So let me start of by apologising, to those that care, for the absence of a Friday Night Music Club last night. The mix is done, but at the end of another gruelling week, I just couldn’t muster up the energy to write it up, especially when, having watched both series of the UK version along with the first season of the Australian version, I was nearly at the end of the second series of the antipodean version of The Traitors.
No spoilers for any of them here, I promise.
I didn’t watch the first series of the UK version at the time of transmission, and having seen it plastered all over social media at the time, I had taken against it, assuming it was just another reality show that I wouldn’t like (see also Love Island – I just don’t get the appeal). But when a friend (Hel, of course) got in touch after S1 had concluded to ask if I’d watched it, and seemed genuinely surprised to find when I answered in the negative, telling me that it was something I’d absolutely love, I determined to watch it sometime.
And then S2 came around, and although I hadn’t got round to watching S1, I thought I’d give it a go. And to say I bloody loved it is an understatement. The thing is, and don’t ever tell her I said this, but Hel is always right, as I’m sure her husband has found out since they got together.
In case you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of months and haven’t watched it and/or, more importantly, haven’t seen who the winner(s) were, then let me explain the concept: it’s The Apprentice meets Big Brother meets a Murder Mystery Weekend (70s Jon Pertwee-hosted gameshow Whodunnit? is a solid point of reference, for those old enough, and with a memory that isn’t addled by drink, drugs, or a delicious combination of the two, to remember it), Twenty-odd cash-hungry egotist twats go to (in the UK version) a castle in Scotland where an unspecified number of them are secretly selected by host, the perma-orange fringed goddess Claudia Winkleman to be Traitors, the rest are the Faithful. The Traitors get to ‘murder’ one of the Faithful every night, the Faithful have to work out who is a Traitor, and get to vote to banish one contestant every episode, usually, accidentally , a Faithful (“Ooops! Aren’t we stooopid?”). If any of the Traitors are left standing at the end, then they win all of the prize pot, which is added to every day by way of a daily task.
It’s absolutely fascinating stuff, watching the Faithful try and sniff out the Traitors, generally getting it wrong, and watching the gameplan of the Traitors play out. I lost count of the amount of times, over the four series I’ve now watched, I found myself thinking just how utterly stupid some people are (perhaps to be expected in the Aussie version – JOKE before I get swamped by angry messages) but then, the viewer knows who is a Traitor from the off, but that doesn’t dampen the emotions.
A tune (the only one I own with the word Traitor in the title):
Anyway: Friday Night Music Club will be back next week. Honest.
All of this treacherous talk leads me neatly on to the question of why things are so gruelling for me at the moment. Well, it links to a somewhat oblique reference I left here recently about having some news which I couldn’t divulge just yet. But the cat’s out of the bag at work now, so there’s no longer any issue with me writing about it here, as long as I’m not dumb enough to mention who my current employers are.
As many of you will know, I work for one of the London Borough councils. I lived in said Borough for approaching 10 years. A couple of years ago, when my landlord decided to sell the flat I lived in, the new owners swiftly served me with an eviction notice, as they wanted to completely refurbish the flat so they could charge loads more than the rent I was paying (at least, that’s what I’ve convinced myself was the reason…who knows…?), which had almost doubled in the time I lived there.
Unwilling to go back to flat-sharing with complete strangers, and unable to pay the amount it would cost me to rent a place on my own anywhere in London at the short-notice I was given, I moved north to Peterborough, the area where I grew up. I got management’s (verbal) approval to work from home, as I and all my colleagues had done during lockdown, on the condition that I came into the office for monthly team and any other important meetings I needed to attend, and on the understanding that the situation may change at any time.
Last year, the situation changed; we were asked to come into the office twice a month. This was for those of us who did not live locally; everyone else had to go in more frequently. But twice a month? No problem. It’d be nice to see everyone every now and again.
But I could see trouble on the horizon, so stuck my CV on a couple of those Get-a-New-Job apps. The problem was that were I to take a job locally, I’d lose out on London-weighting with my salary. Consequently, nothing I saw or was contacted about tickled my fancy or indeed my wallet, for that matter.
Then in January, the goal posts got moved again. We received an email advising us that: “…the required number of days in the office as per the ‘Smart Working Policy’ are to be strictly applied.
