A VERY MERRY DRUNKEN VINYL CHRISTMAS! Singles Special!

DRUNKEN VINYLS

GOSH…

IT’S THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!

‘And Incidentally, A Merry Christmas to All You At Home, Again!’

Tonight’s Sponsors: Lamb’s Navy Rum - for that smooth taste and a spirit of adventure mixed with just a hint of Caroline Monroe’s Delightful Curves and the hangover that sleep just WON’T shake! Oh, yes!

THE NOT QUITE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF DRUNKEN VINYLS

  

1. Thou shalt play one side of the forty five in its entirety
2. Thou shalt drink one can of Fosters or its alcohol equivalent per song
3. Thou shalt record ramblings as they occur to thee for the duration of the running time
4. Thou shalt edit out the swearing the next day
5. Thou shalt not suffer a Blueberry user to live

Christmas time is here again, Christmas time is here again, Christmas time is here again… hurray, the rate of inflation has dropped slightly, mainly because the shops are full of tat to buy like West Ham United wellingtons, thin and crappy gift-wrap that tears upon contact and them mats you put round toilets gaily and tastefully decorated with holly leaves to disguise the splash back. Be not afeard for we bring you glad tidings of great joy, shoppers, at this most Holy time – your Mars selection box is reduced in price! But enough of us and let the party commence!

(You have to sing along to our theme tune at this point.)

 Your Hosts Tonight!!

Yes, folks,  they’ve taken the night off and had a rest from hitting motorways with hammers, just to be here: - it’s your favourite Kraut Rockers and ours: Ralph and Florian!

Madness: One Step Beyond (1980)

A very good record to start the Christmas party with. We notice the plonking walking bass and the spoken intro is second to none. It’s an instrumental with a grintastic saxophone and you just can’t get the distinctive top and bottom on download – it has to be vinyl. Play this and your dance floor fills up with ugly blokes doing a strange sort of dancing where feet don’t touch the floor, almost bouncing into each other in a mock threatening style, but when it becomes almost aggressive, don’t fade across in panic, most of them will have heart attacks and be rushed to casualty. Wear your fez, though!

Madness Factoid: There were seven members in the band and with all that uncontrolled Madness, there was enough nuttiness for a whole jar of popular French toast spread, Nutella! Which is where their nickname ‘The Nutty Boys’ came from, of course.

The Beat: Best Friend / Stand Down Margaret (1981)

Want to push it on? Well the rhythm guitar and bass on this little number will keep them dancing. Unless you find yourself in a pub where they have an Irish band with a fiddler three and one of them tambourine things with a stick. They say that Irish bands have the craic, but personally we like it when they bash two large pebbles together. Loudly. Against each other’s heads. And Irish bands will always bring the bores out, real ale fanatics, river dance aficionados and just plain knobs. We know this.

The Beat Factoid: They were part of the two tone musical movement but ironically, this record pointed to the unhappy fact that nobody in the band actually had any friends at all let alone best ones. They tried to make it with Margaret, but she was having none of it. They split up after a desultory and depressing two year stint of being ‘Billy No Mates’.

Fratellis: Chelsea Dagger

Now – if you want to get a bit of man dancing going at your Christmas party, play this one. It starts with the drum and then the bass: it is – of course – The Kinks, as so much of British pop is – discerning lovers of music will always trace pop back to any one of the following: The Beatles, The Kinks or The Who – why?  How the hell do we know? We’re drunk and at the party, man!

Fratellis Factoid: The band were sacked by Chelsea legend Jose Morinho for inciting a riot at Stamford Bride: when playing this instead of Harry J Allstars ‘The Liquidator’ unhappy fans complained that there was no point during ‘Dagger’ that they could mindlessly clap and shout ‘Chelsea’. The dagger in the title was also missing, presumed completely made up.

Happy Mondays: Kinky Afro

Needs no introduction from us – we’re still back in the sixties even though it’s the nineties – and then some. We believe in the power of vinyl to make you groove just like a baggy. Dance floor empty? Play this mother. It’s mine you might as well have it, after all.

Happy Mondays Factoid: The Mondays were anything but happy when Ray Davies of ‘The Kinks’ sued the band for two million pounds in 1992 for appropriating part of his band’s name into the title of this classic. They were happier when they were able to get their own back some years later by suing Takashi Okazaki creator of AFRO SAMURAI, a manga series of popular graphic novels for a similar reason.

Electronic: Disappointed

Electronic, our arses, this is the Pet Shop Boys – and why not? Well, they were pretty damn good before X Files, Strictly Come Twonking and Pop Idol, you know? We wonder – did this get to number one? It certainly segues very well from The Mondays, good synths – it’s time for Britain to reclaim the charts from Simon Cowell. Wake up from your sleeping, oh England. Awaken, we command it!

Electronic Factoid: Lead singer, Neil Tenant was never actually a tenant but has always owed his own property. Or ‘pad’ as he likes to call it. He told us: ‘I have always been pleased to own my own ‘pad’ ’ (not to be confused with a booklet consisting of blank sheets of A4 paper).

 Level 42: The Chinese Way

Slap that bass, Mark. In a change of pace and we dictate the pace of this party, boppers, we ask Mark King to slap his bass as only he knows how to slap it: – a song of mystical mistiness – after all, who knows what the Chinese actually do know? More than us, certainly, if their booming economy is anything to go by compared to bankrupt Britain. Oh, topical! Great rhymes, too ‘Cantonese’ with ‘Mucky Knees’ – at least we think that’s what it was.

Level 42: Factoid: There are in fact only 41 levels in China – however in Basildon there are at least 43 or more – however the band were unhappy with the title ‘The Basildon Way’ and so shoehorned some Chinese into the song – hence references to ‘paper lanterns’ and ‘eyes wide open’.

Loose Ends: Hanging on a String

This is some funky shit with the smoothest and most sultry vocal you will ever here. And then some bloke comes in and spoils it all. No we jest – this is silky, sexy, fantastic grinding bass and percussion – the synthesiser used well for an eighties production and there is space, echo and reverberation – a brilliant production.

Loose Ends Factoid: Jane Eugene, the temptress of a vocalist, was unashamed by her magnificent voice and other attributes and when asked to pose in a swimming pool naked for a single cover, she dived straight in unabashed. The other two members of Loose Ends are less well known in this respect and as a consequence are of little interest. When the group disbanded these two, ironically, found themselves at a loose end.

Scritti Politti: Absolute

This is some blue eyed funky reggae grintastic great grooving going on here. Green’s vocals are on the falsetto side and the most noticeable aspect are the Tom Toms growling away underneath. Unfortunately the stylus is clogged up with crap, so we have to bring the party grinding to a halt – get deck 2 standing by. Are we sorry? Absolutely.

