Thursday, January 11, 2007


So this is it. The New Year is supposed to be a time when we wallow in self denial.

Thing is, I couldn't really be bothered to follow a detox programme. This seems to involve drinking tea that has been strained through bracken and pubic hair clippings for a month, feeling like death warmed up, having dog breath and a permanent headache which is, to quote the late (again) Lucien De La Peste, bangin'.

Instead, I have decided that my musical palate needs to be cleansed. For too long I've been listening to the frivolous, the ridiculous and the throwaway.

I am 43. It is time to follow the path of righteousness and, as I said two posts ago, put aside foolish things.

Inspired by the documentary Hotel California, for the next couple of weeks I'm going to listen to nothing but early '70's West Coast rock.

As any poor sod who has persevered with reading this blog knows, my taste in music veers from 60's wig-out psychedelia through to disco and disgusting pop music. It's about time I grew up and realised that heartfelt voices, acoustic strumming and beautifully observed lyrics are more beguiling than thumping Eurohouse tracks or, ahem, Petula Clark.

Over the next fourteen days, when I'm tempted to bung on a bit of Abba, or Old Skool Rave Volume 29, or Thank God It's The Sixties - Sixteen Discs For A Fiver, Including Dave, Dozy, Beaky, Mick And Titch!!!! I will instead sit through - er, sorry, *learn to adore* Crosby, Stills And Nash, Joni Mitchell, Gra"ha"m Parsnips And His Flying Dorrito Brothers and Laughing Boy Neil Young.

Say a prayer for me folks. I may end up on the other side wearing brushed denim and cheesecloth, but I'll be ready to face up to my other challenge as I head towards the menopause: trying to enjoy listening to Radio Two.

DISCLAIMER!!!! Of course, I'm not going to listen to the bloody Eagles when I'm doing me workout or sweating on the treadmill. I'm not that much of a flake bake!

Links: David Crosby, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young (pictured right)

Welcome to middle age, Betty. Glad you could join us at last.
Welcome to middle age, Betty. Glad you could join us at last.
>>for the next couple of weeks I'm going to listen to nothing but early '70's West Coast rock>>

Oh God Betty, that's set the bar rather high for blogging in 2007 - I've just laughed, in fact lol'd, at that sentence more than I have done for some time.

I give you 2 days (can't stand Joni Mitchel meself))
I hate it when Blooger dows that.
I totally missed Crosby, Stills, G/nash, Young, Freeman, Hardy & Willis etc.
Seems I was lucky.
Graham Nash looked as though he'd had "work". Crosby was "thrown out of the Byrds!" - God knows what his Dad Bing would have thought.

Good luck with Project "Crosby, Pills & Hash". I'll imagine Geoff lighting the fire while you put the flowers in the vase that you bought......today. Groundbreaking and cutting edge stuff.
Dive - don't want to be middle aged.

*sulks in corner*

Dive - don't want to be middle aged.

*sulks in corner*

Spinsterella - well, you know, to suffer is to live. I haven't actually plucked up the courage to stick on any Joni Mitchell yet. Might dip my toe in the water by playing Kings Of Leon. After all, they wear horrible semi flared jeans, but are much funnier than The Eagles.

Dive - it never happens to me. I tend to send the same e-mails twice in a row for no apparent reason though.

Kaz - you had a lucky escape, having lived through the best decade for pop music (the '60's). Freeman, Hardy & Willis was the place to get cheap shoes when I was a kid (along with Trueform and some really tacky shop called Paynes in Cannock. Still, I digress).

Murph - I must say, I thought that Graham Nash looked quite fit in my opinion, and has joined my list of dishy older men along with Charlie Gillett and Nick Lowe. Certainly he looked better than he did thirty five years ago. Perhaps it's down to clean living and the healthy California air ... or "work".

Our house will NEVER be a very very very fine house with me putting flowers in a vase and all that. Yech.
You know it'll end in tears.
Marin County, north of San Francisco is littered with these old geezers. They live in wooden stilt houses and drink jug wine.
It shouldn't be too hard to try out Joni Mitchell on the turntable. All the other blokes in the programme appeared to have done.
Arabella - blimey, is that how David Crosby lives now? I hope they gave him a good fee for being interviewed on that programme.

I already drink wine by the jug (for breakfast) so I can't seen how things will get worse.

Murph - yeah, well, she's not my type. The link I've put at the bottom of the post might explain why. I'm dead proud of those links, especially the David Crosby one. They took me all of three minutes to work out.
Oh My, you can tell the REAL old hippies here can't you. I sat through that prog mesmerised by the whole thing, including the bits where the dreams went down the pan with the jolly talented Eagles. I fucking hated weekend hippies then, and I fucking hate them now. I guess we tried and I guess we failed, but surely no-one can blame us for trying.
And Murph, would you have walked the other way if you'd seen her on the turn table, I bloody wouldn't of.
Joni Mitchell would be better if she sounded a bit more, well, rough.
What a brilliant idea for New Year self-mortification. And oh no, now you have put 'Lying Eyes' in my head.

I didn't see that programme, sounds very much like my cup of tea - I'm probably alone in liking Joni (can't stand Joan Baez now, she really warbles and makes Joni sound like Napalm Death.)