This is 2 days per week in the office for staff and 3 days per week for managers.
The 2/3 days per week rule is to apply regardless of whether people have children, people live a long way away, people have mobility issues, and “everyone else”.”
You’ll note that two of those ‘regardless’ stipulations – mobility and proximity – apply to me. To quote Kris Kristofferson: it’s nice to learn that everybody’s so concerned about my health, .
Whilst I can legally drive, I haven’t done so for over 20 years, and in any event, my current medical condition makes it unwise for me to be in charge of a car. So, when I travel into the office, I have to use public transport, namely the UK’s glorious and notoriously cost-effective railway network.
On the days when I have to go to the office, I catch the 6:05 train from Peterborough. I get home at around 19:30, if I’m lucky and there’s been no delays.
It’s exhausting.
And: it costs me just shy of £60 each time I go into work. Do the maths: 8 trips per month at £60 a pop works out at around £480.00 per month.
The decision had been made for me. Suddenly, it no longer made economic sense for me to stay in my current job; London-weighting no longer played a part in my decision making.
This week, I was contacted by a firm who had spotted my CV online, who will offer me a salary comparable with my current one, who are happy for me to work from home 100% of the time, and if I’m succesful, will include that as a clause in my contract.
I spoke with them on Wednesday, and passed the initial screening interview. I now have a full interview with them this Friday.
I can tell you all of this now as I spoke with my line managers earlier this week to tell them where I’m at. Admittedly, this was prompted by someone within our ranks telling them that I “wasn’t happy”. To be fair, they’ve been remarkably understanding; it wasn’t them who brought in the new rules, they can’t change what has been set up by those further up the food-chain than them, but they can see why I have to leave.
I’m not in the best of moods today. I am being held together by vodka, sleepy dust and a general distrust of people with the ability to vote. Be gentle with me.
Just as we have to try and make Brexit work, idiotic as it may be, and just as we now have to swallow the idea of a racist, misogynistic, idiotic reality TV star being the most important and influential man in the world, idiotic as that may be, so we need to buckle down and get this done. Business as usual.
So (sorry, CC), last week we ended up with Dr. John’s “Such a Night”, from his “In the Right Place” album, and the usual request for your suggestions for songs which link to that, in the hope that someone might suggest the actual next record in the actual BB sponsored chain (rest easy, anti-BBC-ites, I get no sponsorship for this), but without caring too much about that really.
There seems to be only one place to start today. Here’s The Swede:
“‘Such a Night’ was produced by Allen Toussaint , who also wrote (among many other classics) ‘Yes We Can’ by Lee Dorsey. The song was later covered brilliantly by The Pointer Sisters, though Lee’s version is the one for me.”
In case you’re wondering why I say that’s the best place to start, much like Bob the Builder, “Yes We Can” was Obama’s slogan back in 2008. I don’t think Hillary had a slogan, did she? Maybe that’s where she went wrong. But then again, “There’s a perfectly legitimate reason why I deleted those emails” was never going to resonate with the US voting public in quite the same way as “I am a vile, groping, orange excuse for a human being” seems to have done.
That’s the last mention of it, I promise.
The remainder of this week’s suggestions can, broadly, be bracketed together. Whilst some went down the New Orleans route, the majority plumped for either links to “Doctor” or links to “John” with a few (okay, more than a few) exceptions that proved the rule. Whatever that means.
So, to the Doctor links. And we’ll start with SWC “outing” Badger as a secret Dr. Hook fan:
“Hurrah a chance for Badger to finally express in words his secret love of Dr Hook.”
As it happens, Badger didn’t take the bait, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say there’s nothing wrong with a bit of Dr. Hook. Anyone else agree?
“I also have a secret love to Dr. Hook. Therefore I suggest ‘You Ain’t Got the Right’ because it meant a lot to me when I had the blues” offers Walter/Kuttowski
Thanks Walter! Hope this doesn’t rake up too many bad memories then:
The next one could fit in either the Doctor or the John category. Prompted by this comment, also from SWC:
“We could obviously go down the Dr John Cooper Clarke route. But I don’t know any of his songs. I do know that he has just released a record with Hugh Cornwell that is supposed to be quite good.”
