The Day Today (Sunday Morning Coming Down edition)

This morning’s selection was a real no- brainer; it’s the song which gives the usual Sunday morning series it’s name.

But there’s another reason; the original of this song is one of my Dad’s favourite records, and today marks four weeks since he was admitted to hospital following his fall at home. And four weeks later, that’s where he remains.

Actually, that’s not strictly true, since this week he was transferred to a different hospital where he can receive treatment from a more specialised unit for one of the issues which has been identified. (Obviously, I’m not going to go into details here.)

This is a live version, taken from a recording of a 2013 concert at Union Chapel in North London, one of my favourite venues. Coincidentally, it as also recorded on my birthday, and so I can only assume it was before I joined their mailing list or I would have tried my damndest to have been there.

I haven’t really posted much Kris Kristofferson since his rather underwhelming appearance at Glastonbury a couple of years ago, when he seemed confusedabout where he was, what he was doing there, what song he was supposed to be singing, what the words were to it, each song just sort of tailing off rather than reaching any definite ending.

I went to see Kristofferson play in Bristol a few years before this 2013 gig, and really enjoyed what I saw, although I had to leave early (a long story, which I’ve gone into before on these pages sometime, so won’t bore you with it again). I’d reported back Dad that the gig had been alright, and so, when Kristofferson next came to the UK, off he went, Mum in tow.

I think it was on this 2013 tour that they saw him, but their experience was closer to the disappointing Glastonbury performance than to the one I has been to, however it led to one of Dad’s proudest moments when he called from the audience to prompt Kristofferson with the words “…someone frying chicken!” when he floundered at one particular moment.

Thankfully, although I have no idea how many takes it took, he just about manages to get through it unassisted here:

Kris Kristofferson – Sunday Morning Coming Down (Live)

More soon.

The Day Today

….is Friday.

When the story of indie pop is written (if it hasn’t already been done) then The Brilliant Corners will be, in my mind, one of the most unjustly overlooked bands not to be mentioned.

Certainly, along with bands like The Chesterfields, they were pivotal in me breaking free from the shackles of “chart” music and listening to something just ever-so-slightly off the radar.

Their 1988 album Somebody Up There Likes Me is a lost jewel, packed as it is with witty (sometimes rude) observational lyrics about life on the breadlines, great pop hooks, parping brass and achingly cool (if slightly flat) vocals.

By way of an example, this:

The Brilliant Corners – Friday Saturday Sunday Monday

Technically – *technically* – I don’t need to write another one of these now. To the housebound and diary blind, simply refer back to this post for the next few days. I’m sure you can work things out from there.

More soon.

The Day Today

Today is Thursday.

It turns out that Thursday is not a day of the week which has inspired many songs.

Which is a shame, as I quite like Thursdays. You’ve got over the hump of the week (Wednesday) and Friday and the weekend is in sight. Give me Thursday over Tuesday any…erm…day of the week.

Anyway, here’s a song I found by popular Trivial Pursuit (Baby Boomer edition) answer, Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich:

Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich – Mrs Thursday

There’s something about that sleeve which made me hope that Mrs Thursday might turn out to be somehow linked to Mrs Jones. You know Mrs Jones, right? No, not she of Billy Paul’s Me & Mrs Jones fame. I mean the Mrs Jones name-checked in one of the finest rhyming couplets ever commited to vinyl:

Here we all are, sitting in rainbow

“Cor blimey, hello Mrs Jones! How’s your Bert’s lumbago?”

No points for knowing what I’m banging on about.

Anyway, she isn’t, so that’s that.

More soon.

The Day Today

This is a Public Service Annoucement.

I mentioned in my post on Friday how I had read a lot of people saying how they were losing track of what day it is in these ‘lockdown’ times of ours.

I’m not entirely sure why they can’t just look at their phones to find out, but here we are.

Finally, I can genuinely say, hand on heart, that I’m ‘giving something back’.

For I can help with this. Not all superheroes wear capes.

So everyday this week, there will be a solid way for you to remember what day it is along with any of my usual stuff that I can be arsed to write (which, judging by the last couple of weeks, won’t be much).

Off we go then, and in case you’re still not entirely sure, today is Monday:

Wilco – Monday

More soon. Tomorrow, probably.

The Day Today

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve read people complaining a tedious number of numerous times on social media how, as we continue to stumble our way through ‘lockdown’, they find they are losing track of what day it is.

And just to cause more confusion, today, a Friday, is also, technically the May Day Bank Holiday Monday.

That’s right, Friday is the new Monday.

But worry not – this does not mean that immediately you think you’ve finished one week, the next sodding one starts. No, rest easy, weekends have not been cancelled. Not yet, anyway.

Many moons ago, probably when the Government thought they might need to rustle up some more jingoistic nationalism and Blitz spirit as the no-Deal Brexit they crave edges ever nearer (no, you’re right, I haven’t mentioned it for a while, have I?), some yahoo in a salmon shirt popped open their filofax and noticed that May Day – the Bank Holiday which traditionally falls on the first Monday of May – was due to take place on the Monday just gone, and that Victory in Europe Day (or VE Day) was today, the 8th May, and they wanted that to be a Bank Holiday for the nation too.

Actually, “too” isn’t quite right, for what they actually decided was that us oiks didn’t deserve to have two days off in the same week, so today became May Day instead.

If memory serves, the announcement was garnished with some florid explanation about how the economy couldn’t possibly withstand the idea of the majority of us taking two days off work in the same week. I’m sure, now that any public places where folks might want to gather to celebrate is closed, public gatherings cancelled, we’re all banned from standing within 6 feet of each other, and the Goverment is supposed to be furloughing thousands of businesses to keep them afloat, the irony of that decision isn’t lost on whoever made it. Could’ve let us have both and it wouldn’t have made a jot of a difference, would it?

I don’t want you to get the idea, however, that I don’t think VE Day should be celebrated, far from it. I think it is important that landmark military successes in our proud history are remembered. Plus, I have relatives who served in the armed forces (yes, I appreciate that does sound a little bit too close to “But! Some of my best friends are black/gay/Liberal Democrats…”) and I wouldn’t want them or any of their brothers-in-arms to think their work was not appreciated by yours truly.

Don’t worry, I’m not about to post Dire Straits’s Brothers in Arms.

I sort of remember having a lovely time attending VE celebrations in Cardiff Park many years ago, probably when it was the 50th anniversary.

I say “sort of” remember because I was, predictably, absolutely twatted.

I remember thinking how pleased all the drunks who usually lolled about in the park would be that several hundred chairs had suddenly been provided for them. Even more so that on this day they had something to sing-a-long with, rather than indulging in their second favourite past-time (third if you count sniffing industrial strength adhesives from brown paper bags, fourth if you count laying on your back zonked out on a combination of UHU and White Lightning) of just making up songs on the spot and singing them at anyone who cared to listen and a lot more people who didn’t.

For if memory serves, there was a real smorgasboard of entertainment laid on for us that day: an orchestra zipped through a selection of wartime hits, there was some opera, and I think Michael Ball probably sang. He has a tendency of turning up and doing that, whether he’s asked to or not.

And a bit of Ball is like catnip to your not-so-average sunburned Park drunk (“O! Mikey! Do Love Changes Everything, I fecking loves that one I does!”)

Anyway, to mark the day in my own sweet way, I give you this:

PJ Harvey – Victory

The problem is, now I’ve mentioned it, I can’t resist:

Dire Straits – Brothers in Arms

More soon.