We write about the songs that make the whole world sing, we write about the songs of love and special things, we write about the songs that make the young girls cry, we write about the songs, we write about the songs.
Here's my favourite song this week, Mathilde by Scott Walker. And with it comes a fun new game: Watch the Jacques Brel version with English subtitles and then the Scott Walker version, then perform a semantic analysis of the translation. Hours of fun.
If you enjoyed that, you can do the same with Jacques' version of Jackie and Scott's version, sadly not translated as "Scotty". Hours of intellectual entertainment! And I've just realised Jacques' original makes a clear reference to Carlos Gardel.
Dear Daniel,
Wow. I've loved Scott Walker's Mathilde for while. The way it builds, its relentlessness, the way it explodes with "Charlie! Champagne, right away!", the trumpets' triumphant salute. But that Jacque Brel version tops it... so much more intense, so much darker, much much madder, a lot more personal. There are also gut-wrenchingly contraversial open references to angry domestic violence which I hope are a sign of those times, rather than a sign of the French.
Some fairly rubbish videos from The Pink Floyd. In Arnold Layne, our boys goof around on the beach with a ventriloquist's dummy. In See Emily Play, our boys goof around in the park, without a ventriloquist's dummy, and recreate that annoying scene from "Blow-Up" where they pretend to play tennis, albeit probably before "Blow-Up" was made.
Have I ever told you about Piazzolla? Probably best if I haven't as I know very little about him and have in all likelihood just misspelled his name there. You would be better informed reading the Wikipedia article about him. If you're too busy to do that, I'll tell you the salient titbit: In 1935, Piazzolla met Gardel, who invited him to tour with his band. Piazzolla's dad wouldn't let him, because he was only 13. Gardel and his entourage were killed in a plane crash during the same tour. Similarly, I've always been grateful to my mum for forbidding me from joining Metallica on their 1986 Swedish tour.
One of the main problems with tango is that no sooner are the grand masters out of sight then you get a lot of poncey kids making cheesy videos and showing off how talented they are:
Who ever heard of tango being sexy? Whatever next? Jazz and heroin? Fortunately for the world, there are still videos of Piazzolla himself playing a storm with one of his bands.
Here's some stuff I watched on youtube when I was supposed to be working. John Cage is a man I've always confused with John Cale. Even when writing his name just now, I accidentally wrote John Cale. I long for them to be one and the same man, as this would mean John Cale was a musical god whose genius stretched over five decades taking in everything from avant-garde nonsense to great, viola-driven pop. A bit like Cliff Richard, only without the avant-garde nonsense and the viola-driven pop.
Up above is some fella doing his 4'33. Click here and you can see some other fella playing his Suite for Toy Piano, a suite so complex it has parts that can't actually be played on a toy piano. Alternatively, or concurrently, click here for a man playing Cage's Dream on an unfeasibly large set of xylophones. Read more about John Cage here. And for a further appreciation of my Cale/Cage confusion, click here for Cocaine by JJ Cale. I don't know what Stanley Unwin's doing at the start of the video, but then Stanley Unwin is a bit of a law unto himself. I often get him mixed up with LS Lowry.
Here's a Lovin Spoonful performance from the Ed Sullivan show (I think), particularly entertaining for the guitarist's antics. A man after your own heart, clearly. I've been looking for an excuse to post this for a while, and today while "researching" (I think I was looking for clips of Roger Moore; I can't remember what their purpose was, but this is reasonably entertaining. And did you know, Moore was paid a million quid per episode back in the seventies for his role in The Persuaders? And it was crap!) I found out that the 'Spoonful performed the soundtrack for a Woody Allen film. I've often wondered why many people consider the Lovin Spoonful to have been a bit shit, and I think this might go some way to explaining why, not least because the soundtrack was dubbed on without Woody Allen's permission. But then, given that Allen had dubbed a whole film soundtrack onto the original Japanese film, he didn't really have much cause for complaint.
Here's something I found out at work today. I was "researching" espionage for the Trojan Television episode when I found the story of the Rosenbergs, controversially alleged US spies who gave information about the atom bomb to the Soviets and were executed in 1953. Their children were eventually adopted by Abel Meeropol, who under the pen name of Lewis Allen wrote Strange Fruit. Albeit fourteen years earlier, which kind of spoils the story, on reflection.
