Lifeline

In these new dystopian times I'm trying to stay positive; my overriding sense of humour is being, and will continue to be, tested to its absolute limits. And because the landscape is changing on an hourly basis, it's a struggle to keep to the path; and to stay sane.

Don't get me wrong, my personal situation is by comparison (judging by the decimation of my local high street and the number of desperate callers currently ringing James O'Brien on LBC - to use just two indicators) not as perilous as I know it is for some. But at this critical time in all our lives, we need decisive leadership and reassurance. And a modicum of hope. All of which are in short supply at the moment. 

We're all clinging on to whatever lifelines we can - family, friends, beer, music, whatever. Though, for some, even those touchstones may not be enough.

The corner shop at the top of my road has always been 'there for me'. And never more so than now. Recent footfall has increased considerably and, despite now being increasingly populated by Tesco refugees, it will, I'm sure, be vital to my physical and mental wellbeing as social distancing becomes the new normal. 

Cornershop: St Marie Under Canon - 2020

1970 (5/5)

The final song in this mini series hasn't just popped into my head, its been kipping in the attic ever since my son was born. Sweet Baby James is 50% cowboy song, 50% lullaby, 100% immaculate. There may well have been better songs written than this; but not many. Even its writer, James Taylor, said it's the song he's most proud of. I can't disagree with that.

James Taylor: Sweet Baby James (1970)

1970 (4/5)

Did he? Or didn't he? We can talk till the cows come home about how George Harrison accidentally or otherwise plagiarised He's so Fine by the Chiffons, but it won't change the outcome. In 1976 the judge - after years of legal wrangling - found Harrison guilty as charged. Beatle George never saw a dime from his multi-million selling chart topper - ironic as he was the first of the post-Fab Four to land a Number One single on both sides of the Atlantic.

So, whether I'm singing the George Harrison original (well, as original as a song with a nicked riff/motif can be), or the version George produced for his mate Billy Preston - before Harrison committed his to tape - My Sweet Lord is the 4h. selection of songs currently pin-balling round my skull 24/7.

Billy Preston: My Sweet Lord (1970)

John Lennon once famously said that whenever he heard My Sweet Lord he was convinced there was a God. Even as a non believer, I think I know where he was coming from.

George Harrison - My Sweet Lord (1970)

And, finally, the elephant in the room. It's hard to believe nobody (not even Phil Spector) told the ex-Beatle he was treading on very thin ice. But, hey, it made for a great rock and roll story.

The Chiffons - He's so Fine (1963)

1970 (3/5)

Only three songs in to my mini series and already I'm floundering with the concept of themed blogs; I've said before that lists, running themes etc. are an anathema to me. And do you wanna know why? I'll tell you why: the third song from 1970 that I've been singing like a madmancap isn't even from 1970. Yikes!

All this time I thought I was singing a Syd Barrett song from his 'A Madcap Laughs' album; turns out I was actually singing an Andy Ellison pastiche recorded some 35 years later. There never were such times.

So, to demonstrate what a chump I've been, here are the (offending) tunes in all their glory:

Exhibit A

Andy Ellison - Heather Lane (2005)

Exhibit B

Syd Barrett - Octopus (1970)

1970 (2/5)

The conceit for this mini series - songs from 1970 buzzing round my head - is, of course, deeply flawed: how can there only be five songs in there and why are all from 1970? Busted.

But, at the time of conception, you've gotta believe me that this clutch of songs were pretty much front and centre of what passes for my brain and, yes, I was, and still am, singing them at traffic lights. In the supermarket. In the shower. Don't tell me you've never been afflicted too.

This one is a funny one. Unlike the last ear worm which is from a band I kind of know inside out and back to front, Cat Stevens is an outsider to me; albeit an outsider who, for a handful of years in the late sixties and early seventies, wrote some real touchstone songs. Maybe I was too young, maybe I wasn't emotionally invested enough to buy into his brand, maybe he was just too gospel-y for me. But 'Wild World' pierced my armour. It got thru. And still hasn't left.

Cat Stevens - Wild World (1970)