Saturday 30 September 2023

Rules of the road don't apply?


My kind of cyclists

Riding a bicycle means you can ignore rules that apply to other road-users, like cars, motorbikes, buses or pedestrians. Cyclist Tom Logan explains:

Riding on the pavement
A bike is like a Transformer – it gets the best of both worlds. On the road? You should be accorded the same respect as a car. Road busy? Mount the pavement and you’re a two-wheeled pedestrian. After all, it’s not like you’ve got a polluting motor. Nobody complains about wheelchairs on the pavement, do they?

Optional traffic lights
I’m all in favour of cyclists stopping at red lights if they need a bit of a breather. It sets a good example to motorists, after all. But it’s by no means a necessity and they’re a better judge of whether it’s safe to go through or not than any mere system of lights. And come on, there’s no law against it.

Warning others of your approach
It’s your duty, whether you’re in a car or on foot, to be alert for cyclists. A full-grown man in Lycra riding a £1,500 carbon-fibre hybrid can’t be ringing a little bell like he’s an eight-year-old girl. If you don’t move out of the way fast enough and you’re hit by a cyclist, you’re fully liable. That helmet cam will have recorded all the evidence and it’ll be on Instagram.

Ignoring one-way signs
Those restrictions are for idiots driving death machines, not sober, responsible cyclists. We’re above all that, and have a perfect right to weave in and out of oncoming traffic to show off our silky skills. If you hit us you’ll lose their licence, and it’ll be your own fault when you have to get the bus to work.

Undertaking
Cars are forbidden from passing each other in the inside lane, and rightly so, the ignorant, dangerous petrolheads. It’s different for cyclists because we’re so much more important. Yes, drivers find it humiliating and emasculating when we zips by as you wait in traffic, and so you should. You’re inferior by every measure that counts.

Being visible
If a cyclist wants to wear six lights, flashing aggressively and confusing everyone, on their hi-viz that’s their right. If they want to wear all black and go lights-free like a stealth bomber, it remains a cyclists’ prerogative. They’re our roads. We merely allow you to share them.

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Friday 29 September 2023

It takes two to make it out of sight

Yay! A weekend beckons, and it has every chance of being a lovely warm one. TFFT. This week's been a drag [and not in a feather-boa-mascara-and-heels sort of way]! Speaking of which...

Ever wondered where Michelle Visage - RuPaul's "right-hand woman", unofficial "sixth member of Steps" and BBC Radio 2 DJ - started?

Here! [She's the blonde one.]

Thank Disco Madonna-wannabees It's Friday!

Fuck. How much more Eighties could that possibly be?

Have a great weekend, dear reader!

Thursday 28 September 2023

Today's headlines

[click to embiggen]

Wednesday 27 September 2023

Chain, chain, chain

And so, we discover from her comment on Monday's post that Ms Scarlet eschews all things Northern Soul and is in fact a "rock chick"! Who would have guessed it? [So nothing like Ms First Nations portrays her at all.]

Maybe she'll like this one?!

More brilliant work by Bill McClintock!

Tuesday 26 September 2023

The Fantastic Mr Foxx


Cheekbones. Whatever happened to them?

Another day, another shudder goes down my spine as I realise how old everyone is getting (including me).

For today it is the 75th birthday of Mr Dennis Leigh - better known of course as synthesizer aficionado, original vocalist and founder-member of Ultravox, John Foxx!

It seems like only yesterday that I almost fell off my chair - electronic music freak that I was (am) - when I first heard this, his magnificent debut solo hit [and almost immediately had to go to Roxcene Records in Newport to buy the 7" single! I still have it.]:

On investigating his career [prompted by the fact he had been cited several times by none other than my idol Gary Numan as being as great an influence on him as Kraftwerk], I came across - and immediately fell in love with - this [the best song Ultravox ever created, in my opinion]:

Somehow we drifted off too far
Communicate like distant stars
Splintered voices down the 'phone

The sunlit dust, the smell of roses drifts, oh no
Someone waits behind the door
Hiroshima mon amour

Riding inter-city trains
Dressed in European grey
Riding out to echo beach

A million memories in the trees and sands, oh no
How can I ever let them go?
Hiroshima mon amour

Meet beneath the autumn lake
Where only echoes penetrate
Walk through Polaroids of the past

Future's fused like shattered glass, the sun's so low
Turns our silhouettes to gold
Hiroshima mon amour

Nostalgia. It ain't what it used to be... Sigh.

