Three songs I hate: Bohemian Rhapsody, I’m not in love (10cc), If you leave me now (Chicago). They all suffer from chronic radio overkill ‘back in the day’. And however good the most iconic of Queen songs is, and it really really is, it just got tired after 226 airings a day. For 3 months. It spread faster than coronavirus and for (hopefully) twice as long. The other two were played to death too and lacked the ‘that’s interesting’ factor of the Queen hit. And they were slushy. Nauseatingly, sickly, sacchariney, broken-heartedly slushy. Gimme a fuckin’ break.

Yet before you think me an some heartless, un-romantic love-a-phobe, or someone so mired in ‘his’ own musical genre(s) that there’s no consideration for anything outside my own narrow criteria, let me dispel that theory with three words: I love Jolene.

There, I’ve said it. Broken the taboo. Come out the closet. Crossed the line. Credibility shot to shit. Not only did I love, and still do, a country and western song, I loved a country and western song about a broken-hearted woman. Ok, its one of the few Nashville offerings in which a dog doesn’t die but otherwise, it ticks all the good ole boy, yeee-haaaw, confederate flag-waving bollocks that they all have in common. But it gets worse. I love Miley Cirus version in the ‘backyard sessions’. I even love the Petersons bluegrass take on Dolly’s finest.

And whilst I’m in the confessional, I have sinned further. I love a love song. Obviously not all, some are just bollocks, but others send shivers down everywhere. Anything by Adele. Most things by Whitney Houston. I believe (when I fall in love) by Stevie Wonder. And possibly best of all, Alison by Elvis Costello. I know this world is killing you. Holy shit. Let me just mop my keyboard before continuing. And I used the photo of that very album today as an homage to one of my all time favourite composer/performers. And possibly the album of his that I love the most. His first, obvs. Though Punch the Clock has such a host of memories attached to it that it too ranks very high on any list I may choose to make.

Yet a ‘perfect album’ is one in which every single track is a wonderful. You never have to fast forward/skip. You just leave and wallow. Combat Rock by the Clash. Cafe Bleu by Style Council. Hunky Dory. Even (and this is both well obscure and approved by the brother) Split by the Groundhogs. The Beatles White album. Sargent Peppers. Blood on the Tracks. And Little Creatures by the Talking Heads because it spoke to me when David Byrne had a little baby, and so did I. Reluctantly I’d have to add either of Oasis’ first 2 albums, the ‘reluctant’ because they’re such horrible people. And the soundtrack from the Sound of Music.

Joking about the last one. Honestly. I for one wanted the Nazis to gun Julie Andrews down as she gambolled across those fucking hills. I willed it to happen. More disappointment.

Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything.

Happy Saturday. Don’t feel like a Saturday, but trust me.

A xxxx