Me for a start...
Or Charity Chic's favourite, Parallel Bars, by Robbie Fulks and Kelly Willis (although there is a twist of Pina Colada to that one)...
My favourite at the moment comes from Hayes Carll, from the amazing KMAG YOYO album (look up the meaning behind that title title: I wanted to do a Top Ten Acronym Songs just to make that track Number One... but I couldn't come up with any others).
Here's Hayes, alongside Cary Ann Hearst, showing how opposites really can attract... if you're pissed.
(I find the video a little distracting, to be honest. I'd recommend closing your eyes and concentrating on the lyrics. But not as a method of choosing a date.)
It's interesting for her that it's all about showing off in her mind. And the reason she prefers digital is so that people can't scoff. What a load of horseshit. There's the whole aspect of having something tangible to hold and appreciate it with. Regardless, the sound purity is only one aspect and not the whole thing. It's the same with comics, there's something about completing a certain set and being able to thumb through what you have pride in and enjoy. Isn't that the same for any collecting hobby as well? Stamps, Pokémon cards etc etc etc.
Also, that argument about Adele and Ed Sheeran doing it, it's more just seen as a piece of merch that's easily purchased for the sort of people who are fans of bands like that.
I think the most concerning thing is the way that she's clearly shitting all over something that her partner loves.
Mrs. Ben doesn't get the comics collecting thing but doesn't feel the need to slag it off.
I just feel really bad for her partner.
Yeah. It's also telling that she completely ignores the fact that streaming alone pays the artists fuck all. Her gloating about having her digital only playlists shows she thinks music should be a free commodity, which is a very modern perspective, but ultimately screws the artists. I got some money for Christmas and spent most of it buying my favourite albums from last year that I'd only listened to online. Partly that was about owning the disc, but also it was about giving something back to the people who'd made music I hadn't until that point paid for.
And that's the thing that people who don't actually like music think. By that I mean, they can love Sheeran, Adele, ABBA and her 80s cheese that she feels looked down on for, but they don't get that when you get away from the chart stuff, the artists aren't making them just to fulfill a third album of a multimillion pound contract but to genuinely believe in something and it's not the best paying job. E.g. Jeff Rosenstock took until his second solo album (after 15 years of playing in bands) to be able to afford to pay his rent with selling music.
Like you said with buying it, I do that with the comics and when I go to live gigs, if I like the support acts, even a little, I always buy a record and some other merch like a t-shirt, tote or shirt to support them. I have about 12 band totes that will never get used but I bought them to support an artist.
Yeah, it's even more important for smaller artists.
Also, in 35 years of record collecting, nobody has ever shown any interest in my shelves. No one has ever come to my house and looked through my record collection. Admittedly, I have very few visitors, and these days they're mostly Louise's friends, but still... this dinner party bragging thing strikes me as a very London media / Nathan Barley idea. I'm not sure that ever happens in the real world.
I mean, my friends go through to put something on when they're here or take a look after a drink and either ask what an album is like or to tell me what they think of it.
That's it.
Not a pissing contest.
Then again, as much as I love music, I've never been a muso. There's probably more uncool CDs in my collection than cool. They're only cool to me.
That's it though, isn't it? It's personal and collecting is a personal endeavour.
I'm sure there are people who buy what they perceive to be cool records, to show off their cred, like those people who lined up their most intellectual books on the shelf behind them when appearing on TV during lockdown.o
But surely they're in the minority?
And I say that as a complete misanthrope.
(That errant .o was a typo, by the way, not an attempt at an emoticon.)
In case you were wondering.
I gathered.
Yeah I don't get that. I did it at 18 to show that I'd read Brothers Karamazov etc. But surely you get to a point when you become secure enough in your own self to not need to prove a point,
I have two Billy book cases in my office. One is full of comics, the other full of workbooks which by their nature are smart ones. But the comic book bookcase is the one behind me on camera.
I used a bowling alley background while teaching from home. It was a still from The Big Lebowski, but that was purely for my amusement. Nobody ever recognised it.
When we do interviews for research we have to use a background. Give the participants no idea about us.
So I use the blue sky one.
Because the sky's the limit and you encourage blue sky thinking?
Nah. Just so it lacks personality.
