1. Astor Piazzola – Adios Nonino
Astor Piazzola is considered the most important tango composer of the twentieth century. He caused great upset amongst Argentina’s followers of traditional tango by updating the form in what some thought as a disrespectful fashion. He incorporated elements of jazz and classical music into his “neuvo tango.” He was physically attacked for doing so, because as they used to say in Argentina, everything can change but not the tango! One tango singer burst into the studio of a radio station where he was giving an interview and held a pistol to his head.
He wrote this composition on the death of his father. It is worth listening to closely. After just under two minutes of a dissonant piano introduction we are suddenly presented with an unforgettable theme. This is then replaced by some lively string and bandoleon (a type of accordion) playing, only for the violin to resurface with the theme once again with even more emotion. The quicker, urgent stuff returns, with sliding string notes and a little percussion. Then the bandoleon reprises the sad theme. The piece ends with the ensemble half joyously taking us to a quiet conclusion.
2. The Animals – We’ve Gotta Get Out Of This Place
How compelling is that bass line! The Animals were a Toon band and as you can hear they badly wanted to leave the place. This track was recorded over 40 years ago and is certainly not a romantic love song!. The singer is the legendary Eric Burdon, a tough little brick-shithouse of a man, who now lives in California, so he at least achieved his ambition. One of the earliest British teen-angst songs.
3. Ray Charles – Hit the Road Jack
Listen to that rhythm and Ray’s trademark voice. His backing singers were called The Raeletes, and it is said that the only way you could get in the group was if you let Ray. The duetting singer on this track had Ray’s child – in all he had eight by six different women. Probably explains the title of the song?
4. The Hollies -Bus Stop
Brilliant opening riff starts us on the way to just under three minutes of pop perfection. The Manchester lads are now oldies, and this was a hit in 1966 just before the England World Cup victory, so has always been a favourite of mine. The jangling guitar almost sounds like rain and the lyrics are at times laughable - “Bus stops, bus goes, she stays, love grows…” – simple really.
5. The Everly Brothers – Crying in the Rain
Kentucky brothers Don and Phil Everly were the ultimate vocal partnership in the 1950’s. They had many hits when I was a kid, and were firmly lodged in my head, never to be removed, I hope. Like all partnerships they had bad times. Disagreements through the late 60s and early 70s climaxed in 1973, during a concert in Los Angeles. The manager came on the stage, stopped the show and told the audience that he was upset with Don's sloppy performance. Phil smashed his guitar and stormed off, and Don announced that The Everly Brothers had split. Ten years later the brothers made peace with each other and reunited as a singing duo at the Royal Albert Hall in London. Get the version of this classic from that show and you will not be disappointed.
Wednesday 25 November 2009
Tuesday 17 November 2009
"Who Threw That Leg of Liver?"
We were talking the other day about our Bermondsey parents using words in an amusing way. My father-in-law, Eddie Barrow, ran the bar at Guy’s Hospital, and had many comical phrases. My wife Lesley reminded me of some that are safe enough to tell.
Eddie’s view of a rude person was to “never expect more than a grunt from a pig.” When money was short he was “on the parish.” When he was flush he was happy to buy a few “sherbets.” Watching cricket on TV, a vicious bouncer smashed fearfully into the body of Surrey’s John Edrich. “That’ll stop him farting in church” said Eddie. His knowing explanation for a gross criminal act was that the perpetrator “probably had his shoe laces tied together too tight when he was young.” Towards the end of his life, when his illness advanced, Eddie spoke of going to “the underground sports in a wooden overcoat. Two clean shirts will see me out.”
The women had their own way with words. Lesley and sister Kaye’s mum, Winnie, on hearing about the future marriage of a girl asked, “What does she want to get herself iked up with him for?” To anybody hoping to get one over her, “Don’t come the old acid with me!” Muck about and you could “get the back of my hand.” On her daughters’ chatting: “If your shoes were made out of your tongue they would never wear out.”
Any slight to the family from an outsider and Kit Kingwell would “spit in his eye, the liberty taker.” Tantrums were met with, “Don’t get yourself all aereated!” If I was miserable and letting it show, I had “a face like a smacked bum.” Studying for A levels was fine, but dangerous because it involved “too much headwork.” Kit, like Winnie, had a philosophical take on marriage – “She might as well get a gun and shoot herself.”
