One of the miracles of the modern age is being able to track down dimly remembered novelty tunes on Youtube – like this one by Julie Brown.

Written way back in the 80s when school shootings were merely fantasised about rather than actually undertaken, ’The Homecoming Queen’s got a Gun’ parodies the 80s Valley Girl life that I was only familiar with through trash teen novels and Frank Zappa songs. Still, the song and its accompanying video captured my imagination and despite not hearing it in years until this week, I’ve never forgotten winning couplets like:

God, my best friend’s on a shooting spree
Stop it, Debbie, you’re embarrassing me

and

Debbie’s really having a blast
She’s wasting half of the class

Ah, they don’t write parody songs like they used to. And what’s Weird Al Jankovic up to these days…

Keen to broaden my knowledge of classical music beyond ‘populist muck’ opera and ’tiresome’ minimalism, I have been taking an evening class on ‘music appreciation’ on and off throughout the past year. Because it’s been by and large, a nice group of people involved, on more than one occasion we have found ourselves down the pub after.

So what’s the most obvious conversation subject in such a situation? Music. Fine with me.  And what’s the question that’s inevitably going to be asked at some point? What’s the question that I, as both a lifelong music fan and a dedicated Radio 4 listener, should have well and truly prepared for?

Yes, it’s ‘What are your desert island discs?’

The answers flowed forth with certainty from everyone else around the table: ‘Mahler’s 7th’, ‘White Man in Hammersmith Palais’, ‘Beethoven’s Piano Concerto no. 4′, ‘Miserere mei, Deus’, ‘Good Vibrations’, etc. etc. But not from me – for I was embarrassingly unprepared,  dumb struck by choice, overwhelmed by having to nail my colours to the mast with only eight songs.

Eight songs! I could think of dozens of songs I love and couldn’t live without. ‘Be ruthless’ I was told sternly.

Hmmm, ‘Wuthering Heights’, ‘Hot Burrito No. 2′ by the Flying Burrito Brothers, Philip Glass’ String Quartet No. 5, John Coltrane’s version of ’My Favourite Things’, Benny Goodman’s ‘Sing, Sing, Sing’, ‘More Love’ by Smokey Robinson & the Miracles, The Go-Betweens ‘Streets of Your Town’,  ‘Eleanor’ by The Turtles, Acts I and II from La Boheme… all of West Side Story… and Forever Changes… and I still haven’t included anything by George Gershwin… or The Beatles…

So dear reader, could you have faired any better? Have you prepared for the moment when you are asked the ultimate question?

It’s been a quite a while since the last song of the week, so long that I can’t actually remember what it was. Oh yes… Five Thirty? Hmmm… Anyway, I can explain this absence by saying that not only have I not been listening to much music, but when I have its mostly been 1. nasty populist opera* 2. Bruce Springsteen 3. Bobby Vee and 4. nothing much else. So you’ll understand why I wasn’t going to take you there.

This week, however, is different. For this week I am being plagued by a ridiculously catchy song called ‘Jungle Animal’ by the stupidly named Pomplamoose. ‘Music pundit’ Bob Lefsetz recommended this track on his blog some time ago and it’s only now that have I fallen prey to its fey charms.

What’s interesting about ‘Jungle Animal’ is that it was written by songwriter Allee Willis**, the woman behind the wonderful ‘September’ by Earth, Wind and Fire and ‘What Have I Done To Deserve This? by the Pet Shop Boys and Dusty Springfield (and also the somewhat less fabulous theme tune to Friends).

Allee Willis doesn’t quite rescue Pomplamoose from the land of twee, but it’s a damn fine attempt.

* see earlier post re. the snob woman who helped me back to health
** Bored at work? Check out her Museum of Kitsch. It does what it says on the tin.

Five Thirty
13th Disciple

In one of many ongoing attempts to free up some space in our crowded flat, I recently took the radical (ha!) decision to transfer all of my CD singles to itunes and stash the originals away in the trusty old loft.

Ah, the CD single – what a stupid concept! When I bought this one by Five Thirty back in 1991 I thought I was being pretty cutting edge – a wizzy new music format which was absolutely guaranteed to surpass scratchy old 7″s within the blink of an eye and a trendy new band with cool hair who were due for big, big things.

Well, I was wrong on both accounts.

But ‘13th Disciple’ is a great song. I’ve always thought so and thankfully, in this issue of The Word, Steve Lamacq agrees (well, that’s what I’m reading into his article anyway). Just wish I’d bought the damn thing on vinyl.

‘13th Disciple’, Five Thirty, 1991

Download audio file (01 13th Disciple.mp3)

Esquivel!
Johnson Rag

I cannot believe that I have been writing this blog for 2 1/2 years without mentioning Mr Juan Garcia Esquivel, or Esquivel! as he apparently preferred to be known. This was a man who was not put off by silly lyrics, odd instruments or experimentation with weird arrangements. No, he embraced them whole-heartedly – only to create the ultimate in big band ’space age pop’.