Scritti Politti Factoid:The band’s name is almost impossible to spell – and even if you learn it, you will still forget it. One of the early singles was called ‘Wood Beez’ which caused even more confusion – was the song a reference to bees that survived by hibernating in wood in the winter – or – something to do with wishful thinking? The group were handed a banning order by a confused public in 1987.

The Talking Heads: Once in a Lifetime

This classic dance track consists of David Byrne asking questions in a strangulated tone of voice above a backing of synthesised instrumentation – the most prominent being the bass which rises and falls precisely like clockwork. Towards the conclusion a crashing, grinding axe brings the track to its conclusion – many of us danced.

Talking Heads Factoid

The ‘Heads’ were once arrested by British Naval Intelligence: Rear Admiral Logjammer, who was manning the Americas desk at that time, came into the possession of some intelligence that informed that the band were making pornographic references to toilets and corrupting innocent naval ratings. The confusion arose because ‘heads’ are the name for toilets on ships. Logjammer was quietly retired and has allegedly held a grudge ever since as well as an aversion to toilets in general.

Drunken Vinyls Presents: Your Daily Orders.

Modern Life Exposed by Naval Intelligence.

As promulgated by the very shouty but honourable Rear Admiral Logjammer (R.N. Retired) in a very shouty voice!

The Smiths: Panic

We wonder to ourselves, too. The Smiths have an odd time signature in many of their tunes which make them difficult to dance to, also many feel Morrissey is synonymous with Misery. Not us, though, we love the lyrics: ‘Hang the Dj, Hang the Dj, Hang the DJ’. And then? It’s over.

The Smiths Factoid

Johnny Marr was once voted fourth best guitarist in the world and who are we to argue with that. His work on Kirsty MacColl’s records is peerless and adds an extra layer to ‘Kite’. Conversely, nobody ever remembers the other two – wonder what they’re doing now?

King: Won’t You Hold My Hand Now?

These are heavy times, don’t kiss and tell. It’s air guitar time, guys and gals. For the eighties, this is pretty gosh darn heavy as befits the lyrics because – these are heavy times!!

King Factoid: The band got their name from the lead singer Paul King and not, as some assume, from the town of Coventry where the band hailed from. If they had they would most probably have been called ‘Coventry’.

Limahl: Never Ending Story

Pure pop from Georgio Moroder – with the purest vocals and backing you will hear in the disco tonight – a true genius, we believe, a man who dominated the disco landscape of the late seventies and eighties. As a DJ we can go anywhere from here.

Limahl Factoid: He split from Kajagoogoo to carve out a solo career. Both he and the band sank without a trace shortly afterwards. It was a blessed relief.

Voyage: From East to West

So we choose to go disco, back to the seventies, a perfect segue. The artwork isn’t so good, but the music is eminently danceable as this largely instrumental track, played on real instruments, demonstrates – it’s the lead track from a concept dance LP – one of us owns it – where you, quite literally, dance from east to west. Ain’t that the truth, sister?

Voyage Factoid: There was once a Doctor Who story called ‘Voyage of the Damned’. It starred Kylie Minogue as a belligerent alien fighting waitress from Banoffepie and could have been inspired by this record. But neither of us could be bothered to check out whether that was true. So we didn’t.

Abba: Angel Eyes / Voulez Vous

Some prefer Dancing Queen, but they are most probably queens themselves, if pressed we will always choose this double A Side – kept off the top spot by the fact that Roxy Music also had a single called Angel Eyes out at the same time – and the British record buying public found it confusing, well of course they did, the poor sods. As it goes, this is a heart rending record about men being cruel to women and sung in close harmony by Agnetha and Frida – the stand out moment is the soaring chorus and it’s minor descent, a sort of baroque classicism too – no false overstressed melismas here, pure emotion and expert musicianship. It can only be a matter of time before some crap R and B singer discovers this one. As for Voulez Vous, that was totally ruined by those nitwits Erasure. Yes. We mean you, in your leather trousers, Jimmy Somerville.

Abba Factoid: Gentlemen prefer blondes, they say, but who would you choose to go for a date with from Abba? This was the problem that lesser known artist Paul Nicholas was faced with when he appeared on ‘Top of the Pops’ in 1976 singing his smash novelty number ‘Dancing with the Captain’ at the same time as Abba were appearing in a promotional video at number one accompanied by hoofers ‘Ruby Flipper’. ‘Diddy’ David Hamilton pointed at the screen and asked him there and then! Paul, confused, looked hard, blinked and said – ‘But Bjorn and Benny are BOTH blonde!’

 The Real Thing: Can You Feel the Force

A bonafide disco classic, with pulsating bass, tom toms and grintastic brass. Clearly inspired by the Star Wars obsession that summer. We was all feeling the force, my dears. You had to be there. One interesting and porntastic thing about the record was the sleeve design – the better the format – the more naked the girl. Not that we at DeeVees condone nakedness of beautiful ladies in any way at all, of course.

Real Thing Factoid: The tagline of popular fizzy drink ‘Coca Cola’ used to be ‘It’s the Real Thing’ which was way cool – especially if you’d got some from the fridge. Then it was banned because some really heavy people argued that it was full of preservatives and thus not real at all. They regret it now, though, because they died in obscure poverty while Coca Cola is still around to this day!

The Tymes: Ms Grace

A classic swing, with close harmony soul singing from a time when records were worth listening to. The bass, as ever, sets the tempo, and your feet can’t help but dance. The brass is mixed unusually, compressed into the background, almost a ghostly presence, but part of the whole. And the sublime way this record starts – well listen, all you people, you know what we mean.

The Tymes Factoid: The lyric ‘Ooo – oo – oo, Ms Grace; Sat-Nav for the human race’ predates the invention of sat-navs for cars by several decades which was extremely prescient of the band.

Ace: How Long    

Any DJ worth his salt will have this Paul Carrack record stowed away. Great in its own right, but with its ominous baseline but disco harmony it is a perfect crossroad record – from here, you can go anywhere – for example you can play Squeeze next or the axe in the middle can lead you into rock. Perfidious but wonderful.

Ace Factoids: Paul Carrack was an understated genius, like Nick Lowe, he was everywhere. But his greatest claim to fame was inspiring Lemme from Motorhead into writing ‘Ace of Spades’. A wonderful but lesser known fact upon hearing this, Lemme said 'That's Ace, that is.'

Squeeze: Up The Junction

The sweeter end of punk, pub rock, but don’t let that stop you – the song tells a story: – of nappies, basements, unwanted children and putting a tenner away. A generation ago, nothing ever changes – but there’s poetry here too: the weather is ‘brass and bitter’ and we are taken from ‘bar, to street, to bookie’.

