Ian Dury – You’ll See Glimpses – wonderful idealistic lyrics.

Ian Dury – You’ll See Glimpses – wonderful idealistic lyrics.

Ian Dury is wonderful. He was a genius. I loved his poetry and philosophy even though he was meant to have been a cantankerous bastard.

I think this song really captures the dreams of an idealist. They all think I’m mad too. There’s almost a defeatist, listen to the band on the Titanic – it’s going to go down anyway. There’s nothing you can do. Might as well just have a good time and forget that the tycoons are strip-mining the wildernesses and chopping down the jungles, and slaughtering the animals, while the religious fanatics think that god will save the day or it doesn’t matter we’re all going to paradise.

I don’t believe that rubbish.

I’m looking out from the bows and pointing at the ice-berg. We can steer round it! It doesn’t have to end in disaster!

The answers to the world’s problems are all simple. There is nothing hard about it. We elect the psychopaths. We support the business men and bankers (and they are nearly all men) on their mad journey to increase their own pots of gold. We follow the religious nutters on their crusades, inquisitions and caliphates. We are always surprised when the inevitable happens.

Instead of growth lets think sustainable. Instead of nations lets think globally. Instead of worn out diatribes from long deceased superstitions let’s think United Nations charter of Rights. Instead of tribes and patriotism lets think brother and sisterhood. Instead of war, aggression and violence lets think peace, love and fraternity. Instead of homogeneity lets value the difference. Instead of hatred lets work on trust. Instead of destroying – let’s build.

It’s all about a positive Zeitgeist. You’re all welcome.

People tell me it’s human nature; we can’t fight it.

I say bollocks. We’ve come a long way. We don’t burn people, use cat-o-nines, whip, torture, castrate and murder anymore – at least not in this country. We need a global mandate to prevent the pockets of uncivilised behaviour, like ISIS, from having too great an effect.

We don’t go bear-baiting, cock-fighting, dog-fighting or hang people from gibbets.

Human beings can progress and become civilised. We’ve come a long way.

I agree with Ian. I like his dream better than ISIS’s nightmare!

It’s a dream. I get glimpses of it. It could be real!

Unfortunately Ian ran out of birthdays.

You’ll See Glimpses

(All spoken)

You’ll see.

They think I’m off my crust as I creep about the caff.
But I’m really getting ready to surprise them all,
Because I’m busy sorting out the problems of the world.
And when I reveal all I may get a crinkly mouth.
I’ve given my all to the task at hand unstintingly.
When it’s all over I’ll rest on my laurels.

Here for a moment is a glimpse of my plan:
All the kids will be happy learning things.
The wind will smell of wild flowers.
Nobody will whack each other about with nasty things.
All the room in the world.

They take me for a mug because I smile.
They think I’m too out of tune to mind being patronised.
All in all, it’s been another phase in my chosen career,
And when my secrets are out they’ll bite their silly tongues.
All I want for my birthday is another birthday.
When skies are blue we all feel the benefit.

Glimpse Number 2 for the listener.
Everyone will feel useful in lovely ways.
Trees will be firmly rooted in town and country.
Illness and despair will be dispensed with.
All the room in the world.

They ask me if I’ve had the voices yet.
They don’t think I know any true answers.
It’s true that I haven’t quite finished yet.
When it all comes out in the wash they’ll eat their words.
I’ve got all their names and addresses.
Later on I’ll write them each a thank-you letter.

Before I stop, here’s a last glimpse into the general future.
Home rule will exist in each home, forever.
Every living thing will be another friend.
This wonderful state of affairs will last for always.

This has been got out by a friend.

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Poetry – Egg Poot Froth – A poem I wrote for Don Van Vliet – Captain Beefheart.

Poetry – Egg Poot Froth – A poem I wrote for Don Van Vliet – Captain Beefheart.

All this talk of Captain Beefheart took me back to this poem I wrote. It is an attempt to capture something of his inimitable style. So obviously it failed horribly as nobody can ever come close.

But it was fun. I visualised it as a performance piece. At one time I was discussing dressing up as a pantomime horse with my mate Rich, walking around Hull with me reciting this through the horses backside.

Somehow he wasn’t keen.

