As George and Ernie are both out on manoeuvres, and because last week's bumper edition nearly finished me off, we're having a rest from Namesakes this week. All being well, it will return to bore you next Tuesday.
At the weekend, Louise and I went to see the new stage adaptation of To Kill A Mockingbird. It was excellent. I've long been a fan of Aaron Sorkin's sparky, snappy dialogue, and he found some excellent ways to use the themes of the novel to say important (if ultimately futile) things about the state of America today. If it comes to your neck of the woods, I'd highly recommend going along to see it.
Here are some tunes related, in one way or another, to Harper Lee's famous novel...
9. "Right! Well, don't say I haven't warned you! I've laid it on the line for you time and time again! Right! So, this is it! I'm gonna give you a damn good thrashing!"
Banned by the BBC because of the repeated line "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me". Bruno Brookes then "accidentally" played the whole thing on the chart show. And in November 2008, it was "accidentally" played to shoppers in an Asda supermarket in Preston. Asda apologised.
8. Hooligan deflowers Tokyo... that's very disturbed!
This is Mike Skinner. Mike's looking rather sad because he's lost his camera. Still, he seemed like the ideal person to introduce today's answers... twelve songs about Streets... whatever we might call them.
Oh, and in case you were wondering why Clint Eastwood appeared here yesterday... well, he was The Man With No Name. And I'm sure you all remember what Bono told us?
In my past two Self Help For Cynics posts, I've
looked at how the brain uses stories to build neural pathways. This can be a
positive thing in that it helps us learn knowledge, skills and how to survive…
but it can also be negative if the stories we use to learn end up reinforcing
bad habits, unpleasant ideas or defeatist emotions. Last time, I explained how a nasty
teenage experience had created neural pathways in my head that made me hate New
Order. However, just the act of writing about that experience has honestly
lessened the animosity I feel towards a band that’s never done me any harm.
There are two explanations for this. Firstly, understanding why we think the
way we do is the first step towards changing the way we think. (That’s the main
reason I’m writing this series.) Secondly, you can overwrite bad neural
pathways with good ones by replacing negative experiences (stories) with
positive ones. Here’s another example from my terrible teens…
Chumbawamba - Homophobia Was I a homophobic teenager? I grew up in the 1970s and 80s. Positive representations of gay people
in the media were limited to Larry Grayson and Mr. Humphries from Are You Being
Served? Camp, limp-wristed caricatures. In the pop world, we had the Village
People and then Boy George. Many less stereotypically gay stars like
Elton John and George Michael kept their secrets for a long time. Even
Freddie Mercury – one of my teenage pop heroes – refused to confirm his
sexuality, right up to the point he told us he was dying of AIDS. Tom Robinson
might have proclaimed himself glad to be gay in 1978, but I certainly didn’t
hear about it.
Far worse than the clichéd media portrayal of homosexuality was the strong
undercurrent of homophobia fostered by straight male society. “Backs against
the wall, lads”, “shirtlifters”, “poofters”… these were phrases I heard on a
weekly basis from my peers, my elders… even on TV. Add to this that the only
openly gay person in my school was a bitchy viper of a boy (probably a defence
mechanism, and I can hardly blame him for that)… well, you can see how my
storytelling brain was busy building negative neural pathways throughout my early
adolescence.
Pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy
You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down
Things did start to change in the mid 80s, with more openly gay
celebrities, and alternative music and comedy which celebrated LGBT culture. It
was at this point when I finally started to question the prejudice I’d been a
part of in my early years of high school. But it wasn’t till I started working
in radio, at 16, that the stories in my brain were completely rewritten. At the
radio station I worked at, there were a lot of openly gay men. And as I got
to know them, I liked them. Often more than I liked some of my more hetero,
alpha male type colleagues. Some became lifelong friends and so my storytelling
brain was forced to write new, stronger neural pathways that cancelled out my
old prejudicial ones.
Spearmint - Your New Gay Friend All this just reinforces the value of positive representation in the
media, in my mind at least. The anti-woke brigade rail against the fact that
every TV show these days has to feature a variety of sexualities, skin colours,
genders and differently-abled individuals. But only through frequent exposure
to people who are not the same as ourselves will our brains stop fearing these
unknown beings who are actually just like us, for good and bad. This all seems
a bit obvious to me, to the point where I’m not sure I needed to write it…
certainly not for the open-minded folk who read this blog. I’m preaching to the
converted.
Those that are harder to convert – the ones who turn off their TVs
whenever they see a gay kiss, for example – maybe they’re beyond help. And
there are certainly plenty of storytelling options available to them
(particularly online) which feed and reinforce their own negative neural
pathways. We’re a long way from a utopia.
As to the Audi drivers… I keep hoping one day I’ll have a positive
experience that allows me to rewrite the neural pathway prejudice I feel
towards them. They can’t all be bad…?
