Music Meme

Maniac Mum tagged me to take part in this meme.

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring. Post these instructions in your blog along with your 7 songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they’re listening to.

Hmmm. Well, the thing is, my tastes in music are somewhat... eclectic? A would just say weird, but every one is entitled to their own opinion. I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I've decided that you're jut going to get it as it is.

Which may actually go a long way towards providing a highlight to the fevered state my brain is in most of the time.

One of the tunes currently ringing around my head is The Fratellis' Chelsea Dagger, a reminder of the Year 5 residential last month. Imagine a conga line of 10 year olds: "Da da-da da da dad-da da da da..."



As a complete contrast, I have been writing reports (now finished, and handed in on time, hurrah!) to a lot of Ralph Vaughan-Williams. I first heard his work as a child in primary school, and I'd forgotten until recently how much I liked it. Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tullis is lovely, as is The Lark Ascending, but I thought I'd treat you to this, the first movement of the English Folk Song Suite. One of the things I love about RVW is that, although not religious, he loved uplifting Church music and created some lovely arrangements for a popular hymnal from some of the music from the bawdiest folk songs that he had discovered!



One of the albums I am repeatedly playing at the moment is Freedom Fields by Seth Lakeman. I still haven't got to see him live yet, so here is a live performance of Lady of the Sea.



I love live music, and I never get to see enough of it. The last band I went to see as the Proclaimers, and I'm still giddy from it, even though it was nearly a year ago. There are many Proclaimers songs I could list, but this one is possibly my favourite (well, today, anyway).



A few years back, I dabbled in the music industry myself. No, seriously. A and I invested in a company that had been set up to make and promote a CD made by a London based band, Clear, that my friend played in. The band got some airplay on local radio stations, and even onto the soundtrack for the Channel 4 series Teachers, but unfortunately, the chance to give up the day jobs never came. Shame really, because I really liked their music. This was their first release, "Johnny Marr Was A Mistake", apparently a quote from some guy who thought that guitar music was dead, and that Marr, unmistakeably a genius, was in fact a bizarre anomaly. Eejit. I have a couple of copies of the album this appeared on, Coming Around, and one lives permanently in the car for those times when I end up driving in a bad mood. It invariably cheers me up. N, I hope you don't mind me sharing this, but finding it on YouTube was a gift, especially since I'd only ever seen stills from the shoot.



But Clear was not my first venture into the music business. Oh no. I have actually notched up a Top 10 single. Well, a B side anyway. Long time readers may remember me mentioning John Otway in the past, and in the early part of 2002, around a thousand people made their way to Abbey Road studios (A and I included) to see a small gig and take part in a recording of one of his live set highlights - The House of The Rising Sun, which has evolved over the years into a set piece of audience heckling. This became the B-side to his second hit, Bunsen Burner, which we managed to hype up to Number 9 for his 50th brthday in the October of that year. This video was recorded downstairs at the London Astoria on the night of the Abbey Road recordings and I am actually somewhere at the back of that crowd. This is another song that never fails to raise a smile and I have fallen back on it a lot during the assessment period this year.



And finally, because Boggy Marsh has recently been on Wake Up to Wogan, the theme to this top show is now firmly embedded in my mind - scroll to the fourth parchment to hear it in all its glory!

Of course, being a meme, I have to tag people, so I tag Scarletti, Stomper Girl, Hanna, HansuN and my friend Lou. And I know that's not 7, but I don't care!

If you get the chance...

...go and see The Proclaimers live.

I dragged A along last night as we met up with V & C for the first time in over a year (and indeed with another couple, whom we haven't seem since we moved away from Macclesfield over 5 years ago). We went to Victoria Hall, which I have to say is the first time I have ever got out of the car in Stoke. (As an aside, a colleague made a comment about how I seem to know lots of rough places in Britain. I'd like to point out that I know OF a lot of rough places in Britain, it doesn't mean I spend a lot of time there - Stoke obviously proves a point! No offence to any readers from this glorious city, you understand...)

Anyway, I'm rambling again.

The gig was brilliant!