Many happy returns, John Foxx (born 26th September 1948)!

Monday 25 September 2023

Not so much "Cuando", but "Por qué?"


Monday again...

You know you're getting old when...

...you discover that former heartthrob Ian Ogilvy (aka "The Saint" in the 1980s revamp series), the effervescent Miss Toni Basil, and the "great Spanish seducer" Julio Iglesias are all 80 years old! Gulp.

It is (inevitably) to the latter to whom we turn for today's "wake-up call" this Tacky Music Monday - and this number from his 1970s telly show certainly is a complete mindfuck! Enjoy...

Whatever the hell was going on there, I am pretty certain some very heavy psychedelic drugs were involved.

Have a good week, dear reader...

Sunday 24 September 2023

Talcum Time! *

The champagne amphetamine's been flowing throughout 2023 in celebration of the legendary Wigan Casino Club, which launched its very first "Northern Soul all-nighter" fifty years ago - at 2am on Sunday 23rd September 1973, to be precise.

Auntie Beeb's certainly been heavily featuring this remarkable genre - the meld of obscure non-chart uptempo American black music and an underground scene that saw punters travel across huge swathes of the North of England in the middle of the night (after conventional pubs and clubs had closed) to dance their tits off until dawn! Indeed, it is a recent BBC article that has prompted me to locate and play for you the tracks on their "Wigan Casino classics" list...:

  • NB Mr Wilson's record became the most sought-after, and the most expensive 7" single ever - see here for more.

And "three before eight" - three closing songs played before 08:00:

"And what do we say, Malcolm?"
"We say 'Keep the Faith', Paul!"
**

Notes:

  • * "Talcum Time" refers to the alleged practice of scattering talc on the damcefloor to help with some of the punters' sliding dance moves. It could well be an "urban myth" to cover up a nickname for another widely-used white powder found in the clubs.
  • ** Much like the term "Northern Soul" itself, it was soul music aficionado and journalist Dave Godin whose regular use of the term "Keep the Faith" led to it - and the famous clenched fist logo first used by the US Black Panthers - becoming the slogan for the whole scene. Paul O'Grady (and his producer Malcolm Prince) used to have this exchange on his Radio 2 show after his weekly Northern Soul slot.

Saturday 23 September 2023

Helps you forget all the things you regret

Our little gang is gathering once more - in another of our fave haunts The Perseverance near Great Ormond Street today, by way of a (late) celebration of The History Boy's 50th birthday.

Much jolly japes, and maybe even a film or two, to look forward to, methinks!

Here's a most appropriate party number, knowing our friends...

Sláinte mo cara!

Friday 22 September 2023

See me, feel me, hear me, love me, touch me



A long, autumnal, miserable week draws to its welcome close, and it's time to sparkle!

It may be somewhat impractical, however, to suggest that we choose to dress up in an outfit like Miss Dee D Jackson - she was definitely a one-off...

Let us instead merely marvel at the glory that is her one and only UK hit Automatic Lover, and Thank Disco It's Friday!


Have a great weekend, folks!

Dee D Jackson


[PS: Eagle-eyed viewers might have spotted the fact that this is indeed another recycled post from @decadeago. Some weather patterns never change, it seems.]

Thursday 21 September 2023

Pour Moi, Moi, Moi, Moi, Moi!

Another day, and another obscure piece of news inspires me - that of the departure for Fabulon of one Lou Deprijck.

Who? I hear you ask...

Mr Deprijck was rather recherché, even by Belgian standards - songwriter, singer, surrealist, collaborator with the avant-garde film director Jan Bucquoy, co-founder of The Underwear Museum [yes! it does exist], occasionally known as Billy Belushi, Charlie Brown Family or J.P. Hawks...

...and the man behind myriad hits, including this:

...and, best of all - this old fave, a classic if ever there was one!

