Cocktails and Records

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

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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.

J Girls
Kiro No Sekai

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

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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.

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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

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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.

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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

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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

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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

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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.