Elvis Presley/Joe Turner – Shake Rattle and Roll – Lyrics of a blatantly sexual theme.

Elvis Presley/Joe Turner – Shake Rattle and Roll – Lyrics of a blatantly sexual theme.

When Elvis wiggled his hips he knew exactly what he was doing.

Elvis wasn’t the polite innocent he pretended to be. His act was pure sex. He chose to cover songs like Shake Rattle and Roll with their overt sexuality knowing exactly what they were about. Elvis was sex on wheels.

It was no wonder that the repressed prudish post-war generation were so up in arms, Elvis brought in a wave of liberalism and non-conformity that swept away all the grey fifties and heralded the rebellion of the sixties.

Black musicians like Joe Turner were already singing about sex and having a wail of a time. It was the white culture that needed to catch up. But the record company was a bit slow. They insisted he clean up the lyrics a bit. They didn’t like  – Way you wear those dresses The sun comes shinin’ through  I can’t believe my eyes  All that mess belongs to you. They seemed to think there were sexual connotations.

There were.

Elvis opened the flood gate.

Shake Rattle and Roll

Get outta that bed
Wash your face and hands
Get outta that bed
Wash your face and hands
Well, you get in that kitchen
Make some noise with the pots and pans

Way you wear those dresses
The sun comes shinin’ through
Way you wear those dresses
The sun comes shinin’ through
I can’t believe my eyes
All that mess belongs to you

I believe to the soul
You’re the devil and now I know
I believe to the soul
You’re the devil and now I know
Well, the more I work
The faster my money goes

I said shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Well, you won’t do right
To save your doggone soul

Yeah, blow, Joe

I’m like a one-eyed cat
Peepin’ in a seafood store
I’m like a one-eyed cat
Peepin’ in a seafood store
Well, I can look at you
Till you ain’t no child no more

Ah, shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Well, you won’t do right
Yo save your doggone soul

I get over the hill
And way down underneath
I get over the hill
And way down underneath
You make me roll my eyes
Even make me grit my teeth

I said shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Shake, rattle and roll
Well, you won’t do nothin’
To save your doggone soul

Shake, rattle and roll

Time to terminate Faith Schools and Madrassas!

Time to terminate Faith Schools and Madrassas!

Following David Cameron’s speech regarding the reason so many of our Muslim youth are turning to extreme, barbaric, violent ideology it is wise to look at the ways of solving the problem.

One of the main reasons identified for the turning to extremism was the lack of integration into British society and culture. Many Muslims felt excluded, threatened and marginalised. They did not know, accept or value the British values of tolerance, freedom and democracy. They felt themselves to be outsiders.

There is also the problem of indoctrination at a young age. Once an ideology is introduced at an age prior to the mind being able to assess its validity it is assimilated without being processed. This evil of indoctrination is pernicious.

Part of the answer is simple: shut the Faith Schools and Madrassas. We need our children growing up together with respect, tolerance and empathy. We need a shared set of values that goes across all faiths, races and creeds. We all need to buy in to the shared culture and contribute to its enrichment. We need inclusivity.

What we do not need is separation, isolation, differing values, and indoctrination.

If people are British they should be integrated. If they reject British values perhaps they should not be here. For Muslim children to be taken off after school to be indoctrinated is wrong. For Faith schools, including Hindu, Catholic and Protestant, to preach their ‘brand’ of religion to children too young to think is child abuse. It is as bad as the Creationists peddling their propaganda and distorted views to children.

Religion in schools is simply wrong!

Indoctrinating children is child abuse!

Education is a big part in the creation of shared values, integration, self-esteem, empathy, respect, thinking, civilised behaviour and a wider perspective. The evil suppression, misogyny, violence and barbaric intolerance of ISIS needs countering with a superior view of a harmonious, tolerant world.

Education builds a better zeitgeist.

I simply do not agree with the ridiculous idea that religion is somehow related to morally. I think ISIL, the Crusades, Inquisition, Pogroms and witch burning, to name a few of the atrocities carried out in the name of religion,  put pay to any attempt to equate religion with morality.

Poetry – Communication – a poem to the expansion of minds that takes place when we talk and listen to each other.

Poetry – Communication – a poem to the expansion of minds that takes place when we talk and listen to each other.