Oh, how we loved it! [Allegedly, it's not M Bertrand singing on it at all, it was actually Mr Deprijck.]

RIP, Francis Jean "Lou" Deprijck (11th January 1946 – 19th September 2023)

Wednesday 20 September 2023

No matter how much you want to resemble a startled pony

A woman's face has suffered irreparable structural damage due to the insupportable weight of her false eyelashes.

Lauren Hewitt, aged 22, had plastered her face with thick layers of foundation to try and bolster the eyelashes but the entirety of her face has now fallen in.

Dr Helen Archer, a consultant at A&E, said: “The foundation initially provided a structural counterbalance to the eyelashes, which were each two inches long and weighed 50g.

“That’s 49g more than eyelashes should weigh. But her chunky earrings, hair extensions and shitloads of dark-toned eyebrow gel only tipped things further. A thick layer of VolumeCare+ mascara was the final straw.

“She survived three hours but when she finally had to blink her face imploded under the pressure. We’ve managed to reconstruct it to some extent, but she’ll be looking out from behind scaffolding for the next six months.

“Let this be a warning to other young women. No matter how much you want to resemble a startled pony, wearing lashes thick enough to roll a bowling bowl down has consequences.”


An unrepentant Hewitt said: “Yeah, so the doctor’s just jealous? Of how gorgeous I look?”

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Tuesday 19 September 2023

Seamen on the Poop-Deck

Ahoy, Ye Landlubbers!

It might well be Jarvis Cocker's (gulp!) 60th birthday, Jeremy Irons' (gulp) 75th, and David McCallum's (bigger gulp) 90th, as well as the birthdays of Kate Adie, Nile Rodgers, Twiggy, Freda Payne, Lol Creme of 10CC, Zandra Rhodes, Rosemary Harris and the late, great Mama Cass. It may be Independence Day in St Kitts and Nevis, World Reflexology Week and indeed Organic September...

However, there really is only one reason [as Mr Peenee recently reminded us] to celebrate today - it's International Talk Like a Pirate Day!!

Arrrr!

Without further ado, here's a jolly little sing-a-long that I deem to be most appropriate for this - ahem!! - serene and respectful day.

All together, now!

'Twas on the good ship Venus
By Christ, you should've seen us
The figurehead was a whore in bed
And the mast was a mammoth penis

The captain of this lugger
He was a dirty bugger
He wasn't fit to shovel shit
From one place to another

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do!

The captain's name was Morgan
By Christ, he was a gorgon
Ten times a day sweet tunes he'd play
On his fucking organ

The first mate's name was Cooper
By Christ he was a trooper.
He jerked and jerked until he worked
Himself into a stupor

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do!


The second mate was Andy
By Christ, he had a dandy
Till they crushed his cock with a jagged rock
For cumming in the brandy

The cabin boy was Flipper
He was a fucking nipper
He stuffed his ass with broken glass
And circumcised the skipper

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do!


The Captain's wife was Mabel
To fuck she was not able
So the dirty shits, they nailed her tits
Across the bar-room table

The Captain had a daughter
Who fell in deep sea water
Delighted squeals revealed that eels
Had found 'er sexual quarters

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do!

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum.

Indeed.

Monday 18 September 2023

Of thunder and bored clowns

We had a really nasty thunderstorm last night - the sort I remember from my childhood atop high ground in Wales, where the lightning actually seemed to be all around, rather than up in the sky where it belongs. That's the "Indian Summer" well-and-truly over, then...

And so, another week of unadulterated joy in work begins. However, we have booked our holiday in Anadalusia next February - and, that being the occasion of Madam Arcati's 65th, some of our "gang" - Baby Steve, Alex, Our Sal, Lou, and his sister Carol and niece Jen - have also booked apartments and will be there to join the festivities! So that's something to look forward to, at least.

Fortuitously on this Tacky Music Monday, we have something typically bewildering from Spain to provide our "wake-up call":

WTF? Is it just me, or does no-one except perhaps the singer seem to be enjoying themselves? And why the "clown bald wig"? Questions, questions...

Have a good week, dear reader.

