I’m Not Too Keen on Mondays

Bank Holiday Mondays, on the other hand, I’m a big fan of.

Except in the current climate, it doesn’t really feel like a national holiday, does it?

So today’s tune is simply a reminder that it is. No need to drag your fat arse out of bed and over to the coffee table to log onto your work laptop today.

Roll over and go back to sleep.

That’s what me and my fat arse will be doing.

Blur – Bank Holiday

More soon.

I’m Not Too Keen on Mondays

Technically, since the purpose of this series is to give us all impetus to get up and out of bed at the start of another working week, there’s no need for me to write one of these today, Bank Holiday Monday as it is.

But those of us lucky enough to be a) working from home and b) not considered to be a key worker, there’s no rush today.

(By key worker I don’t just mean those working in the NHS – I mean them, of course, just not just them – I mean all those who are continuing to work throughout the current corona-crisis: our retail workers, stocking the shelves and then apologising when they’ve run out of bread, pasta, rice, toilet roll (although, is it just me, or have things been getting better on this front recently?); or postmen and women, diligently delivering all the crap we’ve bought online when bored/drunk/delete as applicable; our refuse workers, carrying away all of the packaging which encases the stuff we’ve bought etc etc etc.)

So, today, a balls-out 70s classic, guaranteed to make you want to shake your booty.

Ok, so it’s lyrically “of it’s time” and most definitely not on point with the whole #MeToo movement.

And strictly speaking, it’s a late night song. Well, it is for me anyway.

I’ll explain.

Back when I lived in Cardiff, I would often frequent Barfly on either a Friday or a Saturday night, a teensy tiny little indie venue, downstairs in a place opposite the castle that stayed open until or 2 or 3 in the morning. I’ve no idea if it’s still there or not, but I loved going there. Often there would be a band on, and I saw many wonderful acts there: Young Knives, The Dears, Graham Coxon, Cud, (ahem) Jet. Loads more that I can’t recall right now. (But yeh, I did remember Jet. Suck it up.)

Anyway, obviously there was the obligatory indie disco when bands weren’t playing, and, as the night went on and the club emptied I would inevitably sidle up to the DJ and ask him if he had his last record of the night sorted yet. He, equally inevitably, would look at me totally non-plussed and tell me he hadn’t. He didn’t need to ask what I was going to suggest, not because he knew what it would be, just that there was a request coming.

“Well, can I make a suggestion….?” I would proffer, and since by this time the venue had practically emptied, leaving just me, a couple of bearded alcoholics propping up the bar and taking full advantage of the late-night serving, and a gaggle of goths at the back of the room, none of whom were likely to dance, he would (inevitably, wearily) say: “Go on….”.

And I would suggest this record, and he’d play it, and I’d spend the last 4:40 seconds of my night out (excluding walking home or trying to flag a taxi down time), whirling around an otherwise empty dancefloor, trotting out every rock’n’roll trope you could name.

It’s a song which has more false endings than the bloopers reel on Smokey and the Bandit, so a new homage would commence with each: Pete Townsend’s helicopter whirl? Check. Chuck Berry’s duck-walk? Check. Quo’s legs astride heads down head-bang? Check. Morrissey’s finger-holding-hearing-aid-in-ear-whilst-brandishing-imaginary-gladioli? Check.

Shall I just play it and shut up?

Faces – Stay With Me

More soon.

I’m Not Too Keen on Mondays

And so back we go again, attempting to put a spring in your step of a Monday morning, by playing either an utter classic, or something loud, or something dumb, or something uplifting, or all of the above, to get your week going.

I’m about to embark on my first full week of working from home, and I have to say that so far, I really like it. For a start, I can listen to the radio as I work, and of course my radio station of choice is BBC 6Music. I’m loving being able to listen to all the shows I usually miss during the week, hearing a lot of new tunes which I already love (more of these later), and managing to catch a lot more of Lauren Laverne’s Breakfast Show, which is just brilliant. She’s cruising effortlessly towards National Treasure status, which isn’t something I ever thought I’d say about a former member of Kenickie.

What’s particularly wonderful about her show – and others, but hers in particular – is the way she manages to make the listener feel part of a community, like they have been welcomed into the bosom of her family.

This is all a bit redundant, of course, for if you’re sensible, you’re listening to her show instead of reading this.

But I mention all of this because I can’t take the credit for thinking of today’s song; I’d previously shied away from posting it because of it’s “Why don’t you get back into bed?” motif, which seems a little at odds with the intention of this series, but she played it on Friday (I think) and it was quite the tonic. Also, without question, it’s my favourite song by the geezer(s) in question:

Ian Dury & The Blockheads – Reasons To Be Cheerful (Part 3)

Altogether now: Wee Willie Harris!

More soon. Stay safe.

I'm Not Too Keen on Mondays

Truth be told, I was going to sack this series off.

But then it occured to me that working from home is an even harder discipline than actually getting up and going to work. It seems odd to say, but that journey from bed to sofa, or dining room table, or wherever presents more mental challenges than is the norm.

“Ahh..it’s only over there…I’ll stay in bed for a bit longer and then work later to make the hours up” is a definite mantra for those who hate getting out of bed, doubly so on Mondays.

So we’re back, and for the time being we’ll be shying away from the loud mentality which has crept into this series of late.

Instead, we’ll be turning back to some out and out classics, starting here, back in the days when Phil Spector preferred his hits to be in the charts rather than to the head of Lana Clarkson.

Ike & Tina Turner – River Deep, Mountain High

More soon.

I’m Not Too Keen on Mondays


Sort of following on from my Late Night Stargazing post, and bearing in mind my decision to post effing-loud tunes of a Monday morning, this has been eating away at me for a few days now.

Led Zeppelin – Black Dog

And since many of you drooling ex-metalheads seem to prefer live versions, here’s the same song (I’d like to say longer and more self indulgent, but it really isn’t. Much.) lifted from the live album and movie The Song Remains the Same:

Led Zeppelin – Black Dog (Live)

Of course, this is all just a cover for giving me a reason to post this (with apologies for the sound and picture quality, it was the best clip I could find):

More soon.