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Don't hear too much from David Essex these days, but he was a real heart-throb in his day. Here he is, with “Rock on”. |
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First, thanks for commenting: seems nobody is these days... :(
Second, I don't watch soaps (any more) so wouldn't have known that. And the worm is too small to see over the window from his garden, so would be similarly unaware. Essex was great in Jeff Wayne's "War of the worlds" though... |
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I do take a look on a regular basis and check some of the clips though for the most part I don't really know what to say nor want to clutter your flow. Personally I write mine in MS Word prior to posting and started keeping a running tally of views between entries to gauge readership, kind of amazed it's up to about 100 between bi-weekly blurbs. On the other hand a track like 'Rock On' is something I do remember, except mainly through the covers, always really liked that bass line. Good god Michael Damien's version reeks of 80s cheese now hahahaha :yikes: Though not nearly as confusing as some of the Smashing Pumpkins versions out there where Corgan sings it at double speed. |
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Woo-hoo! With Trollheart's pet --- sorry, Stacey-Lynn! --- off on hollyers I took the opportunity to sweet talk him into letting me try my own section out, and after several bottles of wine he looked blearily at me (well, at a certain part of me, at any rate...) and mumbled something I took to be permission. When he sobered up the next day he kind of half-remembered what he had agreed to, but to be fair, he's too much of a gentleman to go back on his word (not to mention the fact that I chose THAT precise moment to drop my tennis racquet and HAD to bend RIGHT down to pick it up: hah, men! You're so easy to manipulate!) --- What's that Boss? Oh nothing, no, just talking...! Anyway, here's what I proposed, and what he's letting me do. Every week I'm going to pick out one of the songs I consider the cheesiest and talk about it. Like, you didn't get that from the graphic, huh? My tastes are a little different to Troll's, but generally we like the same sort of music, though he ain't gonna be happy about this first one! http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...A_Bad_Name.jpg You give love a bad name (Bon Jovi) 1986 Yes, I know it's one of his favorite bands, but hey, I have to be my own person! Can't be afraid of rocking the boat, ya know? Now, I realise lots of people love this and it was the song that set Bon Jovi on the road to fame and glory, but come on! The song is so cheesy it belongs in someone's sandwich! From the opening shouted chorus to the awful lyric, through to the totally predictable and cringeworthy bit in the middle where everything but the percussion stops and they clap the acapella chorus --- ugh! This song for me is indicative of everything that's cheesy and laughable in rock music. Granted, their next albums were more mature, and they soon shook off the “teen-pop/rock idols” mantle they saddled themselves with, via this and the less cheesy but still annoying “Livin' on a prayer” --- make up your mind, Jon! First it “doesn't matter if we make it or not”, then it's “We'll make it I swear!” Which is it? --- and granted too, the album has some great tracks. I love “Wanted dead or alive” and “Let it rock”. But as an announcement of your arrival to the world in general, “You give love a bad name” has cheese stamped all over it. I'm only surprised mice haven't run away with every copy! The title is also pointless. You give love a bad name? From the behaviour of the main character in the song, it's not love she's all about but something entirely different. Perhaps they should have changed the title to “You give sluts a bad name”? Wouldn't have been quite so radio-friendly then, would it? But more accurate, when you think about it. I mentioned the lyric. Well, with lines like “Blood red nails on your fingertips”, “Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye”, and the truly terrible “You're a loaded gun” we're not exactly talking very deep thought here now, are we? Let's be honest: it's a throwaway song, although it does have great energy and a sense of fun about it, which is probably why “the kids” went for it in such huge numbers. Not to mention the fact that Jon was quite a looker back then, and the rest of the band weren't no Quasimodos either! But the lyric is childish, the instrumentation is ok but nothing special, and the whole song is aimed at young people, which is nothing bad, but as you grow older and more demanding of your music you begin to see how empty this song is. Sure, I danced and headbanged to it as a girl, but nowadays I turn off the radio if it comes on. You give love a bad name? More like you give rock a bad name! |
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And not to be outdone, the worm also sends his best wishes to the Irish team, with this message... let's try to keep the dream alive, huh? Best of luck to Trapp and the lads! Ole ole ole! Etc... :) |
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The worm is crushed after last night's total self-destruction of the Irish team! He doesn't even want to talk about it... |
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Once again, words and lyrics are not required. Let the music do the talking: here are three lovely instrumentals to ease you into another week. First we have Dan Fogelberg, from his collaboration with Tim Weisberg and a lovely piece called “Paris nocturne”. A classic from Elton John. Okay, it has some words at the end, but in fairness, they don't get in the way of this spectacular and moving tune. To finish up then, here's the title and closing track from Tom Waits' first album; this is, rather appropriately, “Closing time”. |