I first saw The Proclaimers about 6 years ago, with C (I think one, if not both of our respective spouses were away at the time) at the Manchester Acadamy 3 - or the Hop and Grapes in the Student Union as it was when I was doing my teacher training. I actually think that gig has the edge, since it was smaller and a bit more intimate. It has to be said, we had tickets last night for the standing area so were surprised to go in and find row upon row of seats. Not that my old knees didn't appreciate the chance to sit down you understand, but nevertheless, it fell rather... genteel. I soon sorted that though, by jumping up and down as much as space (and my knees) would allow. I think I have to accept that my moshing days are probably over.

Even A was seen to clap along and join in the words of the one Proclaimers song he knows and although he won't admit it, I think he may have enjoyed himself...

Did you feel the earth move?

Last Friday I was in the centre of Manchester at 11.50am when the city was hit by an earthquake measuring 2.5 on the Richter scale. Although the epicentre was in the east of the city, the tremors were felt in the city centre, reports stated.

Well, not by me, they weren't.

I have slept through a number of minor earthquakes in Britain before now, and we missed the 13 or so that hit Manchester in October 2002 as we were in Italy at the time, but I think last Friday has to be the first time I've actually been awake and present on the spot so to speak, and the earth still didn't move for me, darling.

There was another reason for the earth to tip on its axis on Friday, at least in the Manchester area. I moved to the North West nearly 20 years ago and Tony Wilson was almost immediately on the radar - in fact it was hard to watch the regional news or listen to music and NOT know who he was, or have an opinion on the self-promoting eejit. But time softens many things, including people's attitudes and in recent years I have viewed Tony Wilson as a vital part of the region's fabric, someone who felt it important to promote the area (and this coming from a southern girl). And he was behind Factory Records and The Haçienda, and for that I think I could forgive him anything. He was a character and will be sorely missed.

I am currently reading Stuart Maconie's Pies and Prejudice and the almost constant references to Anthony H Wilson in the section I read at the weekend are poignant, to say the least.

RIP Mr Manchester.

Oldest Swinger in Town..

Last Saturday, A and I schlepped to Old Trafford to see Genesis. I have never paid so much for gig tickets and, based on how I felt when we went to go and see Duran Duran at th eMEN arena three years ago, I knew I needed a comfy seat - sadly the back can't cope with continued standing in one spot these days.

Combined with the beginings of an exhaustion migraine which resulted from sleeping for over 12 hours the night/morning before, I wasn't expected value for money.

Oh boy was I wrong. It was brilliant.

And A and I weren't the oldest swingers in town, by any stretch of the imagination. With the exception of a couple of 10 year olds, we were quite a bit younger than most of the rest of the audience. Funny sights included the most miserable pair of old gits I've ever seen attend a gig - they never stood up, clapped, sang, cheered - £65 is a hell of a lot of money to pay to be miserable, that's all I can say. Also spotted was a couple in matching padded country jackets (not barbours, but a style much associated with country ladies d'un certain age in both Oxfordshire and Chesire) who loved it but left about half-way through and a lovely lady of approximately 60, jiving away in her twinset and pearls clutching a cup of tea.

We saw Genesis 15 years ago at Roundhey Park, when they were promoting their last studio album with Phil Collins. Then they played stuff primarily from the 80s and the We Can't Dance album, but last week they played LOADS of early stuff. Class. I never thought I'd have the opportunties to hear Carpet Crawlers live. OK, it wasn't Gabriel, but it's still a stunner of a song...

Soundtrack: Abacab - Genesis; Mardy Bum - Arctic Monkeys; Making History - Clear; Debaser - The Pixies

Otway

I was thrilled to find another Otway fan out there! Thanks Mrs T, although I'm guessing pogo-ing to Otway is probably out of the question for you right now.

Any how, after I wrote my last post, I had a brainwave and went looking for this on YouTube. I was not disappointed.

