Category

MUSIC

Category

Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five released ‘The Message’ in 1982.

Loads of Lyrics.

Super-sexist imagery.

Sweary words.

A great melody.

And a couple of chap nearly actually singing.

‘Shouldn’t work really.

But it does.

Lyrics.

If you want to sing along.

Here we go.

LOTS of lyrics:

It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
Broken glass everywhere
People pissing on the stairs, you know they just don’t care
I can’t take the smell, can’t take the noise
Got no money to move out, I guess, I got no choice
Rats in the front room, roaches in the back
Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat
I tried to get away, but I couldn’t get far
Cause the man with the tow-truck repossessed my car
Don’t push me
Cause I’m close to the edge
I’m trying
Not to lose my head
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
Standing on the front stoop, hangin out the window
Watching all the cars go by, roaring as the breezes blow
A crazy lady, livin in a bag
Eating out of garbage piles, used to be a fag-hag
Said, she danced the tango, skipped the light fandango
Was circon princess, seemed to lost her senses
Down at the peepshow, watching all the creeps
So she can tell the stories to the girls back home
She went to the city and got Social Security
She had to get a pimp, she couldn’t make it on her own
Don’t push me
Cause I’m close to the edge
I’m trying
Not to lose my head
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
My brothers doin’ bad, stole my mothers t.v.
Says, she watches to much, is just not healthy
“All my children” in the daytime, “Dallas” at night
Can’t even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight
The bill collectors, they ring my phone
And scare my wife, when I’m not home
Got a bum education, double-digit inflation
Can’t take the train to the job, there’s a strike at the station
Neon king kong standin’ on my back
Can’t stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac
A midrange migraine, cancered membrane
Sometimes I think I’m going insane, I swear I might hijack a plane!
Don’t push me
Cause I’m close to the edge
I’m trying
Not to lose my head
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
My son said, daddy, I don’t wanna go to school
Cause the teacher’s a jerk, he must think, I’m a fool
And all the kids smoke reefer, I think it’d be cheaper
If I just got a job, learned to be a street sweeper
I dance to the beat, shuffle my feet
Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps
Cause it’s all about money, ain’t a damn thing funny
You got to have a con in this land of milk and honey
They pushed that girl in front of the train
Took her to the doctor, sewed the arm on again
Stabbed that man right in his heart
Gave him a transplant for a brand new start
I can’t walk through the park, cause it’s crazy after the dark
Keep my hand on the gun, cause they got me on the run
I feel like an outlaw, broke my last glass jar
Hear them say you want some more, livin on a seesaw
Don’t push me
Cause I’m close to the edge
I’m trying
Not to lose my head
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
A child is born, with no state of mind
Blind to the ways of mankind
God is smiling on you, but he’s frowning too
Cause only God knows, what you go through
You grow in the ghetto, living second rate
And your eyes will sing a song of deep hate
The place, that you play and where you stay
Looks like one great big alley way
You’ll admire all the number book takers
Thugs, pimps and pushers and the big money makers
Driving big cars, spending twenties and tens
And you wanna grow up to be just like them
Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers
Pickpockets, peddlers and even pan-handlers
You say I’m cool, I’m no fool
But then you wind up dropping out of high school
Now you’re unemployed, all null ‘n void
Walking ’round like you’re pretty boy floyd
Turned stickup kid, look what you done did
Got send up for a eight year bid
Now your manhood is took and you’re a may tag
Spend the next two years as an undercover fag
Being used and abused and served like hell
Till one day you was found hung dead in a cell
It was plain to see that your life was lost
You was cold and your body swung back and forth
But now your eyes sing the sad sad song
Of how you lived so fast and died so young
So, don’t push me
Cause I’m close to the edge
I’m trying
Not to lose my head
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under
It’s like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How I keep from going under

Here we go.

Marvellous: https://www.50odd.co.uk/flash/

 

In the early days of an embryonic Always Wear Red.

So around February 2015.

I watched this film a lot.

It is a docufilm called ‘Gimme Shelter’.

About The Rolling Stones.

And for some reason.

The Rolling Stones wear red scarves ever such a lot.

So I took a look.

Gimme Shelter.

‘Gimme Shelter’ was released in 1970.

The music is great.

And an enigmatic and brilliant Mick Jagger.

A man with a birthday on the same day as mine.

Takes centre stage.

(Yes. 

I know.

Mick and I have many similarities).

Disastrous. 

This  film is amazing.

Its focus is the disastrous Altamont Free Concert that took place on December 6th 1969.

They planned for an audience of 20,000 – 30,000.

And a third of a million people turned up.

The lead singer of Jefferson Airplane was punched unconscious mid-performance.

Hells Angels paced the stage as Mick Jagger sang.

The Grateful Dead refuse to take the stage at all.

And.

(And this was caught in the footage).

A man in the audience was shot dead.

Insight.

It is a film directed by Albert and David Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin.

And it an insight into another time.

In this amazing world of ours.

A brilliant 90 minutes.

https://www.50odd.co.uk/gimme-shelter/.

 

I came across this tweet this week.

Ralf Little (the chap that owns Always Wear Red with me) pointed it out.

60 seconds to make you feel good.

So please.