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Oh! How we danced! Well, the worm didn't, but he wriggled a lot! Unfortunately for Yazz, the title somewhat belied the truth, as this was her biggest hit. |
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Appropriate, with the Euro Championships taking place at the moment, this is the music you'll hear before each match. Why? The worm has no idea, but it's a great song. This is the Alan Parsons Project, with “Sirius”, leading into “Eye in the sky”. |
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Another from the great Dave Edmunds, this is “I hear you knockin'”. |
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Ole, ole, ole, oh look, it's over. Well, for us anyway. Can't say the boys didn't give it their all … oh, wait, you can. Pretty poor performance all round, must be our worst ever in Europe. Still, at least the fans did us proud: best in the world! This is for them, who maintained Irish pride even in the face of what has to be admitted a substandard team and a total lack of effort. Our last and enduring memory, besides four nil to Spain, and Torres bearing down on Given, will be the strains of “The fields of Athenry” being belted out across the stadium as strong and enthusiastically as if we were winning the match. Well, done, ye supporters of the boys in green! |
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If you look down past all this blurb to where the album review begins, you'll note that, like the previous and indeed first album I featured in this series, this one comes from the early eighties. Is that a coincidence? Well, no. 1980 was when I began my working life, and so became exposed to a lot more music than I had ever dreamed possible, and the early 80s was when I first dipped my toes into the hot waters of heavy metal, and found I liked it. Prior to starting work, at seventeen years of age, I had what you might call a sheltered musical upbringing. My mother's family were always having a “sing-song” whenever they gathered (which was relatively often) but they would natually sing Irish traditional songs, and songs from their own youth --- Sinatra, Holliday, Lee, things like that --- and I hated these sessions with a passion, not least of which was because I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but also I knew nothing of these artistes. They held no interest for me, brought back no memories and their music --- at least at that time --- meant nothing to me. It was long dead. (Yeah, I was immature and naïve: I was only probably fourteen or fifteen at the time though, so I have some excuse). Terrible as these sing-songs were though, there would be my uncle Reggie with his accordion, someone on a banjo; people who knew how to play music and did so pretty much effortlessly. It made me want to learn, but hey, I was a lazy teenager, and there was just no way I was ever going to put in the hours and concentration required to learn a musical instrument! I picked up a guitar once, but couldn't hold down the strings enough to make a chord: they were digging into my fingers so much that I gave up almost right away (all you guitarists are free to laugh and chuck rotten fruit). Back in our house, it was a different scene altogether. My waste-of-space father ruled with a tyrannical hand and a disarming smile that could be turned on for visitors, his hands having been only minutes before around my mother's throat. He refused to allow us any sort of “frivolous” items, so there were no record players, and few radios. There was a hulking oak (or some sort of wood; I always assumed it was oak --- looked like a direct nuclear hit wouldn't even scratch it!) gramaphone in our sitting room, and come Christmas --- and Christmas only --- it would be fired up by him and he would load on his awful, ugly 78s with names so obscure that I can't even recall them. All I remember now are labels: His Master's Voice (he had a lot of those, blue and red labels) and Decca, probably others but they're the ones that stick in my memory. The songs were bland, generic rubbish like you'd hear someone perhaps play in “It's a wonderful life”: music that harked back to a happier, simpler time, and which he no doubt thought he could revisit here, in the 1970s. Of course, those happy singers weren't beating up their wives (well, maybe they were, but it was not mentioned) and dominating their children, but hey, it was his world and that was how he chose to see it. Other than that then, we had a radio: just the one, in the kitchen, and we would be made listen to the national radio station, RTE, which played --- you guessed it --- Irish music and older stuff from the 40s and 50s. No pop music here! And the pirate radio stations, those that dared flout convention and play “questionable” music, music that wasn't seen as being fit for decent ears, were strictly banned from the dial. It was only when I managed to win my own tiny little transistor radio around 1976 that I was able to move beyond the stale confines of my father's chosen music on the radio and hear other things. One station which captured my attention and opened up a whole new musical vista for me was Radio Luxembourg, as I'm sure it holds a place in the heart of many a teenage boy or girl who would otherwise not have been aware of such music. I used to listen to this in bed, the radio pressed to my ear, its tiny, one-piece earphone jammed in my ear, the cold plastic bringing to my brain music I could never have known existed. This was my first real personal music experience, and it was mine alone, no-one could take that from me, not even him. Later my sister got her own record-player, but that was jealously guarded behind her bedroom door, so it would only be muffled melodies I would hear drifting from her room, the occasional guitar or piano passage, or a few snatches of words as her door opened as she came out then closed again, forever sealing the music in once more, like