File under: the sound of 50s summer
Goes with: a Mai Tai

‘Johnson Rag’, Esquivel, 1960

Download audio file (johnson_rag.mp3)

The Bamboos
Keep me in Mind

This song doesn’t have an original bone in its body. From the two-note piano solo and classic horn runs to the strangely predictable melody and boring female backing vocals it is same old – same old nu-soul. In fact, I can’t think of anything remotely interesting to say about ‘Keep me in Mind’ other than that the label it’s on, Tru Thoughts, is a top Brighton-based indie who generally release way more interesting music.

But it’s great. Song of the week I say!

‘Keep me in Mind’, The Bamboos, from 4, Tru Thoughts, 2010

Download audio file (keep_me_in_mind.mp3)

Joglaresa
Stella Nuova

I’ve been keeping myself busy with an evening course on Early Music recently. Since I know practically nothing about any music from before 1900 it has been enlightening and educational to say the least.

One thing that I have learnt is that not all ‘early music’ involves Greek Orpheus types plucking lyres and monks chanting spooky exhortations to God. No, sometimes there is rippingly upbeat stuff such as this.

‘Stella Nuova’ is an Italian tune from around the 12th century and like say, this year’s German Eurovision winner ‘Satellite’*, is annoyingly catchy.

‘Stella Nuova’, Joglaresa, from Stella Nuova: Celebratory Songs of Medieval Italy, 2005

Download audio file (stella_nuova.mp3)

* You did watch it didn’t you?

It’s been an odd weekend. It started off badly when our lovely neighbours decided to ‘prune’ the tree in their garden – how I love the sound of chainsaws at 8am on a Sunday morning – and descended into just plain weirdness when Mr C. announced that he was going to do some pruning of his own.

‘I have too may records’ he said surveying his not insubstantial collection, ‘I don’t listen to some of them very much and well, I don’t really need to keep them all do I?’
‘No… ‘ I responded, swallowing my disbelief, ‘but are you absolutely sure about this?’
‘Yes, there are too many’ he said determinedly ‘I need to purge.’

I am sorry to say that I just snickered unsupportively at this point and went off to read the paper.

Several hours of struggling later, he had triumphantly managed to reduce the vinyl load on the shelves by around oooh… eight LPs.

Not that I have any right to be sarcastic. He did much better than I ever could. The last time I attempted a purge was just before I freighted my vinyl over here from Australia. Once it arrived after several long months on the boat I realised I’d made a terrible mistake and had to go out and buy them all again.

And as we discussed, post failed purge, it doesn’t matter if you don’t listen to all of your records all of the time. It’s just comforting to know that they’re there. Even the ones by James Last.

The Easybeats
She’s so Fine

Another delve in the mix tape box (sorry) came up with this early tune by The Easybeats.* I don’t think ‘She’s so Fine’ charted in the UK, but it was a bit of a ‘hits and memories’ radio perennial when I was growing up. Once you hear it you’ll know why – it’s 2 minutes 9 seconds of catchy pop perfection. And just listen to that scream five seconds in. What a way to open a song!

‘She’s so Fine’, The Easybeats, from Easy, 1965

Download audio file (shes_so_fine.mp3)

* bunged on the end of a tape after ‘What I like about you’ by the Romantics, but never mind.

Long before I discovered punk, or indeed any music beyond Culture Club and my Dad’s Beatles records, I knew Malcolm McLaren as the man behind the groovy skipping song ‘Double Dutch’.

This single, with its natural exuberance celebrating the important things in life for an 8 year old, kicked off a huge skipping fad in our school playground. And for once I wasn’t standing on the sidelines wondering what the fuss about. No, it was quite clear from the film clip I’d seen on Australian Sunday night music staple Countdown that skipping was not like the usual rubbish sports like cricket or netball. Skipping was COOL.

So here’s to you Malcolm – for not only helping change the course of music but for managing to get sport hating bookworms like me out of library (for the weeks that the song was in the charts anyway).

‘…The skip they do is the double dutch, that’s them dancing…’

Malcolm McLaren, ‘Double Dutch’, 1983

Split Enz
Strait Old Line

The mood being ripe for mix tapes, I reached into the old shoe box full of the blighters that is hidden under the stereo and randomly plucked one out to accompany the washing up. The lucky tape started with a lengthy version of Julian Lloyd Webber’s ‘Variations’ so Mr C. made me put it straight back where it came from.

The second tape was a compilation I remember taking to a party when I was about 16. It contains some fabulous stuff – Martha and the Muffins, Mental as Anything, the Swingers, The Beat, the J. Geils Band…  Sadly once again, I screwed up with the music as this was 1991 not 1981 and everyone but me and my friend Scott thought that it was crap. I was made to play Bryan Adams instead.