Balloons seem too fun. Office seems too dull.
Something inoffensive and impotent.
Dungeon?
Some of the issues that come up in my work... that's probably a bad idea.
Fair enough. More appropriate for The Bad Place anyway.
You backed down from that joke pretty quick.
New Year's Resolution: be more woke.
Better quality coffee?
How's it feel to be going back to work this week and not dreading it for the past few days?
This record is funky, it's funny, it's a laid back wonder. And it's been on my playlist since March... with no sign of tiring. Handsome John would be proud...
The isolation period has ended, and we all survived. I may share with you my covid diary at some point, or I may choose to let the whole sorry affair sink into obscurity. Thank you for your good wishes anyway.
Meanwhile, here's Todd Snider, a veteran of the Grumpy Old Man Songbook, mixing a little funky soul in with his usual cynical Americana vibe to terrific effect on his latest album, First Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder. He's always been a master of the talky song too, and here he takes on the character of the titular agnostic preacher to hilarious effect...
Mainly though,
Everybody just wants to succeed at everything they try,
Live forever and never die.
That's it in a nutshell, really
Succeed at everything we try,
Live forever and never die.
That's the thing everyone agrees on.
Stick around for the last line, it's worth the wait.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the excellent Fallover 24, with their superb tune, Pessimistic Man. What finer tune could there be to issue in another bumper edition of our countdown?
Bumper being the operative word, let's crack on with your suggestions and see if anyone guessed my "obvious" 24...
First out of the gates this week was Charity Chic, certain that he'd backed the odds on favourite...
I'll save everyone the bother this week as there can only be one winner.
It may please you all to know that they were the first three on my list. Which isn't in any order other the order I think of them or find them on my hard drive.
Jim in Dubai also reminded us of the Yachts' cover of 24 Hours From Tulsa, which featured on this blog just a few weeks back.
Martin then returned to point out that there are "shed load of different songs called "24 Hours", so take your pick from (amongst others)..."
Jim also suggested the band at the top of the page, and Twenty 4 Seven - I Can't Stand It which brings back the true horror of the charts in my teenage years. Thanks for that, Jim. I haven't slept for a week.
Now, last week, those of you who were paying attention will have notice a new rule which was imposed upon this quiz as we get nearer #1. A new rule which will henceforth be known as "The Lime Green Rule"...
Oh, one final thing. Unless they're amazing suggestions, I'm going to stop allowing lyrical 24s (and so on) as we get nearer number one. Let's face it, there are way too many. So you'll have to be really persuasive if you want to sell me on a lyrical reference from now on. Sorry.
First to fall foul of this rule was Lynchie (who did later realise his mistake) when he suggested...
'Cause for twenty-four years I've been living next door to Alice
The thing is, I really like this song. However, it has been forever tarnished in my mind by the band re-recording it with Roy Chubby Brown as (Who The Fuck Is) Alice? Which is right up there in my mind with Lindisfarne's Fog On The Tyne featuring Gazza. I'm not linking to either of those debacles though, no matter how much it upsets George, who appears to be a fan.
George did redeem himself with his next idea though...
Someone else who ignored the Lime Green rule was Rigid Digit, but fortunately both his real suggestions have featured previously back in week #36, so go find them there. In desperation he adds...
...or, how anything by Status Quo - lifted from 12 Gold Bars Vol I and Vol II
(2 lots of 12 are 24 - is that the sound of a barrel being scraped?)
Definitely. However, just to keep you and Jez happy...
Next up was Douglas, limiting his own suggestions this week...
Firstly, Lana Del Rey's song "24" is actually quite lovely in her fragile sad kind of way. I know there is a lot of feeling that she went off the rails after the stellar Born to Die album, with her quest for fame and newfound penchant for explicit lyrics, but this one is back to form, I think. Sounds a bit like she's auditioning for a Bond film end-credits theme.
That one wasn't. But at least it's from the Syd era.
And I know it breaks your No lyrics" rule but sure the "Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go...I wanna be sedated" lyric is so iconic and so close to being in the title that an exception could be made...?
That was also on the list. But not the winner, as Douglas himself guessed.
I feel these are getting less and less "obvious", though some are decent enough songs. But what is left? I think we are all going on strike if it turns out to be the awful Bruno Mars song I came across in my digging that I won't even mention by name...