treasure glimpsed but never available. When she got married she took the record player with her. It wasn't until my father finally did the best thing he could for us (other than dying, which he unfortunately still refuses to do, with my mother over twenty years gone before him, and to I hope a much better place than he will find himself in when he can finally cheat Death no more) and left us that I was able to think about getting a record player of my own. The palpable sense of relief when he left is something I still remember today, and though I know some small part of my mam was sorry to see him go --- probably more a sense of failure on her part, though there was none, than any real regret, and sorrow too that we would all have to grow up without a father, not that we'd ever really had one, in truth --- we all rejoiced and restrictions were not only relaxed, but given a good kicking and told to get out and never come back. But enough of my family history. What that was all leading up to was that after my so-called father left, I was eventually able to get a record player and begin buying records. Of course, at the time I was still at school and had little or no money for such things, and my mother was doing her level best to make ends meet. In Ireland, there is no divorce --- wasn't then, still isn't --- and so a woman who separates from her husband is entitled to nothing from him, nor from the State. He got away scot-free, in terms of having to pay any sort of maintenance; he started a new life, while my mam did her best to hold our own lives together. It saddens me to think, not only of how hard it was for her, but of how uncaring and selfish I and my brothers were, interested only in why we couldn't have this or that, so rather than go too deeply into that I'm going to wrap this up now. I had seen the covers of Iron Maiden albums (the debut and “Killers”) and to be honest they had always scared me. I couldn't guess what the music behind those covers could be like, but I had a feeling it would be loud, raucous and nasty. For someone whose current favourite bands were Genesis and ELO, with a bit of Supertramp thrown in, that didn't sound like the sort of music I would be into. But then they appeared on “Top of the Pops”, and my worldview was turned around. Having heard “Run to the hills”, I fell instantly in love with it, with this band, with this sort of music. The image, the power, the passion, the melodies. I just loved it all. I went right out and bought this album, and it certainly changed my life. The number of the Beast --- Iron Maiden --- 1982 (EMI) http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi..._The_Beast.jpg Of course, I didn't know it at the time, not having heard the other two albums they had put out, but Maiden had just gone through a major lineup change and were heading in a new commercial direction that would take them to the very top of the heavy metal tree, influence a generation and make them the best known and loved metal band in the country, and then the world. Fresh from his previous band, Samson, singer Bruce Dickinson had replaced Paul Di'Anno, whose more gutteral, punk-styled vocals had certainly suited the more visceral, angry and punkish two previous albums, even though on “Killers” you could see early evidence of Iron Maiden's shift towards more melodic, insightful songs and away from the somewhat thrash metal of the debut. It was also the last album to feature Clive Burr on drums (though what a way to make your exit!) and the first to include lyrics by Adrian Smith, as well as a contribution by the departing drummer to the final track. Although lambasted as an “album for devil worshippers” by the ever-funny Religious Right and their cohorts, “The number of the Beast” has no songs about Satan, other than the title track, and that's based on a nightmare Steve Harris had after watching “The omen”. The album sleeve probably doesn't help to dispell this myth, of course, but then, Maiden were never about backing down in the face of controversy. The album also features a lot of songwriting by Dickinson, though due to contractual obligations with Samson he was not allowed to be credited for them, but when you look at later Maiden albums on which he was credited, the evidence of his influence on the lyrics on this album is certainly there. The album opens strongly, with the pounding drums of Burr and the twin guitar attack of Adrian Smith and Dave Murray, with “Invaders” detailing the attack of vikings on a small English town. Dickinson's different vocal style to Di'Anno's is immediately evident; more controlled, fluid, sounding more trained and professional. The song is hardly a masterpiece, being a general metal song of marauders, though seen through the eyes of the invaded rather than the attackers, almost narrated as either a warning or even a bulletin: ”They're coming over the hills!/ They're gonna attack!/ They're coming in for the kill!/ There's no turning back!” It dashes along at breakneck pace, the sense of panic and fear transmitted through both the music and Dickinson's shouts of warning. Of course, the vikings, having attacked, later settled in England (and Ireland), but naturally that's not mentioned in the lyric. Wouldn't have looked too good, would it? ”Invaders! Settling down!