Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Schmitten Part One: 'The flow of energy was so fine'*


AAhh
* A line from Keep On Tryin' by Poco.

So – a diversion from Opinion8 and the Kinks. Let’s go on the road, tune into FM radio …Links in the song titles as usual.

Watching History of the Eagles documentaries on BBC2 has made me rethink some of my previous opinions.

[These are practically the only programmes I’ve watched on the BBC this year, with the exception of the Scandinavian strand on BBC4. So really I’m paying my licence fee to ensure that the already overpaid BBC staffers can recommend that they all get exorbitant severance packages, over and above those specified in their contracts, because they weren’t chosen for promotion or they made a complete hash of the promotion they were given. £60 million in payouts. ‘It’s been a long time coming but a change is gonna come.’ Scrap the licence fee.]

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always loved the Eagles and nothing’s changed there. I know they don’t use the definite article but I always have and it doesn’t seem right not to. Whatever other stage I’ve gone through in my life musically (and there’ve been some embarrassing ones), they’ve remained the one constant. I could at any time suddenly experience a resurgence of interest and dig out the old vinyl albums to play. They captured the 70s for me, that laidback West Coast vibe that was a thousand miles from my life in 80s London suburbia. In my imagination, I was there. Like Lloyd Cole, I was crazy for Americana, had read Kerouac and Kinsey and thought the US was impossibly romantic

I can recognise most of these songs from the first couple of notes and seeing Joe Walsh sing Pretty Maids had me in tears. That was unexpected. And it was a great programme – might review it later. I love Don Henley’s quote: ‘We set out to become a band for our time but sometimes if you do a good enough job, you become a band for all time’.

The original and I used to think the best
However, I lamented the departure of founding members Bernie Leadon and Randy Meisner and never rated Timothy B. Schmit. I thought him a poor substitute. I’ll leave Don Felder out for the time being – the news that the Eagles are intending to tour again and that an ex-member is planning to return is tantalising. I would love it to be any of these three. Just discovered it’s Bernie. Until now, Bernie was always my favourite Eagle but that’s because I had never appreciated TBS, never given him the time. Still, wouldn't it be brilliant if they played My Man? I live for that.

I didn’t think (then) that TBS added anything to what the band had, dismissed his songs as sappy and sentimental and his voice as weak and insipid. I thought he was a feather-weight thrown in with heavy-weights and there was likely to be a smackdown. Surely the other Eagles would eat him for breakfast? Something sweet they could spread on their toast. But I was wrong. Not too proud to admit it. I don't know why I didn’t see it before, that what he contributes is … ineffable, a quality of calm – all wholesome goodness, a purity of tone, all sweetness and light. Something sensitive and touching and beautiful. And still. It’s like the whole band whirls around him and he’s this gentle, peaceful presence in the midst of the vortex. He doesn’t seem to get rattled, the closest he gets is looking a little fed up in the studio, like a child who’s been told he has to eat his greens.

He looks so happy!
First thing I learned was that he was with the Eagles before they broke up in 1980, for three years. And he looked really cute. I’d previously assumed that he’d only been in the 1994 reunion line-up. 1994 would have been the first chance I had to go see the Eagles but I decided it was too expensive (£40 a ticket). You’re laughing, right? Now it’s at least £100!

Prompted to re-explore Poco who were around three years before the Eagles formed. I used to think of Poco as Eagles-lite, pleasant enough but without the punch of the real thing, without the edge, a soft-focus, diluted version but now I see them differently. There’s a clarity and a feel-good atmosphere to most Poco songs. It’s obvious from the clips on YouTube – wish I’d had this when I was young – then I might have known, albeit after he left them, how incredibly pretty young Timothy was. And I would have had a way of listening to more of their material because what Poco had/maybe still have, or what they communicate, is a palpable joy. It’s evident in the way they play together. That Eagles ‘In Concert’ from 1973 is similar. Makes me wish/yearn that I could go back to that time and be the right age to go to a Poco show. Where’s the Hot Tub Time Machine when you need it?

Assumed the name meant something in Native American but learn that they originally chose Pogo, after some cartoon character and had to change it because someone objected. Well, I’ll stick with my romanticised version.