Sunday 17 September 2023

No more, no more, no more, no more

I'm mightily peeved! One of my favourite YouTube sites of them all, the marvellous Soft Tempo Lounge has (for some mysterious and unexplained reason, as per usual) fallen foul of the inscrutable gnomes at Google and has been closed down for good.

As you wil be aware, dear reader, STL's cleverly-spliced snippets of impossibly glamorous people cavorting in exotic climes, set to some obscure lounge music, have been a mainstay of this very blog. In one fell swoop, ten years' worth of regular blog posts have now been ruined. [I managed to salvage a couple by uploading videos I had downloaded, and a few others are still OK because they feature videos from a previous "incarnation" of the STL channel, but still...]

Sigh.

Never mind, eh? How about some "Sunday Music" - courtesy of a German combo, with a classic Ray Charles R&B number, sung in Portuguese?!

That'll do nicely...

Fabulosa!

Saturday 16 September 2023

Grito de Dolores

This could well be my day! It's apparently the commemoration of "The Cry of Dolores" - when in 1810 a local priest rang his church bell and gave the call to arms that triggered the Mexican War of Independence.

Obscure, maybe, but the perfect excuse (if any were needed) to play one of our favourite Mexican divas here at - ahem - Dolores Delargo Towers:

Viva Mexico!

Friday 15 September 2023

Just what I'm searching for


And ev'rything's sparkle dust, bugle beads, ostrich plumes!

Oh, blessed weekend. You're almost here...

Another tedious week draws slowly to its close, and thank fuck for that.

It's time to get the glad-rags on, and get in the party mood - in the company of sailors, showgirls, cowboys and cops...

...and The Freemasons!

Thank Disco It's Friday!

One of my favourite dance songs, ever.

Have a great weekend, dear reader!

Thursday 14 September 2023

A year on

Heavens!

Can it really be a year since the coffin of HM The Queen was laid in state at Westminster Hall, and the biggest queue London ever saw began?

Of course - a few days later - I was there.

To suit the mood, here's a piece that was (albeit transcribed for organ) featured at the funeral:

Divine.

Wednesday 13 September 2023

A Word From Our Sponsors

[click to embiggen]

Tuesday 12 September 2023

Sign me up!

Standing to attention as we speak, sweetie.

Monday 11 September 2023

And did those feet in ancient time


[click to embiggen]

A long-standing tradition of ours here at Dolores Delargo Towers is to celebrate the time-honoured end of the "Summer Season" with that flag-waving, patriotic sing-a-long, the Last Night of the Proms!

Traditionally it formed a key part of the annual Proms in the Park concert that "our gang" gathered for in Hyde Park, but that no longer exists. And what with COVID and the Queen's death there hasn't been a full Last Night with an audience for the past three years, so the anticipation for Saturday's event was palpable.

It was worth the wait! Madam Arcati and I only watched the second half of the evening's entertainment (on the BBC, naturally), which opened with a world premiere of Laura Karpman's theme for the forthcoming MCU film The Marvels. [We noted that the entire Royal Albert Hall audience was wearing snazzy LED bangles that changed colour - red, white and blue, naturally - in time with changes in the music; someone must have sponsored them, so we assume it was Disney and that's why the unusual inclusion of that corporation's film score on the programme.]

Our star "players" cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason and soprano Lise Davidsen were both utterly remarkable, taking the eclectic selection of openers Samuel Coleridge-Taylor's Deep River, a Hungarian showgirl's song Heia, heia, in den Bergen and the aria Cantilena from Villa-Lobos' Bachianas Brasileiras in their stride, before the traditional "party" really kicked off!

The reliable lineup of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, BBC Chorus and BBC Singers proved once again that they are the best in the business, and "mistress of ceremonies" was American conductor Marin Alsop, commemorating the 10th anniversary of her being the first female conductor to lead the Last Night - and so the world-famous all-British finale-to-beat-all-finales began, of course, with the traditional "Sea Shanties".