/ Invaders! Raising a family!” :) Great guitar solo in the middle, and then things slow down for “Children of the damned”, based on the John Wyndham novel “The Midwich Cuckoos”, with a slow strummed guitar while another wails in counterpoint, and Dickinson sings in an almost tender voice, pumping it up for the chorus. It's almost a ballad, but then halfway through it picks up speed, changing direction to perhaps mirror the burning of the man in the lyric, as Dickinson asks ”He's dust on the ground/ What have we learned?” Another great solo and the song powers along to its climax, a change which really took me by surprise when I first heard it. It's also the first time we get to really hear that “air-raid siren” voice that was to earn Dickinson the nickname, as he screams out the ending. Having asked permission of the star of the original show, Patrick McGoohan, to use a clip from the intro to the TV series, “The Prisoner” begins as a slower cruncher, with Dickinson as the title protagonist vowing he will get away and take revenge on the people who put him in “The Village”. It quickly ramps up though, and becomes a rocking metal song, with a lyric which would be revisited in some form later, in songs like “The fugitive” and of course “Back in the village”. There's a long guitar part in the fourth minute which allows Murray and Smith to further hone their partnership, then chugging guitar takes us into “22 Acacia Avenue”, which is in fact a continuation of the song written by Dave Murray on the debut, and originally written by Smith for his previous band. It's a really interesting track, as it goes through a total change halfway through, both musically and lyrically. When it starts, it's a simple recommendation for Charlotte, a well-known prostitute who will do just about anything: ”Beat her, mistreat her/ Do anything you please/ Bite her, excite her/ Make her get down on her knees!” and sung with lascivious pleasure and heavy metal chauvinism by Dickinson, but halfway through it becomes something much more, as Bruce pleads with Charlotte to give up this life and come away with him. He tries to point out to her the dangers in the career she has chosen, and eventually as the guitars power away excitedly behind him, decides to take the initiative and pack her bags for her. In this way, Iron Maiden exploded the accepted image of metal, and indeed, rock bands, who generally if they wrote about women did so in an exploitative way, grinning at their helplessness, seeing them only as objects of pleasure. This is probably not the first song to do so, but it was certainly my first experience of a rock band empowering, to some extent, a woman, especially a lady of the night, trying to get inside her head rather than just her knickers, and saying something positive, important and relevant about these women, the majority of whom do not choose this path, but are left with no choice if they want to survive. Iron Maiden became, I believe (with hindsight of course), with this one song, the “thinking man's heavy metal band”. Although they had wanted horror icon Vincent Price to intone the opening to the title track, a quote from the Book of Revelations, they could not afford his, er, price, and so another actor was chosen, but he does a very good job declaring how the Beast will be recognised, by the number 666. The song powers along on hot guitar work from Smith and Murray, a real headbanger with some great solos, and the lyric certainly seems to concern satanic worship, which is obviously why the guardians of morality came down so hard on Iron Maiden. It's a great title track, and made a great single, but it was the next one that gave them their first hit top ten single, and indeed, as mentioned, the track that encouraged me to go out and buy this album, and so start a lifelong love affair with this band. Heavy thumping drums and squealing guitars that sound like horses, or Indian braves whooping (yes, I know they're supposed to be called Native Americans. Sue me.) open the song, then the guitars get going and Burr's drums trundle along like a steam locomotive, as Dickinson relates the tale of the ethnic cleansing of the Native Americans (there! Happy?) from the Old West by the white man: ”Selling them whiskey/ Taking their gold/ Enslaving the young/ And destroying the old”. In the middle of a heavy guitar build-up, Bruce again winds up that powerful voice as the song rockets along, but it's in the closing that he really gives it free rein, reaching notes even the late Bee Gees would probably be proud of! If there's a weak track on the album --- I say if --- then it's “Gangland”. It's fast and heavy enough, and it's not filler by any means, but against the other excellent tracks on this it just doesn't cut it for me. It sounds more like something that would have been more comfortable on “Killers” or even the debut, and in fact the main melody is very similar to “Invaders”, with the lyric certainly lacking: ”Dead men tell no tales/ In Gangland/ Murder's up for sale!” It's perhaps telling that this is the only song on “The number of the Beast” that features no songwriting at all from Steve Harris, who keeps a fairly tight rein on things otherwise, either writing or co-writing every track. The difference is immediately evident when we hit the closer. One of the most famous and loved Iron Maiden songs, “Hallowed be thy name” has gone down as a must-play at almost every gig ever since, and is indeed one of the band's own favourites. The closest they come to progressive metal here, it's the longest track on the album by some way, clocking in at over seven minutes, and starting off with slow doomy guitar and dark, pealing bells as Dickinson takes the persona of a criminal waiting to be hanged. Shortly, as Bruce's voice rises, the guitars wind up and get faster and more powerful, the whole song taking off into perhaps the second movement where Bruce shouts out his desperation against mostly start/stop guitar, then there's a pretty long instrumental as the guitars of Smith and Murray take the song into its third minute. Dickinson comes back in then for the final verse as he is marched to the gallows, and the twin guitar attack runs with the song to almost the end, getting more and more intense, with solos and changes as it goes along, until Dickinson finally comes in at the end with a heartfelt rendition of the title, more pealing bells and a final machine-gun volley from drums and guitar to end the song, and take the album to an incredibly satisfying close. Did this album, then, change my life because it introduced me to Iron Maiden? Well, yes, partly, but