In 1999, Time magazine named Strange Fruit the Song of the Century. Time magazine clearly weren't Queen fans. Although that does remind that you can find out what was on the cover of Time magazine on the day you were born. Mine's Paul McCartney.
Just when you thought Buenos Aires could attract no more of those washed-up, whatever-happened-to artistes who can't get gigs in the northern hemisphere (Rick Wakeman, Jethro Tull without Ian Anderson, ELO without Jeff Lynne, Liza Minelli), this Friday sees the arrival of Cristopher Cross. You know, the guy who did that song back in 1980 and pretty much nothing else.
Even the song title is annoying. Why would you give your song a title and (an alternative title) and still forget to include the words "Caught between the moon and New York City" in either part? Even worse is the fact that the song was written by Burt Bacharach, although thankfully not with Hal David. No, he wrote it with his wife.
So, as you may know, I'm doing a script writing course with some famous people over here and have to write a story for my weekely assignment. Having abandoned my first story (something to do with people having affairs, for a change) I've now decided to try out the "Songs of Bacharach and David" idea.
This is the story so far: "Jim" (not you, another Jim) quits his desperately authentic indie band, goes though some kind of breakdown, and wakes up in the morning able to play the songs of Bacharach and David note-perfect. He can also write new songs like them, and believes himself to be Burt Bacharach. Much success and riches ensue until Burt Bacharach and Hal David kidnap him and take him to Shangri-La. That's as far as I've got. What happens next? My current thinking is that they use Jim to write new Bacharach-David songs for them so they can get over the fiasco of the Lost Horizon film (as seen below), after which Hal David disappeared and Bacharach started writing songs with his wife for Cristopher Cross. But I'm sure there must be a better third act...
PS. Have you ever seen the film "Arthur"? And is that Peter Cook playing the saxophone solo?
Speaking of Dr. Dog as you were before, it turns out that while I wasn't looking they went and released two albums. I saw this video a few months ago and didn't think much of it. A few months on, I still don't. And yet there are people out there who claim their Fate album is the best they've heard in ages. That's all very well, but I still cant' see it comparing to this
or this
Someone prove me wrong...
Dear Daniel,
You were clearly out of sorts last night and incapable of listening to any music for more than one minute on the crappy speakers at home. In the stereo-enhanced aurality of the studio, you see the error of your ways and post this nice video with bits from the Life Aquatic. Bit boring, but still nice.
Have you seen the Showtime drama Weeds? One of the perks of working in TV is that I get to watch lots of TV programs and call it work. Weeds tells the old traditional story of a sexy widow trying to provide for her family by selling marijuana to her friends and neighbours. That old chestnut. The theme tune is an old Pete Seeger song recorded by Malvina Reynolds, who is interesting for two reasons: 1) I never knew there were people outside Argentina who called their daughters Malvina; and 2) she was quite an old lady by the time she started recording in the 1960s.
From the second season of Weeds the song was performed by a different artiste every week, presumably because people like Josephine Funseeker found Malvina's voice started to grate if you watched all ten episoded back-toback. As a result, it's probably one of the most covered songs in the world ever. Probably. Here's Elvis Costello doing his version for episode one of season two.
On reflection, my time would probably be better spent here telling you about some of the other good acts who played at Live at Leeds last week. That, rather than solipcistically banging on about what a great time was had by me. So here goes -
1) Mumford and Sons (above). The band name sounded to me like a family removals company. As it turned out, dressed like they were in removals. Here's another song - the off-the-bat performance reminds me of that excellent Dr Dog version of California. And there's a beautiful guitar in it too.
2) Wild Beasts. Local lads, except they moved to Leeds from Kendal. People either love them or hate them, largely based on the lead singer's voice. I'm with the "love" team.
