Coffee?

He won't thank me for reminding him, but Glenn Tilbrook, 50% shareholder of Squeeze Ltd., said goodbye to his fifties today. I'm sure if you trawl the back issues of this blog you'll find plenty of references to both him and his common law songwriting partner, Chris Difford. To say their partnership has been rocky would be an understatement, but, not for nothing, were they once compared to Lennon & McCartney. And rightly so.

I've seen Glenn live in so many different permutations I really have lost count. And in all those times - Glenn solo, Glenn with Squeeze (with and without Jools), Glenn with the Fluffers, Glenn with Chris - I've only ever seen him play Black Coffee in Bed on the guitar. But, here he is vamping a few chords on the old Joanna:

Glenn Tilbrook: Black Coffee in Bed

Glenn Tilbrook - 60 today. Happy Birthday Glenn!

Warm hands

My second* favourite picture of James & Janneke

James and Janni made a whistle stop visit this weekend; it's so much easier for them, now we don't live in the arse end of nowhere. As always, we crammed a lot into the 24 hours they spent with us. We even had a 'conference call' with James' pop - a kind of low budget two-way family favourites. And Gordon, to his eternal credit, was able to announce to the pair he was doing a spot of giving with warm hands. Grandparents, eh? They never cease to amaze.

* This being my favourite

Three Faced

It's called 'Doing a Swede' - named after the young man who thought it would be a hoot to have your photograph taken holding the first album you ever bought with your own money; whilst at the same time doing a rudimentary version of the Dance of the Seven Veils.

Anyway, as you can see, Mr. Swede lost his cherry to Marc Bolan, I took the Sweet behind the bike sheds and Alyson, well...it would appear Alyson let Mr. Presley into her boudoir after lights out. Allegedly.

If you still have your first 33 and you don't mind sharing a Polaroid of yourself in the kitchen clutching said artefact (looking only mildly silly), then now's the time to say 'There's no time like the present' and ping the image over to Medd Towers.

I'd particularly like to hear (and see) regular (and irregular) readers' debut platters. So Mondo &Piley, C, Martin, Mark, Skirky,  Rol and anyone else out there who can still locate that first piece of black plastic they bought in 19 Seventy/Eighty, come on down. 

75BC

Billy Connolly will be 75 in November. As part of his upcoming birthday celebrations, three acclaimed Scottish artists were commissioned to capture the Big Yin's likeness and present Billy with their unique portraits.

Jack Vettriano

BBC Scotland have made a beautiful and touching programme recording Billy's return to his native Glasgow where, through a series of his memories, archive footage and present day travelogue, Glasgow and Billy were shown very much in the here and now. Although both city and comedian have improved with age, Connolly now suffers with Parkinson's: his mind is still as sharp as a tack, but these days, during his (still impeccable) stand up shows, his once animated self is now similar to that of a 78 record playing at 33.

John Byrne

And the love the man generates, not just from the artists - John Byrne, Jack Vettriano and Rachel MacLean - but his audiences and the Glaswegians on the streets, is nothing short of discipleship. This sort of adoration is usually only afforded to the recently deceased.

Rachel MacLean

Finally, after Billy was given his works of art, there was still one more birthday surprise in store.

Unbeknownst to BC each of the portraits had been blown up to 50 feet high and granted mural status in three locations in the city.

Watch the programme yourself to see the great man's reaction - it's up on the iPlayer until 4 September. You'll be glad you did, believe me.

Gallowgate, near Barrowland Park

Old Wynd, off Osborne Street

Dixon Street, near St. Enoch Square

Shelbyville

Shelby, Shelby & Shelby

For all its faults, and it has many, believe me (dodgy Birmingham accents, PJ Harvey all over the soundtrack, ropey dialogue), Peaky Blinders is actually getting under my skin - imagine Deadwood set in the West Midlands. I never thought I'd get past Season 1 Episode 1, but now, thanks to those good people at Netflix, I'm at the point of no return: S2:E4. If they hadn't have decamped to Camden Town and brought Tom Hardy in I think I would have kicked it into the long grass long ago. 

But Christ, how hard can it be to do a Brummie accent? Nearly all the cast must think Birmingham is on the Wirral. Then again, Timothy Spall did set the bar quite high in Auf Wiedersehen Pet. And Vic and Bob.

Anyway, it skips along at quite a pace and if you don't mind a script liberally carpet-bombed with 'f*cks' then give it a go. Nick Cave sings the theme tune.

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Red Right Hand