All bobbed-out, it was time for the audience (and their klaxons and balloons and amusing costumes and all) to welcome Miss Davidsen back to the stage - wearing what could only be described as a scarlet battleship (she's 6'2", and towered over the orchestra, and especially the tiny Ms Alsop)! - to belt out Thomas Arne's most bombastic should-be-national-anthem:

An even bigger "audience sing-a-long" followed; Elgar's finest:


Marin Alsop's (mercifully short; some go on forever) "conductor's speech" focussed on her hope to see even more inclusiveness and diversity in the Proms, hailing its founder Sir Henry Wood as a pioneer of "progress" in this regard [to this day, there are always £8/10 tickets available to stand - or "promenade" - at every single one of the season's eight weeks of concerts, including this one] and, in thanking the participating ensembles in turn, elicited a huge ovation for the BBC Singers, only recently under threat from budget cuts.

This done, it was back to the patriotism [despite the presence of so many damned EU flags, given out for free by determined - and ineffably smug - campaigners for the "Rejoin EU Party"], with Hubert Parry/William Blake's "hymn", another national favourite:

And, with the (actual) national anthem God Save the King [the first time "King" has been sung at the Last Night since 1951] and the customary Auld Lang Syne (complete with red, white and blue ticker-tape), it was all over.

Same time, next year? I should bloody well think so!


PS We didn't see any footage of the rest of the season (although we listened to quite a few Proms on BBC Radio 3).

This would have been a great one to go and, see, I'm sure...

BBC Proms official site.

Makes the World Go Round


Dammit. Back to work time already!

It must be a bit of a bugger to have a birthday on this day, for every year your celebrations are marred by the reminder of the devastating terrorist attack on the New York Twin Towers that occurred in 2001...

Among those birthday celebrants - who include Harry Connick Jr., Moby, soprano and broadcaster Catherine Bott, Brian De Palma, Queen Paola of Belgium, modernist composer Arvo Pärt, Richard Ashcroft of The Verve, D. H. Lawrence, motorcycle champion Barry Sheene, Herbert Lom and Jessica Mitford - is a "house fave" here at Dolores Delargo Towers, the lovely Miss Lola Falana!

On this Tacky Music Monday, here is the lady herself just clad in a few sequins to cover her "modesty", and ably supported by her glittering safety gays, ready to cheer us up...

Money, indeed. That's why we do this shit.

Have a good week, dear reader.

Sunday 10 September 2023

How can I help it if I think you're funny when you're mad?

It's official. Yesterday was indeed the hottest day of the year so far at 32.7C/91F, and has set a new record for the greatest number of September days where temperatures have reached 30C in the UK. And there's more to come today!

I plan to bask in whatever sunshine I can get, like the lizard that I am...

Meanwhile, some "Sunday Music", courtesy of one of our fave "house bands":

Faboo!

[PS I have never heard this song before in my life! Here's the original.]

Saturday 9 September 2023

Upsetting a natural balance

A family plans to violate all natural law by holding a barbecue this weekend even though it is September.

The Logan family have purchased sausages, burgers, charcoal and hickory wood for a barbecue neighbours have described as ‘spitting in the face of God’.

Friend Helen Archer said: “They think that just because it’s sunny, they can have a barbecue? Running contrary to all natural law? Upsetting a balance that may never be righted?

“Why don’t they go ahead and break out the Prosecco and deckchairs and ‘Tom’s Summer Playlist 23!’ to really incur the wrath of our Druidic forebears who will surely smite them with lightning? Oh, apparently they are.

“Barbecues are for summer. End of. They’re not weather-related, otherwise why would we have them in the pissing rain? They’re bringing down a curse upon us. If our house prices fall, it’s their fault.”


Tom Logan said: “What’s the problem? It’s a lovely day, not a cloud in the sky, and this is our way of saying ‘Hail Satan. Let these sausages burn like our flesh in your fires eternal.’”

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Friday 8 September 2023

Jump wise! *

This has been an absolute bastard of a week, work-wise, and I can't wait for it to end so I can actually enjoy some of this ongoing heatwave the UK is experiencing...

To get us in the mood, I fancy something loud and shouty - and incredibly catchy - like this classic choon from [gulp!] twenty-six years ago:

Oh, yes!

Thank Disco "UK Garage" It's Friday!

Enjoy the hot weekend, dear reader!

[* or at least that's what I think he's saying through all that reverb...]