Totally gratuitous Tim pic
Ok, they weren’t roaring, they were purring. But how lovely. Hearing them, you never doubt that they mean what they’re singing.

Now I see that he’s the perfect addition. He has that high, delicate, pure voice, he plays bass, he writes. Ironic and a little sad that as soon as he joins, he gets to contribute a song, have it chosen as a single and sing the lead himself. So much for feather-weight. Poor Don Felder must have been spitting blood.

Obviously not an alpha male (unlike Frey, Henley and Walsh), not even obviously a male (flowing locks, softly spoken, that girlish, apologetic-sounding talking voice), I suppose his charm and his unassuming humility meant he wasn’t viewed as a threat. And in he came to steal the first hit.

Although people have made fun of his laidback, easy-going manner, he was asked to join this notoriously difficult band without playing a note with them so how’s that for respect?

His voice doesn’t sound as strong as it sounded with Poco (although he’s always had access to that sublime upper register), it’s as if he’s realised that he needs to cover different ground in the Eagles.

A quick word on a couple of tracks Timothy’s been on, not necessarily composer or lead singer but which benefit from all the above-mentioned qualities.

This video with Tim in big headphones I now love. All that beautiful hair, that earnestness: he’s adorable. The song I thought was tepid, trivial, unworthy of the band, I find myself singing. He’s right – the song has space to breathe, develop; simple, unalloyed and his voice fits it perfectly. And then there’s Don Felder’s solo … what more need I say?

I remember a certain song very well – Rose of Cimarron, from hearing it on pirate radio, must have been reasonably catchy. Written by Rusty Young. But this song that I thought of as slender, slight, insubstantial even, is so much more. Heavenly harmonies, a perfect blend of voices, a lovely melody. And TBS’s voice has a heartbreaking sweetness and purity that takes it to another plane.

In this video, they look and sound a little like they’re underwater.
More spot-on harmonies, another amazingly contagious, uplifting tune. Real tenderness. Just the ohs at the beginning make my heart flutter and when the words come in, it’s incredibly beautiful. Not so much a wall of sound as a lace net curtain of sound. Their voices are delicately interwoven into something fine and intricate, that lets the light through to cast filigree shadow patterns on the wall.

Wow!
I will write more later on other outstanding Poco tracks, such as their magnificent version of Magnolia and on some TBS solo songs, lightweight but lovely confections, such as Something Sad.

Please forgive the devotion and zeal of the newly converted.I've taken photos from all over so please let me know if you want a credit. Thanks to: http://eaglesonlinecentral.com.

Bashful Badger was inspired  to write a poem about TBS; you can read it here.

Part Two of this blog is here.


Sunday, 23 June 2013

Opinion8: Songs about School


No need for a preamble – the title says it: my 8 favourite songs about school. As usual, links are in the song titles.

1 Adult Education – Hall and Oates (1984)
It’s easy to forget how vital, how exciting, how stirring some of those old Hall and Oates songs were. This grabs you immediately, has a great hook, a driving beat and interesting lyrics. Soul cum funk cum pop, just a perfect song. And you know what a sucker I am for the syncopated handclap.
It’s afternoon in the home room and they're about to let you go/And the lockers slam on the plan you had tonight/You’ve been messing around with a boyfriend maybe better left alone/There's a wise guy that you know could put you right/ … /And the long halls and the gray walls are gonna split apart/Believe it or not there's life after high school.

You forget how dramatic the Rats could be (like the brilliant Rat Trap) but this is a great reminder.
Bob Geldof wrote the song after reading a telex report on the shooting spree of sixteen-year-old Brenda Ann Spencer at Grover Cleveland Elementary School in San Diego on 29 January 1979. Spencer’s explanation for her actions was "I don't like Mondays. This livens up the day". Geldof:  I was thinking about it on the way back to the hotel and I just said 'Silicon chip inside her head had switched to overload'. I wrote that down. And the journalist interviewing her said, 'Tell me why?'
The silicon chip inside her head/Gets switched to overload/And nobody’s gonna go to school today/She’s gonna make them stay at home/And daddy doesn’t understand it/He always said she was good as gold/And he can see no reasons/'Cos there are no reasons/What reason do you need to be show-ow-ow-ow-own?