Before the Red Weed of McDonalds conquered the world, if we fancied a quick burger, we all headed out to our local Wimpy Bar. Back in the 80s, Wimpy was pretty much your only option for fast food in the UK, beyond more traditional fare such as fish and chips or pie and peas. In the 90s, many Wimpys were transformed into Burger Kings (same parent company), though Huddersfield still has an actual original Wimpy, in the same place it was when I was a kid. I have to confess I haven't been in there for 40-odd years, but if you held a gun to my head, I'd choose it over the golden arches or a flame-grilled Whopper, if only for nostalgia's sake.
The word "Wimpy" appears in thousands of songs, mostly as a pejorative that has nothing to do with the burger chain. I listened to them all, just in case. Here are a few songs that did have a more direct connection, starting with the lesser-known titular mentions...
And now, especially for George, some vintage Genesis prog-bollocks...
Citizens of Hope and Glory Time goes by, it's the time of your life Easy now, sit you down Chewing through your Wimpy dreams They eat without a sound Digesting England by the pound
Back in the 80s, Ralph Rabie was a South African singer songwriter who used the stage-name Johannes Kerkorrel to protest against Apartheid. His song Hillbrow became a big hit in Belgium and The Netherlands. Proving that Wimpy Bars had, at one point at least, taken over the world...
Actually, The Wimpy Bar started out in the good old US of A. However, the only American singer I can find who mentions them is the amazing Mr. Byrne, although he's referring to J Wellington Wimpy, Popeye's cartoon friend who inspired the name of the Wimpy Bar.
(Sadly, in the TV version that's on the tube of you, they appear to have made Tom change the lyrics to "Eat in the chippy", which doesn't make any sense, because you don't eat in the chippy, you buy your food and then go back out into the cold. Stupid BBC.)
My overall take home from today's investigations is that Wimpy's were a crap place to take someone on a date (even if it was cold, Tom). Although clearly nobody told Ian Anderson that...
I have to wonder if Ian's date was Julz Sale from Leeds post-punk band Delta 5. That might explain the little second person rant with which we close today's proceedings: another gem from Cherry Red's tremendous Where Were You? compilation.
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...
Interesting noise. I like it when the bass comes in.
"I also have an album called 27 Passports by The Ex. There is no title track and, as far as I can recall, no lyrical reference to the number 27 on any track, so I'm guessing that this doesn't really count?"
Probably not. But we can hear the full album on that link.
Alyson & C appeared next, not with a song, but a rather more morbid link to The 27 Club, a list of artists who tragically died at that very young age, including...
New to me, that lot, Jim. They don't pass because the 27 is a band not a song (see The Swede's SEctor 27 suggestion above). However, I don't disqualify years anymore. So you could have had this...
He put a spell on some poor little Crutchfield girl
And stayed like that for 27 seven years
As for your third suggestion... we'll come back to that.
Last week I said I was certain I knew what Martin's suggestion would be. But I reckon Martin was too busy preparing for his Land's End to John O'Groats bike ride to make the suggestion. (Wouldn't it be easier to do it the other way round? Surely there's more down-hill if you start in the Highlands?) Here's what I thought you were going to suggest anyway...
The other thing I pondered last week was where our Canadian pal Douglas had got to. Holiday? Sadly not...
"For the record, I have not in fact been on holiday, but rather on strike. I am a teacher in the province of Ontario, Canada, and we are currently in the midst of troubled contract negotiations with the government over quality of education issues, and have been so for a while now, I regret to report.
Much to my surprise and chagrin, I have discovered that standing in a picket line in the midst of a Canadian winter is in fact not much like a holiday at all. The occasional cheery mid-finger salute from passing cars, the cheap coffee roasting on an open fire, the magically diminishing pay-checks as we prepare for the Yuletide season...very festive those.
But as we have gone from province wide strikes to rotating board-by-board strikes as of today, I had a chance to look in, and after being inspired immediately to think of "Never Had No One Ever", I realized that I was, sadly, late to the game, and it had been taken! (So perhaps in the spirit of having a horse in the game for that song, I will bypass the obvious Smith's version (perhaps the fact that a certain singer seems to be persona non grata in some quarters at the moment will mean a second-stringer may get a chance off the bench?) and suggest Billy Bragg's cover?
Other than that, I place my real serious cash down on John Denver's "Rocky Mountain High", which of course opens with some delightfully contradictory lyrics...
And I am going big money on this bet as I am confident I am on to a winner; I did my research once again, and discovered that on a certain 10th of May in 2018, Mr John Denver placed 1st in a Top Ten list with a different song, "Leaving On A Jet Plane", so I am hoping there is a soft spot there for all things Denver.
Now, back to the "job action" (and what a delightful term that is!)."
Firstly, you have my sympathy - and solidarity, Douglas. As a teacher myself - and one constantly under attack - I wish you every success in your action. Even though, realistically, we're all doomed.
As to your suggestions... can I come back to those too?
First, the inevitable trawl through my own hard-drive...
And to be honest, I'm really torn this week. The Queen Is Dead is still my favourite album of the 80s. But Never Had No One ever is probably the bleakest song on there, and do we really need more misery this week?
Rocky Mountain High, meanwhile, is a fine entry from Mr. Denver... but can I really choose it over The Smiths, even in the era of Mozaggedon?
Probably not. But it was closer than you'd think...
Next week - the final letter of the alphabet. #26. Go!