My own dad, known as Danny, sometimes as Jimmy, but real name Arthur, is another phrase-maker. He worked for over fifty years in Smithfield Meat Market. Drop something on the floor today and he will ask the unanswerable question, “Who threw that leg of liver?” This possibly originated after a market porter dropped a heavy load and received a little verbal irony from his mates.
Money? As a kid in the sixties I was bemused by my dad. Home from Smithfield he described how a customer had “bunged him a tosheroon,” Sometimes it was “a dollar”, “half-a-nicker”, or a “nicker.” His tips rose with inflation, and by retirement he could be given a “flim,” or a “tenner,” and even a “score” for his troubles.
Markets bring people in unwanted touch with “The Law.”. I frequently heard from dad how so-and-so had been “at it,” and caught “bang to rights.” They might get a reprieve by offering the officer a “drop” or “a bit of dinner”, but mostly they ended up “nicked” and soon got their “cards” from the employer. Communicating with the police was tricky – best “keep your trap shut.” Too much talk and you were known as “old mouth and trousers.”
Eddie’s view of a rude person was to “never expect more than a grunt from a pig.” When money was short he was “on the parish.” When he was flush he was happy to buy a few “sherbets.” Watching cricket on TV, a vicious bouncer smashed fearfully into the body of Surrey’s John Edrich. “That’ll stop him farting in church” said Eddie. His knowing explanation for a gross criminal act was that the perpetrator “probably had his shoe laces tied together too tight when he was young.” Towards the end of his life, when his illness advanced, Eddie spoke of going to “the underground sports in a wooden overcoat. Two clean shirts will see me out.”
The women had their own way with words. Lesley and sister Kaye’s mum, Winnie, on hearing about the future marriage of a girl asked, “What does she want to get herself iked up with him for?” To anybody hoping to get one over her, “Don’t come the old acid with me!” Muck about and you could “get the back of my hand.” On her daughters’ chatting: “If your shoes were made out of your tongue they would never wear out.”
Any slight to the family from an outsider and Kit Kingwell would “spit in his eye, the liberty taker.” Tantrums were met with, “Don’t get yourself all aereated!” If I was miserable and letting it show, I had “a face like a smacked bum.” Studying for A levels was fine, but dangerous because it involved “too much headwork.” Kit, like Winnie, had a philosophical take on marriage – “She might as well get a gun and shoot herself.”
My own dad, known as Danny, sometimes as Jimmy, but real name Arthur, is another phrase-maker. He worked for over fifty years in Smithfield Meat Market. Drop something on the floor today and he will ask the unanswerable question, “Who threw that leg of liver?” This possibly originated after a market porter dropped a heavy load and received a little verbal irony from his mates.
Money? As a kid in the sixties I was bemused by my dad. Home from Smithfield he described how a customer had “bunged him a tosheroon,” Sometimes it was “a dollar”, “half-a-nicker”, or a “nicker.” His tips rose with inflation, and by retirement he could be given a “flim,” or a “tenner,” and even a “score” for his troubles.
Markets bring people in unwanted touch with “The Law.”. I frequently heard from dad how so-and-so had been “at it,” and caught “bang to rights.” They might get a reprieve by offering the officer a “drop” or “a bit of dinner”, but mostly they ended up “nicked” and soon got their “cards” from the employer. Communicating with the police was tricky – best “keep your trap shut.” Too much talk and you were known as “old mouth and trousers.”
Saturday 14 November 2009
Short People Pills and Footballers of the Year
Reading Charles Buchan's News Chronicle Football Annual 1935/6 (price 3d) the other day and I came across a remarkable advert.
"Short people can be made taller with a box of Challoner's Famous Formula HTN tablets" it claimed.
By way of testimony, E.H. of Sutton is quoted, presumably with unintended irony: "Results beyond expectation and I am as pleased as Punch." Presumably Mr. Punch, the well-known, diminutive puppet and spouse of Judy?