There is nothing better than a debate, discussion and argument between friends as we pierce the truth of all we know.
For only in the sharing, thinking through and weighing up can we hope to grow.
Our minds illuminate the truths that grow inside our heads as our brains are stimulated by the concepts of others. Ideas and thoughts chase each other and, like pinballs, they collide and spark new, exciting answers.
Talk is the nourishment of the neurones. It gives birth to new delights.
Communication
Communicate with me
For that is how we grow.
Open your mind
For me to see
And delight
In what we find.

Share your thoughts
And hear mine
And we will nod our heads
As we ponder
Upon the truths
Of what we both have said.

Opher 3.7.2015

Why do I Write?

Why do I Write?

 

Why do I write?

 

That is a question a lot of people ask me and it is one I often ask myself.

 

Writing is a lonely, sedentary task. It is time consuming, frustrating and unrewarding in many ways.

It was Paul Simon who wrote ‘All my words come back to me – in shades of mediocrity – like emptiness in harmony’.  That about sums it up.

 

I am not the next John Fowles. I did not study English Literature. Why do I think I can write?

 

I write because I know I can articulate the contents of my mind into words that will resonate with my readers. I know I can and sometimes I do.

 

I write because I have a head that is full of passions, ideas, thoughts, opinions and stories and I have a burning need to write them down. I enjoy writing as much as I do reading – and I love reading.

 

I am not religious. I do not believe in any god or afterlife; I do not believe there is an ultimate purpose. I believe we have to give life a purpose. We have to strive to make the world a better place. Writing does that for me.

 

I love nature and am destroyed by what we are doing to the planet. It eats me up.

I write about the things that mean something to me. I am a communicator who is an idealist; I believe we can make things better.

 

I write because I believe in creativity. Creating something beautiful or passionate gives purpose and fulfilment. My books contain the wonder in my head.

 

I write because it is difficult. Writing a novel is like climbing Everest. It is so hard that it leaves you with a sense of fulfilment when you’ve achieved it. I’ve climbed a lot of mountains.

 

I write because I am a rebel who wants to change the system. I want to change it because it stinks. I think we can do better.

 

I write about my passions.

 

There are no rules. I like to push the limits in every way going. My books are different. They are sometimes extreme.

 

I write for fun.

 

I have written 49 books and published twenty four. Twenty two are available on Amazon. They are my babies. They will live longer than me.

 

I dread to think how many hours I have sat in the dark typing on an old type-writer or pounding the keyboard on my various computers. How much of my life? How many tens of thousands of hours?

A book would take me a couple of thousand hours. I done rewrite after rewrite.

 

So far I have earned around £700 for all those efforts. I make about a dollar a book. It’s not a great return. If it was about the money I could have worked in a filling-station and bought a house!

 

It’s not about the recognition. You write into a relentless vacuum.

 

It is sometimes the most discouraging, pointless, lonely task in the world. Sometimes I read what I have written and despair.

 

But I’m still writing!

Poetry – Incandescent Days – a poem for life on planet Earth.

Poetry – Incandescent Days – a poem for life on planet Earth.

This planet revolves around the sun. In man’s earliest days it was a thing of wonder, bringing light, heat and life. It had to be a God and was worshipped. The beliefs were that the rituals could unlock and control the powers it possessed.

Our ancestors were wrong but even so the sun was the giver of all life.

The sun’s heat was sufficient to melt ice and liberate vapour. Water is the medium of all living things. None can live without it.

The sun’s light caused photosynthesis to produce the oxygen we breathe and liberate our thoughts. With the energy it donated to us we dissected its secrets and learnt that it was no god and our powers could not touch it.

Life is change. With each day our bodies transform from egg and sperm to death. In millennia we evolve. And the sun itself must change. The giver of life will one day turn destroyer but its passing may produce life for others to evolve on distant worlds. For we are the stuff of exploding stars.

Incandescent Days

Incandescent days beneath a nuclear globe

Worshipped from days long gone

Creating green explosions on the crust.

No gods to implore but iron to rust

And chemistry to leave within the dust.

 

Hydrogen to helium

And energy to burn

Upon the mantle of our shelf

As quarks are rearranged

To radiate through space

And illuminate ourselves.

 

Excited electrons create the air

As pigments dance in ecstasy

To where

They are passed to the chemistry

That dares

To change its state.

For change is the law

And all our fate.

 

Opher 3.7.2015

Neil Young – Rockin’ in the Free World – lyrics about social inequality, homelessness, drug addiction and the damage to society and children.

Neil Young – Rockin’ in the Free World – lyrics about social inequality, homelessness, drug addiction and the damage to society and children.

