Paris 1919

Dear Daniel,

You've mentioned Hallelujah on a couple of occasions now and I've been firming up my knowledge on it for work since it will be Christmas #1 and people are asking about it. So, there's the Leonard Cohen version you posted and the Jeff Buckley one which many people think exists in the very small category of songs which were done better as a cover than they were by the artist who wrote them (which we could take on as a irregular theme here). But there is the version which some think influenced the Jeff Buckley arrangement and it's the version which was performed by John Cale.

Doing the research, I'm in danger of having heard the song itself too much. Coupled with the fact that simply to be in the UK over the next month and hear various versions on repeat could destroy much of the love for the track that existed in the first place, here's John Cale's Paris 1919. It's better performed on that album than it is here live, but judging by any Lou Reed concert ever, there must be an unwritten rule that all former members of the Velvet Underground change vocal phrasing and mumble while on stage.

Dear James,

It's at times like this that it feels good to be away from England. The concept of a Christmas Number One doesn't exist here, in fact not even the concept of Number One exists, and life is much the simpler for it. There's a Number Ten and he's called Diego, but that's about it. No X Factor, per se, no novelty records and no incessant in-your-face Christmas stuff on the telly. There's Dancing for a Dream, the pornographic version of "Strictly Come Dancing", but I just ignore it exists.

I didn't mean to keep mentioning Hallelujah, it's like haemorrhoids, it irritates me and so I can't stop myself bringing it up in conversation. Do you have any album to recommend from John Cale? Paris 1919, I s'pose. I thought I'd bought one of his a few years ago, but it turned out to be JJ Cale and I never got over the disappointment.

Canción Para Mi Muerte

Dear James,

I was going to post this as a link from the other Sui Generis song below, but this video is just so good I have to post it here and now. If you don't like it, I don't think I can be your friend anymore.

Dear Daniel,

It's alright! I like it! We can still be friends. I liked it the best on that compilation you made for me. I remember us listening it together at one point and you telling me who it was. Immediately, I forgot, while Doug Stegmeyer remained. So I'm glad you've brought it up again, thank you. What's a snow clone?

Dear James,

A snowclone is a set phrase that can be adapted for the purposes of comedic humour, such as including "moment of zen" anywhere you like, the phrase "no xs were hurt in the making of this y" and "x is the new y", as in that popular mid-70s dictum, "Stegmeyer is the new Moon". I have a friend called Stegmayer, you know? I remember on the compilation tape this song segued into Cat Stevens' Father and Son. That was one big hippierama.

Las increibles aventuras del señor tijeras

Dear James,

I was going to do a post about the UK Christmas number one, in light of that wonderful Alexandra girl's victory on Opportunity Knocks. I read in The Guardian that she "literally cried". Literally! Can you believe that? She didn't just cry cry, she literally cried. Anyway, then I saw the video to that evil satirist Peter Kay's Christmas song and only made it half way through before switching it off in disgust/boredom/the need to get to bed early. So I'm going to tell you about Sui Generis. No, not Genesis.

You'll know Sui Generis from a tape I sent you many moons ago which included their Cancion para mi muerte, or Song for my Death for those of us that don't have Spanish degrees. Well, last Saturday I found myself in the all-too familiar situation of an Argentinian asking me if I liked any Argentinian music, looking offended at the degree of negativity in my answer and then spending the rest of the evening trying to play me something I might like. This time it was one of Josefina's 297 cousins, Eduardo, and finally an Argentinian came good.

Las increibles aventuras del señor Tijeras, or the Incredible Adventures of Mr. Scissors, for those of us who thought a maths and chemistry degree would serve us well in life, being written in 1974 is about censorship, as you'll guess from the scissor sound effects at the start of the song. Taken from their third and penultimate album, the sound marks a change from the "hippies with a flute sitting round a campfire" aesthetic of their first two albums, and is all the better for it. In this respect, singer and songwriter Charlie (later Charly) Garcia is very much a latter day South American Dylan, although don't tell Argentinians that as they'll claim he's far huger than Dylan ever was, and indeed anyone else.

