Hey there Mister Blue

Mr. Blue. He invented glam, you know

A songwriter friend of mine came over the other Saturday afternoon with his guitar - we played, drank gallons of tea and swapped a few ideas. He produced a melody and some snatches of lyrics he was turning into a new song. He told me its premise was all the girls he'd ever gone out with were together in one room - and what they'd say.

"Are you mad?" I think I may have blurted out. But he wouldn't listen. "Finish that song mate and there's a whole world of pain coming your way, nothing's so sure."

However, it did get me thinking. What if all the people I'd ever done a mixtape for all congregated in the same room? "Fuck me," they'd say to one another, I thought he only put 'Car 67' on mine just to wind me up. And what was 'Sunscreen' all about? But I really liked that bluegrass version of 'White Wedding' he put on mine." A lot of the blokes may remember me putting this on their CD compilations: "I think I got yours" one of the chaps would say to the girl in the corner wondering what she was doing in a room full of strangers - all clutching a drink in one hand and a C90 cassette in the other.

"Oh! Oh! Who remembers that song by the crazy Bollywood guy? I still dance around the kitchen to that one!"

Mohammed Rafi - Jaan Pehechan Ho (1965)

Some of my 'Best Bits' would be playing thru the PA and a few in the room may get dewy eyed about Another Train. Others maybe jumping on the furniture when Block Buster! comes on. Not pretty.

But I wonder how long it would be before Barry Blue's 'Do You Wanna Dance' entered the conversation? "He used to tell me Barry Blue invented glam", one would say, and someone else would pipe up "And did he put it on at the start, just after Gene Hunt shouting "Don't move you're surrounded by armed bastards?"

"YES!"

Rumbled.

Barry Blue - Do You Wanna Dance (1973)

For Alyson - even though I've never done her a mixtape

I hate to see you cry

For reasons not entirely of my own making, the playlist in my car over recent weeks has comprised, seemingly, more than its fair share of tear jerkers: everything from Del Amitri's Driving With The Brakes On and Ben Kweller's Thirteen to Another Train by Pete Morton and I Can't Let Go Of Her Now by Justin Currie. All tunes that have featured in this blog at some time or other.

Something inside me stirs whenever I hear a minor chord and before I know it I'm reaching for the Kleenex. We had friends round recently who'd never heard Baz Lurhmann's life affirming Everyone's Free To Wear Sunscreen; when I pressed play I really had to bite my lip before doing a Mick Hucknall. It's unnerving how certain pieces of music can still creep up on me.

So, after today's offering from Alan Hull I should really try and make future selections more upbeat than down - more anthems and less dirges. But I can't promise. And, anyway, I love sad songs.

Alan Hull - I Hate To See You Cry

Thirteen

If Ben Kweller's Thirteen had been around when I was a youth this achingly beautiful song would have found its way on to every mix tape I ever did for a girl. Now, as a middle aged man, I find myself including it on compilation CDs and Spotify playlists for other middle aged men. No matter, that doesn't stop it from being an achingly beautiful song. If only I was still a flirt.