 

Inequality is the basis behind most of the world’s problems. The division between the have’s and have-nots is immense. The judgement of a good civilised country is how it treats its underprivileged, needy and disabled.

I was shocked by what I saw in America and what I see in Britain. There is a heartlessness in many people’s actions; they seem to believe that the homeless and down-and-outs deserve all they get. They should have worked harder at school, achieved higher qualifications, got themselves a job.

I am not referring to the hapless free-loaders. There are the scroungers who need to be made to contribute.

Before making judgements people should listen to the stories of the people concerned. There are many sad tales of neglect, abuse and disaster. Many are traumatised and unable to function.

There but for fortune.

The worth of a society is its benevolence. It seems that the greatest nations on Earth are content to have people living rough and scratching round dust-bins for food – as if they were vermin.

I think that is an indictment on those nations. It is cold, heartless and uncaring. We should be better than that.

The children brought up in the degradation created by poverty, desperation, prostitution and drugs will grow up to have a blighted life. It needs addressing and we are rich enough nations to address the issues properly. There is far too much greed and selfishness.

Neil Young highlighted the problems in this song. The ‘Free World’ should set an example and show the world how compassion is done!

“Rockin’ In The Free World”

There’s colors on the street
Red, white and blue
People shufflin’ their feet
People sleepin’ in their shoes
But there’s a warnin’ sign
on the road ahead
There’s a lot of people sayin’
we’d be better off dead
Don’t feel like Satan,
but I am to them
So I try to forget it,
any way I can.Keep on rockin’ in the free world,
Keep on rockin’ in the free world
Keep on rockin’ in the free world,
Keep on rockin’ in the free world.I see a woman in the night
With a baby in her hand
Under an old street light
Near a garbage can
Now she puts the kid away,
and she’s gone to get a hit
She hates her life,
and what she’s done to it
There’s one more kid
that will never go to school
Never get to fall in love,
never get to be cool.

Keep on rockin’ in the free world,
Keep on rockin’ in the free world
Keep on rockin’ in the free world,
Keep on rockin’ in the free world.

We got a thousand points of light
For the homeless man
We got a kinder, gentler,
Machine gun hand
We got department stores
and toilet paper
Got styrofoam boxes
for the ozone layer
Got a man of the people,
says keep hope alive
Got fuel to burn,
got roads to drive.

Keep on rockin’ in the free world,
Keep on rockin’ in the free world
Keep on rockin’ in the free world,
Keep on rockin’ in the free world.

Rock Music Genres – The British Blues Beat Groups of the early 60s – The Rolling Stones, Yardbirds, Them, Pretty Things, Downliners Sect and Animals.

Rock Music Genres – The British Blues Beat Groups of the early 60s – The Rolling Stones, Yardbirds, Them, Pretty Things, Downliners Sect and Animals.

DownlinersSect1

The British Beat Group Blues boom – 1964

Hard on the heels of Merseybeat came the first British Blues boom in the form of the sixties beat groups. They were led by the Rolling Stones but closely followed by the Animals, Pretty Things, Yardbirds, Downliners Sect, Manfred Mann, Bo St Runners, Kinks and Them.

The real pioneers of this Blues boom were Alexis Korner’s Blues Incorporated, Graham Bond and Zoot Money. But, while being seminal, they did not receive the commercial success of their compatriots.

The blues set, of which I was one, were a little snooty when it came to the blues. We saw it as superior to the Pop and Rock of the day. It seemed raw, earthy and authentic, not produced as a product by the record companies. This was genuine music from the heart, or at least the genitals. It spoke of real life and not soppy love, and teenage crap. You could wander about looking incredible serious and intellectual clutching your Sleepy John Estes and Elmore James albums. It was all very cliquey. And this was precisely how many of these bands came together. They were passionate aficionados. To us blues wasn’t just a music form; it was a crusade. We loved it and we loved those old black guys from the depths of Mississippi, Texas and Louisiana. It was an exclusive club.

In the Art Colleges all over the country various passionate blues musicians got together to swap their precious collections of coveted albums, learn licks, exchange tales and learn how to imitate their idols. They didn’t do it quite the same. They speeded it up a bit, added a bit of a rave up, but in general were remarkably true to the music of their heroes. They might have wanted to make the big time but it was more important to be true to the music, do it justice and win the respect of your fellow musicians. In the process it created a great club scene and a lot of followers. The blues was cool.

