(Actually wrote this sometime last spring but never posted it….as a memorandum from a pointless evening, it is perhaps worth posting. Very slightly perhaps. )
Bit of a sniffle. Somehow from a very early age – like, the first 48 hours or so – I began singing her to sleep with a song my Mum used to sing my brother to sleep with – Morningtown Ride, by the Seekers. [If you’re too young to remember it’ its here – but it will make you run screaming from the room so think before you click.]
Now, those thoughts…
Back in the 1970s we used to have tv programmes like New Faces and Studio One for all the low talent exhibitionists out there.
A mate of mine and I once dreamt up a story plot about a survivor of 1970s drug culture who still had acid flashbacks after dropping a tab and watching New Faces. The guy would have visions being overwelmed by dozens of healthy brylcreamed and be-tied Catholic kids zooming apple cheeked into ‘Moma’s Little Baby Loves Shortnen’ Bread’….but I digress…
. Now we have Shortland Street for those low talent exhibitionists, only we no longer have a judging panel with Phil Warren to be rude about them. Mind you Phil Warren called Split Enz “too clever” when they were on Studio One, which was about the worst insult you could give anyone in New Zealand in the 1970s. We have made some progress.
We may even have come of age as a Nation. Again. Didn’t we do that at Gallipoli? And Paschendale? And when Jack Lovelock won at the 1935 Olympics? When the Second Division broke out at Minqar Quaim? When Hillary climbed Everest? When…oh fill in the rest yourself, I’m getting tired of this one.
Now. Shortland St. That young 17-year-old bloke who is shagging his mate’s gorgeous mum. Hands up all those who were once 17-year-old blokes and who would change places with the guy in an instant. I thought so. Now put up your other hands, or at least keep them where I can see them.
Oh, and there’s a serial killer loose on Shortie street at the moment. But its kind of dragging on, there’s three (I think) people dead and no-one, especially not the woman police officer, who only seems to get worried about it…
The woman playing the police officer is to acting what Gerry Brownlee is to endurance athletic events. Maybe she…actually that’s it: she’s the serial killer, I’m sure of it.
“Train whistle Blowing
Makes the sleepy noise
Underneath the blankets
Are all the girls and boys…”
Little Treasure’s gone nigh-nighs…. Or at least, quiet.
So. Surf Rescue Piha. Not only are there people doing silly things in the water and drowning, there is now a fire behind the town. This programme is brought to you by the Stay Away From Piha If You Want to Live Foundation.
Channel flicking. Some crap forensic ‘I can see the killer’s DNA on the footprints of this dead cockroach and by the way my love life is a total shambles so I’m going to shag a workmate’ cop show.
Over on J2, music channel….Oooh, Texas covering Al Green’s Tired of Being Alone. The sheila doing the singing has nowhere near as good a singing voice, (not that she’s bad, she’s just not Al Green) but better looking, in a ‘soulful woman just hauled herself out of the scratcher’ kind of way.
Go to sleepy byes.
“….All bound for morning town
Many miles away….”
Phil Collins doing Sue Sue Sudiyou…..aarrrggh. I’ve done nothing to deserve this, at least not in this lifetime. ….
This time I’m singing ‘Morningtown Ride’ to myself….hmm. did I mention I broke out the Glenmorangie a bit earlier?
Well, if not, I broke out the Glenmorangie a bit earlier. Nectar of the gods. Not those po-faced finger-wagging gods, but the Greek ones, who like a party and a laugh.
Woohoo! A decent one. REM’s ‘Nightswimming’. Could really do with something a bit more upbeat – there’s a metaphor about driving through a town the singer has a past connection with, and he puts photos of old friends on the dashboard so he can see the reflection, looking back…
It’s a metaphor which doesn’t work all that well. But can’t ruin the song. It’s not their best – my favourite is Perfect Circle, off Murmur, but this is still pretty good.
The whole song has a very similar vibe as Cold Chisel’s magnificent ‘Flame Trees’, ….their farewell song when they split, Barnes’s most soulful vocal ever, a tale of regret for past mistakes….
But oh, who needs that Sentimental Bullshit anyway?
And ‘Nightswimming’ has all these underwater shots of people swimming, but not like most videos with underwater shots of people swimming…not like, say Dire Straits ‘Twisting by the Pool’…. these aren’t models. They look real.
Really rambling now, aren’t I, jeez this Glenmorangie is great stuff, bottle getting a bit low though.
Missed the start of this one, popped out to wring out the sock, but this one is some mid-90s singer woman of the “I’m Pretty But I’m Sensitive” school of looking pleadingly soulfully into the camera, wailing about some tragic love affair and showing only the slightest hint of nipple…
Speaking of which, now its Madonna…. And it’s the only Madonna song I ever liked, producing a “I can’t believe it’s a Madonna song!” moment…. the song from one of the Austin Powers movies…’Beautiful stranger’. There’s something about the guitars on this which are quite Rolling Stones Beggars Banquet era….
Madonna is now licking Austin Power’s face, it is like watching a jersey calf licking the feeding trough…just don’t bunt the guy in the nuts, like those jersey calves do…
I’d just like to say I’ve always found Madonna about as sexy as chopped liver.
Mmm… Chopped Liver….
OK, make that ‘about as sexy as cabbage’.
But yeah, those jersey calves. I don’t know why they do that, but they do. Really hard. They seem programmed to do it.
I reckon, back in pre- history, a calf came up to a caveman and bunted him in the nuts. A few minutes later, mankind discovered veal.
What is this, REM night? Now its…oh, one of their later ones. The film is backwards. Pfft. Some of the first videos of the rock era had the band walking backwards. Beatles on ‘Strawberry Fields’, I think also the Kinks ‘Dead End Street’ which came out around the same time. The Who doing ‘Happy Jack’…
And why does my brain retain this rubbish but can’t recall where I put the car keys?
I was six when this song came out….I’m going to drift off now, on a tide of nostalgia….
Of course, nostalgia was originally seen as a kind of sickness. But that was in the good old days….