Joyful, irresistible, effervescent pop. A British group that sound American, Replacements-lite, ass not arse and so on. I forgot how much fun they were. So much energy.
Her voice is echoed in my mind/I count the days till she is mine/Can’t tell my friends cos they will laugh/I love a member of the staff/I fight my way to front of class/To get the best view of her ass/I drop a pencil on the floor/She bends down and shows me more …/That’s what I go to school for ...


[The Kinks have to feature because of the concept album, Schoolboys in Disgrace, which looks back at the Davies boys’ schooldays and Dave’s misdemeanours. The front cover was illustrated by Mickey Finn of T. Rex, later appearing on NME's list of the '50 worst covers of all time'. Ray Davies's take is typically conflicted. He hated his schooldays but they were happy days. I don't think Dave’s memory would be as rose-tinted.]



4 Headmaster – the Kinks
Gentle piano introduction accompanies Ray’s confessional verse to the headmaster before the guitar breaks through as he becomes more impassioned and somehow more distant-sounding in the chorus (as if he were singing loudly but holding the mike away from him). Dave says ‘The chorus after the guitar solo is pure magic’.
Of course, as mentioned in another blog, Ray’s usually typecast as the evil headmaster.
Headmaster don't beat me I beg you/I know that I've let you down/Headmaster please spare me I beg you/Don't make me take my trousers down.
Methinks he doth protest too much.

Revenge of the nerds in a song. Catchy chorus, identifiable characters, clever words and it tells a story even if it does have the requisite happy ending of a romcom.
Her boyfriend's a dick/He brings a gun to school/He'd simply kick my ass if he knew the truth/He lives on my block/And he drives an I-ROC/But he doesn't know who I am/And he doesn't give a damn about me.



This is from some teen show, Fame LA, that I’d never heard of. Only discovered it existed through my love of Christian Kane’s music. This wasn’t written by him (as far as I know) but it makes no difference as even in 19whatever, he sings it with total conviction. I just love the spirit with which he approaches things – if he does anything, he gives it his all. I love his voice and it doesn’t hurt that he’s cute. Great lyrics.
Well, the last one hurt like hell/Knocked the wind right out of my sail/and I'll heal up someday/But it's gonna leave a beauty of a scar/ … I'm tryin' to get myself an education/Cry one more tear towards graduation/'Cause every Sunday punch I've thrown/Has come back around to clean my clock/The bell is ringin' down at the school of hard knocks/They're gonna inscribe my name/At the bridge-burnin' hall of fame/As a fool who never learned/That there ain't no future in it … 

Cooper was inspired to write the song when answering the question, ‘What's the greatest three minutes of your life?’ His reply: ‘There's two times during the year. One is Christmas morning, when you're just getting ready to open the presents. … The next one is the last three minutes of the last day of school when you're sitting there and it's like a slow fuse burning. I said, “If we can catch that three minutes in a song, it's going to be so big”.’ And he did and it was.
School's out for summer school's out forever school's been blown to pieces/No more pencils no more books no more teacher's dirty looks yeah/Well we got no class and we got no principals …

Love the ominous-sounding beginning. This won the Grammy Award for Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal. In the UK, it was the biggest selling single of the year. Rhyming cough with Nabokov is surely worthy of Ray Davies himself.
Loose talk in the classroom/To hurt they try and try/Strong words in the staffroom/The accusations fly/It's no use, he sees her/He starts to shake and cough/Just like the old man in/That book by Nabokov ...



Bubbling under
I’m in Disgrace – the Kinks
Schooldays – the Kinks
Beauty School Dropout – Frankie Avalon
Another Brick in the Wall – Pink Floyd
To Sir, with Love – Lulu
Kiss Off – Violent Femmes
Thirteen – Big Star (can't believe I forgot this till now)



Monday, 15 April 2013

Dave Davies and George Harrison: Parallel Lives Part II


Both were the youngest members of the band and the lead guitarists. They may even have played the same guitar.

Dave says:
‘Somebody had loaned me a custom-built Guild guitar that had once been owned by George Harrison. In those days we carried our own instruments and when we arrived at the airport in LA all the bags arrived except for that guitar.’ Dave went on to buy a Gibson Futurist, aka the Flying Vee, for $200. I think the moral of this tale is ‘Don’t lend Dave your guitar.’