Thursday 7 September 2023

A Brimful

It's the 90th birthday tomorrow of the utterly fantabulosa Bollywood "playback singer" Asha Bhosle, whose exquisite voice appeared, dubbing myriad actresses, over eight decades in hundreds of movies. Indeed, the Guinness Book of Records states that she is the most prolific recording artist in the world, having reportedly recorded up to 11,000 solo, duet and chorus backed songs in over 20 Indian languages since 1947!

Here she is, dubbing for the magnificently camp "Helen" (Helen Jairag Richardson) - a megastar in Indian musical cinema in the 1960s:

...and here, dubbing for Reena Roy:

...here's the lady herself, aged 79, with a tongue-in-cheek take on an old Usha Uthup number [from the only Bollywood film in which Rex Harrison and Vera Miles ever appeared, Shalimar]...

Sublime.

Of course, I could not let this opportunity pass without playing this marvellous paean to her!

Many happy returns, Asha Bhosle (née Mangeshkar, born 8 September 1933)

Wednesday 6 September 2023

Mivvi, anyone?


Some people cope with the heat in unusual ways.

Hurrah! The UK's in the middle of a heatwave (at last)! It hit 30C yesterday and (even though it's a bit hazy) we've probably hit 32C today [TBC by the Met Office]

A heatwave, you say? Another excuse, I say, to revisit 1976 - the year of the most famous heatwave of the lot!

OK, this time 47 years ago it had actually already broken, and the UK had some (much-needed, after three months of drought) rain, but...

In our charts this week in '76, Abba's Dancing Queen held the top slot, and the likes of Wings, Elton John and Kiki Dee, Rod Stewart, Dr Hook, Johnny Wakelin, Chi-Lites, David Dundas and even Billie Jo Spears were all present and correct. However it is to an old favourite who was also in the Top Ten, the ultimate "Lounge Lizard", we turn to provide today's soundtrack. Here's Mr Bryan Ferry - for it is he - (not even breaking into a sweat, even in searing temperatures, and ably assisted in the video by his then-girlfriend, the pouting Jerry Hall) and The Price Of Love:

I could do with an ice cold cocktail now... Or maybe a Mivvi!

Tuesday 5 September 2023

And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow

According to The Telegraph:

The UK is set to be battered by a mini-heatwave this week with Wednesday and Thursday expected to reach 90F (32C).

A heat health alert has been issued across much of England for the rest of the week with the UK predicted to be warmer than Cyprus, Greece and Ibiza.

Bring. It. On.

We have had such a crap summer, I'm happy to accept anything the weather can fling at us to salvage the dreadful year we've had - just such a shame that I can't actually spend huge amounts of time basking in it.

Work just gets in the way.

Reading the news that someone called Steve Harwell had died, I had to Google the band of which he was frontman and vocalist, Smash Mouth. I didn't think I would know any of their stuff, and then - appropriately enough for the impending "heatwave", remembered this (their only Top 20 hit in the UK):

It ain't no joke, I'd like to buy the world a toke
And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony
And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars
Hey, I know it's just a song but it's spice for the recipe
This is a love attack, I know it went out but it's back
It's just like any fad, it retracts before impact
And just like fashion it's a passion for the with-it and hip
If you got the goods they'll come and buy it
Just to stay in the clique

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive
And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow
But if the offer's shunned
You might as well be walking on the sun

Twenty-five years ago they spoke out and they broke out
Of recession and oppression and together they toked
And they folked out with guitars around a bonfire
Just singing and clapping, man, what the hell happened?
Then some were spellbound some were hell-bound, some they fell down
And some got back up and fought back against the meltdown
And their kids were hippie chicks, all hypocrites
Because fashion is smashing the true meaning of it

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive
And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow
But if the offer's shunned
You might as well be walking on the sun

It ain't no joke when a mama's handkerchief is soaked
With her tears because her baby's life has been revoked
The bond is broke up, so choke up and focus on the close up
Mr. Wizard can't perform no godlike hocus-pocus
So don't sit back, kick back and watch the world get bushwhacked
News at ten, your neighborhood is under attack
Put away the crack before the crack puts you away
You need to be there when your baby's old enough to relate

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive
And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow
But if the offer's shunned
You might as well be walking on the sun

That takes me back three decades...