more importantly, it showed me that you literally could not judge a book by its cover, nor an album by what was on the outside. I had looked at Iron Maiden albums before, as I said at the beginning, and been disgusted and a little scared, certainly put off by what I had seen, and truth to tell, the sleeve of “The number of the Beast” doesn't do much to assuage that. But the music I found within, both in this album and in earlier Maiden releases, when I went back to them, hungry for more (and a little disappointed to find Dickinson did not feature and the music was markedly different) showed me that sometimes, it's worth walking into that dark room or opening that box, for who knows what you might miss otherwise? But more than that, this album showed me that I was probably going to love heavy metal, if it was all like this. And I did. Bands like Saxon, Tygers of Pan-Tang and Black Sabbath followed, then Rainbow and later Dio, Def Leppard, Anvil, Diamond Head, Tank, Lizzy, Y&T all followed as the world of heavy metal and hard rock opened up to me like some dark, loud, enticing flower. I still listen to metal today, though there is a lot of it I don't like, but this was my baptism, my induction into the hallowed halls of the heavy, and it began a love of the music of Iron Maiden that has lasted to this day, and an enduring love of heavy metal and rock music. For that, I will always be grateful, and I will always look upon this album as one that changed my life. TRACKLISTING 1. Invaders 2. Children of the damned 3. The Prisoner 4. 22 Acacia Avenue 5. The number of the Beast 6. Run to the hills 7. Gangland 8. Hallowed be thy name |
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One of the most innovative videos of its time (and not a bad song either), here's Peter Gabriel... |
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Something nice and relaxing for a Sunday afternoon, here's Simon and Garfunkel. |
This is serious --- Marilyn Martin --- 1988 (Atlantic)
http://c3.cduniverse.ws/CDUCoverArt/...01/7327301.jpg Those few of you who even remember the name will probably recall the hit Marilyn had with Phil Collins, on the single “Separate lives”, and in truth though she was thought to be destined for big things, this, her second album, was her last, as the label dropped her on the back of poor sales. It's not a bad album though, and it certainly has its moments, but to be honest it was never going to set the world on fire. Even the inclusion of a song co-written by Madonna was unable to interest the record-buying public in this album, and in my own case I must admit I really bought it only out of curiosity, having heard her on the abovementioned duet with Collins. It's that Madonna-penned song that opens the album, and perhaps that's a bad move, as it's very dance-oriented, quite throwaway and not at all representative of the quality this album often shines through with. But first impressions last, and anyone hearing “Possessive love” is likely to have thought here we go, another disco diva who thinks she's a star. It's the sort of song any female singer you care to mention could make work, as in it hasn't got too much about it, and I'm actually quite surprised to find that Madge was involved, as it's really pretty sub-par. But things don't stay that way for long, and the title track, up next, ups the ante a little, giving more of a glimpse into the sort of music this woman could make. It's still poppy and dancy, but puts me more in mind of the likes of the late Laura Branigan with a more, well, serious track, some very good guitar throughout the song, though who plays what seems to be a closely guarded secret. Marilyn's voice here is more ragged, raunchy and you can hear her love for rhythm and blues coming through, very sultry and with a lot more swagger. My old friends Terry Britten and Graham Lyle, who so damned the first half of the recently-reviewed “Break every rule” for Tina Turner, are back to pen another weak song for Marilyn, and again “Best is yet to come” is almost worth skipping, though at least the title does hint at the truth. Very dancy, very bland, very Britten/Lyle. Thankfully, that all changes with the introduction of “Quiet desperation”, the first of two ballads on the album. With a gentle, rippling keyboard melody carrying the tune, this is where Martin shines as she takes it down several notches, cutting back on the raunch and allowing her own naturally smoky sensuality to bleed through, imbuing this song with all the heart and passion she can muster, almost emulating the power and passion of Sam Brown. Lovely emotional little guitar solo and some measured drumming move the track along as it reaches its halfway point, but they never attempt to take it over, and the simple keyboard line drives the song into the instrumental ending, which takes up almost two of the five minutes and change the track runs for. After that tour-de-force, Martin kicks out the stays and rocks out hard for “Lay me down”, perhaps one of the rockiest tracks on the album, and certainly one of the standouts. With a hard guitar and organ opening, it's suffused by pure joy and wild abandon as Marilyn plays the rock chick to perfection, letting her wild side out, her voice rising to meet the highest registers in the song, with some great soul-style backing vocals and a ripping guitar solo. “Love takes no prisoners” scales back the rock a little, with a dance beat but still some decent guitar, a real air of Prince about it, circa “Sign o' the times”, then it's kind of a Huey Lewis mix of pop and AOR for “Try me”, very catchy with some stabbing keyboard chords and a busy bassline. Much of the blame for Martin's lack of success must surely lie with Atlantic, who decided to showcase her talent by releasing two singles from the album, choosing the boring soundalike opener and following it up with “Love takes no prisoners”, thereby giving perhaps people the wrong impression