Charity Chic knows some though, and he suggested thusly:
“Dr John Cooper Clark – You Will Never See a Nipple in the Daily Express”
“I’ll go rather fittingly down the doctor route. And I will steer away from Dr’s Hook, Feelgood and the Medics and suggest again rather aptly: Call the Doctor by Spacemen 3”
Happy birthday, Badger. We’ll ignore the Gary Glitter sample there, obviously, as it leads me rather smartly on to my first suggestion of the week, which needs no introduction:
Okay, so maybe no introduction, but maybe a nerdo explanation. The main sound plug from that is the 1970s Tom Baker Doctor-era’s theme tune, created by the BBC’s Radiophonic Workshop. More than any other TV theme tune, that version makes me want to hide behind the sofa.
Also, Orbital, having mysteriously regenerated into an act who could play live again after they split up ten years or so earlier, performed this at Glastonbury in 2010, with an actual Doctor in the house:
Here with more Doctor-based shenanigans, is Alyson:
“Got a double link but no long drawn out reason for it, just that the band is Dr Feelgood and the song is Back in The Night.”
And so to the Johns. But first, one of those suggestions that doesn’t really fit anywhere else. Here’s The Great Gog:
“I noticed that this song [the Dr John one, remember?] features on the music video of a film called 3000 Miles To Graceland. This set me thinking about suggesting a certain Proclaimers song six times, a certain Big Country song seven and a half times, or a certain Pretenders song one and a half times. See what erratic sleep patterns do to you?
Ultimately though the far more obvious suggestion is the rather lovely Graceland from The Bible.”
Thank Gawd for that, for I have no idea which Big Country record you’re referring to (I got the other two!)
Now, ordinarily, I wouldn’t allow multiple suggestions for the same artiste, but today, well today’s different, for today the first of these is about John Cooper Clarke. It’s not often I get to post a GCSE approved poet, so I’ll let it slide this time.
I imagine Dirk will be happy with that suggestion.
And so, to the rest. Over to Charity Chic (again):
“So The Animals and Dr John are by no means the only artists to extol the virtues of New Orleans. So Native American band Redbone pitch in with The Witch Queen of New Orleans.”
Would have gone for “The Night” myself, but there you go.
“And on the artist himself – Dr. John released a tribute album to Louis Armstrong a couple of years ago. One of the songs he covered was Mack The Knife. I can’t think of anything better to include here than the wonderful original by Satchmo himself.”
Who wants to suggest the worst record of the week?
George does.
“I’ve got the worst song for you this week. The band Racey also recorded a song called Such a Night, but I suspect most of us know them for Lay Your Love On Me. Truly terrible”
Personally, I remember them for “Some Girls” and for the lead singer’s (third one in on that picture) ability to eat an apple through a tennis racket.
But who knew there were so many links between Dr John and Racey? Here’s Rigid Digit:
“Racey also recorded a track called “Kitty” on their debut album. With a bit of gender re-orientation and a video a featuring Cheerleaders it became the one and only hit for Toni Basil, ‘Hey Mickey'”
Somewhere in the back of my mind this struck a chord, so I checked it out, and scarred though I now am for having listed to four Racey songs on the trot, he’s not wrong. It’s a bit like Scott English’s “Brandy” being changed to Barry Manilow’s “Mandy”, although apparently any rumours about English’s original being about his dog are purely fictional.
Anyway, here’s Toni Basil, in all her cheer-leading, one hit wonderness:
“…and from such truly dreadful stick-pins-in-your-eyes [I’ve told you before George, if you don’t like hearing something, go for the ears every time over the eyes] song to this: The Drifters recorded a song called Such a Night, with the legendary Clyde McPhatter on lead vocal. And as a solo artist Clyde McPhatter recorded “The Treasure Of Love'”
And since people are coming back for another go, here’s Alyson:
“…my only real memory of Dr John is when he appeared on the BBC Charity record Perfect Day, where he popped in 2oth and then 26th order in the line-up. Very scarily that was made in 1997, nearly 20 years ago. That does link to Lou Reed and his original version which popped up in the film Trainspotting the year before and I don’t know about you but I feel bombarded today with trailers for Trainspotting 2 (in a good way). Will go with Lou Reed and Perfect Day as well if you have time?”
