Although the measures he took might seem rather extreme, it’s no surprise that he was a perfectionist who was known to discard 95 percent of his initial material while establishing a theme for his next project, which would then take him a year to complete. This is especially noteworthy considering (unlike most writers) he refused any advances, preferring to receive payment only after his work was done.

Happily he would live a long life and publish 46 books, for which he’d receive enormous reward, iconic acclaim and eminent recognition that included: a Peabody Award, a Pulitzer Prize, two Emmy Awards, two Academy Awards and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Born in 1904, the son of a Springfield, Massachusetts brewer (until Prohibition) and   grandson of German immigrants, Theodor Geisel was a good student who went on to Dartmouth, where he rose to the rank of editor-in-chief of the collegiate humor magazine. Unfortunately when he and some friends were caught drinking gin in his room, the college dean (with the irresistible name of Craven Laycock) required him to resign from all extracurricular activities.  Since fish gotta’ swim and writer’s gotta’ write, he found it necessary to establish a nom de plume by using his middle (and his mother’s maiden) name, “Seuss”.

Although he experimented with other pseudonyms, upon graduation the young writer and illustrator began to publish whimsical articles and illustrations in a broad array of periodicals as “Dr. Seuss” …while building a national reputation in the world of advertising for his whimsical print-ads and slogans as Ted Geisel.

In 1937, while returning from Europe with his wife, the literary side of whimsy won out when Geisel became inspired by the rhythm of the ship’s engines and sketched out a poem that would become his first book.  Set on an actual street near his boyhood home in Springfield, the story was of a boy who dreams up an elaborate tale to tell his father, about all the outlandish things he sees while walking home from school.

Written and illustrated by Dr. Seuss, the manuscript was rejected by 43 publishing companies, and very nearly burned by it’s author, before it was finally published by Vanguard Press, with the now legendary title, “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street”… All of which leads us to this song, written more than 30 years later in 1970.

John Fogerty may have received flak from some (and credit from others) who were convinced that “Lookin’ Out My Back Door” with its “flying spoon” and dream-like imagery was laden with drug references, but he remains adamant that it was actually written for his three-year old son, Josh and directly inspired by a father-son reading of that career changing story by Dr. Seuss.

Included as a track on Creedence Clearwater Revival’s (fifth) album “Cosmo’s Factory,” the song swung its way up the Billboard Singles chart to reach a position that was strangely familiar to CCR, who never had a chart-topping hit.  Instead “Lookin’ Out My Back Door” reached Number 2, the same Billboard ranking achieved by “Proud Mary”, “Bad Moon Rising” (which topped the UK Chart), “Green River” and “Who’ll Stop the Rain”.

Although CCR broke up in 1972, Fogerty continues to perform this “Seussical Song” in concert, sometimes with the addition of a fiddle and occasionally with a rye tweak of the lyrics, from “tambourines and elephants” to “tangerines and Elvis.”

LISTEN TO THIS SONG – Friday 1 February 

Lookin’ Out My Back Door

 Just got home from Illinois

Lock the front door, oh boy!

Got to sit down, take a rest on the porch

Imagination sets in, pretty soon I’m singin’

Doo, Doo, Doo

Lookin’ out my back door

 There’s a giant doing cartwheels

A statue wearin’ high heels

Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn

A dinosaur Victrola listening to Buck Owens

Doo, Doo, Doo,

Lookin’ out my back door

 Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band

Won’t you take a ride on the flyin’ spoon?

Doo, Doo, Doo

A wondrous apparition provided by magician

Doo, Doo, Doo

Lookin’ out my back door

 Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band

Won’t you take a ride on the flyin’ spoon?

Doo, Doo, Doo

Bother me tomorrow, today I’ll find no sorrows

Doo, Doo, Doo

Lookin’ out my back door

 Forward troubles, Illinois

Lock the front door, oh boy!

Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn

Bother me tomorrow, today I’ll find no sorrows

Doo, Doo, Doo

Lookin’ out my back door

It has now been a year since certain litigious bullies in the neighborhood forced us to take a two-day “excursion” to the fifth floor (Land Court) of the Massachusetts Trial Courthouse in Boston. Technically the judgment was in our favor, if you can consider spending a couple semesters’ worth of college tuition to simply maintain the status quo as having anything to do with the word “favor.”

I first posted this song just prior to Day One, which we now remember for the risible performances displayed on the witness stand.  At the time, which certainly wasn’t a peak of magnanimity for me, I supposed that “Pink Moon” was based on some ancient notion about a harbinger of doom.  Good enough.

Some contend that the song refers to the first full moon in April, which the Iroquois called the “killing moon” while others retort that such usage was inconsistent with the songwriter’s frame of reference and that any symbolism Nick Drake employed would have been based on what he knew of Buddhism, Hinduism and the 17^th Century metaphysical poets and …If you’re like me you’re thinking that there are those with too much time on their hands.

What we do know is that “Pink Moon” is the title song from Nick Drake’s third and final album of the same name.  Released in 1972, towards the end of his short, rather melancholic life, it was recorded in a pair of two-hour sessions that each began at midnight in October of ’71.  Except for the title song, on which Drake used overdubbing to include piano, the record features only his vocals and guitar.

Perhaps it’s progress but I no longer hold that “Pink Moon” has ominous overtones.  Instead I agree with one pundit who notes that Drake was a notorious insomniac.  And who among us hasn’t experienced those barren, withering hours where no matter how much you wish it, sleep is not an option?

You play your guitar. Perhaps you read.  Perhaps you read about the new day’s waning moon. Eventually the nocturnal darkness subsides. Daylight inexorably bleeds over the sky. The moon takes on a pinkish hue.

You’re exhausted and yet still awake.  No use arguing with the dawn, no one stands that tall. There goes the night.  Here comes the sun.  Pink moon is on its way.

Although it took only a few hours to record, “mastering the mix” would have taken some time longer.  Apparently Drake was there.  Later on he left the finished tape on the main lobby desk of his record label (Island Records) without a mention to anyone. After someone noticed it days later, “Pink Moon” would be pressed into an album that would garner little attention upon its release, or even upon the weary young man’s death from overdose in 1974.

Famously, it would be decades before Nick Drake would become roundly hailed as one of the most influential artists of the last half-century.  And it will take even longer, perhaps for some to realize that the dawning of a new day is infinitely more powerful than any harbinger of doom.

LISTEN TO THIS SONG – Thursday 31 January

Nick Drake

Saw it written and I saw it say

Pink moon is on its way

And none of you stand so tall

Pink moon gonna’ get ye’ all

And it’s a pink moon

Yes, a pink moon

Pink, pink, pink, pink, pink moon

Pink, pink, pink, pink, pink moon

I saw it written and I saw it say

Pink moon is on its way

And none of you stand so tall

Pink moon gonna’ get ye’ all

And it’s a pink moon

Yes, a pink moon

I guess you could call that 1977 cross-country trip a learning experience and I’d best tread lightly when it comes to the two Bay Area sisters whose number I had scribbled down from a ride board in San Francisco.  Far better to mention the other traveler, a young Irishman working his way home to Dublin.

From him I learned that if you can manage to veer away from the interstate, a thick Irish brogue will always raise heads in a small town Irish bar.  Get there late enough and they’ll start buying drinks for you…and your friends.

Then there was the fellow’s fascination with this song, which he whistled and sang throughout the entire four days that I knew him.  Once back in Boston it didn’t take long for me to track down the source and lay my hands on a second-hand copy of “Striking It Rich” by Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks.

Released in 1972, and with an album cover that made it look like a giant matchbook, it was an easy record to find.  Designed by Dan himself, the record sleeve included an invitation to enter the “Dan Hicks Lookalike Contest,” which is generally not something one would aspire to win.  Although I think trying to look like the man (circa 1972) would be far easier to accomplish than trying to define the man’s music.