Keep cool, dear reader!

Monday 4 September 2023

Coconut milk, anyone?

Sigh.

Back to the grind again - and to add insult to injury, we are due even warmer weather all this week than any single day of my recent two-and-a-half-week holiday...

Never mind, eh? On this Tacky Music Monday, I feel I may have outdone myself (and that is saying something by Tacky Music Monday standards over the years!). How about the combination of a singer who resembles "Renato" of "Renee and Renato" fame reflected in a fairground mirror, with two men dancing in pith helmets and towels, and a grinning bimbo with a weird vertically-pointing braid/updo?!

I'm not making this mindfuck up, you know!

Once seen, this can never be unseen.

Have a good week, dear reader...

Sunday 3 September 2023

That is good to me as well as that

It would appear that Ms Scarlet may be right - it certainly feels like that elusive "Indian Summer" is upon us. Yay!

Time, methinks, for a little round-up of the "newer" music that has caught my ear of late...

Let's open with the very welcome return of one of my favourite 80s synthpop bands, shall we? It's sublime:

Here's darling Jake and his latest (and very catchy) choon:

If "Dafydd" from Little Britain got a load of naff tattoos and started hanging around with a woman who wouldn't look out of place in one of the windows in the Red Light District of Amsterdam...

This is hilarious! Described by none other than Whigfield as "Like Borat, but with music", this piss-take of all things "90s Eurodance" is a work of genius:

Cute gay pop-muppet Troye Sivan is back with an earworm...

Now, here's a formidable team-up of talent! Two "house fave" ladies for the price of one...

With a complete change of tempo altogether, here's (a very short clip, unfortunately, of) something I heard recently on Radio 3 from the late, great Medievalist Belinda Sykes and her band :

But, finally, there is only one song for which the anticipation has been building - Our Princess Kylie's new one! It's brilliant:

As ever, dear reader, let me know your thoughts!

Saturday 2 September 2023

Nothing resembling a sensible sandwich

A man is unable to make a sandwich after discovering that the handcrafted sourdough loaf he bought is too weird a shape to cut into decent slices.

Julian Cook purchased the bread from an artisan micro-bakery, feeling obliged to go through with the purchase even when he was informed it cost £5.50.

Cook said: “It was horrifically expensive. But they’re an independent local business and I’m full of middle-class guilt, so I sucked it up, thinking I could make a nice sandwich with the rare cheese and amusingly named pickle I’d got from the farmers’ market.

“However, when I cut the end off I realised that part was only quarter of the size of a proper slice. I tried cutting a couple of decent slices from the middle of the loaf, but the only section that was a normal size turned out to be hiding a huge air bubble so there was no actual bread for me to put my filling on.

“I couldn’t even put bits from separate parts of the loaf together because its rough-hewn shape meant there weren’t two slices that would match up to make anything resembling a sensible sandwich.

“So I gave it to the birds and went out for a loaf of Warburtons. That’s real bread, whatever the Guardian food magazine tells you.”

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Friday 1 September 2023

All together, now!

Almost there. Almost...

As we creep slowly towards the weekend, after an albeit short week that has absolutely dragged like hell, let's pause to wish a happy 370th birthday today to one Johann Pachelbel! Who, I hear you ask?

Despite having a prolific and extensive composing career - with more than two hundred pieces composed for the organ, and a further couple of hundred for voice and/or other instruments to his name, to modern ears he's a bit of a Baroque "one-hit-wonder". His Canon and Gigue for 3 violins and basso continuo received a popular revival in the latter half of the 20th century, and ever since has remained one of the most recognisable and enduring classical chamber music pieces of them all. Here's the original:

Of course, with popularity comes the popular songs based upon it - including by Aphrodite's Child, Maroon 5, and (allegedly) even Kylie!

Most famous of all must be this one, of course:

Johann's tune itself has been given the rock treatment by a number of bands, and various genres of dance DJs have had a go at remixing it. This being the end of the week, and because we need something to get the party mood started, here's one of 'em that is really rather good.

Thank Disco Pachelbel It's Friday!

Have a good one, dear reader!