45 years ago this happened
or maybe this…
45 years ago this happened
or maybe this…
I saw A Private Function when it was released in 1984 – I wasn’t a vegetarian then, that happened five or six years later. I haven’t seen it since, it seems odd that a film I’m sure I enjoyed didn’t ever inspire me to re-watch. We watched it on Wednesday night and I thoroughly enjoyed it – it was sweet, and subtly funny, and wonderfully acted by a fine cast of heavyweights. It was, however a film about butchering a pig, and (spoiler after the clip)…
… it doesn’t have a happy ending for Betty, the pig.
I never slept well last night, and the passing of Pete Seeger kept drifting in and out of my head, the following thoughts occurred to me.
If there’s an afterlife it’s going to have a lot more singing in it now – I love the way Pete always made the song the star of a performance, and encouraged everyone to sing along.
When someone has a full life and dies at a ripe old age I’m inclined to feel that rather than mourning, we should be celebrating… but that doesn’t apply for Pete Seeger – a world without Pete Seeger is a very much diminished one, we should be mourning for a world that has to get on without him.
We should all rest a little less peacefully without Pete Seeger to be a champion of song and people.
This afternoon I read the transcript of Pete’s appearance before the HUAC in 1955 – in which he deals with incredible dignity an outrageous grilling – this made me smile… I assume he actually sang the last line – which makes it beautiful and funny and remarkable.
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before. Of course, I would be curious to know what you think of a song like this very great Negro spiritual, “I’m Gonna Lay Down My Sword and Shield, Down by the Riverside.”
MR. TAVENNER: That is not at all responsive to my question.
Dean Wareham has a new Tumblr where he’s posting a “song of the week”, this weeks song is Eric Bolgle’s And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda as performed by The Bushwackers.
This song has been covered by Shane McGowan, Joan Baez, and many others but the Bushwackers do the definitive version.
It may be definitive, but I’d take The Pogues version over it. The Bushwacker’s version is beautiful and sad but The Pogues version adds a healthy dose of anger and it certainly affects me more because of it – although maybe the familiarity affects me.
The Pogues – And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
I saw The Pogues a stack of times in the mid/late 80s and live it was even more moving, and not in any way made less powerful by the drunken rowdiness of crowd and band
a heavy rock tour de force that captured the band at what many fans now regard as their peak
That is utter nonsense, the album is a chunky and unsubtle and has no feeling of authenticity. Shame. I never saw Slade until their post-Reading ’80 re-birth and even then they were a fun live act… you wouldn’t know it from Alive Vol, 2.
Also, the album sleeve was awful, which is why I chose not to use it above!
Here’s Slade in 1971
Dad had a few albums by The Weavers and a couple of Pete Seeger LPs so I knew the great man, but only ever listened to him when Billy Bragg sent me back there in the early 80s.
One album we did have was Waist Deep in the Big Muddy.
Before the Buster Keaton films on Saturday we walked around Pimlico and Westminster. I seem to feel the cold more these days than I used to, how old does that make me seem, so I’m quite looking forward to spring and the weather warming. But one of the things I love most about winter is the bare trees which always look great, and let you see what’s in them, and what’s beyond them.
Wild Winter Trees – Amor de Días
Last night at the NFT we saw two of the greatest of all films on one bill. One Week has everything that makes a great Buster Keaton film all squished into a 20 minute short. It is probably the most perfect film ever made because it does so much in it’s short running time and yet nothing ever seems rushed or crow-barred in.
One Week (1920)
The General (1926) might be even better, but only because it’s longer!
Julie Covington is not the sort of singer I usually find myself liking, but she keeps turning up. She’s so not what I should love… she sings far too… well, and I don’t often tolerate that – but the songs in Rock Follies were just so hilariously [awful/brilliant/strange] that it needed someone to stop them from being unbearable, and invariably it was Julie who did that. Also she was the coolest looking (until the perm in the second series anyway). And this from her 1971 solo album The Beautiful Changes is rather gorgeous…
The Magic Wasn’t There (1971)
Only Women Bleed (1978)
Rock Follies – On The Road (1976)
With Phil Lynott and Richard Burton from Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds (1978)
Oh go on then…
Don’t Cry For Me Argentina (1976)
In 1978, when Saturday Night Fever arrived in the UK, I was 14. In May 1978, for my 14th birthday I was given a record player for my bedroom and a few records, The Story of The Who, Harvest by Neil Young, and a couple of Rock ‘n’ Roll compilations. This was the direction I was moving in and Saturday Night Fever was the other direction, that was the road my brother took. Music needed to be partisan, particularly when you’re 14, and that meant I had no time for The Bee Gees falsetto harmonies and music that was designed to make you dance. I didn’t dance. I still don’t.
Saturday Night Fever, the film, received an X certificate which means I never got to see it then, and have actually never seen it. The music however is of course ridiculously familiar, partly because of my brother having and playing the record (I shared a bedroom with him – it was hard to avoid hearing it), and partly because of its ubiquity. And, now that I’m grown up, I’m happy to concede that it’s not that bad – and in places rather good. There’s some laughable nonsense – notably the disco “classics” A Fifth of Beethoven and Night on Disco Mountain – but even that seemed oddly appropriate. But for all that it sounds like music that was made for someone else.