Imagine a multi-access traffic circle, or roundabout, that serves as the intersection of jazz, folk, swing, country, pop, bluegrass, cowboy, and gypsy music. That musician you see in the center there, would be Dan Hicks.  Born in Arkansas in 1941 he began life as an army brat, moving to wherever his father was stationed and finally settling in Northern California. Learning to play the drums as a child, he began playing with local dance bands at the age of 14.

After attending San Francisco State College, where he picked up the guitar, Hicks became a Bay Area folk fixture for a time, but as the music evolved so did he.  By 1968 he had formed the illustrious, but ever changing, Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks (with whom he still tours) and would soon gain his well deserved reputation as one of contemporary music’s true eccentrics.

As for that Irishman, I’ll bet he’s a Dan Hicks fan to this day, but I wonder if he knows that the song we all came to know by heart (thanks to him) was actually written by Johnny Mercer for the 1936 film, “Rhythm on the Range”.  Or that the star of that film, Bing Crosby, had a huge hit with it when he recorded it with the Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra.  Or that “I’m an Old Cowhand” is the song that is credited with cementing Johnny Mercer’s status as an “A-list” songwriter…Yippie yi yo kayah, indeed.

 LISTEN TO THAT SONG – Wednesday 30 January

I’m an Old Cowhand

 I’m an old cowhand from the Rio Grande

But my legs ain’t bowed and my cheeks ain’t tanned

I’m the cowboy who never saw a cow

Never roped a steer ’cause I don’t know how

And I sure ain’t fixin’ to start in now

Yippie yi yo kayah! Yippie yi yo kayah!

I’m an old cowhand from the Rio Grande

And I learned to ride before I learned to stand

I’m a ridin’ fool who is up to date

I know every trail in the Lone Star State

‘Cause I ride the range in my Ford V-8

Yippie yi yo kayah! Yippie yi yo kayah!

 I’m an old cowhand from the Rio Grande

And I come to town just to hear the band

I know all the songs that the cowboys know

‘Bout the Big Corral where the dogies go

‘Cause I learned them all on the radio

Yippie yi yo kayah! Yippie yi yo kayah!

Yippie yi yo kayah! Yippie yi yo kayah!

Back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, long before there was a DWP (Department for Work and Pensions) with its progressive Job Seekers Assistance scheme, there was the DHSS.  Fully named the Department for Health and Social Security, this was the British ministry responsible for the provision of unemployment benefits , aka “the dole.”

Although joining the dole queue down at your local Jobcentre was an unappealing proposition, it was regularly a necessary one.  So much so, in fact, that the application for signing-on became a veritable icon. Officially entitled DHSS Unemployment Benefit Form, 40, its more popular designation became legendary after the members of a Pop-Reggae group, whose members were all too familiar with the dole themselves, named their band…UB40.

At about the same time in a different part of the country, the lead guitarist of another burgeoning group (soon to be called) Katrina and the Waves wrote this song with the very same form in mind.  Although it failed to get much airplay when it was first released in 1982, it did gain a little recognition the following year, when it was re-released as the B-side of the group’s breakthrough hit, “Walking on Sunshine”

That’s when the members of yet another band, the LA-based Bangles, heard “Going Down to Liverpool” and decided to cover it on their 1984 debut album, “All Over the Place”.  At last the song made a dent in the UK charts, peaking at Number 79 in 1985.  But the American Billboard Charts remained impervious …and that would never change.

  LISTEN TO TODAY’S SELECTION – Tuesday 29 January

Fortunately for The Bangles an alternative musical showcase was just reaching its peak.  And it just so happened that one of lead-singer, Susanna Hoffs’ old college pals, Adam Nimoy, was able to convince his famous father (may he “live long and prosper”) to act the part of a man behind the wheel who is clearly “not a fan” and with highly illogical results ….