From the Deep South of the Thames Delta we had the Rolling Stones and Yardbirds fighting it out for supremacy in Richmond and the Kinks and Pretty Things battling with the Downliners Sect. From the swamps and levees of Newcastle we had the Animals and from the plantations of Ireland we had Them. Almost overnight the blues was the biggest thing going and the kids were all dancing to the music of black southern America.

The catalogues of Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Jimmy Reed, Robert Johnson, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry and John Lee Hooker were plundered.

The Stones nearly hit with their first single – a cover of Chuck Berry’s ‘Come On’ and then had theit first top ten hit with a song given to them by the Beatles. After that it was all systems go. They actually got to number one with an extremely authentic version of Howlin’ Wolf’s ‘Little Red Rooster’. Their first two albums were stuffed with blues covers. Likewise the Kinks first album was full of Swamp Blues. Them hit the charts with ‘Baby Please Don’t Go’. There were covers of ‘Dimples’, ‘Got My Mojo Working’, ‘I’m a Lover not a Fighter’, ‘Got Love if You Want It’, ‘Good Morning Little Schoolgirl’, ‘Hoochie Coochie Man’, ‘I Just Want to Make Love to You’, ‘I Ain’t Got You’, ‘Cadillac’, ‘Honest I Do’, ‘I’m a Man’, ‘I’m Mad Again’, ‘I Wish You Would’, ‘Smokestack Lightnin’’, Mona (I Need You Baby)’, ‘Too Much Monkey Business’, ‘Around and Round’, ‘Bo Diddley’, ‘You Can’t Judge a Book’, ‘You Can’t Catch Me’, ‘Boom Boom’, and a dozen more. The blues was selling to white kids. They were in the playground discussing blues harp, slide guitar and square guitars. The exclusive club had opened right up.

This in turn paved the way for the blues guys to come back over from America. Middle-aged blues guys like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Sonny Boy Williamson and John Lee Hooker received rapturous receptions from young white kids while mini-skirted white girls danced to their rhythm. They must have been amaqzed. It was a million miles away from the sweaty Chicago clubs.

The Press had a field day. They pitted the long-haired, scruffy blues bands against the smart suited Mersey bands. There were the lovable mop-tops and the obscene and dangerous Stones who you wouldn’t want your daughter going within a hundred miles of. It was great fun and of course the Stones manager – Andrew Loog Oldham – lapped it up and fed it for all it was worth.

What it did to the music was to bring a harder edge to the sound. It was not so Poppy and over-produced. There was a rough, raw edge to it. This was not commercial pop; this was unrefined blues – and it rocked! The excitement and energy was right there in your face!

The first band I ever saw live were the British Birds with Ron Wood on guitar. The second band I caught was Them when ‘Baby Please Don’t Go’ was riding high in the charts. I was in my element.

Of course it couldn’t last. The blues bands were quickly joined by the Mod bands and soon everyone was writing their own material. It all became more ‘original’ sounding and the blues became only one component.

You can see it with the Stones – the first two albums were heavily Blues and then the music changed. Likewise with the Downliners Sect – one superb blues album and then into country. The Kinks – one Swamp Blues album and then their own distinctive sound. The blues phase moved on and burnt itself out. After 1964 the British Blues Beat Bands changed their sound.

The irony was that, on the back of the Beatles and Merseybeat, the British Beat groups exported blues back to America. The Rolling Stones, Animals and Yardbirds got the American white kids dancing to black American blues. The real thing might have been playing on their doorsteps and they had never heard it. They went for the sound of the British Beat groups with a vengeance. The blues invaded America.

Poetry – One Gaff and a Slow Slice – a poem about the murder of the highly intelligent porpoises and dolphins.

Poetry – One Gaff and a Slow Slice – a poem about the murder of the highly intelligent porpoises and dolphins.

dolphins2 dolphins 4

This was a number of my Anthropocene Apocalypse poems.

The dolphins and porpoises have bigger brains than us. They are certainly intelligent. But they are gentle creatures with no need to build shelters or machines, let alone weapons.

I stood on the hills above Wineglass Bay in Tasmania with  my wife Liz and my friends Dylan and Julia. It is one of the most beautiful sights with its emerald green water and golden sands. I thought it was called Wineglass Bay solely because of its shape as a wine glass. It wasn’t. In the older days they would herd thousands of dolphins into the shallow water. The hunters would stand in the water gaffing them with huge serrated hooks and sawing through their necks to sever the spinal cord with great serrated knives. They would continue in an orgy of murder until all the trapped terrorised animals were slaughtered and the water they stood in was turned from emerald green to crimson. From the hills the water of the bay was turned red as if it was a half-full glass of Beaujolai.