Squeeze Factoid: ‘Annie Get Your Gun’ was not, in fact, anything to do with Doris Day. Jools Holland said that he had once had a boyhood crush on Day but it had ended when he saw Sophia Loren in ‘Houseboat’ doing the ‘Bing Bang Bong’ song. For her part, Doris Day has nothing to say about any romantic connection with Jools. We rang her up and she confessed to never having heard of him. ‘I confess I have never heard of him’ were her precise words but she delivered them in an attractive southern belle drawl.

Buzzcocks: Ever Fallen in Love

Three minute perfect pop, all thrash guitars and a thriftily shuffled two or three chords. Pete Shelley’s vocals are high and almost effete. Terrific and it never outstays its welcome. The message is something we all can identify with.

Buzzcocks Factoid: The Buzzcocks were formed in Bolton. Other famous things from Bolton include bolts which is where the name of the town is derived from. Indeed, at one time Shelley and Devoto toyed with the idea of calling the band Boltscocks. But it sounded stupid.

The Jam: Going Underground

We’re right into new wave territory now, and it’s time to pogo up and down and spit on the floor. This is a very famous tune – Paul Weller’s first number one and one for the blokes to look tough to. Pounding drums, snarling guitar and an inventive bass from Foxton. Terrific. But only on vinyl.

The Jam: Factoid: Paul Weller was scared of underground trains and would beg his uncaring relatives not to make him ‘Go Underground’ but to no avail, his father insisted it would ‘put some spine in the boy’ and would encourage him to jump from the escalator then deliberately step aside in order that he should ‘never trust nobody, son’.

WHAT? NO Christmas songs at a Christmas party? We've been swindled!

No - In fact, you've been saved.

From SONGS like these:

Beastie Boys: (Fight For Your Right To) Party

In order to escape a niche, this is another good crossroads record – snarling heavy metal riffs, but nobody cares because they’re too busy trashing your front room. Actually some of the lyrics are quite amusing ‘Your mum just threw away your best porno mags’.

Beastie Boys Factoid: In the late eighties, the Beastie Boys (stupid name) were touted as the new Sex Pistols for their defiant attitude to authority and inspired a mini press campaign to get them banned from our great British shores. Watching the video to this song it’s easy to see why: baguettes are thrown, custard pies flung, soda siphons squirted into faces and telephones are vandalised. Yes right. We’ve seen more violence and mayhem in episodes of ‘Bodger and Badger’.

Deee-Lite: Groove is in the Heart

Nearly at the end of our walk through singles Christmas party – this is our last one tonight because, frankly, we’re drunk – we hope you’ve enjoyed it. This is a perfect dance track, a walking bass and strange synthesised sounds; samples from other sixties track and a swanee whistle. All guaranteed to evoke a Macarena swinging sixties sound. Lady Miss Kier wouldn’t be out of place in Austin Powers.

What have we learnt tonight?

I’ll tell you what we’ve learnt tonight, here at Drunken Vinyls, it is a damn sight easier reviewing one album than it is a whole host of singles. We hope you have a happy Christmas and that you get a new record player for the New Year. Very happy and drunken vinyls to you all. Last word to Big Pat.

M is for M C HAMMER - PLEASE, HAMMER! DON'T HURT 'EM

M

M C HAMMER 

PLEASE HAMMER, DON’T HURT ‘EM

‘And Incidentally, A Merry Christmas To All You At Home’

Well, look here! Half way through the year and half way through our voyage from east to west exploring all vinyl records known to man. Already we have been contacted by Future-Kind here at DVHQ registering their interest in our historical account, our time capsule if you will, our attempt to recapture the past. As we have travelled, so have we adapted – from the crudity of our first postings to our sophisticated format now evident – but always, always we have never faltered in our attempt to reject all that is false about modern living – no texting, X Box, Blueberries or Hoodies here, thank you - and to role back history to a happier, more innocent time when vinyl records ruled the world, buying them at Woolworths at pocket money prices was an event, where owning them became our religion and when we were jiving along with Noel Edmonds, Tony Blackburn and Sir Lord Jimmy Saville (R.I.P.) to the super soar-away Top 40 on a Sunday evening after tea.

Role back history? We needn’t have bothered. Over the last fortnight, history has come to us. Hurrah! We give you: The Great Strike: 30 November 2011.

Cultural Primer: What exactly is a strike? What does the withdrawal of labour mean? This question has been posed by several of our younger correspondents who had difficulty grasping the concept of withdrawing their labour as a protest for better pay or working conditions. Two of these simply had no concept of work whatsoever: Quote: ‘Work, what’s that dude?’  Fifteen others – presumably female (but we couldn’t swear to it) confused the concept with unmarried pregnancy and only asked because they thought we knew where they could claim nappy benefits or municipal housing and four others assumed it referred to actions appropriate to ‘lighting some puff’. We could go into the philosophy and mechanics of striking but fear we would be wasting our time as all of the above admitted that they could not read. Suffice it to say that strikes were banned by Her Majesty the Queen back in 1979 and a jolly good thing too. Arch traitor and treacherous fly-boy Jeremy Clarkson admitted last week on national television: ‘I would go on strike like a shot!’ and we could never condone such rash action by a so called television personality and spokesman for a generation. We have always lived our lives according to the gentle wisdom and insight of Hip-Hop Artist Named Reveal and our interpretations of his hymnal lyrics.

Now you may well be asking yourselves that why, after thirty years of peaceful cooperation between the workers and the owners of the means of production there was even a strike in the first place? It is claimed that two million workers poured like a torrent out from the factories and onto the streets simmering with anger and anguish in equal measure. But, this is a blatant lie, spun by the left wing communist press! We know this is a lie because there aren’t any factories anymore.

But no, we hear you cry! Wait! Those two million must have come from somewhere, surely? Well, yes - yes they did. They came from the schools, the car park attendant boxes, the council tax offices, the underground public toilets and they came to protest. It was just like the old days when there was a power cut twice nightly and we were forced – ahem – to make our own entertainment. Just ask Sir Bruce Forsyth, he knows all about it. (Please see ‘Fox by Fox’ our September posting for further details)

But why was this allowed to happen? Still you howl at us in fear and despair. Why? We’ll tell you why – politicians, that’s why! All those years ago, Her Majesty the Queen of Great Britain decreed that all politicians should be old, tough, ugly and stand for no nonsense. It was a country where twaddle was banned and claptrap was driven out of town like a leprous rat found foraging amongst the debris newly spilt from a BJ doner kebab dustbin of a Friday night.

However, these fine upstanding citizens and leaders have since been quietly retired to a seaside town near Worthing, with just the faintest whiff of conspiracy, or old age, you choose, to be replaced by a new breed, soft and flabby around the edges, spouting rubbish like ‘we care’, ‘we listen’ and ‘the big society’ (whatever the heck that is) and they are the ultimate procrastinators. Faced with the decision of how to punish an ugly misbegotten militant worker standing in defiance and insolently brandishing a ballot paper these ninnies would forego the proffered flogging option of yore and most probably banish him to the naughty step like Supernanny. Which, ironically, is what the rest of the world now calls modern Britain with its X Boxes, Texting and Blueberries – to them we are ‘The SuperNanny State’. And as such we are behind these brave strikers, for as the country came slowly to a sticky halt for twenty four hours, our leaders fiddled whilst Rome burned, frowned sternly and waved a flaccid digit.