And they loved their guitars:
In Kink, Dave writes of a girlfriend:
‘She was terribly jealous of that guitar, the way I held it, the way I cared for it. She always thought I loved it more than I did her.’

George told Beatles Monthly:
‘I believe I love my guitar more than the others love theirs. For John and Paul, songwriting is pretty important and guitar playing is a means to an end. While they're making up new tunes I can thoroughly enjoy myself just doodling around with a guitar for a whole evening. I'm fascinated by new sounds I can get from different instruments I try out. I'm not sure that makes me particularly musical. Just call me a guitar fanatic instead, and I'll be satisfied.’


Collaboration
It seems that Dave and George had similar attitudes when working with others to create a song. The result was more important than who did what.

Two quotes from Dave illustrate this:
Lola was written in a similar way to You Really Got Me. We got together in Ray's front room, and Ray had the basic idea of the song, the skeleton idea … and I just started playing E in the bottom position, moved it up to A, leaving the E string open and in the chord. Ray said, 'Ah, that's great. Let's put that in as well.' [As a songwriter] Ray has a very firm idea about what he wants to do, and I try to accommodate him as best I can, but I think in certain areas, on certain songs, there's a lot more collaboration than people realise. Although Ray and I don't get on particularly well, there's a lot of empathy and unspoken energy that goes toward the finished product.’

'I think a rock 'n' roll record should start off being a song and should end up being a song. I think that everything around it should be complementary to it, or help it to evolve, rather than get in its way. I've always tried to keep that in mind as a guitar player. Rather than say, 'Let's start with the guitar and a 16 bar solo.' It's the song that's important, and the individual parts add to it.'

Rolling Stone founder Jann Wenner described George Harrison as:
‘a guitarist who was never showy but who had an innate, eloquent melodic sense. He played exquisitely in the service of the song.’

‘George Harrison and I were once in a car and the Beatles song You Can't Do That came on, with that great riff in the beginning on the 12-string. He goes, "I came up with that.” … He said, “I was just standing there and thought, I've got to do something!” That pretty much sums him up. He just had a way of getting right to the business, of finding the right thing to play. That was part of that Beatles magic – they all seemed to find the right thing to play.’

This is true of the Kinks too. Ray knew that he could rely on Dave to play something apposite and in tune with the spirit of the song. To me, it seems that although George and Dave weren’t writing as prolifically, they used their energy and creativity to contribute to the compositions. They understood what Aristotle meant by ‘The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.’ For some reason, I’ve always had that quotation backwards, that the sum of the parts is greater than the whole.

Recognition
I’m sure they experienced similar frustrations when their songs did not make the final album cut, with both only allowed a couple of songs per LP. In the case of the Beatles, this was instrumental in the decision to split.

In 1969, McCartney told Lennon:
‘Until this year, our songs have been better than George's. Now this year his songs are at least as good as ours.’
Thanks, guys.

This is certainly a situation that Dave could relate to. In Kink, he tells of occasions when a song of his would be slated to appear on an album, then mysteriously disappear at the last minute. Thanks, bro. Whether this was the result of Ray’s insecurity or a real belief (as with Lennon and McCartney) that his songs were better, we’ll never know.

Now I’m thinking that one reason Dave’s songs didn’t get released might be that he was reluctant to fight his corner. I know it seems unlikely given his reputation as a battler but perhaps Dave lacked confidence in his own ability. I say this because the three songs I want to consider here in relation to George’s aren’t even indexed in Kink although he mentions She’s My Girl, another song recorded but not released. Or did Dave fail in advocacy of his songs because they were products of his pain at the time and too personal?

By the late 60s/early 70s, both George and Dave have reached a pinnacle of sorts. I’ve chosen to highlight three of their songs from this time to try to showcase what’s so special about their writing. It actually makes me angry that Dave’s songs get so little recognition from a wider public (or even from Dave) when so many less deserving talents reap so many rewards. Was it ever thus? I’ve already trashed most modern music in my first blog and don’t want to come across as reactionary but everything seems so generic and formulaic these days – the same beats, the same rap interlude (I really enjoy getting aggressively harangued by a sexist man), the same inane lyrical content, the same tiny scrap of a melody, repeated endlessly. I know there are exceptions but even today’s modern-day ‘rock’ bands all seem to be one-trick ponies recycling soundalike riffs from yesteryear in a completely pedestrian manner (Arctic Monkeys, Kasabian, the Kaiser Chiefs, etc.). Ok, enough with the rant already.