I cannot wait for that to land. The first film is one of my favourite films ever, and I was already excited about it, but when I saw that, which has just enough call backs to the first film to intrigue me even further…well, I’ve already started scouring the local cinema listings waiting for it to appear.
Here’s Dirk. Dirk has a different way of dealing the idea of linking records together. Whilst the rest of us ponder the staple tune and think of songs to link to it, Dirk seems to decide on what record he wants to hear then just make up any old stuff to get to it:
“Rumour has it that said Jim in the tune was not only angry about Dr. John trying to steal his woman, in fact he was incandescent with fury, so much so that he nearly was about to explode! A true story, of course, which some time later led Jack White to write “Jimmy The Exploder”, so there you are ….”
Right, well, if you’re having that, then I’m having this. If Jimmy exploded, then you would need something or someone to clear that Mr Creosote-esque mess up. And who better, then, than Jimmy The Hoover?
Since I allowed two poems by John Cooper Clarke in earlier, I don’t suppose I can get all sniffy about another Dr. Feelgood suggestion, can I? Here’s Walter/Kuttowski, back for seconds, and, as it turns out, those creative juices must be flowing, thirds:
“My first thought was on Dr. Feelgood and Wilco Johnson (his real name is John Wilkinson) a band that was the link between pubrock and early punk. I suggest their Sneaking Suspicion.”
“Thinking about ‘night’ Saturday night comes to my mind. Don’t worry but I won’t suggest the Bee Gee’s at this place. I remember The Leyton Buzzards another band that was active in the late 70’s. Therefore I suggest ‘Saturday Night Beneath The Plastic Palm Trees.'”
I was more worried you might suggest Whigfield, to be honest.
Rigid Digit’s back, and thankfully this time he doesn’t come armed with any Racey-based factoids:
“Dr John’s real name is Malcolm John “Mac” Rebennack (thank you wikipedia). Malcolm is one of those un-Rock n Roll names – there are a few but not many. Malcolm Young – a choice AC/DC track to follow next? Malcolm McLaren – sticking with the previous possible Animal link, how about Buffalo Gals?”
As you haven’t actually suggested it, you can have the album version rather than the catchier single version:
Whilst we’re on Malcolms, here’s Rol, who wins this week’s “Most Blatant Plug for his own Blog” Award.
“I thought I’d see how many songs I could come up with that mentioned a Malcolm in the lyrics. I thought there’d be very few; turns out I could easily populate a Top Ten… although a lot of them would be about Malcolm X.”
As it happens, he was going somewhere with this, so I’ll allow this subtle slice of product placement.
“‘Malcolm Solves His Problems With A Chainsaw’ by the Arrogant Worms is worthy of a mention though.”
“Dr John’s 2012 album Locked Down was produced by Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys. Dan was also the name of Alan Partridge’s one time best friend (“Dan. Dan. Dan. DAN. DAN…”). Alan Partridge when not presenting Skirmish, a military based general knowledge quiz show on digital cable television channel UK Conquest, could be found behind the wheels at Radio Norwich where, among extolling the virtues of other deep cuts, he implored listeners to “kommen sie bitte und listen to Kraftwerk”. Cue, The Model…”
Actually, if you go on that there YouTube, someone has done a mix of The Model with the Partridge quote to which you allude sampled on it, over and over and over and over and over again, ad nauseum. It’s too annoying to post a link too. I bear no responsibility for you seeking it out yourself this way.
Now. I was all ready to apologise to Rol for posting ten songs earlier today about how annoyed I am with certain world events, but having just checked his blog, I need not have worried. Turns out, there’s plenty of songs we can use to illustrate what a dick Trump is.
Anyway, here’s Rol, with the last two suggestions of the week:
“1. In the lyrics to Such A Night, Dr. John sings “You came here with my best friend Jim, and here I am, trying to steal you away from him…”
One famous Jim who’s obviously lost his woman to another man (even though he claims it’s nobody else’s fault) is Jimmy Buffet in the song Margaritaville.”
Anyway, as I pack the cigar away (not a Clinton reference), all that’s left for me to do is invite you to submit your suggestions for songs that link to The Band’s “Up On Cripple Creek”, along with your description of the link which needs to get past my incredibly rigorous vetting process, via the Comments section down below.
And, I guarantee, unless anyone suggests the same record, I have the worst one for next week already down.
A History of Dubious Taste 