The things that made me like this song instantly are: 0:23 der der der der der der der der! 1:33 the "I'm bored of this musical direction, let's change in mid-song" moment of zen. Charlie had just got himself a new Moog from the States and couldn't wait till the next album to use it. My apologies for my use of the phrase "moment of zen", by the way. That's what we linguists call a snowclone. And then 2:45 when the synths come in, just when you thought the big musical change was at 1:33. One of Charlie/Charly's main influences was Procol Harum and Vanilla Fudge. I'm glad somebody was influenced by those bands.

Dear Daniel,

What wonderful, psychedelic nonsense. I love it. To me, there seems to be a gentle open-mindedness to this era of bizarre mixtures between Beatles-style harmony and avant-garde wierdness. A kind of engaging naivity which was completely missing from 70s prog rock, who is essentially the same hairdresser attempting the same job but with shinier scissors and an arrogant air of, "Who was the last person to cut this?".

Sweating Bullets

Dear James,

The Megadeth video catalogue is ripe with humour. I could've posted the brilliant "Peace Sells...but who's buying?" or the equally comical "Go To Hell", but I chose this one for Dave Mustaine's impeccable impression of a man pretending to be mad.

The song also begs the question: why does Dave Mustaine sing like a man on the toilet trying to force one out?

I was at Rock World in Manchester in 2004 when this song came on. A very hirsute gentleman got very excited and launched into his very own Mustaine impersonation. As far as party pieces go, it was right up there with my dad reciting Vincent Price's lines from Thriller.

As a youth, Dave Mustaine was a drug dealer and one of his clients paid him in Judas Priest and Iron Maiden records. Try slipping a "Seventh Son of a Seventh Son" LP into a club and exchanging it for a couple of pills. Works every time.

Dave Mustaine is most fondly remembered, of course, for his cameo appearance in the comedy "Some Kind of Monster". Mustaine claims he withdrew his permission to use the footage of him in the romcom, and says they edited out the bit where Lars Ulrich storms out of a room crying. Poor Lars. Megadeth's Wikipedia page has a list of all the people Dave Mustaine has feuds with. It's a long list. Poor Dave.

Dear Daniel,

I thought Dave Mustaine came across as quite needy in that film. I felt for him. I also notice that he repeatedly looks a lot like Thom Yorke in the video you posted. Not always, just repeatedly. I would point out certain times when this happens but that would mean listening to the song through again and, frankly, Megadeth already owe me far too many wasted minutes.

Prelude / Angry Young Man

Dear James,

I spent yesterday afternoon listening to Billy Joel's Turnstiles album and smoking pot in the sunshine. If there's a better way to spend a Saturday, I've yet to find it. This live performance has much to recommend it: The way it takes a heavy-metalesque two minuutes before the lyrics start; Billy Joel's nonchalance, playing the piano one-handed while chatting with the crowd (if you read his lips, he's saying "look at this: one-handed! Do you want to meet me later?");

Once again, as in the Van Halen video, what's with the huge drumkit? It's not as if Billy Joel bothers to get a 150-key piano. I can understand that if you have eight tom toms you can do a couple of fills in the songs (there's a completely pointless one at 3:57), but is that really cost-effective? I'd invest my money in drumsticks. You can never have too many drumsticks.

How often to you see rock stars wearing suits like that these days? Was he trying to do an updated version of The Beatles' thing? Or had he come straight from a board meeting and not had time to change? And why does a fan hand him a pizza at the end of the song? Oh, hang on, it's a frisbee.

Dear Daniel,

As you know, I was a huge fan of Billy Joel at the age of 7 when An Innocent Man came out. At the time, as far as music was concerned, I liked only him and the Beatles so I may have made the suit-link without realising it. Naturally, I know all the answers to your questions. I also still know the name of the drummer. I know where and on which album sleeve you are able to find a picture of him wearing a watch around his ankle. Dammit, I even know the name of the saxophonist who is performing backing vocals. Compare this, for example, with the fact that I cannot remember any of the history I was taught at school. This is not an exaggeration. I can't even remember being taught history although I can remember the teachers who apparently did it, so there must have been at least some attempt on their part. I would probably be a better person if I knew more about the Peasant's Revolt and less about bloody Doug Stegmeyer.

This song is also on the live album Kohyept, and I hadn't thought seriously about that record for over 20 years until this summer, when I realised on a street in Irkutsk that it is supposed to be pronounced "concert".