Part of Otway's appeal is that he never changes. He started off performing in black trousers and a white M&S men's shirt and 30 years later he's still doing it (albeit with rather less hair). Looking at the chart for the week The Hit reached the heady heights of number 27 (w/e 17th December 1977), it was rather eclectic fashion wise. Punk was waning (shame really, as Stiff Records had pigeonholed Otway as a punk artist) and there was a fair smattering of disco, retro and all sorts. To give an indication, the charts that week included Wings, Bee Gees, Darts, Showaddywaddy, Chic, Status Quo, Queen, the Barron Knights, Boomtown Rats, Elvis Costello, Diana Ross, Donna Summer and the Brighouse And Rastrick Brass Band with The Floral Dance. Otway stood out rather, in more ways than one.

Anyway, about the time of The Hit, or maybe a little later, Otway and Barrett went on that great stalwart of "grown up" music shows, The Old Grey Whistle Test, playing a popular song from their live set, Cheryl's Going Home (later turned into a rock opera by Otway in collaboration with Attila the Stockbroker). You have to remember that Wild Willy Barratt was (and indeed still is) a serious musician and that Otway was, well, Otway, really. He had been told by a gypsy that his future lay with a long-haired blond, so he took that to mean Wild Willy and badgered him into forming a duo. Otway, however did prove to much for him and the relationship is probably best summed up by the record that has Wild Willy sawing up Otway's guitar in the background.

Anyway. I beg of you to watch this and watch it in its entirety. It will give you a real flavour of what an Otway gig is like, including the forward rolls and an ambitious hurdle across the amp, which did make it into one of those 100 most excrutiating moments ever type shows, probably voted for by sympathetic male viewers.

Go on.

Watch it.

It's less than 5 minutes long. The tea can wait just that bit longer.

May Day

When I was a child, in fact, when I was first at school in the Infants, we used to have our country dancing actually on May Day. I always wanted to be big enough to dance around the maypole, but I was never chosen (sob).

Scarred for life.

But there are other May Day traditions that began to replace it, the main one being going into Oxford very early, to hear the choristers sing on the top of Magdalen Tower at 6 am and then have a dance in front of the Radcliffe Camera (Cumberland Square Eight was my particular speciality). The first time I went was the day after my 18th birthday, so I kind of lumped it altogether with my birthday celebrations, although I did go to sleep in between.

It's hard to explain May morning in Oxford unless you've been there. I think it's magical, but many others do just see it as an excuse to drink huge amounts - after all, the pubs open at 6 am (if they even closed). The last time I went was the morning after my 30th, when I went in on my own (A wouldn't get out of bed!) and went to go and see John Otway at the Gloucester Arms. I've never been to a gig that starts at 6.30 am before. It was a slightly surreal experience, made all the more so because I had lingered on Magdalen Bridge to hear the choir and consequently arrived at the pub just as the gig was starting (it's impossible to run up the High on May morning). the pub was full to capacity and a burly looking Hell's Angel type, all leathers shaved head and ZZ Top beard, was on the door.

"You can't come in, love, we're full"

"Oh no, you can't be" (points to badge on jumper, thrusts chest towards doorman) "it's my birthday and my mates are in there" (God strike me down for lying)

"We-ell..."

"How about if I give you a kiss?" (brazen hussy!)

"Er..."

In his confusion after, the doorman just didn't stop me as I walked past.

But I couldn't miss Otway on a May morning. It's hard to categorise Otway, really. He can't sing, but he is such a lunatic performer that you can't fail to laugh at his gigs. And he's managed to make a living from it for over 30 years, so all power to him. I first saw him 20 years ago today at Aylesbury Civic Centre, with my bf of the time and one of his mates. That night he sang "Josephine", about a girl who is to be crowned Queen of the May at the tender age of 17. Sod the fact that my name was Nic, he was singing this love song to me, surely?! After all, it was May Day and I was (literally) just 17! Ah, fanciful dreams.... I also laughed like a drain when he sat on his speakers and inadvertently pulled some ceiling tiles down when he punched the air in excitement...

God I loved being 17.

Tired and Not Ready...

For school, that it. I am just not mentally ready at all, so whether I am physically ready is immaterial really.

Right now, I want to work out a way to make a living sitting and listening to folk music and knitting. The closest A and i have got to it is a small holding with alpaca, but I have no idea how many alpaca I'd need to make a living and at an average of £4,000 for a female (albeit pregnant), I don't think it's viable unless I win the lottery.