I had no idea of the track Douglas was referring to, so I had to go investigate.
All of which leads us back to Nigel Blackwell, who's having a bit of trouble down at the 24 Hour Garage. (Presumably this was soon after visiting Argos to record this: Half Man Half Biscuit - £24.99 from Argos.)
Take it away, Nige... start doing what you can to wind up that guy behind the counter!
I’ll have ten Kit Kats and a motoring atlas
Ten Kit Kats and a motoring atlas
And a blues CD on the Hallmark label
– that’s sure to be good
Far fewer 23s to choose from, but the Lime Green Rule still applies. Let's see what you can come up with...
...then a show called "The Apprentice" came on and pretty soon
An old man with a comb-over had sold us the moon
And we stayed tuned in, now here we are
Reality killed by a reality star
11. The Lemonheads - Varshons II
The laziest man in rock (TM) finds his way into a recording studio for the first time in ten years and churns out another effortless & eclectic set of covers that prove he's still got it... he just doesn't use it that often.
You don't have to wait on Hank if you want to raise your glass
You don't have to wait on Cash if you're just here to get trashed
You don't have to wait on Nelson if you're trying to raise some hell, son
You don't have to wait on Cline if you just want some more wine
9. Mattiel - Satis Factory
Gotta hand this one to Rigid Digit; I wouldn't have discovered it without him raving about it.
Dusty Springfield, Debbie Harry, Amy Winehouse, Aretha Franklin, Patti Smith, Chrissie Hynde, Diana Ross, Nico, Courtney Barnett... you can hear them all in this record, yet every track is distinctly Mattiel. Quite an accomplishment.
And it's the expectation, making or breaking, giving me a heart attack
And in twenty years time will it all be mine
Or will I wish that I could take it all back?
(This tune even steals a bit of a Wrecking Ball era Springsteen.)
Another Americana star who looks (and sounds) as though he's fallen off the hay-truck today, and a long time favourite of mine: Todd Snider. Todd's dipped off my radar are a little over the past few years but this latest record is being touted as a back-to-basics return-to-form (he even went to record it in Johnny Cash's cabin to give it that authentic folksy feel).
Here Snider proves once again that there's no finer contemporary proponent of the talkin' blues (unless you know different - Dan Bern can do it pretty well too), tracing everything that's wrong with America (and the world) today back to that silly little box in the corner of your living room...
45s. For most of us, our entry into record collecting. Long gone now, except as collector's items and special editions. But there was something very special about the 45. If you were going to go to the effort to put one song on the turntable, then you were damn well going to give that song your attention. That's something today's youth has lost, and I'd argue the songs they cherish might never mean as much to them because of that loss.
Alyson was the only one of you brave enough to mention former Golden Earring member Jaap Eggermont's Stars On 45 by name...
...although Charity Chic went one worse by reminding us of Rotherham's answer to Stars On 45... Jive Bunny! Let's hope that's the last time they ever get mentioned on this blog.
A slightly more worthy suggestion came from The Swede, in honour of Jez...
And then came Martin, who's obviously now using the same lyrics search engine I do, because he almost filled up the entire comment's box with this lot...
Gomez's "Bubble Gum Years" Whiskey bottle and a 45, my dear Fountains of Wayne: "Number 45 Sunblock"(I'm not sure if Martin actually listened to that one - but it's not a real song.) Neil Sedaka and "Our Last Song Together": Scratchy worn out 45's, an echo on the radio The Hollies, "Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress": A pair of 45s made me open my eyes Blondie's "Bermuda Triangle Blues" begins Flight 45, last seen alive on the runway
Elbow's "Jesus is a Rochdale Girl" has Jesus is a Rochdale girl, and 45 CDs Meatloaf and "Rock and Roll Hero": Stacks of scratched up 45's and taught myself how to sing Barry bleedin' Manilow (!) and "The Old Songs" includes if all those plans I made don't melt the lady's heart, I'll put on the old 45's (Oy! Less of the 'bleeding'!)
Saint Etienne's "Home": Life seems so good, they're like the 45's when I dream I'm dreaming of you" (Can't find that anywhere on youtube.)