Immediate, fresh, beautifully heartfelt, Dave’s strange pronunciation of the double rs in sorrow and tomorrow adds to the poignancy of his vocal, which is wistful, yearning, the verse resigned:
I wish that you'd have known/ Of all the plans I had in store for us/ Laughing, dancing, travelling the world on our own
the chorus raging:
And this man, he weeps tonight/And his head is bowed with sorrow/But what can you do, sitting there/And you let him cry tomorrow/Yes, you'll let him cry tomorrow/Yes, you'll let him cry tomorrow
Both this and Mindless Child of Motherhood were B-sides, the former paired with Drivin’, the latter with Shangri-la. I’m not debating that both A-sides are great but I actually think the B-sides are better. At least one deserved to be an A.

George’s songs suffered a similar fate. 
Plaintive, mournful, Dave sounds like he might actually weep singing this. Simple and effective, imbued with pain and hope, this was only available on acetate until the 2011 Hidden Treasures album.
Cause you're living with a man/Who will find no understanding/Do you mind if I laid down and cried?/Do you ever know the way/That I feel for you each day?/So are you ready girl?/Are you ready?
Asked whether he can feel the frustration in the songs on Hidden Treasures, Dave replies:
‘In a way, but after all these years it has a charm because of that. I couldn’t stand listening to it at the time. Is Are You Ready? on it? I love that song. I hated it for years. It’s about Sue again.’

When Dave sings, it doesn’t sound like a typical Kinks record at all. His voice is instantly recognisable and his songs have a totally different feel. I think that’s a good thing, much as I love Ray, because it adds to their appeal. This reminds me of the Byrds. Dave’s compositions seem to spring from raw emotion, which he can no longer contain, and so releases in a burst of cathartic song. I wish I had the know-how to describe the musical phrasing, time signatures and everything in this amazing song. There’s a very good high-quality version on YouTube in which you can hear all the things I can't express. Dave is angry and despairing:
How long must I travel on/To be just where you are?/Mindless child of motherhood/You have lost the thing that's good
I love it even though I have no idea what the phrase ‘mindless child of motherhood’ means. It doesn’t matter.

Delicate intro, then each time George sings the title, the guitar lets loose with a cry of its own, a strangled sob if you like, each slightly different to the last, before a sustained solo and final burst of wailing. Eric Clapton played lead guitar on this although he wasn’t credited on the album.

Wiki facts: 136 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, 7 in the 100 Greatest Guitar Songs of All Time and 10 in the Beatles 100 Greatest Songs. A Guitar World poll in February 2012 elected it the best of Harrison's Beatles-era songs.
But still not deemed good enough to be released as a single.

George explains the genesis of the song:
‘I wrote While My Guitar Gently Weeps at my mother's house in Warrington. I was thinking about the Chinese I Ching, the Book of Changes... . The Eastern concept is that whatever happens is all meant to be, and that there's no such thing as coincidence - every little item that's going down has a purpose. While My Guitar Gently Weeps was a simple study based on that theory. I decided to write a song based on the first thing I saw upon opening any book - as it would be relative to that moment, at that time. I picked up a book at random, opened it, saw 'gently weeps', then laid the book down again and started the song.’
I look at the world and I notice it's turning/While my guitar gently weeps/With every mistake we must surely be learning/Still my guitar gently weeps


Follows a similar pattern to While My Guitar – a pretty guitar introduction, matched by the more insistent, louder guitar refrain that follows. This song is really optimistic and open, the tone reminscent of Dave’s song Wait till the Summer Comes Along. Dave’s supposedly down but still looking on the bright side. George says:
‘Here Comes the Sun was written at the time when Apple was getting like school, where we had to go and be businessmen: 'Sign this' and 'Sign that'. Anyway, it seems as if winter in England goes on forever; by the time spring comes you really deserve it. So one day I decided I was going to sag off [bunk off] Apple and I went over to Eric Clapton's house. The relief of not having to go and see all those dopey accountants was wonderful, and I walked around the garden with one of Eric's acoustic guitars and wrote Here Comes The Sun.’
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter/Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here/Here comes the sun/Here comes the sun, and I say/It's all right

Something (1969)
Finally George scores an A-side but having said that, the song was still originally handed to Joe Cocker, who released it first.
There’s a build of momentum, a gradual ascent, the guitar parts adding colour and texture before the peak of the bridge, which arrives like a tiger bursting through a paper hoop.