Ah well...

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Yesterday was a brilliant day. A was flying out to the US, so he didn't get to join us, but I took Mum and Dad to an event at Cecil Sharp House, which is the home of the English Folk Dance and Song Society, in Camden Town. (Seems unlikely, so close to the buzz that is Camden market, but that's London for you - very... mixed!) Anyway, it was an event celebrating the life of Cyril Tawney, a folk singer who died a couple of years ago. I grew up listening to Cyril Tawney songs, since my Dad felt a great affinity for his songs, particularly those he'd written about his time in the Royal Navy. We never got to see him (by the time I'd thought to use the internet to track him down, he was becoming ill. His last gig was a maritime festival in Lancaster that was the same weekend as a family friend's wedding in Aylesbury, a good 200 miles away, so we missed the boat, so to speak.

But yesterday made up for it.

I laughed, I cried, I danced, I sang.

Dad loved it, as I knew he would, but so did Mum (to her surprise, I think!), since it was like an enormous party, the kind people of her generation went to, I guess, where people sang rather than deafen the neighbours with a stereo. Some of the acts were well-known on the folk circuit, others beyond to those people who only brush the edges,such as Norma Waterson and Martin Carthy, others still, were simply the bedrock of British folk - those people who turn out to the club and just sing, for the love of the song.

And then, there was Les Barker.

If you have never seen or heard Les Barker performing his poems, you have missed out, big time. I first saw him when a group of friends and I camped at Towersey Festival in 1990 (A good start at festival going, I thought - stay just a mile and half from home, then you can get back for a shower...). We howled with laughter, and I've never met anyone who doesn't.

A grand day out, indeed.

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On a more reflective note, the sun shone again, today, as it often does. In memory of 96 people who went to watch a match and never came home, RIP.

Told you...

Tropical Brainstorm by Kirsty MacColl

Album Update

Whilst considering the albums I think fit the bill of Perfect Album (no fillers, every track worth its place - as opposed to A, who could only come up with making his own perfect album from a compilation of favourite tracks) I can't believe I didn't include the most excellent Rumours by Fleetwood Mac.

Mind you, I've probably missed loads of others, too...

Musing on Memories

When I was working for the Local Authority in my previous job, I missed the day in day out contact with the same set of children ... that indefinable thing that is generally what makes people choose to teach in the Primary sector rather than the Secondary sector.

But having been back in the classroom 18 months today, I realise that I miss a number of things from my old job. I miss the buzz of leading training courses and the chance during the holidays to spend time on a piece of professional thinking (that sounds really poncy, but when you're teaching your own class, it's so hard to just sit and reflect on new research and so on). In particular, I miss some of my former colleagues.

When I worked in the Advisory Service, the Consultant team was a mix of men and women. For most of the time I was the youngest Consultant there, but there was a nice balance of ages which contributed to the banter.

And oh, do I miss the banter.

Don't get me wrong, I work with some great people now. But we are a wholly female staff (including the caretaker) and I miss working with blokes. I miss 3 in particular, who made the times I was in the Office completing paperwork bearable: Mr Grumpy (who was a teddy bear really), Biker Boy and Mr Smooth, who could have me rolling on the floor with just a raised eyebrow.

Blokes have a different perspective on things and between these 3 (plus my stalwart friend whose desk butted onto mine), I could chat about music, books, theatre, film ... in other words those things that I enjoy but often leave A cold. Actually, that's not fair on A - he does enjoy going to the theatre sometimes and he likes music, but a lot of what I like music wise he just hates. What he likes is a tiny subset of what I like (to get all mathematical about it).

I also miss the flirting that you get when you and your colleagues have reached that stage in life and relationships that you're all secure enough to trade double entendres and know it won't cause offence or mean you daren't take the lift with them. A bit of gentle flirting oils the wheels of a working environment - it did in my previous life pre-teaching too.