 Going down to Liverpool

Hey now

Where you going with that load of nothing in your hand

I said: Hey now

All through this green and pleasant land.

 I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

All the days of my life

All the days of my life

Hey there

Where you going with that UB40 in your hand

I said: Hey there

All through this green and pleasant land.

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

All the days of my life

All the days of my life.

 Hey now

Where you going with that UB40 in your hand

I said: Hey now

All through this green and pleasant land

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

I’m going down to Liverpool to do nothing

All the days of my life

All the days of my life

When you think about it, desks will come and desks will go.  Live and work long enough and they’ll have done so by the forgotten myriad.  And yet there are bound to be favorites where, all aesthetics aside, you become so engaged in what you do that you reach a centered “state of flow.”  Perhaps you’re at just such a desk now.

This interruption comes to you from my desk (basically an L shaped top with filing cabinets for drawers), that was custom-made for my last office, in the turret of our Victorian house in Melrose, Massachusetts.  When we moved to a new old-house, it was placed on the partially finished third-floor.  Although it hasn’t moved much since, it’s now in an office that was custom-made to fit the desk.

Yet my all time favorite was the “flow friendly” roll-top desk I had in college, which I bought third-or fourth-hand when I rented my first apartment, and later passed along to my brother after graduation. That was a desk worthy of a song and lo…

Just such a song was written and recorded by the late Harry Edward Nilsson III of Brooklyn, New York, a descendent of circus people who as a young man worked on bank computers at night, while pursuing a songwriting career by day, in an office (not too begrudglingly) provided by his record label.

Along with “Everybody’s Talkin’” (for which he won a Grammy) and “One” (as in the Loneliest Number), it was included as a track on his third album and Nilsson later conceded that “Good Old Desk” (with an acronym “G.O.D.”) was written with spiritual allusions very much in mind.

 LISTEN TO THIS SONG – Monday 28 January

It was 1968 and after he’d completed his studio stint (with a maverick reputation, Nilsson never performed live before a major audience), he flew to London at the blessed invitation of the Beatles.  And there he was very much surprised to meet some kindred spirits.

John Lennon, who admired his songwriting and incredible vocal range would become a close friend, as would Ringo, who later served as best man at his wedding.  But first they had to become acquainted.

To break the ice, Lennon, who had just been listening to Nilsson’s previous LP, played selections from “his band’s” upcoming “White Album”.  Nilsson then played a demo of his own upcoming record, “Aerial Ballet” which he had named after his grandparents’ circus act, and had nearly written in its entirety at his…

…Good Old Desk

 My old desk does an arabesque

In the morning when I first arrive

It’s a pleasure to see it’s waiting there for me

To keep my hopes alive

Such a comfort to know it’s got no place to go

It’s always there

It’s the one thing I’ve got, a huge success

My good, old desk

My old desk never needs a rest

And I’ve never once heard it cry

I’ve never seen it tease, it’s always there to please me

From nine to five

Such a comfort to know, it’s dependable and slow

But it’s always there

It’s the one friend I’ve got, a giant of all times

My good, old desk

 My old desk isn’t picturesque

But it’s happy as a desk can be

We never say a word, but it’s perfectly all right with me

For when my heart’s on the floor, I just open the drawer

Of my favorite guest

And what do I see? But a picture of me

Working at my good, old desk

Let’s see if we can get this straight. Written by Neil Simon and based on the Fellini film, “Nights of Cabiria,” it’s the musical that brought us “Big Spender” and “If My Friends Could See Me Now”. As a Broadway production (garnering 12 Tony nominations in 1966) it was choreographed and directed by Bob Fosse and it was a huge hit in the West End of London.

But when “Sweet Charity” was brought to the screen in 1969 (again with Fosse directing) it nearly sank Universal Pictures.  While the film cost $20 million to make, the box office only returned $4 million.