And where were our so called leaders when this debacle was allowed to occur? You may well ask, indeed you may well. Well ponder no more, dear readers, for we’ll tell you exactly where they were: they were held up on the M1 in North Yorkshire because of a Marmite Slick. Yes, that’s right – a giant black clammy slick of Britain’s most controversial toast topping due to a tanker coming face to face with two innocent, industrious German musicians who were innocently perfecting their meisterwork and inadvertently causing the misnegotiation by the Marmite juggernaut of the notoriously narrow exit slip of Junction 34, the (Dawn) Tinsley Viaduct. Disaster, inevitably, ensued with hilarious consequences:

Ralph: Ve must carefully observe zee process, Florian, but vait! Where is Leon, mein chum?

Florian: Leon? But surely he is in zee zoological park!

Ralph: Zoological park! Oh vot a witty rejoinder, you dummkopf!

Florian: But I could not resist, mein pal. Shall I hit zee motorway like so?

Ralph: Ja and I shall apply zee portable tape recorder like so.

Florian: Mein pal, I have zee confusion, no? Zee hammer it sticks to the tarmac!

Ralph: Vill you stop already with zee gut sense of zee humour, alten kumpel!

Florian: Nicht! Achtung! Donner und blitzen! Und giant slick of zee Marmite! Aaaargh! Save me, I drown!

Ralph: Vell, you either love it or hate it, Florian. Av you got any of zee Englander toast?

If you need any further proof than this as to whom the real culprits for the great strike of November 2011 were, then look no further than this ready reckoner of the leaders of our Great Britain. On the left, the take no prisoners, make no compromise generation and, on the right, our Marmite munching chums.

But, we’re here to confront a widely held common myth too: strikes aren’t always bad so don’t believe everything you read. Much good can come from militant behaviour! Without strikers and their confrontational red leaders, there would be virtually no seventies television or classic film comedy for a culturally starved modern British populace to enjoy on You Tube. Writers were positively inspired by the bad behaviour of the unions. Just enjoy some of these classic lines from our very own legendary British situation comedies, and keep a straight face, if you dare!

Major: Strike, strike, strike, why do we bother, eh, Fawlty?

Basil: Shut up you rancid, elderly, fascist bastard. Oh, my word, a kipper. (Pratfalls)

Smithy: Power to the people!

Tucker: But Smiffy, the miners are on strike and there is no power at all!

Smithy: Well, shine a light…

Tucker: Exactly, Smiffy. Doner kebab? Or shall we steal a tank?

Beryl: Oh-ey, Sand, the biscuit factory’s on strike again! Couldn’t get nuttin!

Sandra: Pickets?

Beryl: Oh –ey, no! There were no biscuits!

Sandra: Piss off and talk properly you common slag!

CJ: Morning Reggie, sit down.

Reggie: Morning, CJ (Chair makes a farting noise). Sorry, CJ, I think it’s the chair.

CJ: Yes, most embarrassing, I must complain to the manufacturers, cigar?

Reggie: Thank you, CJ. (CJ traps Reggie’s fingers in cigar tin)

CJ: Reggie! Would it surprise you to know that production is down by 98%?

Reggie: Not really, CJ, the factory’s gone on strike.

Tony: Great!

David: Super!

CJ: Strike, eh? I didn’t get where I am today by going on strike! It’s not the British way! Neither Mrs CJ or I have ever humped a placard on a picket line!

Reggie: I imagine not, CJ. (Reggie daydreams a fantasy where he and Joan are licking coal lumps in slow motion whilst CJ rapidly humps a striking miner until the candle on his helmet is extinguished in ecstasy)

But surely, the absolute gem on the top of the diamond mine is the 1985 entry to the ever popular ‘Carry On’ series: ‘Carry on Shafting’ an affectionate look at the trials and tribulations of some comedy miners, their trade union spokespeople and their effeminate boss Arthur Biscuit, leader of the not so tough Coal Union of National Toilers, played by the evergreen Kenneth Williams. It was set in the fictional grimy northern mining town of Dumpborough, in Turveyshire. Here’s an excerpt from the shooting script that captures the sheer hilarity of it all. It’s a dirty job but they’ll ‘carry on’ doing it!

Arthur: (strolling over to a pit) Oo-er! Look at that hole! It’s ever so inviting!

Sid Pottle: (running, out of breath) Arfur! Arfur! Timmy’s trapped up the shaft!

Arthur: Ooooo! Get away! How did he get up your shaft?

Sid Pottle: We’ll need a big rod to prize open a hole!

Arthur: Ooooo! I’ve seen your big rod, Sid Pottle, and it’s won prizes!

In the meantime we cut to a nurse walking in high heels across the slag heap. Cue comedy music with brass band to signify being ‘Up North’. POV shot from Sid Pottle and then zoom into enormous bouncing assets of actress. (Note: possibly Barbara, if available)

Sid Pottle: Phwoooooooaaaaarrr!

Arthur: Oh yes, look at that slag!

Sid Pottle: Now that’s not right gentlemanly, Arfur!

Arthur: No, I meant that slag. The pile of clinker! The mountains!

Sid Pottle: Yes I’d like to get me hands on them mountains alright. Yakyakyak!

Camera pans slowly across a grim landscape. Stock footage of collieries – insert. At this point musical director to insert ‘that tune from the Hovis bread advert’, signifying ‘northern grimness’ but remember to delete voiceover from same advertisement during post production. Crash-zoom into window where large, horrendously ugly woman is polishing some jugs. (Note possibly Hattie, if not recording season 12 of ‘Sykes’)

Nora Pottle: (screeching loudly) I can see you, Sydney Pottle! You’re dirty, that’s what you are, dirty! Not like these jugs I’m polishing!

Sid Pottle: I wouldn’t mind polishing her jugs. Yakyakyakyak!

Camera cuts to two little birds tweeting and playing on the slag heap – use stock footage from some Attenborough wildlife programme or other.

Arthur: Look at the tits on that slag heap, playing with each other!

Sid Pottle: I wouldn’t mind playing with the tits on that slag, and that’s no lie! Yakyakyakyak!

  

M

M C HAMMER 

PLEASE HAMMER, DON’T HURT ‘EM

The History of Rap and Hip Hop

In the days before downloads, texting and iPods, when vinyl records ruled the super seventies, a new phenomena, called rapping, hit the charts. It was deemed a novelty then, a fad, a mere bagatelle. But now, some thirty years on since ‘Rappers Delight’ by The Sugarhill Gang, it dominates our cultural and musical landscape. Once R and B was shorthand for grungy 12 bar blues brought from America and subsequently adopted by poseurs like The Yardbirds and The Rolling Stones; now it equates to endless screeching melismas by female chanteuses whilst some grotty bloke dressed in a hoody and baseball cap grunts ‘uh – uh’ in the background whilst waving his fingers around manically. No matter. So it goes.