Wiki facts: The Beatles version topped the US Billboard charts and went top five in the UK. Covers by over 150 artists (including Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, James Brown, Shirley Bassey, Tony Bennett and Eric Clapton) make it the second-most covered Beatles song after Yesterday. Harrison’s favourite take on the song was apparently James Brown's, which he put on his personal jukebox.


The song's lyrics were taken from the title of a song by fellow Apple artist James Taylor, Something in the Way She Moves, and used as filler while the melody was being developed. The song's second line, ‘Attracts me like no other lover’ was the last to be written; during early recording sessions for Something, Harrison alternated between two placeholder lyrics: ‘Attracts me like a cauliflower’ and ‘Attracts me like a pomegranate’.
George's delivery is impassioned:
You're asking me will my love grow/I don't know, I don't know/You stick around and it may show/I don't know, I don't know/Something in the way she knows/And all I have to do is think of her/Something in the things she shows me/I don't want to leave her now/You know I believe and how
George tends to consider the bigger picture; Dave considers the actual picture; Ray is examining a flaw in the frame but more of Ray's delectable talent in a later blog.

Philosophy and religion
Dave and George both embraced yoga, became vegetarian and developed a mutual interest in Hinduism, Indian deities (My Sweet Lord was written in praise of Krishna but the singing of Allelujah allowed it to appeal to Christians) and Eastern religions and philosophy in general but, as usual, this blog is already too long. At the Satsang weekends, Dave emphasises inclusivity and although his beliefs might be based on Eastern concepts, he also calls on ‘Master Jesus’ and sings a version of Hare Krishna, in which everyone participates. George says:
‘All religions are branches of one big tree. It doesn't matter what you call Him just as long as you call.’
I don't think it could be put any better than that and it seems a good line to end on.

[Dave covers Give me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth), which has been released on the tribute album Songs from the Material World: George Harrison.]
[Another blogger also considers some of these similarities.]

[Thanks to KindaKinks site and Wikipedia.]



Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Opinion8: Protest Songs

A blog that lists 8 of the best/worst/most common of any example, including songs, movie clichés, movies, best characters and so forth, some with explanation, some needing none.

So, here are my eight favourite songs with a message, songs that highlight an issue, a condition or a cause.Links to the songs in the titles.

1 Bullet and a Target – Citizen Cope
Vital, immediate, intelligent, heartfelt, you can't beat Citizen Cope. There’s so much going on musically when you listen carefully. I particularly love the syncopated handclaps.
‘Mrs Dalai Lamas/Another sister's shootin' heroin tomorrow/Amputees in Freetown, Sierra Leone's/The church wasn't honest/The state put the youth in a harness/Creatin' hostility among us/Teacher said no college/Still the kid's gonna get a check/With a couple of commas/People wanna bomb us/More people gotta scatter and run from us’
The second to last line quoted I heard as ‘People want Obamas’ which I think is even better.


2 For America – Jackson Browne
Passion and disillusion, a fiery combination. Lights the touchpaper every time. Jimmy Guterman calls it ‘both a prayer and a love song, which damns 'a generation's blank stare.’
‘I have prayed for America/I was made for America/Her shining dream plays in my mind/By the rockets' red glare/A generation's blank stare/We better wake her up this time’

This version reminds me of how I used to listen to Bob Marley songs, taped off the radio, playing on a small radio cassette recorder I insisted on carrying round everywhere, even on country walks, to my Dad’s dismay. A song that transcends age, gender, class and race with consummate ease, that is as at home on my radio cassette as it is at the ATP Tennis Players’ Party in Monte Carlo.
‘Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery/None but ourselves can free our minds’

