Sunday Morning Coming Down

Sometimes, when I check back to make sure I haven’t already posted a particular song before, I’m staggered to see that not only have I never posted the song in question, but I’ve never posted anything by the artist either.

Such is the situation with today’s post.

Yes, it’s Country-lite, no it’s not her most famous record, but it’s still a pretty fine example of a Country stock-subject: simmering, imminent betrayal:

Fabulous stuff.

More soon.

Late Night Stargazing

I’ve been meaning to post this song here for a while now, ever since I picked a vinyl copy of the album this is the opening track from a few weeks ago. Original 1977 print, £6 including postage, an absolute bargain, I reckon.

Before I reveal all, I’ve been asked about the title of this long-running series for a while now. It stems from the days when I lived in rented accommodation in Cardiff, in properties which prohibited smoking, and unfortunately this was a habit to which I was very much an eager, committed subscriber.

Consequently, smoking had to happen outside, which was never an issue during the day. Stand at the front door and watch the world go by while you indulge your addiction.

But night-time was a different matter. Standing in a doorway at night attracts the attention of drunken passers-by, particularly if you’re in your Jimmy-Jams.

Back garden it is then. Where there were very few things to look at in the dark.

Except up.

And after a while, as I do with so many other time-passing activities I reluctantly engage in, I slowly began to compile a playlist of songs to soundtrack this one. Hence Late Night Stargazing: songs to listen to when standing outside looking at the stars. Simple, really.

Of course, for much of these times, had there been a Mrs Jez (that sounds wrong) had I had a non-smoking partner who could have implored me to stay in bed rather than pop out for a ciggie then a) I’d have quit a lot sooner, and b) the playlist would have been a lot shorter.

Which leads me onto tonight’s selection, which would have to be appended with the words “(Or I’ll Pop Outside and Then You Won’t Want To Come Anywhere Near Me Anyway Because I Stink of Tobacco)”:

Ian Dury – Wake Up And Make Love With Me

Boys take note: With, not To.

And pedants: They became Ian Dury & The Blockheads on the next album, Do It Yourself. But whilst all the main performers are the same people on both, New Boots… is, to all extents and purposes, a Dury solo album.

More soon.