of this artiste, while ignoring better tracks like “Lay me down” and “Homeless”. I don't consider either single to be properly representative of Marilyn Martin, and I really believe they missed an important point, and a chance maybe for her to break big. As it is, we continue on with the boppy “The wait is over”, again quite dancy and with a drumbeat that slightly echoes Phil Collins' “You can't hurry love”, but with some pretty impressive guitar which largely goes unnoticed, and uncredited. The second ballad comes in the form of “Homeless”, where again Marilyn reduces everything to basics, with a quiet digital piano melody almost like someone walking, short, booming percussion and a passionate and aching vocal as she relates the tale of homeless people better than, I believe, “Another day in Paradise” ever managed. With the instrumentation so sparse and measured, it's left to her to carry the song, which she does in a voice almost cracking with emotion, some very nice backing vocals and then a beautiful little burst of Spanish guitar, and the album closes very well on an AOR tune which again recalls the best of Branigan, as “Pretender” brings down the curtain. Dropped by her label, disappointed with her lack of success after her one big shot with Collins on the number one single “Separate lives”, Marilyn Martin went back to her original career as a backup singer, a position from which she had been “discovered” by head of Atlantic Records, Doug Morris, who thought he saw something in her that should be encouraged. Sadly, her attempt to break into the big time faltered after two albums, and she eventually got out of the music business entirely. Nevertheless, though this may not be by any means a perfect album, it's a short glimpse into something that could have been big, a talent that could, perhaps, had it been handled and managed better, have blossomed into something quite remarkable. This could, indeed, have been serious. But it wasn't to be, and after dabbling in the music world for a few years, Marilyn decided her future lay elsewhere. TRACKLISTING 1. Possessive love 2. This is serious 3. Best is yet to come 4. Quiet desperation 5. Lay me down 6. Love takes no prisoners 7. Try me 8. The wait is over 9. Homeless 10. Pretender |
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Here's an old one for ya: this is a band called Marmalade (goes great with the morning toast, the worm is reliably informed!) and a song called “Reflections of my life”. |
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Hey, what better way to start your week than with a big ol' slice of cheese? Never quite sure where the word came from, when I think about it. Some people love cheese (to eat), and some hate it, but then, you could say that of many foods. Cheese can sometimes make you wince a little, so maybe it's that? If anyone has any information on how we ended up associating cheese with overblown, overdone or over-sentimental music, perhaps they'd drop me a line and let me know? At any rate, this week's selection comes from Berlin, and couldn't be cheesier. From a movie which, though it essentially made a young actor called Tom Cruise, and fuelled a new generation of gung-ho kids who thought they all could fly a fighter aircraft, and that it was the coolest thing in the world, is pretty laughable. The movie basically glorified air combat, and made everyone, not just military nerds and planespotters, suddenly aware of what the Grumman F-14 Tomcat looked like. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...ngle_Cover.jpg Take my breath away (Berlin) 1986 Yeah, strange coincidence that this single hit the charts the same year as last week's introductory “Cheese of the week”, Bon Jovi's “You give love a bad name”: guess '86 was a good year for cheese. Or bad, depending on what way you look at it. In fact, glancing at the charts for that year I can see at least a dozen singles in one month that could all qualify as best (or worst) quality Edam. What a year! But back to this selection. So suddenly, everyone and their mother were an expert on US military aircraft, and war was just one big ol' video game, played for kicks. This was all bad enough, given that four years later these selfsame fighter jets would be streaking over the Arabian peninsula, paving the way for the Gulf War and the eventual emergence of George Bush's warmongering progeny. But politics aside, it's still a terrible song. Written by Giorgio Moroder and Tom Whitlock, it's a sappy love anthem which gave Berlin their only hit (number one on both sides of the Atlantic!) and also served to paint them as a soft-rock band, which they are not. From the opening deep breathy synths to the tinkling digital piano to the ridiculously overblown video where Terri Nunn, lead singer with Berlin, stands atop an aircraft that, for some reason, is quite clearly not an F-14, this song has cheese written all over it. Ask anyone about the band Berlin, this is all they'll be able to tell you in nine out of ten cases, but the album this came from was a whole lot better than this. Nunn's voice is beautifully soulful, certainly, and powerful as the jet fighter in the video, with certainly a lot more emotion in it than Cruise ever displayed in the movie, but I can't ever hear the opening chords of this song without inwardly cringing and just quickly turning the dial. |
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One of the scariest singers anywhere, this is Grace Jones, with “Pull up to the bumper”. |
Strong persuader --- Robert Cray --- 1986 (Mercury)
