As the result of a large study.
Conducted by the University of Missouri.
The happiest song on earth was found.
Neuroscience.
2000 Brits were quizzed about their favourite tracks.
And neuroscientist Jacob Jolij devised a happiness formula by analysing 126 songs over a 50 year period.
So if you’re interested.
And fancy a smile.
Here it is: https://www.50odd.co.uk/happy-song/.
A smooth tune.
For your Sunday morning coffee.
And a strut around the kitchen.
Happy days.
Probably one of the best things I’ve ever seen and heard in my 50 years.
Is Stevie Wonder.
On Sesame Street.
Here: https://www.50odd.co.uk/street-music/.
Read this here please: https://www.50odd.co.uk/rush/.
When we were both 15.
My friend, John was a big Rush fan.
I listened.
But I never bought any Rush.
John did.
John probably bought everything Rush ever did.
Neil Peart.
Neil Peart was Rush’s drummer.
He died in January this year.
I play the drums.
Not as well as Neil did, though.
Spirit of Radio.
Here’s Spirit of Radio live.
It actually starts at 6.33.
So jump there if you like.
Then scroll down to hear Spirit of Radio – just the drum track.
Marvellous.
Drums only:
Here’s David Byrne, Mauro Refosco and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus.
Performing David Byrne and Brian Eno’s ‘One Fine Day’ at National Sawdust’s 2019 Spring Gala.
It’s nice.
Heartwarming.
Topical.
Raw and interesting too, I think.
Like much of what David Byrne does.
Here are the words.
Saw the wanderin’ eye, inside my heart
Shouts and battle cries, from every part
I can see those tears, every one is true
When the door appears, I’ll go right through, oh
I stand in liquid light, like everyoneI built my life with rhymes, to carry on
And it gives me hope, to see you there
The things I used to know, that one fineOne fine day
In a small dark room, where I will wait
Face to face I find, I contemplate
Even though a man is made of clay
Everything can change that one fine —One fine day
Then before my eyes, is standing still
I beheld it there, a city on a hill
I complete my tasks, one by one
I remove my masks, when I am doneThen a peace of mind fell over me —
In these troubled times, I still can see
We can use the stars, to guide the way
It is not that far, the one fine —One fine day
Here’s the tune:
https://www.50odd.co.uk/sawdust/.
I paused recently.
To pick out the coolest song I know.
From forever.
And I came up with this one.
Coolest.
It’s a song about a subject matter that most people can’t relate to.
A song that is written and then sung by a guy that.
Well.
He’s not the best singer.
A song that.
In places.
Has awful phrasing.
That packs in far too may words in some lines.
Far too few in others.
And that chooses to rhyme one word with exactly the same word in the very next line.
So it’s not really rhyming at all.
It is a song that has a (predominantly) two note bass line.
And he even fills in with a whole load of ‘doot-de-doots’ when he feels like it.
Or when he can’t be arsed penning new words.
‘Still think it’s the coolest song I know.
From the very.
First.
Note.
https://www.50odd.co.uk/coolest/.
I’d heard the bigger boys talk about going there.
And some of my friends.
My friends that were my age.
They’d talk about going there too.
And I somehow knew that the bigger boys probably had been.
And that my friends.
My friends that were my age.
Probably had not.
Records.
There was one record shop in Derby.
In 1983.
Called ‘Way Ahead’.
I was 15 years old at the time.
And I’d never been.
Imagination.
I’d imagined going, though.
It was dark inside Way Ahead.
With music playing much louder than I was allowed to play music at home.
And it played constantly.
There was one, long haired man behind the counter at Way Ahead, I imagined.
Chewing gum.
(At work.
Chewing gum.
Wow!)
And I’d also imagine the panic I’d feel the first time that I did actually walk in.
I imagined the long haired man behind the counter.
Staring at me.
Through lazy, half-open eyes.
Not saying a word.
As he could see my discomfort.
My sweaty brow.
Because he knew that I didn’t know the rules of Way Ahead.
The only record shop in Derby.
And that he did.
The Way Ahead Record Shop Rules.
You see.
If I walked in the wrong way.
I imagined.
I could end up stood by a Buck’s Fizz record.
Or that fucking Joe Dolce song called.
(Embarrassingly).
‘Shaddap Yo Face’.
But then.
(I told myself).
Way Ahead.
The only record shop in Derby.
Wouldn’t stock shit like that.
Would it?
It’d be all ‘Iron Maiden’.
‘Blue Oyster Cult’.
And ‘Saxon’.
I knew this because my friend Dave Sirrell actually did get all his records from Way Ahead.
I’d seen them.
In his massive bedroom.
In his massive house.
That his rich dad bought.
Because Dave Sirrell’s dad was a gynaecologist.
And even though I didn’t know exactly what a gynaecologist was or did when I was 15 years old.
I knew they made a shitload of money.
Fuck; Dave Sirrell even had a microwave oven!
They were minted.
Way Ahead.
I did eventually get to Way Ahead.
And it was pretty much as I imagined.
Dark.
Loud.
A winding maze of categorised records.
Sat in batches of 100.
Facing me.
Back to back.
In scruffy, sturdy, wooden, stomach-high boxes.
So that when it was my turn to look.
I could stand square-on in front of them.
Legs slightly apart so the I was steady.
And I could plip, plip, plip them.
One at a time.
Forwards.
To reveal what sat behind each one.
Navigation.
I remember how I first chose to navigate Way Ahead Records.
The only record shop in Derby.
I navigated to sections not because of the records that were filed there.
But because the people that browsed there.
No one looking as cool as that.
I’d think to myself.
Would be looking for a fucking Joe Dolce record.
Teenage Me.
And there it is.
‘Teenage me’ in a nutshell.
Seeking out the cool kids.
Following the cool kids around.
Wishing I was them.
Or at the very least, that I could be with them.
I’m pretty much the same these days actually.
Maybe I’ll get there.
Maybe I can be one of the cool kids too.
Maybe one day.
I am not sure what to say about this.
Other than, here’s Alan Partridge.
Playing the bass guitar.
In a caravan.
To Daft Punk’s ‘Get Lucky’.
For an hour.
Here we go: https://www.50odd.co.uk/partridge/.
Well I hope you’re OK there in your bubble.
Tucked away.
Probably with a whole new different kind of busyness.
And probably.
Just probably.
With the occasional pocket of time that allow your mind to drift off.
Back in time.
To a time you remember fondly.
And maybe to a person that you remember fondly, too.
Watch this.
Let’s see.
Watch this.
Alone.
And see what happens.
Especially when you hear these words.
Is it too late to remind you how we were?
Here: https://www.50odd.co.uk/too-late/.