EGG POOT FROTH

Egg poot froth

Egg poot froth

Masticated in magenta mandibles

Egg poot froth

Migrating magnificently

Nowhere

 

Tooth drip spew

          Tooth drip spew

Grips the tortured trebles

Tooth drip spew

Tangibly trembling

In the air

 

Egg poot     Tooth drip

 

While the tragic hobo jungle bum

Constructs the new day

And rambles on his way

Egg poot froth

Egg poot froth

 

Egg poot

Tooth drip

Froth spew

While the hobo bum

Creates the day anew

 

Gypsy Queen Princess

Illuminates the new day

Dancing through magenta dawn

To where the hoboes play

 

Egg poot froth

Egg poot froth

 

She chooses wisely

As the magic hoboes pose

Evades the tooth and spew

That every pooter knows

 

Tooth drip spew

 

Maxillae clatter

And labia vibrate

Hoboes spurt

Pooters can’t wait

 

Egg poot froth                         Egg poot froth

 

Young dudes rush and prance

While claw and tooth cleave

Old jungle bums

Reap the day and leave

 

Tooth drip            Spew

 

The Gypsy Queen Princess

Discards her froth and poots

Another day is born

Another pooter shoots

 

Egg poot froth

Egg poot froth

That’s all there is!

Egg poot froth

Evolution’s come to this!

 

Opher 12.7.00

Millionaires – Phat Bollard – A Protest Song with humour – for now!

Eddie Bewsher  put me on to this great protest song from this busking band – full of humour and laced with truth.

I thought it was brilliant. I wish it was on CD!!

Oh – it is available on CD – or streaming – you can get it from here:

https://phatbollard.bandcamp.com/

Millionaires – Phat Bollard

I don’t give to the big issue seller cause he’s probably on heroin
I walk past him with a grin and if I can I kick his dog
No, I don’t give to the busker
He’s talentless and lazy
He’s ruining the country
I think he should get a job
Instead, I give my money to:
Walmart for its tax evasion
Primark for its child labor
Texaco for the next invasion
I don’t give a fuck about you
I give my money to the millionaires (x2)
I give all my money to the millionaires and I don’t give a fuck about you
No, I don’t give to the beggar
That’s what I pay my taxes for
The government should shove him through the door, of a prison cell or a hospital
I don’t give to the homeless pisshead
He’ll blow it all on booze instead
Such a waster, doesn’t deserve a bed
What do you mean? “Welfare is dead “
Because I give my money to:
Walmart for its tax evasion
Primark for its child labor
Texaco for the next invasion
Don’t give a fuck about you
I give my money to the millionaires (x2)
I give all my money to the millionaires that don’t give a fuck about you
I give my money to Starbucks in case they get hard up
BP cause making a living ain’t easy
Barclays cause they look after me and I don’t give a fuck about you
I give my money to the millionaires (x2)
I give all my money to the millionaires and I don’t give a fuck about you

There – you can sing along!!!

Beatles – Piggies – Lyrics that are very appropriate in this age of greed, bankers and austerity.

Beatles – Piggies – Lyrics that are very appropriate in this age of greed, bankers and austerity.

 

Snouts in the trough. Head down and forward. Mindless and vacuous. Never questioning, feeling or thinking. Fitting in. Doing what’s right. Getting on. Looking after number one. Making a living and who cares who you have to trample on.

The Beatles were a brilliant band. Such diversity, intelligence and cleverness.

“Piggies”

Have you seen the little piggies
Crawling in the dirt?
And for all the little piggies
Life is getting worse
Always having dirt to play around inHave you seen the bigger piggies
In their starched white shirts?
You will find the bigger piggies
Stirring up the dirt
Always have clean shirts to play around inIn their styes with all their backing
They don’t care what goes on around
In their eyes there’s something lacking
What they need’s a damn good whacking

Everywhere there’s lots of piggies
Living piggy lives
You can see them out for dinner
With their piggy wives
Clutching forks and knives to eat their bacon

The Who – Won’t get Fooled Again – lyrics about the futility of war and regime change. Violent revolution changes nothing.

The Who – Won’t get Fooled Again – lyrics about the futility of war and regime change. Violent revolution changes nothing.