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi..._persuader.JPG One of the most influential blues guitar players of the last thirty or so years, Robert Cray has received five Grammy awards and just last year was inducted into the Blues Hall of Fame. He has been into blues guitar since he was young and has played with the likes of John Lee Hooker, Albert Collins and Eric Clapton, and has lent his name to a signature Stratocaster. This is his fifth of almost twenty albums recorded over the last more than thirty years. To be honest, I bought this on the recommendations of a workmate, who was totally into blues, but when I played it the first time I wasn't overly impressed with it. Of course, back then I was only in my mid-twenties, and in the throes of coming out of an obsession with heavy metal, and running headlong into another, this time with progressive rock, so perhaps this just did not sit well with where I was at the time, musical appreciation wise. It starts off well, rockin' with “Smoking gun”, some really low-key organ adding to the squeal of Cray's guitar, and his vocals are certainly up to scratch, sort of reminds me of the late Gary Moore in places. It's a good fast opener, and certainly grabs the attention, while trumpet and trombone from Wayne Jackson forms the backdrop for “I guess I showed her”, a bit slower and a bit more Chicago than Delta blues, with a good splash of New Orleans jazz thrown in. Cray's guitar of course plays a central role, but this song is less based around that than the brass, with a lyric in which Cray tries to convince himself that he's better off without his woman, and that she has got the worst of the deal:”She can have the house/ She can have the car/ I'm content with this motel room...” The next one up is one of the standouts, but for all that takes second place for the most selfish lyrics I've ever heard in a song, just behind Robert Johns' “Sad eyes”, and in effect it's the title track, although it's actually called “Right next door (Because of me)”. It concerns Cray's successful attempt to woo the wife of his neighbour, and once he has done so, he loses interest in her but listens to the argument as the couple fight it out. ”She was right next door/ And I'm such a strong persuader/ She was just another notch/ On my guitar.” It's played in a mid-paced fashion, with a lot of guitar, and no real sense of regret in Cray's lyric. Cray writes or co-writes every track on the album, and indeed “Nothin' but a woman” is the last on which he collaborates, the final six all being his solo efforts. With a strong flavour of Creedence in the tune, he's joined on this by the Memphis Horns, and it's great blues fun, the guitar again pushed a little to the side in favour of the energetic brass section. Cray does his best BB King on “Still around”, with a striding, walking rhythm and some soulful organ, and here again we get a great tasteful little solo from the man, and the horns are back in control, this time courtesy of Wayne Jackson and Andrew Love, for the somewhat underwhelming “More than I can stand”, while “Foul play” is a lot better. A classic blues “suspicion” song, again reminding me of the dear departed Moore, with a solid guitar line and a sharp, acid vocal from Robert Cray, some nice keyboard and piano backup and a good backbeat. Of course, no blues album would be complete without a ballad, and this is what we get with “I wonder”. A great, slow, meaty ballad with a superb lazy guitar line winding through it, it's almost the track I've been waiting for, and definitely one of my favourites on the album, if not the standout. Backed by Peter Boe on the organ it's close to perfect, Cray's wounded vocal laying the final veneer on a really classic blues ballad. Two fairly ok tracks then to close: “Fantasized” is good blues rock, with some great solos and a cool almost soul piano melody, while “New blood” is a thick, heavy blues slowburner with some very Rory Gallagher style guitar and a last appearance for the trumpet of Wayne Jackson. It's a good album, but even though back then I was somewhat lacking in my appreciation of the blues, I wonder if it's anywhere close to seen as his best? The songs on the album are, mostly, fairly generic blues and I'm pretty sure that Cray is a lot better than this. He's had plenty of albums since and a few before, so maybe I just picked the wrong one. However, I remain a little disappointed at the lack of variety in the album, and I would have liked one or two more ballads. For all that though, it's certainly worth listening to. Whether there are better Robert Cray albums to start with, is a question I can't answer. Maybe someone out there can? TRACKLISTING 1. Smoking gun 2. I guess I showed her 3. Right next door (Because of me) 4. Nothin' but a woman 5. Still around 6. More than I can stand 7. Foul play 8. I wonder 9. Fantasized 10. New blood |
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I'm sure it's happened to you: you're listening to a song and really getting into it. You think you have a good idea how it's going to finish, then BAM! It completely changes. I've listened to many songs that have just totally disappointed with the ending. It hasn't always ruined the song for me, but it has been a big let-down. Of course, I'm no songwriter and have the utmost respect for those who can master this difficult art, but it is annoying when a song changes tack completely or goes off in some direction you don't expect, ends abruptly when you thought it should fade, or just fails to live up to the expectations you've built up for it over the course of the song's length. Objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are Meat Loaf Bat out of Hell II: Back into Hell (1993) Written by: Jim Steinman http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...of_Hell_II.jpg One of the standout tracks on the “follow-up” to “Bat out of Hell”, this song wins the award for longest song title ever as far as I'm concerned, and it's quite amazing and impressive how Steinman worked the whole title into the melody of the lyric; it really flows, and you wouldn't expect something that long to do that. The song itself is a brilliant power ballad, detailing Steinman's and/or Meat Loaf's childhood, and showing how far he has come, but that images from the past still intrude on his life