Oddly, the bass player has the best singing voice in Leeds and the fact that he only sings back up just makes me like them more. You can hear him on this b-side, behind Hadyn's dog-from-the-muppets roar. It starts with the words "casual sex", so I'm sure you'll enjoy it
3) Dinosaur Pile-Up. Much talked about over here among people in the know. Currently being recorded by Duels' drummer James Kenosha in the same studio where we recorded The Barbarians Move In. Three-piece formed from one half of Leeds favourites Mother Vulpine, with the former drummer from This Et Al involved cos he's wonderful. This is a bit sedate, but live they're very 1992
4) Of course, it's worth putting up a video by the band who managed to get a slot playing at exactly the same time as Dinosaur Pile Up (who everybody wanted to see). That's right: my band. Thankfully, we pulled a crowd...
More to come...
Dear James,
Yeah, given the choice I'd probably go and see Dinosaur Pile Up too. I've seen Duels loads and you know they're not gonna play "What we did wrong", so what's the point? Eh?
Well here's odd. Not to mention, here's Queen again, sadly for everyone else. I was "researching" my reinvented novel with added Queen (researching being drinking vodka and reading stuff that probably isn't true on Wikipedia) when I discovered that this album track from Queen's 1978 album track had been released as a single in 1979 in, quoting Wikipedia, "Germany, Spain, Yugoslavia and Bolivia". Yes, Bolivia. Who releases singles in Bolivia and ignores the rest of the continent? What is this Arabesque Queen fan club movement in Upper Peru? Or is Wikipedia just making stuff up? Should I edit their post on, say, Don't Lose Your Head, and state authoritatively that it was released as a single in Belize in 1988, with New York, New York on the b-side? Or should I just get back to the novel and stop being distracted? Right then.
As if that wasn't enough, my neighbours have started listening to very cheap 80s Spanish-language music and singing along to it. It's only 7.15pm, what do they think they're doing? My mistake, that's actually Cristina Aguilera. And then some fireworks went off down the road, for no apparent reason. The church down the road was putting on a bit of a rock concert earlier, maybe it was them.
Remember how all this madness stated, many many months ago last November? Ah... As you will have noticed, I've been blogging less of late. This is mainly due to my slow realization that my career at times resembles that of Andy Millman in the second series of Extras. It's not got that bad yet, and that whiney bloke from Coldplay hasn't performed any impromptu concerts, but I often feel like it's heading that way. This in turn leads me to withdraw from the world and watch bad TV. Don't worry, it's a May thing: I'll perk up once we get to my birthday.
So, to cheer me and the world up, here are some classic videos from Flash and the Pan, the best thing to come out of Australia before Jason Donovan. First up is Waiting For a Train, where they manage to match every line in the song with a visual image, although this doesn't explain the strange dancers.
Down Among The Dead Men manages to copy Holding Out for a Hero five years before the latter was released. If anything is more indicative of the poverty of modern music compared to that of the 1970s, it's the absolute dearth of comedy songs about the Titanic. And what do pirates have to do with the Titanic anyway? So many questions unanswered.
The advent of modern video technology in the early 1980s allowed Flash and the Pan to make even crapper videos, as seen in Media Man. If this video came out now, people would laugh about what a witty pastiche it was of 1980s videos. Sadly for Flash and the Pan, they're the punchline. Which makes it all the more confusing that they should have been responsible for the best wedding song since Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You, John Paul Young's Love Is In the Air.
Oh hang on, Wikipedia says they only produced it and wrote the English lyrics, the original being a Portuguese song called O Amor Está No Ar, written by Agostinho dos Santos and João Teixeira. But the Portuguese page for Agostinho doesn't mention the song at all. In fact, here's him singing Love is in the Air with Johnny Mathis, and it's a completely different song. Eh?
Speaking of Freddie Mercury at Live Aid, here's Freddie Mercury at Live Aid, with his popular backing band, Queen (Ethiopians not pictured). This is song number 3 in the set, Queen having started their 17-minute slot audaciously with Bohemian Rhapsody and followed that up less audaciously with Radio Gaga. They returned later on in the evening, when the crowd had quietened down and people were pensive, and performed "Is This The World We Created" for all the little African children.
Queen-2 have finally got round to releasing the supposedly legendary Live Aid show (best gig of the 80s, you know?) some 23 years after the event, and even then you have to buy their old We Will Rock You DVD, now retitled Live in Montreal so as to avoid confusion with that awful Ben Elton musical, to get the Live Aid DVD. The DVD also includes a 1981 US interview. It is the most excruciatingly boring Queen interview I've ever seen.
