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Friday 26 October 2012

Music Music Music


‘Music was my first love and it will be my last ‘, so sang John Miles and really he could have been singing about me or any other serious muso on this planet. Some people might give you this as a definition :-
A muso is a person who is obsessed with music. Their record collection will contain music and artists nobody else has heard of.
This would not be entirely accurate but it bears more than a great deal of the real truth in my case and I have been obsessed by music since about the age of 10 or 11 years old. I remember listening to my family’s Top Of The Pops compilations, records by Alf Garnett aka Warren Mitchell singing first and second world war songs and music hall classics, listening to the charts on Sunday evenings replayed on a reel to reel tape recorder mostly compared by Jimmy Savile (oh dear !!!) and also hearing my dear old Granddad singing off-key ditties and his unique versions from the music hall in his armchair while he rolled his own cigarettes and we all watched Hawaii 5-O on the television. I remember buying my first single from Woolworths, it was Mungo Jerry’s ‘Baby Jump’ and my first proper LP was T.Rex’s ‘Bolan Boogie’. I can recall the thrill of buying Dr Feelgood’s ‘Down By The Jetty’ and realising it was recorded in mono not stereo. I even lusted over the sexy female model covers of the early Roxy Music albums, I can remember watching Johnny Winter somewhere on whatever channel it was on at the time and then rushing out to buy his first drugs free comeback effort ‘Still Alive & Well’ and then playing it non- stop for weeks on end, I can recall dancing on my bed to Mud’s ‘Tiger Feet’ and having my first real kiss to Mott’s ‘All The Young Dudes’.
 
 I remember being fascinated by a fold-out Vertigo records LP from Juicy Lucy and wondering why did Status Quo have their previous album covers embossed on the back of each new album release. Why did I have an album by Tony Williams Lifetime and one by the Carry On Team singing novelty songs and why was Ernie the Fastest Milkman In The West by Benny Hill not regarded as one of the truly great modern English Folk Songs  ?
So as I have said before I have been obsessed for years and at various periods collected over 2000 LP’s, 500 cassettes, 1000 CD’s, various minidiscs, occasional eight tracks and boxes of 45’s. Now after years of buying, selling and culling I have about 1000 LP’s left, no cassettes anymore, about 100 CD’s and around 60,000 mp3’s – yes I went digital a few years back for storage purposes mainly and yes because I do love ‘ the shuffle’ on all my media devices. So I really cannot capture in four tracks my career as a musicologist (sounds like I was somehow aiming to be the new Alan Lomax) but seriously folks below is some music that I have always regarded very highly and will go back to even while I’m trying to capture, listen to and file whatever else hits my musical radar on a daily basis.
 
 
 





Tuesday 16 October 2012

Caravans, Council Estates and Class


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I spent last weekend in a caravan at a holiday centre in the North East of England. This was my second of such adventures this year as I had been previously enticed by an offer of some collectable vouchers in a daily newspaper offering luxury caravan breaks at bargain prices. I hadn’t enjoyed the first one in July very much so I was not particularly looking forward to this one either but the difference being this break was over a weekend not a week this time around. Due to a change in circumstances we arrived on the Saturday morning rather than the designated check-in on Friday evening. Saturday night proved to be quite an experience for me and is not something I shall ever want repeated, for me it was as if I had moved to a sink estate overnight. I am not a snob and see myself as somewhat lower Middle Class in the so-called class pecking order that still pervades this country where I live. I have always worked, my parents have always worked and my grandparents all worked their whole lives and we have never been poor, never missed paying bills or mortgages and I have been brought up to be respectable, have good manners and be considerate of others. These attributes were certainly absent from a minority of my fellow caravan park dwellers on Saturday night and caused me to exhibit feelings of anger, extreme annoyance and exasperation as time moved into the early hours of Sunday morning. I have sworn never to darken the doors of one of these holiday destinations again as in my normal life I spend quite a bit of time avoiding people often labelled as a ‘chav’.
I know a lot of the media intelligentsia think that ‘chav’ is a demeaning word for the Working Class but to me it does not so much sum up a class more a certain type of individual behaviour that has become more prevalent year after year since the fall of Thatcher and then the rise and fall of Blair & Brown. I personally think these people are clueless, stupid and don’t deserve to be included in any class system breakdown whatsoever. They are thick, feral and a fucking blight that festers in the concrete council estate undergrowth that has been allowed to grow like mould in a petri dish with successive governments ignoring the issues and focusing more on looking upwards in the class chain towards the major capitalist corporations and financial bully boys rather than actually trying to bring some decency and a change of philosophy for people at the other extreme end of society instead of leaving them to rely on benefits and charitable benevolence with no decent future prospects in sight other than a weekend trip to a caravan park every now and again……………
Enjoy