today. There are three main influences on his life, each afforded a verse of the song. The first is his friend Kenny, who died in an accident --- ”They said he crashed and burned/ I know I've never learned/ Why any boy could die so young!” --- the second his abusive father --- ”My father's eyes were blank as he hit me/ Again and again and again” --- and the third his lover, who appears to have been the one to have shown him about love --- ”She taught me all I'll ever know/ About the mystery and the muscle of love.” It's an excellent song, with some seriously powerful imagery, lines like ”If life is just a highway/ Then the soul is just a car” the sort of thing you'd expect from Jim Steinman. Particularly effective is the passage where the singer envisages his father (probably dead now, but certainly left behind) trying to claw him back into his dark, abusive world: ”And though the nightmare should be over/ Somehow the terrors are still intact/ I'll hear that ugly coarse and violent voice/ And then he grabs me from behind/ And then he pulls me back!” But it ends badly, at least I think it does. As the song begins to fade out on piano and vocal, with accompanying choral vocals, Meat Loaf sings the opening four lines with just the piano, and then just stops in the middle of the verse. I find it a terrible ending, very anticlimactic, considering how it builds to a stupendous crescendo of music and emotion at the end, then just tails off as if Steinman wasn't sure how it should be ended. Well, I would have ended it either in a piano fadeout, right down, or at least, if the opening verse had to be quoted, finish it, which would have sounded much better. I just hate the way it ends, and I wish Steinman had paid more attention to its conclusion. Often how a song ends is at least as important, to me anyway, as how it begins and how it develops. A bad ending can ruin a song for me, and while this doesn't ruin “Objects...” it does ultimately let it down at the very last. |
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Well, they're not worms, but they are turtles, so the worm guesses we have some sort of connection: probably on mother's side... Hey, wait a minute! They're not turtles! They're just mock turtles! Of all the ... |
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Choosing a song title with just the one word is perhaps not a smart move. There are bound to be other people who have thought about using it before you, and so much more so when the word is used so often as a request, often a plea. Therefore it's not at all surprising to find that there are literally dozens of songs which all have the title “Stay”, spread across various genres. I'm concentrating here purely on songs that have only that one word in the title, not including songs that include the word stay, such as “Stay with me”, “If you let me stay”, “Let's stay together” and probably hundreds more. Even so, there's a long list. Stay (Shakespears Sister) from “Hormonally yours” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...ister_Stay.jpg One of the best known is the hit by Shakespears Sister, featuring ex-Bananarama girl Siobhan Fahey. It's notable for its dual vocal, where theother half of the duo, Marcella Detroit, plays the distraught girlfriend trying to save her dying man, with the role of the dark angel trying to steal him going to Fahey, in a brilliantly nightmarish performance in the music video. Stay (David Bowie) from “Station to station”. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...-Bowiestay.jpg Generally accepted as one of Bowie's top albums, “Station to station”, released in 1976, has a track on it which was released as a single and also has the title “Stay”. It's quite similar to a previous hit of his, “John, I'm only dancing”. Stay (Eternal) from “Always and forever” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...ernal_stay.jpg Not a band I have too much truck with, Eternal nevertheless should be included as their single went into the top five, and was in fact their first hit single. Stay (Jackson Browne) from “Running on empty” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...g_on_Empty.jpg One of the first --- all right, the first --- of Jackson Browne's songs I ever heard, this was originally recorded by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs back in 1960, when it hit number one. Browne's version, performed live and segueing from the closer on the album, “The load-out”, just narrowly missed the top ten. Stay (Stephen Gately) from “New beginning” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...220px-Stay.jpg They even used it in the tired old world of boybands, when ex-Boyzone member, the late Stephen Gately, struck out on his own, his single again missing the top ten, though not by much. Due to his tragic and untimely passing in 2009 though, this would be Gately's only solo album. Stay (Agnetha Faltskog) from “Wrap your arms around me” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...apyourarms.jpg My old mucker Agnetha from ABBA also had a track called “Stay” on her debut album, well, debut in English anyway. Unlike all the others above, this was never released as a single. Stay (Madonna) from “Like a virgin” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...Virgin1984.png Another famous female act, Madonna also included a song with that title on her controversial and breakthrough album, “Like a virgin”. Stay (The Blue Nile) from “Walking across the rooftops” http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...WalkAcross.jpg And we couldn't end without a look at the second single taken from the debut album by The Blue Nile. Although this one was released as a single, it just barely scraped into the top 100. |
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Love this version of the old classic, this is Amii Stewart with “Knock on wood”. Ooh yeah baby! |
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