Top of the heap and king of the shag pile was our artist tonight, M C Hammer, the undisputed rap-meister supreme as acknowledged by all his peers of the time. With his grintastic big trousers, his masterful preening and pirouetting and catchphrase ‘Stop! Hammer Time!’ he dominated the charts of the time and the ensuing history of this great art form. It is his record that we review tonight. But, before we get to the music, and as you set up your decks, let’s cast a fond look back at the records that influenced him and their place in musical heritage.

 THE NOT QUITE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF DRUNKEN VINYLS

1. Thou shalt play both sides of the record in their entirety
2. Thou shalt drink one can of Fosters or its alcohol equivalent per song
3. Thou shalt record ramblings as they occur to thee for the duration of the running time
4. Thou shalt edit out the swearing the next day
5. Thou shalt not suffer a Blueberry user to live

M

M C HAMMER 

PLEASE HAMMER, DON’T HURT ‘EM

Tonight’s Sponsors: Dow’s Trademark Finest Reserve Port – a surprisingly good way to lesson the pain of being hit with The Hammer

All set up, are we? Well pull on your Best Bling, switch on the M.I.C. and let’s all scowl down the camera, shall we? Now don’t forget to wave your fingers, will you?

1.         "Here Comes the Hammer"           

How do we describe this? Well there’s somebody with a Cassio mini synthesiser playing one note with one finger – the same note. Some people are chanting oh-ee-oh-oh-oh in the background; mixed as though they were in the next studio. Memorable lyrics? ‘Let’s make it smooth.’ ‘Pick up the hammer’ ‘No, no, damn, they call me the Hammer’ ‘Woof Woof!’ ‘Let’s make it smooth’ (again). This could be a very long evening, dear readers. We sweat for you, we really do. Love us, love us.

2.         "U Can't Touch This" 

Plenty of trademark ‘woahs’ and a smingey cassio keyboard again. Wobble wobble wobble. The bass is quite good on this one – we seem to remember enormous trousers. ‘Break it Down!’ Oh yes – ‘Stop, Hammer Time!’ ‘Wobble wobble wobble’. We was robbed. This got in the charts? We once broke down on the A303, near Podimore, and, believe it or not, when Jack Plectrum’s Breakdown Truck turned up, they did actually use a hammer. You know you’re onto a less than classic record when your mind slips like Timeslip. Timeslip: – now there was a good programme – more of which during track three, our lovelies. We though that this shitting record has gone on for ages and then we noticed the needle was stuck. Why would Hammer ever stop doing this? Please, Hammer, please stop.

           

3.         "Have You Seen Her"

Aw! We loved the Chilites – ‘Homely Girl, used to being lonely, you’re a beautiful woman!’ So what is Mr Hammer going to do with this classic? Ruin it, most probably. Do you remember when Johnny Rotten said, ‘Have you ever felt cheated?’ He was most probably listening to Hip Hop at the time. But we must not prejudge. Let’s listen to it. Well it’s slowed right down; the backing sample is second to none. Of course it is – we’re back in the seventies. What we have here, listener is a classic record completely spoilt by some complete tosser talking bollocks over it. An experience reminiscent to being in the cinema with some popcorn rustling twats behind you.

4.         "On Your Face"

We’re in funkadelic territory here – another pretty good brassy funk backing track – but just when you think it’s okay and cool, some tosser starts wittering on and on and on about how Britain was better with a Labour prime minister and how there’s too much sexual innuendo in Carry On movies these days. God knows what he means by ‘On Your Face’ – we imagine he’s used to wiping lots of fluid off his face – now he’s shouting ‘This world can race, but what about sadness?’ Now that’s a non sequitur if ever we heard one.

5.         "Help the Children"            

Oh sweet life. This is most probably some tribute to that wretched boreathon ‘Children In Need’ which turns up every November like an unwanted turd that you can’t flush away. With Gabby Roslin and Terry Wigon? And then all these tossers off Eastenders turn up and start sing ‘What the World Needs Now is Love Sweet Love’ or something, ‘All the Good Girls Love a Sailor’ – this vaguely reminds you of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Mercy Mercy Me’ and therefore you instantly wish you were listening to that instead. Hammer just said he was dying for a crap. We ain’t lying! Help the children? All you have to do, dear Hammer, is stop making records like this. ‘A better day is coming?’ Yes when we get past this.

Oh Hip Hop, Up Yours.

Side Two.

6.        "Dancin' Machine"

Ah!!! Side Two – the good thing about records, we reckon, and something we’ve lost, with CDs and Downloads – which you can programme – is the satisfaction of turning the record over – and starting afresh. So a stinker of a Side 1 can be offset by a brilliant Side 2 which makes you replay the Side 1 and realise – hey – that wasn’t so bad as I thought! So, here we go, wit: Dancing Machine! And we, for two, are looking forward to that dancing experience! Last night one of us was in the pub when Barry White came on and one of us started playing ‘Air Bass-guitar’. We were challenged by a lovely lady. ‘Are you playing air-bass?’ The one of us nodded. She joined us for ‘Red red robin’. How can we describe this? Very similar to the last few tracks. ‘Come on Hammer!’, ‘We’re Dancing!’, ‘M C Hammer’, ‘ Tell ‘em, tell ‘em’ ‘I do my thing on a video screen.’ Eh? Shit. Shitey Shit Shit Shit.

7.         "Pray" 

           

The last refuge of a scoundrel. Ripping off the mighty Prince. Or Tafkap, we care not. This song is a bit like ‘When Doves Cry’ by Prince, but with extremely trite lyrics (almost as if composed by a five year old child) and some complete berk talking over the top of it – again. You don’t believe us? Well dig this, if you dare. ‘That’s why we pray, that’s why we pray, we need to pray, just to make it today.’ Make what? He doesn’t tell us. If he was on Blue Peter, he would have made one earlier with sticky backed plastic.

8.         "Crime Story"           

This is the philosophical heart of the LP – the ‘Within You Without You’ if you will – every hip hop LP has to have one – and it takes a look of the dark underbelly of Western civilization – a searing expose of all that is wrong – and we really like the synthesised fart half way through which adds so much to the aural experience. The lyrics add much to this: ‘Crime Story! No Glory! (Synthesised fart) We took those suckers out!’ This is so good it makes us wonder if Hammer knows Hip Hop Artist and Guru to a Generation, Reveal?