Bill Haley (and many others) and "Peppermint Twist": Well, meet me baby down at 45th Street, where the Peppermint Twisters meet" (Couldn't find that anywhere either so I linked to the version by Joey Dee & The Starliters.)
Repeat offenders Saint Etienne with "Teenage Winter": They'll never buy a Gibb Brothers record again, their old 45s gathering dust (Possibly my favourite SE song, that.)
Aussie proggers The Church and "The Time Being" includes I use a .45 to give them some stick
I'm going to stop there, I think. I'm getting obsessed.
Van Morrison - "Wild Children" opens with
"We were the War Children
Born 1945
When all the soldiers came marching home
Love looks in their eye..."
and FINALLY!
Mary Chapin Carpenter - "John Doe No. 24" (a beautiful song) starts with
"I was standing on this sidewalk
In 1945 in Jacksonville, Illinois
When asked what my name was there came no reply..."
Now, you may have noticed I've missed out some of your suggestions there. That's because, two years ago, on the event of my 45th birthday, I actually compiled My Top Ten 45 Songs. And here they are...
In 1989, when I started my full-time (unpaid) job in radio, the music business was going through a period of great change. Compact discs had been around for a few years but they had ceased to be a novelty or a fad. The record industry was doing its level best to sell music fans their old record collections back to them on shiny silver discs, and for the most part we were going along with them.
My first experience of driving the on-air desk in Studio A came when I was offered the chance to do Music Mix - a one hour "no talk" segue between the mid-morning / lunchtime show, which ended at 2, and the drive-time show, which began at three. It was back-to-back music, with ads, but it was good practice for a wannabe-DJ to learn the desk without also having to worry about talking and making a fool of himself. I can clearly remember that shift - the anxiety of being alone in the studio with the power of the desk at my command. The awesome responsibility of it. The terrifying fear of dead air, of pressing the wrong button, of cueing up a record with the fader open...
Yeah, I did that one a few times. If you've never been near a radio desk, you won't know about pre-fade, the button that allows you to listen to a channel that isn't live off-air, and prepare the audio on that channel for broadcast with the fader down. Leave the fader up, though... and wikky-wikky-wikky.
Wikky wikky wikky. The sound of a vinyl disc being cued. When I started, the majority of the music played on that station was still on vinyl. But CD was taking over. The playlist box in the studio contained (in most cases) both the 7" and the CD single of the latest chart hits. It was the presenter's choice which they played. As time went on, the number of 7 inches in that box quickly depleted. Eventually it was just full of CDs.
The migration from vinyl to CD, however, gave me my first job. The record library, when I arrived, was in chaos. There had been sporadic attempts to catalogue it in the past, but now the shelves were full of hundreds of old vinyl records and an increasing number of those funky new CDs... and nobody could find anything. This was still in the days of presenter choice when it came to the music played (with a few little rules to guide the jocks), but the lazy ones had taken to just grabbing a handful of Now albums and making do with those each day. Organisation was required to liberate all that glorious, forgotten old music..., and that was my task.
Every day then, when I wasn't given anything else to do, I settled down at the desk in that poky, dusty, dingy, magical old record library... with just a stack of index cards and a biro... numbering and stickering the albums and CDs, giving anyone who cared to look clear instructions where to find even the most obscure old pop song... by writing down long lists of song titles.
If you ever wondered why I write this blog... why I compile obscure Top Tens featuring the most eclectic and muso-irking selection of music... why I'm sat here hunched over a computer at 10pm on a Tuesday evening after a hard day at work when I could be relaxing in from of the TV... I think you just found your answer.
You never forget your first love, and for me, mine was that old record library.
There are only two types of story, at least if you go by Shakespeare: comedies and tragedies.
Actually, some argue there's a third: histories, but they tend to be one of the former in disguise. Actually ii: if you study writing as much as I did in my misspent youth, you'll find there are many different numbers given to how many basic stories there are: 7, 10, twenty-something... but, as usual, I digress. Let's just stick with two for today, shall we?