Have a listen: https://www.50odd.co.uk/dinosaurs/

 

He’s 14.

You’re feeling nervous, aren’t you, boy?
With your quiet voice and impeccable style
Don’t ever let them steal your joy
And your gentle ways, to keep ’em from running wild
They can kick dirt in your face
Dress you down, and tell you that your place
Is in the middle, when they hate the way you shine
I see you tugging on your shirt
Trying to hide inside of it and hide how much it hurts
Let ’em laugh while they can
Let ’em spin, let ’em scatter in the wind
I have been to the movies, I’ve seen how it ends
And the joke’s on them

Here we go: https://www.50odd.co.uk/benicio/. 

 

 

When I first heard Blackstar.

I just shook my head.

Then I saw the video to Lazarus.

And I shook my head again.

Death.

Lazarus is such a smart, neat piece of music.

A poem.

Set to – just – the coolest music.

Against the backdrop of such a beautifully weird and theatrical little film.

Look up here, I’m in heaven
I’ve got scars that can’t be seen
I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen
Everybody knows me now

Here: https://www.50odd.co.uk/blackstar/.

 

Here is Part 1: https://www.50odd.co.uk/the-lyrics-game-part-1/.

And here below is The Lyrics Game Part 2.

Don’t cheat.

10 lyrics this time.

From songs you’ve heard.

See how many you get.

Answers below.

(Scroll down.

But not until you’ve done your best, OK?

If you get 10 you’re pretty cool).

  1. Look at your children. See their faces in golden rays. Don’t kid yourself they belong to you. They’re the start of a coming race.
  2. We lived in the shadows and we had the chance and threw it away. And it’s never gonna be the same, ‘cause the years are falling by like the rain.
  3. What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know. Goes away in the end.
  4. 57 Mount Pleasant Street.
  5. Sleep, pretty darling. Do not cry. And I will sing a lullaby.
  6. Well it’s been building up inside of me for oh I don’t know how long. I don’t know why but I keep thinking something’s bound to go wrong.
  7. We’re no strangers to love. You know the rules and so do I.
  8. The gods may throw a dice. Their minds as cold as ice. And someone way down here. Loses someone dear.
  9. Shooting stars never stop. Even when they reach the top. Shooting stars never stop. Even when they reach the top. There goes a supernova. What a pushover-yeah. There goes a supernova. What a pushover.
  10. If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?

Answers below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  1. Oh! You Pretty Things. David Bowie.
  2. Hello. Oasis.
  3. Hurt. Johnny Cash/Nine Inch Nails.
  4. Weather With You. Crowded House.
  5. Golden Slumbers. The Beatles.
  6. Don’t Worry Baby. The Beach Boys.
  7. Never Gonna Give You Up. Rick Astley.
  8. The Winner Takes It All. ABBA.
  9. Welcome To The Pleasuredome. Frankie Goes To Hollywood.
  10. Free Bird. Lynyrd Skynyrd.

YES! A must listen: https://www.50odd.co.uk/the-lyrics-game-part-2/

One Christmas Day.

In my early 20s.

My ‘early grown up’ years, if you like.

I found myself sat around a strange table.

In a strange house.

With strange people.

Pushing turkey around a plate.

Floating.

A couple of half-mouthfuls into the meal.

I sensed myself floating.

Well, it felt like floating.

Because as the conversation ricocheted around me.

And across me.

I became aware that I hadn’t looked up from my plate for a good two minutes.

I became aware that I was pushing food around my plate.

I became aware that I felt alone.

Tears.

And it was part way through one of these plate-stares that I felt the stinging in my eyes.

And the warm tears rolling down my face.

Just a couple of them.

And I remember thinking:

I hope no one noticed that.

And I also remember thinking:

Actually.

I hope they did.

Alone.

My new girlfriend was sat to my right.

But I didn’t know her, of course.

She was new.

We were new.

And the beautiful, perfectly Christmassy room.

Packed with her uncles, aunts, mum and dad, sisters and brothers was all new too.

And I remember thinking.

That it’s funny how you can feel so alone.

When you’re not alone.

The Invitation.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

A new girlfriend inviting me to her place.

For Christmas Day.

Especially because the house I shared with my friends in Newcastle was empty over the Christmas period.

And especially as my mum’s house contained my drunk, bullying coward of a stepdad.

So when the invitation came.

I went.

Grown ups.

I want to go home.

I thought.

I didn’t say it out loud of course.

Grown ups can’t say things like that out loud.

Can they?

But then I thought to myself that.

No.

I didn’t actually want to go home.

What I actually wanted.

Was a home.

Home.

On Christmas Day in 2019.

I was sat in my home.

In an imperfectly Christmassy room.

With all the right people.

And my mind floated back 29 years.

To a 22 year old me.

A teary me.

A lonely me.

Sat in a perfectly Christmassy room.

With all the wrong people.

I thought about my journey.

From there.

To here.

I thought about the people I’d known that would make my homes over the years.

And I thought about the people I’d known that would break my homes over the years.

I tried to dilute the bitterness I can still taste so vividly.

With the pockets of happiness I remember so warmly.

During my teenage years.

And during every decade since.

And naturally.

I thought about The Smiths too.

Singing this: https://www.50odd.co.uk/home/.