 

The sixties was an age of liberation. There was talk of a revolution. The students and workers took to the streets in Paris and set up barricades. Never had there been such a generation gap; such a difference in philosophy between the young who wanted peace, love, equality and a global perspective and the older generation with its paranoia and belligerence.

The Vietnam war had brought it all to a head. The cold war raged and the assured mutual destruction of the nuclear arsenals meant we all lived a few minutes away from annihilation.

We thought there was a better way – global brotherhood.

The trouble is that it is always the psychopathic and sociopathic people who rise to the top. They seem so plausible. They are so coherent; so strong. Once in power they are just the same as the old lot.

The Who summed it up in one of the most powerful songs of its day.

The trouble is that we always seem to be fooled time and time again!

Won’t Get Fooled Again

We’ll be fighting in the streets with our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again

The change, it had to come, we knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that’s all
And the world looks just the same and history ain’t changed
‘Cause the banners, they are flown in the last war

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again, no no

I’ll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?

There’s nothing in the streets, looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left is now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
Don’t get fooled again, no no

Yeah
Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss

Jimi and John – a poem

Jimi and John

 

Jimi and John – Jim and Janis

Brian, George, Buddy and Bo

Lost in the mists of time,

Back into the ground below.

 

Chuck and Muddy – Howlin’ and Slim,

Elmore, Elvis, Davy and Bert

No longer calling the tunes,

Now back part of the dirt.

 

Carl and Jack – Son and Robert

Otis, Aretha, Don and Phil

Gave us so many songs

We remember them still.

 

Opher 16.7.2019

 

 

I could have gone on to fill pages of the role of honour. So many great musicians have gone.

Just paying homage.

50 Years since the Moon Landing – Gil Scott Heron – Whitey’s On The Moon

Gil makes some valid points here. There’s always enough money for political projects – like the space race, war or creating billionaires, but there’s never enough to deal with poverty, healthcare, education, or to clean up the ghettos.

We still have racial inequality, soup kitchens, people sleeping under flyovers and innocents being bombed.

Perhaps they should find some money to deal with these things too!

“Whitey On The Moon”

A rat done bit my sister Nell
With Whitey on the moon
Her face and arms began to swell
And Whitey’s on the moonI can’t pay no doctor bills
But Whitey’s on the moon
Ten years from now I’ll be paying still
While Whitey’s on the moon

You know, the man just upped my rent last night
Cause Whitey’s on the moon
No hot water, no toilets, no lights
But Whitey’s on the moon

I wonder why he’s uppin’ me?
Cause Whitey’s on the moon?
Well i was already given him fifty a week
And now Whitey’s on the moon

Taxes takin’ my whole damn check
The junkies make me a nervous wreck
The price of food is goin up
And if all that crap wasn’t enough
A rat done bit my sister Nell
With Whitey on the moon

Her face and arms began to swell
And Whitey’s on the moon

With all that money i made last year
For Whitey on the moon
How come I ain’t got no money here?
Hmm, Whitey’s on the moon

You know I just about had my fill
Of Whitey on the moon
I think I’ll send these doctor bills
airmail special
(To Whitey on the moon)

Bo Diddley – Greatest Lover in the World – lyrics of a modest man describing his sexual abilities.

Bo Diddley – Greatest Lover in the World – lyrics of a modest man describing his sexual abilities.

That’s me and Bo!!

boddiley2 BoDiddley

Bo Diddley was a bit of a maverick sensation. He epitomised the swagger and attitude of the hipster black dude. At a time when there was such inequality and racial hatred it was great to see Bo (short for Bad Boy) standing there with such panache and style.

He came straight out of McComb Mississippi fully formed. An ex boxer with all the attitude you could want. He was second to no one.

Some say he was a trifle self-centred. I don’t know how they could say that? His first song Bo Diddley and then Hey Bo Diddley were kind of focussed on one topic, I suppose. And then maybe Bo’s a Lumberjack and Bo’s a Gunfighter continued the theme and 500% more Man was a slight exaggeration.

When I saw him play he was certainly one of the greatest performers I’ve ever seen!

opher & Bo Diddley 1980 (1)

I don’t think this song was really sexist or misogynistic. It was just Bo boasting and having fun.

Who knows? Perhaps he was the greatest lover in the world?

