Desert Island Discs

I’m feeling a bit frazzled for a number of reasons this week, so I am suffering from a lack of imagination as to what to put in my blog. Consequently, I am going to subject you all to another set of YouTube clips. I don’t suppose I will ever be on Desert Island Discs on the radio, but if I were, this would be my selection of eight.

1.       Peaches en Regalia, by Frank Zappa. This has such a bright, joyful, first-day-of-the-holidays feel about it. This judgement on my part may just be a psychological result of the fact that I think I first heard it on the first day of the holidays when I was around thirteen years old. Anyway, it is bright, melodic and exciting. It is from the album Hot Rats, which was a departure for Zappa, no low comedy or atonal grunting, just strong melodies and terrific musicianship. I remember my old pal Kevin Connelly saying that this showed what Zappa could do when he wasn’t messing about. Anyway, this is what I want played at my funeral.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGQxI0G6mKk

2.       Get Rhythm, by Ry Cooder. Again, this one is chosen because it sounds so joyful. No other reason, no particular sentiment or memory attached to it. Ry Cooder is the most accomplished slide guitarist of his generation, but that’s incidental. Just listen to it. It is guaranteed to lift the spirits.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AG91Y62T4C0

 

3.       Smugglers, by The Men They Couldn’t Hang. When Linda was pregnant with Bill, our car stereo was stolen. This was in 1993. Do you remember those days when pinching car stereos was an industry? Anyway, we did a bit of driving around the UK, and during the interminable wait for the insurance company to stump up, I would sing this song to her as we drove along. There are other reasons for choosing it, first that it is a great number, and second, that its story is set in the Scottish culture of smuggling claret after the Act of Union. If you listen carefully, you’ll notice that the place names are from the south-west of Scotland.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqHzjrkdHAA

4.       Big Bad Bill is Sweet William Now, by Leon Redbone. This one does have a strong sentimental attachment. I used to sing this to Bill when he was a baby. And as you will have realised from previous blogs, the late Mister Leon is a hero of mine.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYycoh_nS7k

5.       Nobody Knows you When You’re Down and Out, by Jim Dickinson and Chuck Prophet. In the summer of 2006, the year I turned 50, I seemed to spend a heck of a lot of time driving through the night, taking au pairs to and from Luton Airport (I joined the ranks of the privileged some time before then). On the leg of the journey when I was alone, I would play the CD with this number on it. Also, it was part of the set of P’fessuh Rhythm’s concert in George Square Theatre Edinburgh, 1974 (I think). P’fessuh Rhythm was a blues outfit made up of my two big brothers, Tbone and Father Jack, plus Gavin Reid. I think the George Square Theatre show was their only gig, but it was a good one, and I was there, beaming with hero-worship. I couldn’t locate an internet copy of the Jim Dickinson and Chuck Prophet version, so here is Scrapper Blackwell’s rendering from the early 20th century. Lovely.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=626pNZB8xXE

6.       The Washington Post, by The Band of The Royal Marines. My dad had a cassette tape of music by the Royal Marines Band which he played in the car all the time. This was one of the tracks. He copied the tape for me and to my surprise I too found myself playing it as I drove. As with the other stuff above, you can’t fault the professionalism of the musicians. And this particular piece by JP Souza is pretty much the perfect march. People will remember it as the background music to the football game in the movie MASH. But never mind that. It reminds me of my mum and dad.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTDGdgWVxQc

7.       Broad Street, by Tbone Duffy. Chosen for a number of obvious reasons. One, it is a great number by my brother Tbone. Two, it is about an artery of the little town of Cowdenbeath where I grew up (so to speak). It reminds me of so much: mischief in my primary school years and running like blazes from the representatives of authority; old pals who are sadly no longer with us; Hogmanay tours round the neighbours getting gradually drunker between midnight and eight am. On one of the latter, I recall taking a short cut across the building site in Chapel Street and Big Harry Campbell fell down a trench and found it very difficult to get out, he kept slipping back in the mud. James Barker and myself stood by helpless with laughter at each unsuccessful attempt and unable to assist due to being weakened by mirth. Anyway, this song evokes the country of my heart, as DH Lawrence put it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFNhHt8pDeU

8.       Timgad, by Moishe’s Bagel. Chosen only because it sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rVWHGoa-pw

There is a lot of brilliant music, notably by old favourites of mine like The Band, Fairport Convention, She’Koyokh Klezmer Ensemble, and so on. But I had to choose eight. For my book on the desert island, I would want something to cheer me up, like a Rumpole or Jeeves omnibus. For my luxury, I thought about a piano, but if I were ever going to become competent on a musical instrument, I would have done it by now. I’ve had 65 years, for heaven’s sake. So instead, I would have a plentiful supply of baker’s yeast, to brew beer. I could then bawl along half cut with the records above.

And if a wave were to sweep them away, which one would I want to save? It would be a difficult decision between the Tbone and the Zappa. Don’t make me choose.

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