Welcome, once again, to Drunken Vinyls
You have accidently entered (and why wouldn’t you?) into the most important scientific study known to man since Darwin discovered a town called Darwin in Australia whilst out and about discovering things.
‘Pon my soul!’ he probably said at the time, ‘That would be dashed handy if I lived there, for would it not save a lot of ink when religious nutters addressed letters to me? And plenteous quills from swans would no longer be required, thus saving them from many a watery grave!’
But we can’t be sure – although it is fairly well established he was into conservation.
We digress. Here, then, is our serious historical attempt to review all vinyl releases in the world ever since 1955, starting at A and ending at Z. It’s painstaking. And remember this is not for the IPOD generation – because we know who you are and we hate you all. So sod off and take your Blueberries with you.
We write this in order that those who come after us – future-kind as we like to think of them – will read these words and actually believe them. But as all simple people, we make our homes in the discarded stalks of toadstools. Therefore the survey MUST take place on a Friday – or any other suitable day of the week except Tuesdays - we hate Tuesdays – and furthermore that we must drink a can of Fosters per each track reviewed. Although one of us admits to liking Theakston’s Old Peculiar.
And we did B and A last week. So it’s B again.
THE BEATLES
THE BEATLES ARE THE CAMP FAMILY
THE MOST CRIMINAL RECORD EVER!
Old Beatles Joke: In 1973, Ringo enjoyed several hit records. In 1974 he bought some more and enjoyed those too.
But in 1975….one of the most popular groups in the world, The Beatles, attempted to bury their differences and reunited for one last time together in those famous studios at Abbey Road Camp Family
It’s easy to be cutting in retrospect but it’s fair to say that it wasn’t the most inspired idea they’d ever had. This LP became about as popular as a camembert cheese left for several days on the back seat of a Skoda in the Sahara desert.
Unsurprisingly it was Paul who was most enthusiastic about the new album. Temporarily disbanding his supergroup Wings for a long weekend, in order to spend some quality time with boyfriend John, it was he who suggested a camping trip to the Blue Ridged Mountains of Virginia inspired by his enjoyment of some episodes of ‘The Virginian’ he’d watched with his long term spouse, Linda, in between recording sessions for the ‘Venus and Mars’ long player.
In later interviews he explained his decision in his endearingly thick scouse accent: ‘I watched some episodes of The Virginian with Linda which inspired me.’
In a state of excitement he had telephoned John and was encouraged by his confession that he had now become hopelessly addicted to Marlboro Cigarettes and would love to, as he put it, ‘Come to Marlboro country, come to where the flavour is.’
By now both men were thoroughly stimulated and determined to reunite the greatest band ever to come from Woolton. Summoning George and Ringo by rubbing their magic lamps, in a puff, all four decamped from England only to set up camp in the vicinity of the aforementioned mountains at a place called ‘Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet’ with only the hard earth for a bed and the light of flickering candles to compose by. Paul instantly conjured up an exciting title for their new Magnus Opus: ‘The Virginian’. However, John – somewhat reasonably – suggested that this title had already been used and proffered ‘Marlboro County
Latterly, in interviews, Paul explained the dilemma in his charmingly broad scouse accent: ‘I suggested ‘The Virginian’, but John said that was shit.’
Things looked grim, but ever the peace maker, George quickly stepped up to the plate. ‘Gee guys,’ he proffered, ‘like, we’re a family and we’re camping. How about ‘The Camp Family
Creating the record, as is well documented, was far from easy, as they were constantly and incessantly interrupted by Ringo. ‘I like my beans with ketchup, George, how come we ain’t got no ketchup?’
‘Christ!’ exploded George, ‘Whatever we ain’t got, that’s what you want! I could live my life so easy if it wasn’t for you! What’s that you got there? Is it another mouse? Give it to me! I’m a throwin’ it into that there brush! I ain’t doing it for meanness, that mouse ain’t fresh!’
‘Tell me about the rabbits, George.’
John and Paul knew they were up against it. The first two tunes ‘No Ketchup on my Beans Blues’ and ‘Mouse Ain’t Coming Home’ were complete non starters musically speaking. But by an astounding stroke of luck, in the very next tent to theirs, was none other than Dolly Parton, Tammy Wynette and Willy Nelson. The rest, as they say, is history. If you want to know any more, look it up on Wikipaedia for Christ’s sake – if you have that after financial armageddon. Ahahahaha – look what we did to you, futurekind!