I’m the Greatest Lover in the World – by Bo Diddley

I’m the greatest lover in the world
I was born just to love you, young girls
I’m the greatest lover ever seen
Hey, try me and see what I mean
I’m the first, the last, the best and the most
The women love me from coast to coast

The greatest lover ever made
I can love ya forty nights and forty days
I’m the first lover in the land
The call me a lovin’ man
I’m the first, the last, the best and the most
The women love me from coast to coast

From New York City, out to L.A.
The women think about me both night and day
From Canada to Mexico
I’m the one the women love the most

The greatest lover in the world
Born just to love you young girl
Know you can’t judge a book by it’s cover
Whoa, don’t you know I’m a nat’ral born lover?
I’m the first, the last, the best and the most
The women love me from coast to coast

< sax and instrumental>

From New York City, out to L.A.
The women think about me both night and day
Canada down to Mexico
I’m the one that the women love most

I’m the greatest lover in the world
I was born just to love these young girls
No, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover
I’m a nat’ral born lover
I’m the first, the last, the best and the most
The women love me from coast to coast

Yeah, yeah!
FADES-
I’m a lover
Oh, yeah
I’m a lover.

“57 Channels (And Nothin’ On)” – Bruce Springsteen

 

TV cartoon5713

There used to be a time long ago when there were only two channels and we all watched the same show.

It unified us all. The next day, if there was a good programme, we’d all watched it, discussed it and it became part of the communities culture.

Now we’ve got 5000 channels of utter crap. There’s game-shows and repeats coming out my arse.

Where’s all the thought-provoking documentaries? The great dramas? The brilliant series? – Few and far between. We’re all treated as numpties. Even the films shown are all Hollywood crap. I’m sick of vampires and comic heroes. I want some substance.

You can spend more time flicking through looking for something than actually watching it!

Bruce summed it up for me – 5 million channels and nothing worth seeing!! Who makes all this crap? How do they get it on air?

“57 Channels (And Nothin’ On)”

 

I bought a bourgeois house in the Hollywood hills
With a trunkload of hundred thousand dollar bills
Man came by to hook up my cable TV
We settled in for the night my baby and me
We switched ’round and ’round ’til half-past down
There was fifty-seven channels and nothin’ onWell now home entertainment was my baby’s wish
So I hopped into town for a satellite dish
I tied it to the top of my Japanese car
I came home and I pointed it out into the stars
A message came back from the great beyond
There’s fifty-seven channnels and nothin’ onWell we might’ a made some friends with some billionaires
We might’ a got all nice and friendly
If we’d made it upstairs
All I got was a note that said “Bye-bye John
Our love is fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on”

So I bought a .44 magnum it was solid steel cast
And in the blessed name of Elvis well I just let it blast
‘Til my TV lay in pieces there at my feet
And they busted me for disturbin’ the almighty peace
Judge said “What you got in your defense son ?”
“Fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on”
I can see by your eyes friend you’re just about gone
Fifty-seven channels and nothin’ on
Fifty-seven channels and nothin’…

Randy Newman – It’s money that I love – Lyrics with meaning – a satirical look at the empty greed and selfishness that drives some people.

Randy Newman – It’s money that I love – Lyrics with meaning – a satirical look at the empty greed and selfishness that drives some people.

 

Randy Newman is a genius. His songs are often understated, satirical send-ups. The lyrics are honed to perfection.

It’s Money that I Love

I don’t love the mountains
And I don’t love the sea
And I don’t love Jesus
He never done a thing for me
I ain’t pretty like my sister
Or smart like my dad
Or good like my mama

It’s Money That I Love
It’s Money That I Love

They say that’s money
Can’t buy love in this world
But it’ll get you a half-pound of cocaine
And a sixteen-year old girl
And a great big long limousine
On a hot September night
Now that may not be love
But it is all right

One, two
It’s Money That I Love
Wanna kiss you Three, four
It’s Money That I Love

Used to worry about the poor
But I don’t worry anymore
Used to worry about the black man
Now I don’t worry about the black man
Used to worry about the starving children of India
You know what I say about the starving children of India ?
I say, “Oh mama”

It’s Money That I Love
It’s Money That I Love
It’s Money That I Love