Be that as it may, the film had a great cast, with Shirley MacLaine, Chita Rivera, Stubby Kaye, Ricardo (“Corinthian leather”) Montalban, Ben Vereen and … Sammy Davis Jr. as Big Daddy Brubeck, “pastor” of The Rhythm of Life Church, coming to you from “down belooooow” the Manhattan Bridge.   Guess you could consider it a little hit within a big miss.

LISTEN TO THIS SELECTION – Sunday 27 January

The Rhythm of Life

Daddy started out in San Francisco,

Tootin’ on his trumpet loud and mean.

Suddenly a voice said, “Go forth, Daddy.

Spread the picture on a wider screen.”

And the voice said, “Daddy, there’s a million pigeons

Ready to be hooked on new religions.

Hit the road, Daddy. Leave your common-law wife.

Spread the religion of the rhythm of life.”

And the rhythm of life is a powerful beat,

Puts a tingle in your fingers and a tingle in your feet,

Rhythm in your bedroom, rhythm in the street,

Yes, the rhythm of life is a powerful beat.

To feel the rhythm of life,

To feel the powerful beat,

To feel the tingle in your fingers,

To feel the tingle in your feet.

Daddy spread the gospel in Milwaukee,

Took his walkie-talkie to Rocky Ridge,

Blew his way to Canton, then to Scranton,

Till he landed under the Manhattan Bridge.

Daddy was the new sensation, got himself a congregation,

Built up quite an operation down below.

With the pie-eyed piper blowing, while the muscatel was flowing,

All the cats were go, go, going down below.

Daddy was the new sensation, got himself a congregation,

Built up quite an operation down below.

With the pie-eyed piper blowing, while the muscatel was flowing,

All the cats were go, go, going down below.

 Flip your wings and fly to Daddy,

Flip your wings and fly to Daddy,

Flip your wings and fly to Daddy,

Fly, fly, fly to Daddy.

Take a dive and swim to Daddy,

Take a dive and swim to Daddy,

Take a dive and swim to Daddy,

Swim, swim, swim to Daddy.

Hit the floor and crawl to Daddy,

Hit the floor and crawl to Daddy,

Hit the floor and crawl to Daddy,

Crawl, crawl, crawl to Daddy.

 And the rhythm of life is a powerful beat,

Puts a tingle in your fingers and a tingle in your feet,

Rhythm in your bedroom, rhythm in the street,

Yes, the rhythm of life is a powerful beat.

 To feel the rhythm of life,

To feel the powerful beat,

To feel the tingle in your fingers,

To feel the tingle in your feet.

 To feel the rhythm of life,

To feel the powerful beat,

To feel the tingle in your fingers,

To feel the tingle in your feet.

Flip your wings and fly to Daddy,

Take a dive and swim to Daddy,

Hit the floor and crawl to Daddy,

Daddy we got the rhythm of life,

Of life, of life, of life.

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Man!

In 1934 twenty-two year old French violinist, Stéphane Grappelli and guitarist Django Reinhardt formed what has been described as “one of the most original bands in the history of recorded jazz,” Le Quintette du Hot Club de France.

Born in Belgium to a family of gypsies, twenty-four year old Reinhardt (his nickname “Django” is Romani for “awake”) was a virtuoso soloist and composer who invented an entirely new technique (sometimes called ‘hot’ jazz guitar) that has since become a living musical tradition within French gypsy culture.

When war broke out the quintet was on tour in the UK.  And while the unattached Grappelli remained, Reinhardt returned to Paris where his family lived, and ultimately reformed the group.

Unlike many gypsies who perished under the Nazi’s systematic murder of European Romanis, Reinhardt survived unscathed.  It has since come to light that he enjoyed the surreptitious (jazz was taboo) protection of Luftwaffe officer Dietrich Schulz-Köhn, aka “Doktor Jazz.” Sadly, Reinhardt would die from a brain hemorrhage just a few years later, at the age of 43.  Grappelli lived a long, incredibly harmonious life and was nearly 90 when he died in 1997.