Released on the budget K Tel record label, ‘The Beatles are The Camp Family’ bombed, selling less well than the Buttoneer and Brushomatic. It was propping up the bargain bins in Woolworths in time for Christmas. Ironically it is now as rare as those two items – therefore we had to review another record entirely – which is:
THE BEATLES
BEATLES FOR SALE
THE MOST AUTUMNAL RECORD EVER! (Possibly)
Oh, the Beatles – you got to love them; I do. I read the other day that ‘Baby in Black’ was so closely harmonised that music publishers didn’t know whether to take one or the other as the guide vocal. Does that mean anything? Have you read ‘Revolution in the Head’? Noel Gallagher has. Clearly.
Here we go.
This is live. We just came in from the Charity Shield – Manchester City
No Reply
It’s a muffled start. Crap on the needle. Folk guitars – oh, I know this track so well. I wonder how many times? Bought this when I was 15. Still plays. Amazing, eh? You got to sing along. When you gave me no reply. Feel a bit drunk to be fair. John saw the light. This reminds me that I must replace the bulb on the landing. No reply. No reply.
Tell you what – it’s a melancholy listen, this. He’s a loser and ACTUALLY – who are we crying for, exactly? Well you CAN’T GO TO SEA ON A BOGIE! I told them and who listened?
Baby’s in Black
Well this is in six / eight time – folksy again. This LP is off the beaten egg. A bit like Johnny has been so long at the fair. How long will it take? As a piece of music, this is quite fabulous. Even under the influence of alcohol. Never review a Beatles LP – well I had to do it – but it’s quite simply awesome. How did they do it? Listen. Kids, we’re going to put it on again. Now, this means…taking the needle off the black record and moving it BACK a bit!! Yes – Jimmy – I’m talking to you. Remember, when, in class, I gave you a record, and you said to me, ‘But sir, how do you know where to put the needle on?’ OH – the youth of today. They’ve got something to say. Don’t listen. It’s usually a lie.
Rock n Roll Music
Cracking – just cracking. On a diet at the moment – I’m always on a diet being a bit fat . It’s a no carbohydrate diet. I wish I had some pork crackling. Very tasty. Pork rinds boiled in their own gravy and placed in a bag for your delectation. I’d eat that now, I really would. Bloody spaghetti is a bit carbohydrate. Being Italian has it’s drawbacks. You become dark, brooding and plump.
I’ll Follow The Sun
Wistful. Reminds me of my fifth ex wife. Wonder why no one ever stays with us?
Mr Moonlight
A bit crap, this one. My son complained about our next door neighbour, Shar*n having sex too loudly. Earlier today, I had said to him ‘Oh look, a gentleman caller for Sh*ron’ by way of an opening conversational gambit at breakfast – he being a bit of a tongue tied hobbledehoy and, at the age of 20, unable to speak without getting his tongue caught in the shag pile. So, as this gentleman walked down the path, I innocently pointed it out to break the icy silence at our table. You would have thought ‘Oh look a gentleman caller’ would be received with a nonplussed look of surprise. Wouldn’t you? ‘Oh look, a gentleman caller, for ‘*haron’ Not a bit of it! I was DISGUSTED! Oh my gravy! I was not prepared for his graphic descriptions of the twice nightly noises.
Never been there, never will either.
Eight Days a Week
Hmmm…any fool know there's only 7 – what’s that like, then?
Honey Don’t
Frequently heard in my bedroom at bedtime. But usually without the prefix ‘honey’. ‘Don’t’ often substituted with other similar words along the lines of ‘Get Off’, ‘F*ck Off’, ‘What’s That?’, ‘OOO that’s a big one’ (But I wasn’t in the master bedroom at the time), and ‘Leave that alone!’ etc etc.
Words of Love
OH! A-hahahaha. Like that would ever happen.
What You’re Doing
Good question, Sharo*. I have an innocent 20 year old son, who was put off by picking up some non specific complaint and NOW you keep him awake – twice nightly – with your ostentatious noises. What are YOU doing? And why don’t I ever hear anything?
Every Little Thing
A bit weedy this one, but you got to like Ringo’s fills on the kettle drums. Somebody once pointed at me, in the trouser area, and said something like the title of this song, a bit. I appreciated the sentiment in terms of honesty, but I can’t pretend it didn’t hurt.
I Don’t Want to Spoil The Party
Now actually I know where John is coming from on this song. I’ve (generally) always had a ‘drink or two’. Well more, really.
Everybody’s Trying To Be My Baby
Nobody’s trying to be MY baby, so stop complaining.
Bloody hell, reader, I’m twonked. But in the way of it – this is going up. Next week D. Wonder what D has to offer? Did we do C? Bugger. I hate Coldplay.
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