Heart on my sleeve

My love of the green and white RCA single paper sleeve is well documented in this blog. That I would love to wallpaper the house (or certain rooms, anyway) in the RCA livery is no secret.

You can even buy replicas of them these days (above); though I must have enough original Sweet and Bowie 45s alone to do at least a couple of walls.

My friend Tony did some lovely miniature canvases of classic RCA sleeves for me recently. But, as you can see, I had to have a go myself.

Old & Grey

Old & Grey (2015)

I used to be a star-kicker. Though these days just getting out of my armchair finds me making that sound your grandparents used to make when bending down. I can't even use Townshend's adage 'I look pretty young but I'm just backdated.' I'm just backdated.

My fellow blogger, The Swede, is spending the next 55 days counting down to his 55th birthday. I just hope he remembers when he gets there what he came for. TS predates me by only a handful of months, so it'll be interesting to see the overlaps between his timeline and mine. Our shared love of music (my main reason for embarking on this blog five years ago) being the obvious one. Come my next birthday, apart from being older and greyer, I would like to think that my sherpa, in the guise of The Swede, will be there to to meet me at the summit with a glass of something warming and tell me that 55 is not as bad as it sounds.

That's easy for you to say

It will come as no surprise to you that I speak neither fluent Chinese or Russian. Notwithstanding these two obvious handicaps, I've knocked up a couple of Beatles related pictures that, I pray, won't offend any visitors hailing from these easterly sectors*. I really hope I've nailed it and that I'm not calling my best friend's mother a whore or any other such translational f*ck-up. I was originally going for All You Need is Love, but it was way too many characters for the size of canvas. So, here are 我爱她 and И я люблю ее. I think.



* Amazing as it may seem, Russians account for 10% of my regular readership

Turning left

'You're going the wrong way'

When getting to the top of the flight stairs and boarding a plane, I've never turned left. I've never been bing-bonged whilst waiting at the gate and been told that it's my lucky day. Never had the reclining chair that folds flat into a bed or been served courtesy Moët at 10,000 feet by a glamorous flight assistant. No, I've always been herded right with the rest of cattle class in search of my lousy billet; to the scuzzy plastic seat with zero legroom and all the associated charms associated with economy air travel.


Oh to be on the other side of the curtain. Just once. Do they still have real fireplaces through there?

Two worlds collide

'Polydor' acrylic on canvas 7" x 5"

At the arse end of 1972 I managed to scrape enough pennies together to buy my first ever single. I'd heard it on Top of the Pops the week before and I just knew I had to own a copy. It was Gudby t'Jane by Slade and, as I was to find out when approaching the counter of the Music Inn, it was on the Polydor label. Around that time you'd see many other Polydor releases in either the singles or album charts: Hendrix, Focus, The Hollies, The New Seekers and Rory Gallagher to name but a few. But it was a much bigger hitter than any of the above who bankrolled the label. Thanks to my parents and people like my parents, whenever they had the neighbours round for a shindig, it wasn't just impregnable tins of Watneys Party Seven that made parties go with a bang. Oh no, it was a bearded white suited bandleader from Deutschland. That's right, James bloody Last.

Even now, whenever I see the red and black label I always think of Slade. Ask my dad and he'll no doubt tell you the King of Elevator Music.

.......

This blog is five years old today. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to stop off and shoot the breeze with me. I do appreciate it.