Inarguably the quintessential Cole Porter standard (when Hollywood filmed his life story in 1946, it was entitled “Night and Day”), Porter was apparently inspired to write today’s song after hearing an Islamic call to worship in Morocco.  First featured onstage in the 1932 musical “Gay Divorce” it was introduced by Fred Astaire, whose recording became a chart topping hit.  Astaire memorably performed it again in the 1934 film version, which we know as “The Gay Divorcee” with that second ‘e’ added at the behest of the ever-vigilet Hays Office.

This rendition by the hot, hot Quintette du Hot Club de France was recorded in “the City of Light” in 1938…only months before it became very dark indeed.

 LISTEN TO THIS SELECTION – Saturday 26 January

Night and Day

 Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom

When the jungle shadows fall

Like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip, drip, drip of the rain drops

When the summer showers through

A voice within me keeps repeating

You, you, you

Night and day you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me or far it’s no matter darling

Where you are

I think of you

Day and night, night and day

Why is it so that this longing for you

Follows where ever I go

In the roaring traffic’s boom, in the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

Night and day, day and night

Under the hide of me, there’s an oh such a hungry yearning burning

Inside of me

And this torment wont be through

Till you let me spend my life making love to you

Day and night, night and day

Although this is only my 276^th Music Blog posting it actually represents my 609^th Daily Song posting.  That’s because I began sending these write-ups around to a group of friends via e-mail about a year before I began to post them on thisrightbrain.com

Although the Number 609 sounds like a rather random milestone, I believe it will maintain a mnemonic hold on me for the rest of my life, and it’s all on account of this song.

There are those (like me) who believe that Elton John and collaborator, Bernie Taupin reached their pinnacle in the early 1970s.  Certainly one their finest efforts was “Tumbleweed Connection”.  Released in October 1970, it was Elton’s second gold record, following its predecessor, the eponymous “Elton John” which was certified gold a month earlier, and preceding its successor, “Friends” which went gold a month later.

Released as the B-side single to “Your Song” (Elton’s first big hit), “Country Comfort” was also featured as a track on “Tumbleweed Connection” which is where I first heard and enjoyed it.  Who knew that recalling the lyrics to this song would come in handy nearly two decades later while living and working in Canada?

Although the odometer on my American-made Oldsmobile measured mileage, the expense reports that I would dutifully submit after each business trip specified kilometers. And since 1 mile = 1.609 kilometers, it wasn’t long before I began to sing this song to myself whenever an expense report was due.

As it so happens I traveled a lot that year, so much so that Deacon Lee, his sermon and that precisely timed train that goes roaring past the creek still make their presence known nearly every morning…when the clock hits 6:09.

 LISTEN TO TODAY’S SELECTION – Friday 25 January

Country Comfort

 Soon the pines will be falling everywhere

Village children fight each other for a share

And the 6:09 goes roaring past the creek

Deacon Lee prepares his sermon for next week.

I saw grandma yesterday down at the store

Well she’s really going fine for eighty-four

Well she asked me if sometime I’d fix her barn

Poor old girl she needs a hand to run the farm.

 And it’s good old country comfort in my bones

Just the sweetest sound my ears have ever known

Just an old-fashioned feeling fully-grown

Country comfort’s any truck that’s going home.

 Down at the well they’ve got a new machine

The foreman says it cuts manpower by fifteen

Yeah, but that ain’t natural, well so old Clay would say

He was a horse-drawn man until his dying day.

 And it’s good old country comfort in my bones

Just the sweetest sound my ears have ever known

Just an old-fashioned feeling fully-grown

Country comfort’s any truck that’s going back home.

Now the old fat goose is flying cross the sticks

The hedgehog’s done in clay between the bricks

And the rocking chair’s creaking on the porch

Across the valley moves the herdsman with his torch.

His early life reads like a Cameron Crowe story. Born in Heidelberg, Germany where his father was stationed in 1948, Clyde Jackson Brown moved with his family to the Highland Park district of Los Angeles at the age of three and began singing in local folk venues as a teen.

