Tag Archives: Music

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Brian Wilson had it back in the 80’s.

Missing verse from the above in this live version;

I was praying to a God who just doesn’t seem to hear,
Oh, the blessings we need the most are what we all fear,
Love and mercy that’s what you need tonight,
Love and mercy to you and your friends tonight,
Love and mercy that’s what we all need tonight,
Love and mercy to you and your friends tonight,

Yet another Cusack movie worth watching.

Have a good weekend.

A small epiphany…

We’ve been watching a few John Cusack movies of late on NetFlix. The Numbers Station is a good one, gritty, suspenseful, and Cusack as an actor is always good value for money. Last nights little enlightening came from High Fidelity where the lead character does one of the movies quirky, direct to camera observations about all the misery that life can inflict on people.

“What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?”


Good question. Answers on a postcard, or not.

Working class hero

New year in a couple of hours. At least in this time zone – it’s already New years day in Oz. There’s also a curious sense of change in the wind. Although maybe not the ‘change’ those on the big government side were hoping for to keep them in their cosy sinecures. Or the ones Lennon hoped for. He forgot that class is a veneer, an illusion, which can be altered by anyone with a minor talent and will to change. It’s the secret of self made people all over the planet. Want to be working class? Dead easy; take on an accent, move to a new town, slip into that way of life and you’re there. Want to be upper class? More difficult as the credentials are harder to fake. Ask any con man. Better to be (the toughest option by far) your own person. Besides, the notion of class is merely a hangover from feudal times. You don’t have to be in any class if you don’t want to.

As far as this blog is concerned, I’m going to put a few things together and post them, just for fun. See what happens when lightning strikes. (Igor! Throw the switch! Not at me! You just can’t get the henchmen nowadays, I blame the media.) I’m sick of bitching about the ‘do as I tell you’ brigade. Fuck ’em. They don’t listen anyway, so I’ll be returning the compliment. Apart from sticking my oar in on the occasional blog post or lamestream comment thread. So, no change there then.

In future, I’ll be focusing a little more on the humorous, satirical, scatological and sarcastic. That and perfecting my Martini mixing technique. I’m developing quite the taste for them.

TTFN. See you next year.

Childhoods end

Lynsey De Paul dead? Heavy, and above all wistful sigh. That is so sweetly sad, but then that was what I recall of her music. Always left me with a feeling of unrequited longing after dance floor forays. So often the last but one song of the night. Slow dance and, well, whatever before would-be lovers drifted off into the night.

Hey ho. The early 70’s were more innocent times. Lynsey was part of that. I will remember her music with fondness.

How stuff works, a song

Oh Grandpa’s a wealthy land owner
And Uncle makes windmills that spin
My Aunty she sells Carbon Credits
My God, how the money rolls in!

(Chorus:) Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in, rolls in!
Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in!

Oh Daddy’s a Parliamentarian
Raising tax on the singlemost whim
Every night he’s out schmoozing accountants
My God, how the money rolls in!

(Chorus:) Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in, rolls in!
Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in!

Oh Brother he works out in Brussels
Saving gorgeous Hungarians from sin
He’ll save you a blonde for ten Euros
My God, how the money rolls in!

(Chorus:) Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in, rolls in!
Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in!

My Mother’s a Harley Street Doctor
Gives pills to the famed with a Gin.
She owns a renowned rehab clinic.
My God, how the money rolls in!

(Chorus:) Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in, rolls in!
Rolls in, rolls in, my God, how the money rolls in!

*Sung to the tune of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean”

An old satellite and a song

Today is the 50th Anniversary of Telstar, the first proper TV relay satellite. This song is also from that time. As is the one below. Slightly weird, but fun. In a geeky sort of way.

Elder sibling bought a copy, or had it bought for him, and I found it in his old record collection. Honest guv. I used to play it on his old record deck, a mahogany cased monster of a thing. Good grief, the memories flood back. 405 line TV sets (The ones you had to hit to get a half decent picture), hiding behind the sofa during Doctor Who (William Hartnell era), and when Ford Zodiac Mark II’s were thought to be the bees articular interfaces.