For those who may be interested the Chronicle's Four Players of 1934-5 were Derby and England centre-half J. Barker ("combines a determined defence with an aggressive attacking policy, his accurate swinging passes to the wings being a great feature"); R. Westwood, inside left of Bolton Wanderers known for his "thrustful dribbling and clever passing"; D. Duncan, Derby County and Scotland's outside left, with the "uncanny knack of taking the ball in his stride and beating his opponent"; and George Male of The Arsenal and England, "of the rugged type, he tackles strongly and kicks a judicious length."
"Short people can be made taller with a box of Challoner's Famous Formula HTN tablets" it claimed.
By way of testimony, E.H. of Sutton is quoted, presumably with unintended irony: "Results beyond expectation and I am as pleased as Punch." Presumably Mr. Punch, the well-known, diminutive puppet and spouse of Judy?
For those who may be interested the Chronicle's Four Players of 1934-5 were Derby and England centre-half J. Barker ("combines a determined defence with an aggressive attacking policy, his accurate swinging passes to the wings being a great feature"); R. Westwood, inside left of Bolton Wanderers known for his "thrustful dribbling and clever passing"; D. Duncan, Derby County and Scotland's outside left, with the "uncanny knack of taking the ball in his stride and beating his opponent"; and George Male of The Arsenal and England, "of the rugged type, he tackles strongly and kicks a judicious length."
Southwark Park - "Our Park" Project
As a member of The Friends of Southwark Park, earlier this year I made an application on their behalf to the Heritage Lottery Fund, and recently we received the good news that a grant has been awarded. The idea is to run a reminiscence project culminating in a book, “Our Park”, which will be published next summer. During 2009/10 individuals, community groups and schools will be encouraged to pass on their memories, through interviews and writing. Southwark Council has also agreed to support the Friends by funding a historical themed floral display and also by developing the Southwark Park heritage link on its website. A celebration day, involving an exhibition and music on the bandstand, will be organised in conjunction with Bermondsey Beat. A series of free guided walks and talks will also take place.
I am coordinating the project on a voluntary basis. The Heritage Lottery Fund has been a good friend of the park over the years, so once again our thanks go to them for backing us. Now we would like to hear from people, of all ages, who are willing to either be interviewed or to write something for us. We are happy to consider all stories, opinions and reminiscences for inclusion in the book.
If you are interested in getting involved in the “Our Park” reminiscence project please contact me via this blog or on ourpark@live.co.uk
Friday 6 November 2009
John Clare's "The Badger"
For me a good poem means a fine day, and if you have not read it, please believe, "The Badger" is memorable. A short, vivid description of a badger baiting, and the courage shown by the animal.
"When badgers fight then everyone's a foe.
The dogs are clapt, and urged to join the fray;
The badger turns and drives them all away.
Though scarcely half as big, demure and small
He fights with dogs for bones and beats them all."
I was not at all familiar with Clare's work, but aware that I should be, as he is so widely renowned. I recently found a paperback collection of his poems in a charity shop. It is the one edited by Dr. Costas Xenophontos, founder and Director of Plato's International Philosophical Association (what is that?) and published in 1966. Minimally designed, and red and cream in colour, for some reason it jumped at me from the shelves. I am glad it did, for that poem alone, but there are many others which please.
"When badgers fight then everyone's a foe.
The dogs are clapt, and urged to join the fray;
The badger turns and drives them all away.
Though scarcely half as big, demure and small
He fights with dogs for bones and beats them all."
I was not at all familiar with Clare's work, but aware that I should be, as he is so widely renowned. I recently found a paperback collection of his poems in a charity shop. It is the one edited by Dr. Costas Xenophontos, founder and Director of Plato's International Philosophical Association (what is that?) and published in 1966. Minimally designed, and red and cream in colour, for some reason it jumped at me from the shelves. I am glad it did, for that poem alone, but there are many others which please.
Southwark Park
One of my interests is Southwark Park, located in Bermondsey, London. As time goes on I am going to use this blog to tell the story of one of London's oldest, but almost certainly one of its least heralded parks. For years I have been accumulating details of how the park developed. I harbour a hope that one day I might write the history this important place deserves, but I sometimes wonder if I will. I have so much material to sort through, but as Ernest Hemingway said, the clock runs faster than the pen.
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