Anyway, that’s all rambling. The point is that this mix tape contained the mighty Split Enz and that’s what you’re getting today.  All requests for that bloody Robin Hood song will be ignored.

‘Strait Old Line’, Split Enz,  from Conflicting Emotions, 1983

Download audio file (straight_old_line.mp3)

You mightn’t believe it, but I can be very sensitive about my music taste. Or more accurately, unjustified criticism of it (which as we all know, is pretty much all criticism).

For example some time ago (well, 1996 to be precise) I cautiously lent a new friend two of my favourite albums of all time, thinking that since he liked that style of music, he might share my enjoyment of these too.

But no, he returned them saying that they were quite possibly the worst records he’d heard in a very long time, that the respective singers couldn’t sing to save themselves, and how could I possibly listen to this godawful rubbish. I bit my lip; I tried to be brave and indignantly defend my taste but it was too late – I was over-sensitive, he had revealed his ears of cloth and our friendship wasn’t ever going to be quite the same.

That old feeling of musical rejection has emerged again over the past couple of weeks. This time a friend asked me to suggest some ‘nice, subtle but different’ background music for an event he was putting on, stuff that he might enjoy as well. I dutifully (read stupidly, gullibly, naively...) handed over a pile of handpicked CDs from a range of different musical genres, all of which I personally would be delighted to hear filling up the embarrassing silences at any occasion.

But no, back they all came. Everything from Michael Nyman, Davy Graham, Jackie Mittoo and Mr Scruff to the Cocteau Twins, Toumani Diabate, Candi Staton and a lot of jazz albums. Rejected. ‘They’re all a bit… inappropriate’ he explained, ‘couldn’t you have given me something more obvious, a bit less weird? I want to play something that people will actually like you know.’

I thought I had. I had resisted The Fugs, the KLF, Messiaen, Eric Dolphy and that Japanese psych compilation – all of which would have been truly different to hear as background music.

So once again, I’m feeling musically rejected. But this time I’m not letting the rejection get to me. No, I’m going to plant someone at the event to go up and complain that the music is too boring, and to request The Fugs and Eric Dolphy.

This weeks long-delayed Song of the Week is testament to the power of two things: musical memory and the Amazon recommendation system.

I first heard this song in a club called The Sounds of Seduction in Sydney around 1996. I heard it once, had an excellent time on the dancefoor with it, and never again. However, that one night together was enough for its ’shoop, shoop, shoop, shoop–shoop, shoop shoops’ to move into my brain, unpack their things and put their feet up on my mental sofa forever more. I haven’t resented this; I’ve only been annoyed by the fact that I don’t know who sang them or even what the name of their song was. And since my Japanese is pretty much limited to ‘I’d like to look at cherry blossoms and drink sake’, I’d resigned myself to never finding out.

Well, you’ve already guessed what happened next. Taking a queue from my fondness for French pop, Thai-funk and the glorious Japanese psych stuff I’ve never got round to posting, a few months back Amazon recommended a compilation called Nippon Girls: Japanese Pop, Beat & Bossa Nova, 1966-70. And there it was: those shoop- shoops suddenly and unexpectedly blasting out in all their glory, complete with the rest of their song.

I’m pleased to say that they sounded exactly like the version that’s been in my head these past 14 years. And since I can’t remember that important information that my boss told me last Monday, I can only say that memory works in mysterious ways.

‘Kiro No Sekai’, J Girls, 1969 from Nippon Girls: Japanese Pop, Beat & Bossa Nova, 1966-70

Download audio file (kiro_no_sekai.mp3)

Whilst we’re on the subject, here is the wonderful Raymond Scott’s sonic interpretation of a new variety of Nescafe from 1960.

And just in case you didn’t notice, the music (according to the liner notes) represents:

1. the sound of beans pouring out of a bag
2. the sound of dancing flames and a coffee-toasting machine
3. the sound of toasting
4. the sound of roasting

Beat that Hot Butter and your boring old ‘Popcorn’!

‘Nescafe’, Raymond Scott, 1960 from Manhattan Research Inc.

Download audio file (nescafe.mp3)

Timebox
Soul Sauce

Yes, after a period of laziness and well, just not listening to anything remotely suitable for the slot, Song of the Week is back.

Back with a 60s Southport take on a Latin jazz tune by Cal Tjader. If you listen to the music and ignore the photo above, you won’t be surprised to know that Timebox had a residency at the Whisky A Go-Go in 1965 and were an  trendy mod group for five seconds. They supported The Small Faces and even almost had a hit with their version of Beggin’.

All up, they didn’t have much success and other than a handful of Northern sound-a-like stompers and pretty psych rip-offs they er … weren’t all that great actually. But this is pretty catchy. Really.