After graduating from high school in 1966 he moved to Greenwich Village and joined the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, which often opened for The Lovin’ Spoonful and later recorded a number of his songs. Browne also served as a staff writer for Elektra Records Publishing, and reported on music events around New York.

In ‘67/68 he backed Tim Buckley and the German-born, Nico (of “La Dolce Vita” and Velvet Underground fame), with whom he had a serious fling.  As a matter of fact he served as a major contributor on Nico’s debut album, “Chelsea Girl” and she was first to record “These Days”.

By 1969 Browne was back in California, continuing to write songs that were first recorded by others including: Tom Rush, Greg Allman, Linda Ronstadt, the Byrds and the Eagles.  It was his neighbor, Glenn Frey (of the Eagles) who added the famous second verse (ahem) about “standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona” for one such song (“Take it Easy”) and the City of Winslow went on to erect a life size bronze statue of “the event” on one of its street corners in commemoration.

But Jackson Browne, who early-on was self-conscious about his “unmannered” singing voice, didn’t record any of his own versions of these songs until 1971/72 when he released his eponymous debut album, which included this surprise hit single that peaked at Number 8 on the Billboard Chart.

He wouldn’t see another Top 10 again until 1982 when “Somebody’s Baby” hit Number 7.  That song, of course, was part of the soundtrack for “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” written by…Cameron Crowe.

 LISTEN TO THIS SELECTION – Thursday 24 January

Doctor, My Eyes

 Doctor, my eyes have seen the years

And the slow parade of fears without crying

Now I want to understand

I have done all that I could

To see the evil and the good without hiding

You must help me if you can

 Doctor, my eyes, tell me what is wrong

Was I unwise to leave them open for so long

 ‘Cause I have wandered through this world

And as each moment has unfurled

I’ve been waiting to awaken from these dreams

People go just where they will

I never noticed them until I got this feeling

That it’s later than it seems

 Doctor, my eyes, tell me what you see

I hear their cries, just say if it’s too late for me

Doctor, my eyes, cannot see the sky

Is this the price for having learned how not to cry

It’s supposed to drop to zero d’d’d’d’d degrees Fahrenheit here in Eastern Massachusetts (I’ll be sure to bundle up for my scheduled morning walk) and never mind the wind-chill.  It’s a day perfectly suited for a song such as this.

Perhaps you recall that Alan Price helped to form The Animals back in 1962, and left the band in ’65 to form the Alan Price Set. One of his claims to fame was introducing British listeners to the songs of Randy Newman and Georgie Fame, among others.  Another was his ability to write some memorable film scores, particularly that of  “O Lucky Man!”

I once saw him at a summer music festival in Battersea Park (within sight of my flat) and can still picture his convincing rendition of this Sonny Rollins tune.  Wonder how much more conv’v’v’v’vincing he’d be today.

 LISTEN TO TODAY’S SELECTION – Wednesday 23 January

Don’t Stop The Carnival 

 No, don’t stop the carnival

No, don’t stop the carnival

You’ll never find a better way

No, don’t stop the carnival

Let us sing the night and day away

No, don’t stop the carnival

Sunshine I’m only dreaming

Sunshine I’m only dreaming

 You’ll never find a better way

No, don’t stop the carnival

Let us sing the night and day away

No, don’t stop the carnival

Sunshine I’m only dreaming

Sunshine I’m only dreaming

But this is England on a winter’s afternoon

There is no sun, there’s just a pale and tired moon

And shivering sparrows on the smoking chimney tops

And all the children suffer from cold and flu and raindrops

 No, don’t stop the carnival

No, don’t stop the carnival

You’ll never find a better way

No, don’t stop the carnival

Let us sing the night and day away

No, don’t stop the carnival

Sunshine I’m only dreaming

Sunshine I’m only dreaming

d’d’d’d’d’d’ I’m only dreaming

d’d’d’d’d’d’ I’m only dreaming