If it’s Friday, it must be Drunken Vinyls
Last week on Drunken Vinyls we discovered that Darwin England , Oh England
At Drunken Vinyls, we often indulge in soul searching. I have, for some time, been trying to locate a Jimmy Ruffin single with no success. My mate is also looking for ‘Move On Up’ by Curtis Mayfield. And it is a well documented fact that Dexy’s Midnight Runners have been searching for the young soul rebels for quite some time.
And we are not alone. Going back to the Conservative Party, David Cameron himself told me that he was fed up after the week we’ve just had what with riots and all that. ‘I can’t find Shaft by that bloke that wrote ‘Theme from Shaft’,’ he complained, bitterly, over a glass of Lambrini.
They tell me that rioters are being handed out sentences that are too severe. This makes me think that if I was bothered I could write some jokes about long sentences or sentences with some rude or challenging words in them such as, in a camp way, ‘OOO get you, you’re a very naughty boy, take THIS sentence, it’s got three non sequitors in it and a gerund,’ but, quite frankly, I’m not arch enough or camp. No really, I’m not.
So it goes. Join us now for our serious historical attempt to review all vinyl releases in the world ever since 1955, starting at A and ending at Z. The rules are simple so here’s Darwin himself to explain it to you.
DARWIN HIMSELF AT OURS
‘Ello my leetle petit pois. Bienvenue a vinyls de soulard. Nous somme la plage. Ou est la plage? Ah, oui, la plage c’set viola. La vinyls ils sont soulard aussi. Mais – ils important pour la jeudi. NON! NON! Jeudi, c’est maintenant ici MECHANT! Mechant petit fils et filles NON JEUDI!
To be fair, I think Darwin Darwin
Hello, you lovely future-kind, take this message that I give you, take it sonny and hold it high. Believe every word you are about to read, for tonight, we give you, the old clapper himself, the big dong, Eric Clapton!
C
ERIC CLAPTON
Old Clappers or ‘The Dong’ as he was wont to be known, had originally conceived the record being reviewed tonight as one in a series of concept albums – now a swear word in musical circles – starting at number 1 Ocean Boulevard and finishing at the end of the street with number 596 Ocean Boulevard. The concept itself was staggeringly original yet succinct in its freshness. He and his mates, Bonnie, Delaney, Ginger Baker and Keith Chegwin out of Swap Shop, would kip for the night in each house and write a quick LP to be put out the next day.
However it was not to be. There were two main problems – the first being that no one liked the look of number 23 Ocean Boulevard
A mystery that was quickly solved when, at the sessions for 2 Ocean Boulevard 461 Ocean Boulevard
It was a disaster. Clappers was beside himself with fury and the appearance of Noel Edmonds waving a cuddly purple dinosaur or Maggie Philbin in her jodhpurs didn’t help matters, neither. Even John Craven was unable to placate the apoplectic musician. ‘You Egg!’ screamed Eric, to Chegwin, ‘Young fry of treachery!’ - and I’m afraid even I can’t repeat what was said to poor Noel: a bit like ‘Cearded Bunt’ but rearranged a little. In front of all those viewers too. Later, when it had all calmed down, it turned out that Bonnie had tried to get Keith Moon from the Keith dictionary of Keiths but had misread the number. It could have been worse. Just beneath Chegwin was Keith Harris and Orville.
So we are left with one out of a planned 595 albums. And the number of that one is: 461. 461 Ocean Boulevard
We give you 461 Ocean Boulevard
Motherless Children
It starts with a furious guitar riff – or the approximation of one as arranged for stylophone and tin trumpet. I remember this was used in Not the Nine O Clock News, and Rowan walks into a lamppost. I used to play bass guitar for the Royal Navy and it was no picnic, slapping a bass and marching whilst towing a massive speaker behind you on roller skate wheels. I learnt my technique from able seaman Mark King who later went on to form the moderately successful Level 42. He was rubbish on the upper deck and couldn’t tie a bowline or throw a heaving line, neither. Let’s crack another tinnie.
Give Me Strength
This reminds me that I used to weight lift for the Royal Navy, which, ironically took some strength. So here comes that blues guitar. It sounds blessedly lovely on the vinyl – you can hear every nuance. Gospel. Lord give me strength because I’ve done so much wrong. And who can’t empathise with these sentiments? This sounds great with a couple of lagers.
Willie and the Hand Jive
A not very subtle knob gag, obviously. What were you thinking Eric? Lowest common denominator. We are disgusted.
Get Ready
I went for a pee when this was on – but it seemed reasonably nice. The flush of the toilet drowned out the chorus. Drowned out. Geddit? Oh well, please yourself. I commend it. A sort of choppy bass, slightly reggae. Maybe it should have been ‘Get Reggae’. Then some gel – probably Bonnie or Delaney came on and spoilt it. A bit.
I Shot the Sheriff
Now – I didn’t used to shoot the sheriff in the Royal Navy but I would have been ready so to do, had her majesty come up to me and said, ‘Drunken, we need some sheriffs shot now.’ But that never happened. What a wailing noise, though. I shot the sheriff but I failed to shoot the deputy. If you were in your home town being tracked down – WHY THE HELL WOULDN’T YOU MOVE? Hah! Stupid song, this. No sense. I tell you what, though, we wouldn’t be in a recession if the guy what shot the sheriff moved to avoid being hanged because Barret Homes would be doing very nicely thank you. What a nitwit. I shot the sheriff so now I’m going to hang around and plant some seeds. We need less people like this in bloody England
Can’t Hold Out Much Longer
An inauspicious start to Side 2. Not good. This one seems to be about his kids or something – he can’t hold on to them. Probably he’s a bit divorced and his kids want to go to Paignton Zoo but he’s been taken to the cleaners by his ex missus and can’t afford it. Shame really. I don’t care what they say, Paignton Zoo is a GOOD day out.
I miss the Man from Barrett in his helicopter. And snuff tins in the road. And Aztec bars.
Please Be With Me
Oh this is lovely – this is why we love this record, eh kids? The thing about vinyl is you can hear the top, the bottom and the instruments are in every different corner of the room. Oh the innocence of it all. We’ve lost it all. The needles got fluff on it and will have to be cleaned – but doesn’t that add to the charm?
Let it Grow
Two roads diverged in yellow wood. I shall be telling this with a sigh. Somewhere ages and ages hence. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference.
Well what more is there, absolute classic.
Steady Rollin’ Man
Last night I went to a disco – my friends were there BUT they wanted me to dance. 'No Julia, no! Julia, I would be like your embarrassing father at the wedding. Don't you remember how that is? Oh the knuckle biting! Oh the shame!' But she tells me that she has no daddy. No daddy? I was choked so I told her that I'd be her daddy. 'Let ME be your daddy,' says I. She spent the rest of the evening whispering to her friends and pointing at me. I left shortly after that. I could have taken her to Paignton Zoo, too.
Mainline Florida
Now hear this, future kind. A good LP lasts 40 minutes and is programmed perfectly to build to a crescendo on each side by the artist. It has two sides and both are expertly devised like a work of art which is why vinyl is so important and why IPODS and BLACKBERRIES have betrayed a generation of kids. If we live in an instant world where nothing is real, everything is transient, then what price the future? People tell me that they don’t have a collection of vinyl because it is bulky. Takes up room. So HEAVY.
Oh boy. You’re going to carry that weight. Carry that weight. Carry that weight. A long time.
See you next week for more Drunken Vinyls. Sometimes Good, Sometimes Bad. Sometimes happy. Sometimes sad.
Still, we love you all.
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