9.         "She's Soft and Wet"

Now what could this be about? And anyway it’s another Prince sample The Hammer is incorrigible. All he makes us want to do is play the proper record – Mercy Mercy Me, When Doves Cry and Timeslip. That was a scary old programme though, with its clones, its burn ups, its ice box and so on. We were relieved to hear that the same kids we used to hang out with in the seventies are still carving out a living by writing make-believe tales about Blake and Avon. Again, this went on for a suspiciously long time – until we realised the needle was stuck. ‘They call me Hammer, move a little bit closer, I’m a little bit different to the average Joe, I don’t mean no disrespect, but tell me girl are you soft and wet?’. Get away.

10.       "Let's Go Deeper" 

Oh, please Hammer, let’s not go any deeper. No? O.K. then – all the homeboys like them soft and wet, as you say. Execrable.

What Have We Learnt Tonight?

Well we’re not bloody turning this record over, that’s for sure, Steve Bruce.

We finish on a sad note tonight, as sometimes we must. We were upset to hear the distressing story of a woman – let’s call her Noreen – who was faced with a bill that she could not pay. Her son had spent some time on his mobile phone and had run up an invoice of £900. She was horrified and heartbroken when the company – let’s call it ‘Lemon’ - informed her by text that she was to be cut off. Her solution? To telephone the BBC on the mobile phone to warn others of the perfidious and treacherous phone company and its tariff. She should sue them for breach of contract in that they failed to warn her earlier about her son’s legitimate and charming proclivities. We offer our deepest sympathies here at DeeVees

Oh Noreen. Can’t you see it? Auf Weidersehen, Pet.

LED ZEPPELIN - LED ZEPPELIN 2

L

LED ZEPPELIN

2

Aloha! And it’s a balmy hail, but not farewell, to you, daring adventurer, from Drunken Vinyls, aka DrunkenVinyls or DeeVees for short, from us here at DVHQ. You: bold seeker of all that is lost, here you are, probably by accident, weeping salt tears and shaking a woeful countenance at all we have so wantonly wasted in the name of progress.

We share your pain and every so often are wont to play a vinyl record before throwing it away in the dustbin of history. Our aim is to catalogue every vinyl record from ‘A’ to ‘Z’ before we die for posterity – and that’s 26 records! It helps if you join us which is why we urge you to play along with us, set up your decks, get the disc and drink one can of ale or its alcoholic equivalent as each track strokes past like the sweeping hand of Billy the road sweeper; he who cleans the kerbs near where we live.

So put aside the trappings of this mediocre century for a little while – do not text, LOL or PYSL, repent you of your Blueberry and put aside setting up that Facebook tribute site for just a couple more hours.

L

LED ZEPPELIN

2

Setting Up Time

Setting up your decks is extremely irritating when, like us, you are old and your eyesight is so poor you cannot see which cable gets pushed into which socket, or, indeed which bit to twiddle with. The people in our lives frequently complain about this but we assure them the longer it takes, the better it is. We will, we assert, get down to the business presently. And what business it shall be too! So, as the dusk draws in and you fiddle and twiddle uncertainly to get maximum pleasure, we cast a look backwards to recent events in history that will help us contextualise the drunken vinylness even further.

Football has been in the news this week, something we clearly know very little about because one of us is stupid enough to follow Charlton Athletic. So to get with the programme we watched Chelsea against Liverpool and it was fun with a capital Fun!

Our favourite footballer was a small chap, Craig he may have been called, in a bright red shirt. Whenever we saw him, his little invidious eyes were screwed and scowling, watering with envy, his mouth turned down into a sneer more permanent than that carved into a stone Moses by Michelangelo; a dour man whose main contribution to the football game was running very fast, barging into an opponent, knocking him over and then jabbering furiously, craning his neck to peer upwards at with simmering resentment, from his perspective, the toweringly tall referee. Every so often, the crowd in red would cheer his altercations on by singing a monotonous dirge accompanied by poorly choreographed handclaps. It was great.

Clearly a talented debater, we wonder what our Craig would have said to cartoon villain of the week, Sepp Blatter?

Cultural Primer: In the late twentieth and early twenty first century, satirical popular artists from Holland invented Sepp Blatter, an ancient and strangely Dickensian caricature hailing from Switzerland. The character, as drawn by the cartoonists, claimed to like football. In fact, History has noted that he didn’t really know very much about the game at all which is why every time he voiced an opinion in popular cartoon strip ‘Roy of the Rangers’ it was usually very silly indeed. Up there with the likes of Dick Dastardly, Mutley and the Hooded Claw (aka Sylvester Sweetley) this loveable old duffer had to be pulped when he unwittingly annoyed and received death threats from some religious fundamentalists by claiming that ‘football was bigger than Christ’ in Daily Express strip no.325 ‘If Jesus Came to Earth, He’d be a Charlton Fan’.

Sepp Blatter – a caricature notorious for the sporting gaffes attributed to him. These have been affectionately dubbed ‘BlatterBalls’ by a vaguely amused public. Amongst the best of a good bunch are these:

• Women should wear tighter shorts and swap shirts at the end of each game so the crowd can see their plunging bras – this would improve television ratings for the women’s game.
• It’s good for footballers to have extra marital affairs if they come from Italy.
• Racism will be solved with a simple handshake between players at the end of a game.

The character came a cropper, however, when he uttered the following ill advised statement: I’m more popular than Jesus now; I don't know which will go first — penalties or Christianity. Jesus was all right on the wing, but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It's them on the ball that ruins it for me.

Several hundred fatwas were issued almost immediately and in the Deep South of the United States, Blatter’s best selling comedy LPs ‘A Hard Day’s Blatt’ and ‘Rubber Blatter’ were hurled onto huge pyres by furious fans and burnt long into the night; a reaction against Blattermania. Which, incidentally, is why none are available today.

A  historical footnote, zany prankster Sepp Blatter was quietly retired from the popular newspaper strip and indeed the football strip and is now an out of work cartoon character.

And speaking of work or lack of it, we were very perturbed and somewhat upset to witness another phenomenon of ‘Cash Strapped Britain’: yoof unemployment has gone over the million mark. Why? We cannot say. But we can help. If you are a yoof or no fixed employment you could do worse than to try our easy to fill out ‘Help Yourself to a Job’ sample yoof job application form. Simply circle the answer that most ‘applies’ to you and see whether you are ‘Fit For Work’!

Drunken Vinyls Presents:

The ‘Are YOU Employable? FIT FOR WORK’ Job application Form

L

LED ZEPPELIN

2

What’s The Story?

Today’s back-story is a long and complicated tale of twisted metal and flaming cloth. ‘You’ll go down like a lead balloon!’ Legend has it that these words were spoken to Robert Plant and Jimmy Page before the inaugural performance of Heavy Metal super group Led Zeppelin prior to their taking the stage to begin the most thrilling ride of the super seventies. It is said, by those who witnessed the portentous power of that night, that as they mounted the stage, the world did shiver and tremble, so mighty was the noise and screams of “Planty! Planty! Planty!”

