Just When You Thought It Was Safe

The ink wasn't even dry on that last post when I hard that Mark Linkous was dead.

Mark was the leader of a band called Sparklehorse. I didn't know him, I just bought his records. He'd try to kill himself before. His family released the news. They didn't give details.

So I got out my copy of

Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot

( yes, that is the title of the album; yes, it is all one word)
and I had a little cry.

Suicide is still an alarmingly common form of death among men. Especially young men. Me? I prefer the crying.

Destroy Everything You Touch Today

Kali, the Creator / Destroyer

I was never that sure about destruction; right from the moment I first took an engine to pieces, dismantled every cog and nut, and then I realised that what I really wanted to do was put it all together and make it work.

Punk was very good at encouraging me to destroy things, and I suppose in my twenties I learned a lot about finishing things off and Moving On, and what good things you can do with anger, if you learn how. It was very wise of the Hindu religion to have a mother goddess who was also the goddess of destruction. But I never really learned to embrace destruction; it just seemed... well, too destructive.

I'm an innovation consultant now, and one of the Big Names in innovation is an economist called Josef Schumpeter, and he wrote about "waves of creative destruction" - a marvellous idea, that as part of making the world anew, there were all kinds of things that needed to be destroyed, and swept up and tidied away, because they had their day and served their purpose, and it was good that they make room for something new.

It reminds me of a story of a Budhhist monk who always drank out of a very nice cup; one day somebody said to him: "you're not supposed to get attached to possessions. Does it not bother you that one day that cup is going to break?" And the monk said: "I know that really, it's already been broken, so I just make sure that I enjoy it as much as I can."

This is my company song, and every morning, I want to come into my office and get the whole team to sing it.

When you stop worrying about whether something in your life might get broken, maybe that's the time to destroy it, and make room for something else.

A Close Watch

Never win and never lose
There’s nothing much to choose
Between the right and wrong
Nothing lost and nothing gained
Still things aren’t quite the same
Between you and me

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I still hear your voice at night
When I turn out the light
And try to settle down
But there’s nothing much I can do
Because I can’t live without you
Any way at all

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
JOHN CALE

No Guilt

Needed new posters, so I bought them
I know the cost of stamps now
The thirty-first is when I pay the phone bill
(I told them I didn't even know anybody in Toronto)

Everyday at seven I've been watching Walter
I've been reading more and looking up the hard words
I met people who can get me on the guest list
My parents said that
They would help me pay for grad school

You know I had never washed a sweater
I never knew when my hair was too long
I got the cab calls out of my hi-fi
I learned a lot since you've been gone
I've done a lot since you've been gone

Not bitter - beat a vicious cycle
Typecast as the model couple
I'm sorry but I don't feel awful
It wasn't the end of the world
I'm sorry I can't be helpless
It wasn't the end of the world

I know someone who really met Belushi
I fixed the toilet so it doesn't always run
I moved a chair over by the window
I feel better if my laundry's done

Getting by on less sleep than I used to
I had no trouble in setting up a desk
I learned the reason for a three-pronged outlet
I got 100 on my driver's test

I got a trick to get them to deliver
I called the landlord when the water turned brown
Did you know I own some valuable records?
I've done a lot since you've been gone
I've learned a lot since you've been gone

Thank you for the chance to grow up
I'm sorry but I wasn't defeated
It wasn't the end of the world.
I'm sorry but I don't feel too awful
It wasn't the end of the world.
THE WAITRESSES

Wasteful and Useless

Okay, so this is how these things seem to work.

I decided I needed a bit of lie in this morning, as I was up for work at 5:30 yesterday morning. And I set the alarm for 8:10 and then ignored it. Got up at eleven.

Made a cup of coffee, and for no reason at all (other than it was Saturday, and I wasn't properly awake) started playing old mp3's I'd recorded off radio programmes.

I recorded this song on April 11th, 2006, and I don't remember ever listening to it. Until today.

Don't let me put you off. If you're doing battle with a cruel and vengeful God, keep battling. But today, I like this.


If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be, we're all okay
And not to worry
'Cause worry is wasteful and useless
In times like these

I won't be made useless
Won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear

My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

Poverty stole your golden shoes
But it didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn't ever after

We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing

My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters

I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray

My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken
We are never broken

We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's eyes
We are God's hands
JEWEL KIRCHNER

It's Raining Today

[Rain in the night...
I awake to the sound of it at my window.
The air is cool and clear.
And by ten o'clock, the sun is shining again.
I love the summer when it's like this.]

It's raining today
and I'm just about to forget
The train window girl
That wonderful day we met
She smiles through the smoke
From my cigarette
It's raining today.