Love the spirit, love the lyrics, love the tone, Prince’s show and tell, with urgent vocals and laidback beat, is totally compelling.
‘In France a skinny man/Died of a big disease with a little name/By chance his girlfriend came across a needle/And soon she did the same/At home there are seventeen-year-old boys/And their idea of fun/Is being in a gang called the Disciples/High on crack, totin’ a machine gun’
A plea to us all to recognise the suffering of others and stop feeling sorry for ourselves, his gentle strumming and what sounds like a lot of echo on his voice somehow make this even more convincing.
‘In the all-night café/At a quarter past eleven/Same old man sitting there on his own/Looking at the world/Over the rim of his tea-cup/And each tea lasts an hour/And he wanders home alone’





Beginning with the ambient sound of a relaxed gathering, to set the scene. They say a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down and Marvin's honey tones and a gorgeous tune do the trick here. It sounds like peace, if peace had a sound.
Mother, mother/There's too many of you crying/Brother, brother, brother/There's far too many of you dying/You know we've got to find a way/To bring some lovin' here today yeah/Father, father/We don't need to escalate/You see, war is not the answer/For only love can conquer hate/You know we've got to find a way/To bring some lovin' here today, oh (oh)

Oh for the days when people used to protest properly, peacefully, over things that actually mattered.
‘Well, come on all of you, big strong men/Uncle Sam needs your help again/He's got himself in a terrible jam/Way down yonder in Vietnam/So put down your books and pick up a gun/We're gonna have a whole lotta fun’

More of a lament than a message song but simple, melancholic and conducive to contemplation.
‘Has anyone here seen my old friend Martin?/Can you tell me where he's gone?/He freed a lot of people/But it seems the good die young, yeah/I just looked around and he was gone.’








Extract from another blog, bemoaning the lack of ideas in most current chart music. This blog can be found here.
The charts are full of these so-called songs, which consist of one refrain, sung or played over and over ad infinitum, often this refrain being a sample from an older song (so not even an original tune), usually with all the passion or feeling leached out of it, so it sounds as if it’s been sung by an auto-tuned automaton (again the Black-Eyed Peas are a perfect example with their soulless rendition of ‘Time of My Life’) and then some extremely childish rap with clichéd rhymes, for example, ‘it’s the girls on the coast, I like the most’, or words repeated ‘I see my friends, friends, friends’ or mingled with uninsightful lyrics, such as Jlo’s ‘Let me introduce you to my party in the club’. This nonsense spreads like wildfire. It’s infinitely depressing to me to think that this is all anyone wants to hear: songs with the singer boasting about how sexy they are, how they’re going to rock the club, or repeating their own names, etc. There are occasional exceptions, such as Beyoncé’s ‘Halo’ but they really only serve to prove the rule. Sometimes there’s a snatch of a pleasant-enough tune but the mindless drivel of words that accompanies it is like Chinese water torture - it infiltrates everything until it’s ubiquitous and erodes my will to live. Nobody wants to hear real sentiments or ideas any more. Gone are the days of wordsmiths and tunesmiths like Neil Young or Gordon Lightfoot. Or rather gone are the days when writers of such calibre could achieve mainstream recognition while expressing different takes on society or challenging ideas. In the 60s and 70s, it was considered a virtue to write something deep, moving or politically resonant. Now it’s a very difficult climate for intelligence or authenticity. There are musicians out there who are creating worthwhile songs, whose lyrics have integrity, like Citizen Cope, but the market is on the decline.

Other contenders
Ohio – Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
For No One – Barclay James Harvest
What's Going On – Marvin Gaye
Vietnam Cowboys – Ray Davies
Angola (Wrong Side of the Law) – Ray Davies
Give Me Love, Give Me Peace on Earth – George Harrison
Old Empire – Nova Mob
A Gallon of Gas – the Kinks
Dead-End Street – the Kinks
Shipbuilding – Robert Wyatt
Flag Day – the Housemartins
One in Ten – UB40
Get over It – Eagles
Goodnight, Saigon – Billy Joel

Wistful wish-fulfilment
Harvest for the World – Isley Brothers
Give Peace a Chance/Imagine – John Lennon
Earth Song/Heal the World – Michael Jackson