But how did they get there? What strange and mystical forces were behind the colossus that became Led Zeppelin?

In order to untangle the warp and weft, it is necessary to go back to the nineteen seventies (probably). Imagine, if you will, a much younger Robert Plant, Bob for short, or indeed Bobby, named for Wolverhampton Wanderers football hero Stan ‘Bobby’ Cullis. There he is gazing skywards with his Great Aunty Blodwen from Welsh Wales, looking up at the mighty Zeppelin, straining like some huge black dog battling with gravity against its temporary moorings; berthed in the glamour port of Llanelli prior to its round Wales trip via Dunstable, Bedfordshire.

Young Bobby Plant pensively strokes his bearded chin. ‘Hmmm. Black Dog. Like a Black Dog.’

As Bobby makes to run up the angled steps leading towards the cabin with the confidence of only the very young, Great Aunty Blodwen takes hold of his shoulders firmly. ‘No, look you, boyo,” she cries, ‘That leads to the outdoor, look you. You cannot be going in through the outdoor, can you, boyo?”

‘Yeeess’, thinks young Bobby, ‘In Through the Outdoor.’ And the beard gets another firm stroking and the long flowing blonde locks are tossed in a manner just short of studied haughtiness.

Once aboard the Zeppelin, in flight and on course for Dunstable, Bedfordshire via Brecon, Oswestry and Ross on Wye, young Bobby Page  looks around the crowded bar and observation deck. Although too young to drink or smoke yet, his mind races with the possibilities. He listens as the in-flight attendant speaks of life jackets, flames and emergency exits before skipping lightly to more pleasant prospects: ‘Welcome to our tour of the important Welsh motorway junctions of Britain. We will be travelling at a height of ten feet above ground level and cruising at a speed of seven knots. Just beneath us: Junction 32 of the M1. Observe if you will that it is a partially unrolled cloverleaf or parclo for short.’

Over in the corner, he observes, with the keenness of a poet, two groups of strangely attired peoples, distinctly confrontational, involved in some drunken face off that young Plant barely understands. But his keen mind grasps just enough – the brightly coloured ones in their primary reds, yellows and blues square up to those dressed in duller, more functionally military costumes. And he strains to hear as the bearded, Asiatic almost alien one speaks with belligerence:

‘Frankly, I never liked Earthers.’ He opines in a soft impertinent drawl. ‘They remind me of Regulan blood worms. No. I just remembered. There is one Earthman who doesn't remind me of a Regulan blood worm. That's Kirk. A swaggering, overbearing, tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood.’

Bobby is on the cusp of a manly snigger at the other’s rudeness but notices that the tension is building up almost imperceptibly and quickly stifles it. It looks as though the one in the brightest red tunic is about to fight. His fist is balled. He looks dazed and confused at the communication breakdown. And the two groups are right beside a giant lever marked with the legend in giant sans serif red capital letters. ‘Emergency Zeppelin Crashing Switch!! Do Not Push Under Any Circumstances! You Will Cause A CRASH!’

‘Of course, I see it all now, dazed and confused, communication breakdown. There isn’t a whole lot of love between these groups of people. No sir.’ And young Bobby Plant smiles with the vision.

‘Of course, I'd say that Captain Kirk deserves his ship. We like the Enterprise. We, really really do. That sagging old rust bucket is designed like a garbage scow. Half the quadrant knows it,’ grins the swaggering bearded Asiatic with the lumpy forehead, knowing that his words are hitting home and twisting the red shirted one like shards of glass.

And in response these words, he finally speaks, with reserved resentment and grim intent. ‘Laddie, don't you think you should rephrase that?’ He mutters, raising the clenched fist with threat and purpose.

‘You're right, I should. I didn't mean to say that the Enterprise should be hauling garbage. I meant to say that it should be hauled away as garbage,’ opines the lumpy one with a sneering chuckle at his comrades. And, with that, all hell breaks loose as the first punch is thrown. Young Bobby is seized with panic as a previously unseen light orchestra in the corner of the bar strikes up a comical slapstick ‘bar brawl in outer space’ number. Fists are thrown. Chairs are broken. Glasses are smashed on heads. As a flying body sprawls akimbo against it, the giant emergency lever is pressed to the ‘Crash the Zeppelin’ position!’

Great Aunty Blodwen seizes young Bobby by the hand as the Zeppelin spirals helplessly out of control, diving from its altitude of nine feet, heading straight for the newly opened M42, Birmingham section. ‘We’re going to crash, we’re going to crash!’ screams Bob, in terror, ‘And we’re heading for some comedy Germans from last week’s blog entry!  They appear to be hitting the motorway with hammers and recording the tone on what can only be described as portable tape cassette recorders!’

‘Yes, look you, boyo, if we cop an ear, we can perchance listen to their comical discourse, look you, boyo,’ screams Blodwen, pitching from side to side like some monstrous harpooned Welsh whale. A giant Moby Dick of a woman she points her brass ear trumpet downwards the unsuspecting electrosynthpop outfit.

Ralph: Look Florian I am hitting zee motorway with zee hammer just so.

Florian: Yes mein chum, a semitone higher than zee one on zee newly opened M1 autostrada from last week.

Ralph: But where is Hans?

Florian: Hans? On zee end of mein arms.

Ralph: You Dummkopff. I am laughing like zee drain. I wet myself. You possess zee gut sense of zee humour mein pal.

Florian: Yes. Zee fun fun fun on zee autobahn.

Ralph: (in Panic) Donner und blitzen! Achtung! Achtung! Und Zeppellin is now improbably heading directly for us. We will never complete zee experiment!

Florian: Nooooooo! It eez a wreck of twisted metal and flaming cloth! Vot is and vot should never be! Like und giant Moby Dick! Und trombonist is descending towards us like undgiant hearing trumpet! Aaaargh!

Ralph: On no, I am being covered in zee burning cloth! The twisted metal is, even now, ruining our experiment! Zee road is covered in a comedy brass band!

Suffice it to say it all ends happily – how? We do not know and now we return to the recent past imperfect. “Planty! Planty! Planty!” scream the crowd as he bounds onto the stage. Where did they get their inspiration? Who can say? It’s all a part of history now.

THE NOT QUITE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF DRUNKEN VINYLS

1. Thou shalt play both sides of the record in their entirety
2. Thou shalt drink one can of Fosters or its alcohol equivalent per song
3. Thou shalt record ramblings as they occur to thee for the duration of the running time
4. Thou shalt edit out the swearing the next day
5. Thou shalt not suffer a Blueberry user to live

All set up, are we? Well get into your hot air balloons because it’s finally time to rise above it all and let the music commence with:

L

LED ZEPPELIN

2

Sponsored by Carling Black Label, This week’s surprisingly good beer accompaniment.