But once ...
There was summer and you
And dark little rooms
And sleep in late afternoons
Those moments descend
On my window-pane.

I've hung around here too long

Listenin' to the old landlady's

Hard-luck stories

You out of me

Me out of you

We go like lovers

To replace

The empty space

Repeat our dreams to someone new.

It's raining today
And I watch the cellophane streets
No hang-ups for me
Cause hang-ups need company
The street corner girl's
A cold, trembling leaf
It's raining today
It's raining today
SCOTT WALKER

What Are You Like?

What are you like?
You've had a right life
And taken a long ride
But oh what a cost

And all of your life
Staring at white lines
Reading the road signs
And oh what a loss

I bought this album about three or four years ago, and I've only played it twice. It's Richard Hawley's 'Coles Corner'. I know it was very well reviewed, and I must have wanted it, because I paid full price for it, but it didn't make any impact on me.

Then, this morning, I wanted some gentle waking up music, and put it in the CD. I ignored it happily for twenty minutes, then track six made me stop and listen.

Sleeping late in the afternoon
Playing your guitar

Born under a bad sign
Born under a bad sign

Sleeping late in the afternoon
Staying out till dawn
Born under a bad sign
Born under a bad sign

It seems to say something about where I was in my teenage years, and where I'm at now. When you're growing up, songs seem to describe your life perfectly - you go "Oh my god! this is me! This is me!" But nowadays, I pick and choose what I take.

"Born under a bad sign" doesn't describe me. It never did. But "What are you like?" is a question I ask myself often. I've lived an odd life, and I feel like I'm a late starter. Was it because I read too many road signs? It could be.

Of course, when I was a teenager, I knew everything, and I knew I was going to be brilliant. I didn't, and I wasn't. But I still might.

Now you're laying in the afterglow
And there's something that she wants to know
Are you going be the one to say
You belong to me, you belong to me

Born under a bad sign
Born under a bad sign

Sleeping late in the afternoon
Playing your guitar

Born under a bad sign
Born under a bad sign
You've had a right life
Born under a bad sign

Everybody knows
Everybody knows
Everybody knows
Born under a bad sign
Born under a bad sign

Can't Buy A Thrill

I put iTunes on random play, and it served up Steely Dan. This is a wonderful album. I'm wriggling in my chair to the splintered piano playing at the start of 'Fire In The Hole'.

I decline
To walk the line
They tell me that I'm lazy

Worldly wise
I realize
That everybody's crazy

A woman's voice reminds me
To serve and not to speak:
Am I myself?
Or just another freak?

The Best of All Possible Worlds

"This world is the best of all possible worlds,
and everything in it is a necessary evil."
[F.H. Bradley]

I was runnin' thru the summer rain,
Trying to catch the evenin' train.
To kill that old familiar pain
Weavin' thru my tangled brain
I tipped my bottle back and
I smacked into a cop I didn't see.

That policeman said "Mister Cool,
If you ain't drunk, then you're a fool"
I said "If that's against the law,
Then tell me why I never saw
A man locked in this jail of yours
Who wasn't just as low down poor as me?"


And that's just when someone turned out the lights
And I wound up in jail to spend the night
And dream of all the wine and lonely girls
In this best of all possible worlds.


Well I woke up next mornin'
Feelin' like my head was gone
And like my thick old tongue was lickin'
Something sick and wrong
I told that man "I'd sell my soul
For something wet and cold as that old cell"

That kindly jailer grinned at me
All eaten up with sympathy
Then poured himself another beer
And came and whispered in my ear
"If booze was just a dime a bottle boy,
You couldn't even buy the smell"

I said "I knew there was something
I liked about this town"
But it takes more than that
To bring me down
Cuz there's still a lot of wine and lonely girls
In this best of all possible worlds.


They finally came and told me
They was gonna set me free
And I'd be leavin' town if I
Knew what was good for me
I said "It's nice to learn that everybody's
So concerned about my health"

I said " I won't be leavin'
No more quicker than I can
'Cause I've enjoyed about
As much of this as I can stand
And I don't need this town of yours
More than I never needed nothin' else"


'Cause there's still a lot of drinks that I ain't drunk
Yes and lots of pretty thoughts that I ain't thunk
And there's still so many lonely, lonely girls
In this best of all possible worlds.

