Be Llŷrious

I mentioned in passing a while ago that Hel and Sian has compiled a playlist of tunes for the reception (not a wake) after Llŷr’s memorial service. Hel asked me for some suggestions, and I ended up sending her about thirty.

Add to that, this: when I went to visit Llŷr last year, I loaded up an iPod mini with a stack of songs which reminded me of when we lived together, and I hoped he would remember too. I figured that, knowing him, laying in a hospital bed (at the time) he would be going stir crazy with nothing to listen to, so I presented him with it as we left, explaining what was on it and why.

Beacuse of his condition, his speech capabilities were extremely restricted, but as I gave it to him he gripped my arm and looked me in the eye. A look that said: This had better not just be all Quo.

It wasn’t, and as a result, I have an absolute shitload of songs which I associate with Llŷr, which I’d like to share in his memory.

So, a new series. And if you’re bored of me talking about my recently passed best friend, whenever you see this title you can skip past it, you unfeeling ghoul.

For the rest of you, listen up. Everyone should be more Llŷrious and just admit to liking songs because you like them. No strings, no agendas, no cares if everyone else thinks it’s utter dogshit.

To start off with, one which many of you will think is exactly that. As we first started hanging out together, and before we knew each other well enough to just say: “I like this”, he felt the need to justify liking by saying that Patrick Bateman liked it in American Psycho, and if it was good enough for him, then it was good enough for Llŷr.

I didn’t buy this excuse then and I don’t buy it now; subsequent conversations proved to me that he liked it despite it being by Phil Collins, rather than because of it, and that’s absolutely fine by me:

sussudio

Phil Collins – Sussudio

More soon. Oh yes. Much. More. Soon.

Gunter Glieben Glauchen Globen

It’s okay, I’m not having a stroke.

Three songs for the price of one here, all of which start with the same bit of gibberish German.

a) The source material (as far as I can tell):

def

Def Leppard – Rock of Ages

b) The hit, much beloved by many skateboard clutching baggy short wearers, despite the band appearing to be, at the very least, in their late 30s:

Fly

The Offspring – Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)

And just in case you don’t know what I mean when I say they’re in their late 30s, look. There’s a reason they’re hardly in this video, and when they do pop up it’s fleeting glances in soft-focus:

C’mon guys, put some proper pants on.

c) The cool one. I’ve posted this before. I bloody love it. You should too. Play this one L-O-U-D:

Puffy

Puffy AmiYumi – Call Me What You Like

That’ll do ya.

More soon.

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus

That’s Happy St David’s Day to you and me (according to Google Translate, anyway).

Ok, ok, I’m a day late with this.

But that’s in keeping with this morning’s act’s thoroughly Newport state of mind lackadaisical approach to…well, just about everything, bar smoking industrial quantities of the green stuff.

When I lived in Cardiff, for my birthday I once hired a mini-bus to take me and a load of my mates down to Port Talbot to see Goldie Lookin Chain supporting Super Furry Animals. How much more Welsh can you get? None more, that’s how much.

It was a great, if a somewhat scary night: scary for the simple reason that if you have a distinctly non-Welsh and definitely English accent like I do, and a voice as loud as I have, in such provinces you’re constantly on edge of being discovered and being on the receiving end of a good kicking.

Still, Port Talbot – industrial birthplace of such acting nobility as Sir Anthony Hopkins, Richard Burton, Michael Sheen and Rob Bryden – held the odd surprise, namely a lengthy queue for the Gents which allowed me to witness grown men pissing into the sink. It’d never happen in Cardiff.

Anyway, this is a song from GLC’s second album, a song which, as someone who has spent the past twenty years or so working for Insurance companies, trying to sniff out the fraudsters and chancers (apart from the 18 month period where I found myself working for solicitors and actually representing the shysters), always raises a smile. (I received a text from Kay just after midnight this morning, asking me what this song is called. This has in no way prompted this post. I will not be posting Peter Cetera’s You’re My Inspiration anytime soon. But I wonder: Do any other bloggers find they are constantly pestered with questions about songs?):

goldie

Goldie Lookin Chain – Bad Boy Limp

As a special day-after St David’s Day treat, here’s another song by GLC which, as far as I know, has never been commercially released (hence no artwork). They played it at the Port Talbot gig; I almost missed it as I was trying to work out where I should wash my hands and how I could do it without touching anything. Alan Partridge would be proud of me.

I’ve posted this once before, absolutely ages ago so the link is dead (I guess, I haven’t checked). It’s a bit foul-mouthed Barron Knights, if I’m honest, but funny.

Llŷr sourced and gave this to me. Of course he did. Who else?

Needless to say, both of these tunes come with a “saucy language” warning. But I’m guessing you’d already guessed that. Or if you hadn’t apologies for the fact I’m only mentioning it after the first tune (which isn’t too bad, to be fair.).

“Where to’s the link?”

“Over by there” -> Goldie Lookin’ Chain – Nan Rita

More soon.