Side One

Can 1.            "Whole Lotta Love" 

Searching for inspiration, as we have said, Page and Plant looked no further than popular television show Top of the Pops for their first tune, shamelessly stealing the chord progression and chugging rhythms in order to provide them with an instantly recognisable hook. Now we’re really lying. It was the other way around….the vinyl crackles and splutters like fat on the hob. The blues changes and licks chug along, mixed nice and low, to emphasise Plant’s voice, almost falsetto. As you will know, so famous is the song, the instruments drop out to be replaced with a Bonham solo, all high hat and bossa nova on the bongos whilst Plant screams love and groans in the background like some ironically loveless banshee. The lyrics are best described as humpingly dirty: ‘Every inch of my love, way down inside’ that’s filthy, that is, and not something we would ever endorse, here at the Towers. He’s very sure of himself, in any case, she might turn him down. Thank heavens that’s over, we are very jealous indeed and haven’t heard as many orgasms since we inadvertently listened to ‘Love to Love You Baby’ by Donna Summer. “I keep a coolly baby?” What’s that all about, then? Is love making some kind of drug? We DON’T think so, Bobby.

Can 2.            "What Is and What Should Never Be"             

After the last track reaches its climax and screams to a halt, this is pleasingly low key and provides an excellent contrast. It’s mainly a funky bass line with acoustic mixed very low down – until the chorus – wherein all hell is let loose. What’s particularly pleasing is the superb use of stereo on this track – it pans across from speaker to speaker – you will only get this on the original vinyl. We never did really find out what should never be, but we don’t care.

Can 3.            "The Lemon Song"          

This song references taking something that is like a lemon and then squeezing it until it’s empty and seedless. We are neither clever enough or possess the motivation to find out just what the object is. We doubt that it’s Jif. It’s probably something very dirty and filthy like our mamas told us not to touch. An ominous grinding axe in an ascending scale double tracked with the bass while Plant maintains a high horizontal vocal. He should have listened – to whom we cannot be sure – perhaps the eponymous lemon itself? Lemons can be worth listening to, we remember a Sandie Shaw record about a lemon tree: very pretty. But before our witless ramblings on (ha ha) finish, a complete change of tempo upwards and Page’s guitar replaces Plant in a virtuoso performance the like of which you rarely hear these days. You notice how each instrument is foregrounded, now it’s the turn of Jones on bass as he threatens to overwhelm the maestro himself. It’s so alive, this song. ‘It’s alive!’ You don’t fool us, that bass is using blues changes, they may be disguised but they’re down on this killing floor, we tells you.

Can 4.            "Thank You"          

An overblown and over produced ballad, but you’ve got to have one. Brilliant. Little ‘Beatles’ touches everywhere. The chord changes are like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. A love paean. Play it to your lover. We think you’ll like the results. Today your world, it smiles. A great false ending, too.

Side Two

Can 5.            "Heartbreaker"      

‘The way you call me another man’s name when I try to make love to you.’ And who hasn’t had that happen to them, eh gentlemen? Why we remember quite clearly back in 1972 we was trying to make love to some person or other, it’s a bit of a blur now, to be honest, but we’re fairly she screeched ‘Stanley! Stanley! There are two men trying to make love to me, sort it out will you?” Although that might have been us watching ‘Carry on at Your Convenience’ This record is full of menacing, ascending chord sequences and this one is GRINTASTIC, despite the terrifying subject matter – a woman who’s only purpose in life is to break hearts – but, and this is crucial, man – she’s been found out and she must repent her of her wicked ways. And we fellers, for we are included in this track, come one, come all, we fellers, we are warned. Ten years have gone by, and now she is back. Bloody women.

Can 6.            "Living Loving Maid (She's Just a Woman)"             

‘Alimony, alimony paying your bills’ We’ll tell you something, when we were young we looked up that word to try to understand the song. That’s education, that is – not like your hip hop crap of today, though. Drum and Bass? Shite. Dub Step? Don’t make us laugh. Music required effort between musician and listener. Lost. All is lost. This music is fantastic by the way. Great segue – which is appropriate because this is ‘Heartbreaker’ part two but, in a neat twist, from the lovely lady’s perspective. Ladies. Lovely ladies. A traditional up tempo rocker with call and response from the guitar. Buy this record, we command you!

Can 7.            "Ramble On"          

We are now a little pissed, though, and this seems to be something to do with the execrable ‘Lord of the Rings’. Did you see the third film? Shite. It ended. And then it ended again for another half an hour. If you ignore the narrative of the song, which seems to be some bloke wandering around looking for a made up girl in some made up country called Mordington, the musicianship is simply exquisite. Acoustic guitar rises and descends accompanied by bongos again and Plant’s vocals, for once, are restrained as appropriate.

Can 8.            "Moby Dick" 

Captain Ahab has a lot to answer for. We suspect that Moby Dick is a hymn to the father, we can’t be sure. The great white whale was even pursued by Captain Kirk in ‘The Wrath of Khan’, you know? We think that Moby Dick is a thinly disguised symbol for wanting your father’s respect. We never did. Every LP has a Moby Dick, you know, and this is it. If drums are your thing, you’ll dig the dick, if not, be patient, be calm. It’ll be over soon enough. CDs and downloads? This is the track you wouldn’t bother with – but it’s there, it exists and it’s part of the LP, so be cool. Dig the dick, man, dig the dick.

Can 9.            "Bring It On Home"           

We don’t think this is John Peel’s theme tune, he wouldn’t be so uncool as to have a Led Zeppelin track, but it sure as hell sounds like it, though. Fantastic track, this is way back in the blues of the deep south somewhere, even the mouth organ and the ‘watch out, watch out’ which we’ve heard somewhere  - a Clapton LP probably. Then, as is so often the case, electric replaces acoustic and the band explode into a three chord descending riff. God knows what it’s about, when it’s this good, you don’t care.

Another brilliant LP – we really have struck pay dirt recently.

What Have We Learnt Tonight?

As we mourn the passing of a week a brand new one is born and carried upon eagle’s wings, racing towards us with all the inevitability of a new gaffe from the mouth of FIFA president Sepp Blatter. Some would say that women do need to wear tighter shorts in order to engender more appreciation of the passing game and swap shirts at the end of a match, but not us, dear me no. We abhor the idea as we would abhor a rat in me kitchen what are you gonna do? Similarly we fear for the future of our yoof of today in that unless they learn more eye contact and less text contact, more ‘hello, how are you?’ and less, ‘Yo, diss is de way mon, ‘ow is you doing, bro?’ they may well find themselves having to spend even more time setting up Facebook tribute sites in order to while away the passing hours. Still, hell ain’t a bad place to me. We know. We read it on the back of an AC/DC LP cover. But then we can read.

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A DRUNKEN VINYLS CRAP PRODUCTION