Words and Music by
KRIS KRISTOFFERSON

I'm Not Lying (I'm Just Stunnin')

I wanna hold em'
Like they do in Texas Plays
Fold em' let em' hit me
Raise it baby stay with me

(I love it)
Luck and intuition play the cards
With spades to start
And after he's been hooked
I'll play the one that's on his heart

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh,
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got

Can't read my,
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)
Can't read my
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)

P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)

I wanna roll with him
A hard pair we will be
A little gambling is fun
When you're with me (I love it)
Russian Roulette is not
The same without a gun
And baby when it's love

If it's not rough it isn't fun, fun
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh,
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got

Can't read my,
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)
Can't read my
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
She's got to love nobody)

I won't tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin
I'm not lying I'm just stunnin'
With my love-glue-gunning
Just like a chick in the casino
Take your bank before I pay you out
I promise this, promise this
Check this hand cause I'm marvelous

Can't read my,
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)
Can't read my
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)

Written and performed by
LADY GAGA

Fire Brigade

Cast your mind back ten years
To the girl who's next to me in school
If I put my hand upon her leg
She hit me with a rule
Though tomorrow won't be long
You're gonna have to play it cool

You'd be fascinated by her
She could set the place on fire

People run and get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
See the buildings start to really burn
People run and get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
If you jump you've got to wait your turn

Friends all seem to laugh
I fear I'm apt to make a compromise
Try to reassure myself
My head must need some exercise
Half past ten in the morning
She just took me by surprise

Should she set the place on fire
You'd be fascinated by her...


The lights across the street
Throw a rainbow in her hair
I'd love you all to meet her
I'll be there, I'll be there

Notice that my eyes have been
A mystic blaze since Saturday
Brings the feeling we might need
The fire engines yet again
Though tomorrow won't be long
You're gonna have to play it cool

You'd be fascinated by her
She could set the place on fire

Words and Music: Roy Wood
Performed by The Move

Heavy Metal Bands

The name of every heavy metal band can be derived from this chart. [Click to enlarge] Seriously. They're not that smart.

John Martyn 1948-2009

They're dropping like flies this winter.

John Martyn was a major part of adolescence for me, and he's dead at sixty. That's bad.

I had a girlfriend who was the same age as John Martyn, once over. (Older woman, sigh...)

Somebody in my family sold him a narrowboat.
(I hope he enjoyed it.)

He was a bad tempered c*** who drank too much. (Let that be a lesson.) He was also the first white man ever signed to Island records.

And this is the song I saw him sing on the Old Grey Whistle Test, long, long ago, before I'd ever had my heart broken, and I shall go to sleep tonight singing it softly, and have a little cry.

May you never lay your head down
Without a hand to hold.
May you never make your bed out in the cold.
May you never lose your temper
If you get hit in a barroom fight.
May you never lose your woman overnight.

Well, you're just like a great, strong sister to me,
And I know that your love is true,
And you hold no blade for to stab me in my back;
I know that there's some that do.

So please, won't you please,
Won't you bear it in mind:
Love is a lesson to learn in our time.
Please, won't you please, bear it in mind for me.

Well, you're just like a great, strong brother to me,
And I know that your love is true,
And you never talk dirty behind my back;
I know that there's some that do.

So please, won't you please,
Won't you bear it in mind:
Love is a lesson to learn in our time.
Please, won't you please, bear it in mind for me.

May you never lay your head down
Without a hand to hold.
May you never make your bed out in the cold.
May you never lose your temper
If you get hit in a barroom fight.
May you never lose your woman overnight.
May you never lose your woman overnight.

Winter Kills

Too many good people dying this month. I'm sad. And cold. Here's an obscure Yazoo song about the winter. Alison Moyet and Vince Clark always managed to combine clinical coldness with depth of emotion.

After this, I'll probably want to listen to Billy MacKenzie and The Associates singing 'Gloomy Sunday'.

green in your love
on bright days
you grew sunblind
you thought me unkind
To remind you
how winter kills
lost in daydreams
you drove too fast
and got nowhere
you rode on half fare
when you got too scared
how winter kills

tear at me
searching
for weaker seams
pain in your eyes
makes me cruel
makes me spiteful
tears are delightful
welcome your nightfall
how winter kills

I'll tear at you
searching
for weaker seams
ah... winter
ah... winter kills
YAZOO

Three Strange Days

I discovered this tune in the bargain bin at Atomic Records some time in the winter of 1991-92, and bought it just for the title, and because it was 25p.

I never regretted it. In fact, if I'd ever had a seriously romatic relationship with myself, this might have been "our tune"....



I lent the CD to some friends of mine, who got married, then divorced, and I don't know which one of them to ask for it back. It's deleted now. I've ordered myself a second hand copy.

When I Googled the band name, I found out the singer died in 2001. Testicular cancer. Age 32. Shit. That's not nice. I've ordered a copy of his solo album, too. I suppose it'll be a disappointment, but it has a nice title: "Inarticulate Nature Boy".