Can you imagine that much blood?

Can you imagine the pain? To be speared with a huge gaff while some brute slowly cuts through your body with a great knife?

You’d think that was bad enough. But those were uncivilised days. People were brutalised. Except it is still going on. In the Faroe Islands they are still doing this.

They are as bad as the sadists of ISIS!

One Gaff and a Slow Slice

One gaff

And a slow serrated slice,

Sawing and hacking to the cord.

Then relief.

Agony prolonged,

Intense,

and grief.

 

Gentle and trusting

Easily herded

Into the shallows

Where the blood

Is curded.

 

Gleefully stabbed.

The shock resounds.

Excited hunter

With joy rebounds.

 

No concept of the pain.

Sad meat upon the shore

Crimson seeps between

Each grain

But the fever

Still screams

For more.

 

Butchered in the sunset

Ruddy water

Reflects

The crime.

Hunter stands

In depths

Of gory grime

As one

Of the great tragedies

Of our time.

Opher 4.7.2015

Poetry – Elefantasy – a poem in my Anthropocene Apocalypse series about the terrible tragedy occurring to the majestic elephants.

Poetry – Elefantasy – a poem in my Anthropocene Apocalypse series about the terrible tragedy occurring to the majestic elephants.

elephant tusks 3

Elefantasy

Matriarchal tribe

Even with bull

In his prime.

Gestation lengthy

Baby suckles

Loved all the time.

 

For the love of a tooth

Ripped from a dying head

The family too is ripped

As father’s blood is shed.

 

Opher 4.7.2015

Only a decade ago I was out on safari in ecstasy as I watched the herd of elephants with calves stroll around us. The big bull stood in the centre of the track with ears spread wide, watching us intently. The driver had his hand on the gear and his foot on the pedal. I was enthralled as father twitched his tail and flapped his ears. He decided we meant no harm. The herd passed through following their old female leader and the Bull followed up the rear. I watched as they melted into the foliage and disappeared from sight.

I thought they were only disappearing from sight. They were disappearing from the planet. They are being slaughtered by the thousand and hunted to extinction.

The superstition of Chinese medicine and the love of ivory carving has created a market that is as obscene as it is stupid. Ivory is exactly the same stuff your teeth are made of. It has no magic power. But rhinos and elephants are being hunted and cruelly killed. Their tusks and horns are hacked out of their heads with machetes even while they still live. It is obscene.

Poetry – Elefantasy – a poem in my Anthropocene Apocalypse series about the terrible tragedy occurring to the majestic elephants.

elephant tusks 3elephants african

Elefantasy

Matriarchal tribe

Even with bull

In his prime.

Gestation lengthy

Baby suckles

Loved all the time.

 

For the love of a tooth

Ripped from a dying head

The family too is ripped

As father’s blood is shed.

 

Opher 4.7.2015

Only a decade ago I was out on safari in ecstasy as I watched the herd of elephants with calves stroll around us. The big bull stood in the centre of the track with ears spread wide, watching us intently. The driver had his hand on the gear and his foot on the pedal. I was enthralled as father twitched his tail and flapped his ears. He decided we meant no harm. The herd passed through following their old female leader and the Bull followed up the rear. I watched as they melted into the foliage and disappeared from sight.

I thought they were only disappearing from sight. They were disappearing from the planet. They are being slaughtered by the thousand and hunted to extinction.

The superstition of Chinese medicine and the love of ivory carving has created a market that is as obscene as it is stupid. Ivory is exactly the same stuff your teeth are made of. It has no magic power. But rhinos and elephants are being hunted and cruelly killed. Their tusks and horns are hacked out of their heads with machetes even while they still live. It is obscene.

New definitive book on Rock Music from its roots – Rock Routes

New definitive book on Rock Music from its roots – Rock Routes – out now in paperback for £9.57.

I spent years writing this and have been holding it back. I decided to release it now. I don’t know why.

If you like Rock Music you will adore this! It gives you my personal take on all the genres and their major exponents and essential tracks. It’s informative and readable. It sheds light and is a great guide. Why not give it a try?

Blurb

This charts the progress of Rock Music from its beginnings in Country Blues, Country& Western, R&B and Gospel through to its Post Punk period of 1980. It tells the tale of each genre and lists all the essential tracks. I was there at the beginning and I’m still there at the front! Keep on Rockin’!!