Anyway, as a result of all this I was inspired to dig up the old Queen novel idea and combine it with the Ana Young novel and see if something comes out of it. That was two nights ago. The inspiration's started to slip away again. I have to arrest its slide, before the world misses out on reading my thoughts on songs like this:
A rather excellent weekend over here. Unfortunately, I don't have the time now to go into it too much. Fortunately, this will serve to stop me getting all grandiloquent on yo ass and stick to the facts.
Friday: Aborted a trip to a bar which had promised to add a cocktail designed by me and two colleagues on to their menu when we discovered they hadn't bothered. Instead, had a tequila cocktail designed for us by Leeds best cocktail maker in a better bar around the corner which was EXCELLENT. The only thing that was more EXCELLENT than that was when we didn't have to pay for them.
Saturday: The Duels comeback special; Live at Leeds; good crowd. They sang The Slow Build back to us. I closed my eyes and imagined I was Freddie Mercury on stage at Wembley at Live Aid (I didn't, that was for your benefit).(Actually, I've just remembered it was for the Ethiopians.)
Sunday: Brother's 30th birthday. Wonderful lunch in a pub slap back in the middle of the countryside to the north of Leeds which was once owned by Louis XIV because he liked the colour green. Pushed it very hard with red wine and port. Retired to the sofa to watch the snooker final, and indulged myself to extreme levels by watching Iron Man between the afternoon and evening sessions.
Monday: Went to the wonderful Hyde Park Picture House in Leeds, an ancient and tiny cinema, to watch Jeffery Lewis and the Junkyard during the afternoon. Very entertaining. He didn't either of my two favourite songs but he did play the above - which I love the lyrics to - and he did his history of punk, which is excellent; a very good Crass cover and a couple of his own "music videos".
Today I went to see In The Loop, which is a great film. I'm going to see my Grandparents for dinner tomorrow. Frankly, those fuckers better be entertaining - I'm on a roll here.
Dear James,
I could lie and pretend I had a similarly excellent weekend and that it's taken me till Thursday night to recover, but then I posted a video below of some people dancing round a maypole and told you I'd spent the weekend translating a play, so you'd see right through the pretence, you wily old fox.
While you were sleeping, I installed a clever Google tool on this blog which tells us how many readers we have. It's 37 at the last count, although minus the various computers we use to blog from and it goes down to 32. Will you be delighting our diminished readership with the full cocktail recipe? Hang on, this just in: 50 unique vistors have now visited our blog! In fact, today saw a record high of 10 visitors in one day! I'd like to see Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard beat that.
Last Sunday I went to see a play. Friends' plays aside, I think this is the first play I've ever been to. Not that I went of my own free will, I had to go because I'm translating the play, My Life Afterwards, for Argentinian dramaturg Lola Arias. Apparently my translation is for the subtitles. How do you subtitle a play? I didn't like to ask.
The play is about six actors born between 1974 and 1983 and their memories of their parents and what they did during the 76-83 dictatorship. It's very good. I just spent worker's day translating it, which is probably a hugely fascist thing to do. I've just finished the part where one of the actors dances the malambo, a men-only dance originating from the Pampa in 1600.
This got me thinking. How come countries don't invent dances anymore? There's all these people writing plays, songs, films, books and whatnot, but outside the realms of pop music, no one seems to have come up with a new dance since, ooh, salsa in the sixties. Why is this? And is this a good enough excuse to post a video of children dancing round a maypole? Probably not, but I'm going to do it anyway.
James and Daniel, or Jim and Danny to an unfortunate few, were going to be like the old men who ran 78 Records in Stockport, but writing a blog about the songs and videos they came across seemed a lot less hassle, and saved them having to move to Stockport. And so they created 78x78 Records, so that other people could know what it was like to be their friend, and what they wrote about when they wrote to each other about music. And so they will post videos of songs you might enjoy 78x78 times. And then they will stop. And then they will do something else. That's 6084 posts. They´ll endeavour to get it done quickly. They'd love to hear from you and any videos or songs you'd like them to post. You can do this by commenting in the pertinent area, or by e-mailing them your suggestions at 78discos@gmail.com