For three strange days
I had no obligations
My mind was a blur
I did not know what to do
And I think I lost myself
When I lost my motivation
Now I'm walking 'round the city
Just waiting to come to
For three strange days

For three strange days
I couldn't put a smile on my face
So they dressed me up in all of their clothes
And took me somewhere else
And Johnny Clueless was there
With his simulated wood grain
So I pulled up a chair
And started drinking by myself
For three strange...

I've got to make it through
No matter what it takes
Oh I've got to make it through
These strange days

I lay down for a while
And I woke up on the ocean
Floating on my back
And staring at the gray
It was completely still
Except the pounding of my heart
Bringing me back to life
From three strange days
Three strange...
Three strange days
Three strange days
SCHOOL OF FISH
Words and Music: Josh Clayton-Felt

Something Following Me

Wednesday's Child

I woke up this morning with a little ditty from the Seventies going around in my head:

"I know that I

Deserve some respect

Especially when I'm wrong..."

Stealer's Wheel
(I think)

Sounding Like Bagpipes

Happy bagpipe noises from Big Country, 1983.
In memory of Stuart Adamson, 1958 - 1991.

Singer and guitar player Stuart Adamson had previously been in The Skids before he founded Big Country in 1982 with his friend Bruce Watson, who cleaned the Royal Navy nuclear submarine fleet at Rosyth naval base.

He gave up drinking the day of Live Aid, and stayed dry for more than ten years. Stuart moved to Nashville, Tennessee, where he formed a new band and remarried.

He relapsed after his second marriage broke down, and disappeared in November 2001 after watching Ireland play Iran at soccer, in an Irish bar in Atlanta with his AA sponsor. He was found dead in a hotel room in Honolulu, five weeks later.

I've never seen you look like this
Without a reason
Another promise fallen through,
Another season passes by you
I never took the smile away
From anybody's face
And that's a desperate way to look
For someone who is still a child

In a big country
Dreams
Stay with you
Like a lover's voice
Fires the mountainside
Stay alive

I thought that pain and truth
Were things that really mattered
But you can't stay here with
Every single hope you had shattered

I'm not expecting
To grow flowers in the desert
But I can live and breathe
And see the sun in wintertime

In a big country
Dreams
Stay with you
Like a lover's voice
Fires the mountainside
Stay alive

So take that look out of here,
It doesn't fit you
Because it's happened
Doesn't mean you've been discarded
Pull up your head off the floor
Come up screaming
Cry out for everything
You ever might have wanted

I thought that pain and truth
Were things that really mattered
But you can't stay here with
Every single hope you had shattered

I'm not expecting
To grow flowers in the desert
But I can live and breathe
And see the sun in wintertime

In a big country
Dreams
Stay with you
Like a lover's voice
Fires the mountainside
Stay alive

Went to My Doctor

One night I was layin' down,
I heard mama 'n papa talkin'
I heard papa tell mama,
"You gotta let that boy boogie-woogie,
Cause it's in him, and it 's got to come out."
John Lee Hooker
Boogie Chillen (1948)

I went to see my doctor this morning, because I've spent five weeks struggling with this chest infection, and nothing seems to shift it, and I spent Christmas and New Year in the company of friends who were convinced I had some rare weird Bruce Chatwin disease, and was going to succumb to pneumonia.

The doctor examined my chest very carefully, and gave me some medication and some advice , which I am going to take, and I trust that will sort me out. She also asked me to try going for a walk every day - something I have been avoiding because the damp winter air brings on violent coughing spasms - and stop taking the cough medicine I've been taking.

I need to cough, she says. Even if it means I am on my hands and knees on all fours and in pain. This is very counter-intuitive.


Unlike John Lee Hooker, I do not feel so good, and I am not going to boogie all night long.

Went to my doctor yesterday
She said I seem to be O.K.
She said
"Paul, you better look around
How long you think that you can
Run that body down?
How many nights you think that you can
Do what you been doin'
Who you foolin?"

I came back home and I went to bed
I was resting my head
My wife came in and she said
"What's wrong, sweet boy, what's wrong?"
Ah, I told her what's wrong
I said "Peg, you better look around
How long you think that you can
Run that body down?
How many nights you think that you can
Do what you been doin'
Now, who you foolin?"

Kid, you better look around
How long you think that you can
Run that body down?
How many nights you think that you can
Do what you been doin'
Who you foolin?
PAUL SIMON

Davey Graham 1940 - 2008

I never knew who Davey Graham was until I was thirty, but I knew his greatest tune 'Anji' from childhood. Paul Simon plays a version of it on The Sounds Of Silence album.

YouTube is full of videos of amateur guitar players massacring Anji - it must be the Smoke On The Water of folk music. The best version I found is by Bert Jansch.