Though as kids we did used to think she was a mutant & laugh at her for hours on the cover of
For The Roses.
I can't read any of your comments through the smoky haze in here.
I only started listening to Joni Mitchell last year - it's easier than you think, don't be put off. My own NY resolution is to write a book called "Graceful Ageing". I feel it's time for my life to become more like a ROC cosmetics ad (well, I am a pouff), rather than the current amalgam of empty bottles, broken veins and cat hair.
Tom - love a lot of the music, don't particularly care for the hippy ethos. All that rolling about in mud, passing the joints and the nubile young women around. Tune in, turn on, drop off. Yuck!

Billy - I've got to come to terms with it all. Joni's on my list to listen to next. I'll reserve judgement until then.

Annie - I've had no exposure to any of this music until I met Geoff. I've got an aversion to folkie women in general. They all ended up sleeping with male musicians like bloody groupies. So needy. Still, as Vicus said, it's the music that counts. Cough.

MJ - I know ... I'm feeling a bit giggly and silly. God, I could murder a few bags of crisps now.

Murph - are you talkin' to me, or Tom?
Rhino 75 - I can't cope with ageing gracefully. I think I'll just keel over one day and that'll be it (hopefully). Anyway, if you've decided to grow old gracefully - what hope for the rest of us?
What's graceful? That "I Shall Be Old and Wear Purple" movement for ladies really gives me the pip; I'd rather go down drinking and lindy-hoppin' (was going to say swinging but you might get the wrong idea).
Yes, Betty, the hippy ethos, peace, love, freedom, music, enjoyment. Can't understand it.
And I can't understand why Tom persists with using "of" instead of "have". He knows better. He knows a proofreader. Is this a test of my hippy values?
Or you could just stop that immediately and try to come to a hastily arranged impromptu drink at The Dove, Hammersmith on Saturday at 12:30. Billy, Realdoc, Annie, Me, Llewtrah, Great She Elephant and maybe Spinsterella,Istvanski, Swipe and Jif if they say yes - and a live satellite link up for Arabella and First Nations of course? Never been a massive fan of folk. I don't even like the word folk and the images it seems to conjure up - same for folk rock. Ugh. In saying that I've got quite alot of West Coast Rock it seems on my i-pod. Far out - where's the bong?
Arabella - I don't think there's any grace in old age, is there? Which is why I only take my clothes off in the dark these days, heh heh. That lindy hopping seems a bit energetic though, doesn't it? I don't think I would've even been up to all that being thrown around when I was young.

Vicus - despite all the great music, all that the hippy ethos seemed to boil down to was young white middle class men getting wasted on drugs and treating women badly. No end to war and poverty. Don't trust youth movements. Young, white middle class men are still getting wasted on drugs and women are still getting treated badly. Some things never change.

As for Tom, as every English manager in the football league would say, the boy done brilliant.

Rockmother - I have an irrational prejudice against folk music, but then, I've got an irrational prejudice against most things. It seems to be favoured by anally retentive types who can't stand this new fangled electronic instruments and wish the poor still lived in hedges and died of the plague from what I can tell. Next!

Oh heck, a social gathering of two people I don't know is a bit intimidating for me and likely to induce a panic attack, let alone a hundred strangers (all that networking! I feel quite ill just thinking about it actually ...) For further reading: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_anxiety

Still, enjoy yourselves, if you can all fit in the pub.
Oh dear - I'll report back from the frontline for you. How about you come and we erect one of those screens they have in courtrooms for giving evidence so you can't see us but can join in? I know how you feel I'll be quaking in my green lurex socks but I am going to make myself go. Folk - dirndl skirts and earth shoes with thick socks - ughhhh!
Perhaps I could send a "representative". The last large-ish function I went to saw me heading for a table in the corner, with my back to most of the people there. Just shows what an unsociable cow I am. Anyway, after sitting there for a couple of hours I finally realised that the zip of my skirt had come undone, so that all those people I had my back on could see what colour drawers I was wearing. Serves me right.
Nevermind all that folky rubbish, get yer head around the lush sound of Primus. And if you don't like that, then there's allways the taste of Belgian beer to be sampled.
So, what's it been like wearing the musical equivalent of a hair shirt for the last day or so?

Happy New Year BTW!
Istvanski - no, I can't stray from the path of listening to all that strummy country/folk tinged stuff for at least a couple of days more. The Belgian beer would only give me trapped wind, anyway.

Ben - I listened to The Eagles Greatest Hits yesterday while doing the ironing. I feel as though I can face anything in the world now. I'm ready for Joni Mitchell ... bring it on!

Happy New Year to you as well Ben.
Bloody Vicus annoys me. If he had his way we'd all be speaking bloody chaucer.
I stabbed it with my steely knife once.
Tom - I always worry about any spelling mistakes and grammatical errors I make, just because of Vicus. I had a dead common educayshun, me. Everyone else on the internet seems to have a BA in medieval literature. What was that line I remember from Chaucer? "Iiihrr haaaaaarrre warrrrre sweeeeete as braggot or the meeeeeethe" ... the one where a bloke ends up kissing some woman's arse in the dark.

Boggins - I always thought it was a ceiling knife, whatever the fuck one of those is.
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