Americana is one genre of music where storytelling is all-important and one of its foremost practitioners is the great Todd Snider, an artist who was introduced to me by the DJ Bob Harris. Many other favourite artists found their way into my record collection via Whispering Bob, so I was very sad to see his late Saturday night Radio 2 show end last week after 20 years. It appears to have been his decision to quit (he's still presenting his country show on the network) but I'm sure a large part of his decision will be down to the way Radio 2 have messed him around over recent years. He'll leave a big gap in my record collection... I even thought of doing a Top Ten Artists I Discovered Through Bob Harris... but then I decided no one else would be interested (not that that's ever stopped me before).
Anyway, back to Todd Snider, the storyteller. I'm showcasing two Todd story songs today, one a comedy (that really does make me chuckle), one a serious tragedy. You'll have to listen to them to find out which is which. Go on, I'm not going to do all the work for you...
10. Todd Snider - You Think You Know Somebody / Talkin' Seattle Grunge Rock Blues
Yes. But it is a number I have both dreaded and looked forward to. Dreaded for all the obvious reasons (I am drowning in mid-life crisis angst, but you don't want to know about that); looked forward to because I knew it would give me the chance to write this post. And also because, obviously, it's cool to have revolved around the sun as many times as a 7 inch single spins in a minute. Not that I own any 7 inch singles any more, nor a turntable to spin them on. Sigh...
A few years back, JC, The Vinyl Villain, one of my blogging heroes, marked his own 45th birthday with an epic selection of his 45 favourites 45s. I knew I couldn't compete with that. As should have become painfully obvious by now, I can only count to ten. And so, here are ten songs that focus on the number 45. Special thanks to John Medd for posting about the sleeve of the first Generation X single from 1977 (above). I'd never seen it before, but it was just the image I needed for this post.
Oh, and just for JC: here's Orange Juice with Blokes On 45 to start us off... (Sorry it didn't make the ten, JC - I love Edwyn, but this isn't one of his strongest efforts, despite the cool title.)
Well, that's a nice way to start, isn't it? Thanks for the kind words on my birthday, Babybird.
Still, as this song appears to be Stephen Jones' love song to C-O-C-A C-O-L-A, maybe if he didn't drink so much of that, he wouldn't have to worry about his weight. I mean, come on, Stephen - sugar is the hidden killer for men our age...*
(*Says the man who consumed a whole bag of Bitsa Wipsa with his coffee yesterday.)
Here's one that came from the blogosphere... I've no idea when or where, and google won't tell me anything else about the artist. Cool song though.
And while we're on the subject of 45s and books, I should drop a mention to Deacon Blue here... although they were only interested in paperbacks (with torn out pages).
Readers' Wives, on the other hand, are a band I do know something about. A few years back, at the height of my previous blog's popularity, the band sent me a copy of their album to review. I loved it and we got chatting. At the same time I was also writing a few comics so I sent them some copies of those. For a while, we talked about me writing a comic about their band. It never really got off the ground and the band have now split up, though lead singer Niall James Holohan is still recording and perfoming... I must check out what he's doing these days.
Another one that was gifted to me by the blogosphere many moons ago... so I'm gifting it back. A lovely little tune by a band stuck on my wants list for far too long now. I must track down some more of their stuff.
I've got two boxes Paved with rockets Where all my best friends sit When they smile, I take their jackets And give them a spin...
Oh. You split up. Never mind. It was good while it lasted.
You want to hang out Talk about music You play that record Over and over Judging by my tastes I would really like it And you would lend it to me
Tell me you met them Not in a fan way Said they were nice guys Not too pretentious You knew them for ages Before they were famous And how they hadn't changed...
But I don't care what you say I liked them first anyway...
Written and recorded in 2001 when Elvis was going through the same terrible thing I'm going through now. It's his autobiography in 7". Brilliant.
I could quote the whole song, but here's a few selected highlights...
Every scratch, every click, every heartbeat Every breath that I held for you Forty five
Bass and treble heal every hurt There's a rebel in a nylon shirt But the words are a mystery, I've heard 'Til you turn it down to thirty three and a third 'Cause it helps with the elocution Corporations turn revolutions Forty five
Bells are chiming and tears are falling It creeps up on you without a warning Forty five
I heard something peculiar said: "Perhaps he's got a shot and now he's dead" Forty five
Sorry, can't stick around to chat. Have to go and "celebrate" encroaching middle age...