‘Soul Sauce’, Timebox, 1967 from Beggin’ 1967-1969: the Sound of London’s Mod/Club Scene

Download audio file (soul_sauce.mp3)

And you can hear more of Timebox over at Left and to the Back

If there’s one thing that miserable old me likes even less than people going on holidays for charity, it’s pop stars recording songs for charity. So you’ll imagine that I was delighted to hear that national saviour Simon Cowell has gathered together all of our very favourite musicians (Rod Stewart, Susan Boyle, someone from Westlife) for an over-emotive mangling of REM’s classic ‘Everybody Hurts’ for the people of Haiti.

Great. Lucky them.

Why are charity songs so lazy and so bad? Increasing the profile of a cause is almost always welcome, as is raising money, and I’d like to think that the motivation behind the charity single is largely genuine (and I dare say it was once upon time – in 1984). Somehow I suspect though that the opportunity to generate some column inches in a non spouse-cheating/my-drug-hell/help-I’m-having-nervous-breakdown kind of way is the real selling point for ‘the artists’ involved these days.

Honorable intentions or not though, doesn’t it make more sense to choose a decent song in the first place? Being associated with dirge like ‘Rocking around the Christmas Tree’, hideous sap like ‘Earth Song’ or point-missing remakes of ‘Perfect Day’ might raise some much-needed cash, but it’s hardly helping the long-term credibility of either party is it?

The original versions of ‘Do They Know it’s Christmas Time?’ and ‘We are the World’ worked not just because raising money to alleviate famine in Ethiopia is a good thing, but because the actual songs weren’t cynically chucked together in five seconds flat à la Band Aid 20 and everything ever featuring the X Factor finalists.

So who buys these crap charity singles? Who is encouraging their recording? Is it you, dear reader? Have you ever bought a charity record? Come on, be honest now.

Orriel Smith
Tiffany Glass

I strongly suspect that several regular readers will already own this piece of ‘fuzzy felt folk’, but it seems to fit the icy weather and the glacial mood that I am in.

And shock discovery for the day: did you know that Orriel Smith now uses her exquisite soprano to record albums of er, operatic chicken impersonations?

I love this world.

‘Tiffany Glass’, Orriel Smith from ‘Now we are Ten’, Trunk Records, 2006 but originally released as a single in 1968.
Download audio file (tiffany_glass.mp3)

Kay Martin and Her Body Guards
The Horizontal Twist

Yes, it’s time for my yearly concession to Christmas. May this er, sleazy little number by Kay Martin (who is apparently not featured on the cover of the album from which the track is from) put a festive spring in your stride. And if that’s not enough, you can just re-listen to last year’s selection.

Merry Christmas everyone and see you on the other side.

 ‘The Horizontal Twist’, Kay Martin and Her Body Guards, 1962

Download audio file (the_horizontal_twist.mp3)

Loretta Lynn
One’s on the Way

I don’t have much to say about this fabulous tune other than:

1. contraception is a wonderful thing
2. you can’t beat a bit of pedal steel guitar 
3. Loretta Lynn was the first lady of country.

‘One’s on the Way’, Loretta Lynn, 1971

Download audio file (ones_on_the_way.mp3)

I’ve been tagged for this meme by I Should Be Working (who I’m secretly pleased isn’t working as she wouldn’t have time to write such a top blog otherwise). Anyway, the drill is to select a song which always makes me smile and to then tag others with the same request, adding a comment about their blogs which should be smile-inducing.

I’ve spent the weekend pondering over which song to choose because well, quite frankly every song I bung on this blog makes me happy – so what makes this selection different from any other?

To make this ’special’, I’ve decided to be (kind of) radical. I’m throwing away cool and embracing honesty. This tune has probably never been written about in the pages of the NME, The Word or The Wire. My DJ heroes like Giles Peterson, Norman Jay and Stuart Maconie would probably prefer to die than play it. And if you actually listen to the words, you will soon discover that they are so naff that Morrissey’s larynx would probably choose petrol gargling and sword swallowing over singing them.

No right minded music snob should like this song. Come to think of it, no right minded feminist should like a song from a musical whose key message is that domestic abuse is fine and dandy if you love someone.

But hey, we all have failings and this is mine. Rogers and Hammerstein make me happy, and this song says happiness best. Even in November.

‘June is Bustin’ Out All Over’, from Carousel, 1945
Download audio file (june_is_bustin_out_all_over.mp3)

Now to spread the joy, I’d like to tag Mr Hoops Hooley over at Horse Overboard.  Although we share a common love of Teenage Fanclub, classic pop and tuneful softrock, his ever-enthusiastic musings about his recent musical discoveries always remind me that there is more out there. He is also one of the few people in the world who actually makes me think that I really should get out more and see some live music.