So why the musings? Well, I miss talking about the best 10 albums in the world ever or whether Mrs Tulliver from Mill on the Floss needed a good slap or who was seen at the theatre at the weekend (and I'm talking audience as well as performers). I haven't had a good list-type conversation for ages (you know, top 10 holiday destinations, who would you be stranded on a desert island with, best gig you'd ever been to type of thing) - it just doesn't seem the kind of conversation the people I work with now have.

So in honour of Mr Grumpy, Biker Boy and Mr Smooth, here is my current list of nominations for Perfect Album (no fillers, no saggy bits, no tracks you don't mind missing to go and put the kettle on ). they are in no particular order , mainly because it changes every day! Some of these I had on LPs in the dim and distant past, but have been played so much they are showing their age. All of these are ones that got copied onto my iPod pretty soon after I got it, but they are also ones that make it into the CD player on a Sunday morning when I'm reading the paper.

Revolver: The Beatles
Led Zeppelin IV
The Stone Roses: The Stone Roses
Coming Round: Clear
The Joshua Tree: U2
Woodface: Crowded House
Green: REM
Hatful of Hollow: The Smiths
Greatest Hits: Squeeze
Dear Catastrophe Waitress: Belle and Sebastian
Bellybutton: Jellyfish
(What's the Story) Morning Glory?: Oasis

So go on then - what do YOU think is the Perfect Album?

Afterthought

Wasn't the video for the magnificent You Have Killed Me (mentioned in dispatches here) set in a 70s Eurovision contest? Perhaps he was trying to tell us something...

Still disturbed by such a great poet entering the cheese-fest.

But, dear reader, happier times are here - my 27 charges and I are back in our own (admittedly still whiffy) classroom today.

OK, I needed to have all the windows open ("What do you mean it's cold? Just write quicker!") and I needed a quick squirt of Oust at the end of the day, but nevertheless...

Last Night I Dreamt That....

... I'd been watching an item on the regional news about Morrissey's attempt to represent the UK in the Eurovision. I laughed so hard I couldn't turn on the computer to blog about it.

This morning, even Wogan was talking about it.

A truly incongruous image is still lodged in in my mind.

And it's unsettling.

Like imagining Hannibal Lecter doing Saturday morning kids' TV.

Woo-hoo!!!

I did it, I did it!

I got round the Race For Life course this morning, and I'm still buzzing :-) I completed it in 39 mins 42.8, which is about 50 seconds slower than last year - no mean feat since this year's training has been minimal (um, none since February), I am somewhat heftier than last year and I ran then walked for alternate songs, whereas I ran all of it last year.

But I don't care! I did it, purely powered by my iPod in all honesty and it was absolutely pouring down too. So if you ever need to cover 5km in less than 40 minutes, this is what I suggest you have to accompany you:

Thin Lizzy: The Boys Are Back In Town
The Libertines: Can't Stand Me Now
Oasis: She's Electric
Shania Twain: Man! I Feel Like A Woman!
The J Geils Band: Centrefold
Survivor: The Eye of The Tiger
The Levellers: One Way
The Boo Radleys: Wake Up Boo!
The B-52's: Love Shack
The Proclaimers: Sunshine on Leith

I know the last one seems not to fit tempo wise, but was just what I needed to carry me over the line in a haze of emotion (why do I blubber doing Race for Life when I never blub at any other race?) . If you fancy chucking some sponsor money this way to help me reach my target, that would be great!

What has happened to Morrissey?

Now, I was never into the Smiths when they were together. Much as I'd like to think that the fact I didn't appreciate the ironic lyrics and amazing melodies until 1992 demonstrates my unerring sense of cool - after all, I didn't feel the need to end my life when they ceased recording - I suspect it just indicates a deeper mid-80s fixation with really crap music (Nik Kershaw, anyone?)

Anyway, I was never really into them then, but you would have to have spent the 80s on Mars not to have an image of Morrissey on TOTP with flowers stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans somewhere in the memory banks. But I'm rambling...

Today, I watched the video of You Have Killed Me and was struck by a thought. He always looked about 6ft 4 then - so why now does he only look about 5ft 9? I guess it's the trick of the eye based around the fact that then, he probably weighed 8st dripping wet, and now he's a normal size.

Then I was struck by a second thought.

When did he nick Denis Healy's eyebrows?