I have just received a bunch of books. If anybody wants a signed copy I can do them for £12 plus postage!
Ian Dury On Track: Every Album, Every Song: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781789523744: Books
Ian Dury book out TODAY!!
I greatly enjoyed researching and writing this book. Listening to every single track that Ian produced was a great pleasure. Playing them with a view to analyse and explain is a different experience. It’s a bit like putting pieces of a jigsaw together. This is the finished puzzle!!
Ian Dury On Track: Every Album, Every Song: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781789523744: Books
Poo-Poo In The Prawn (Ian Dury, Mickey Gallagher)
Ian sinks his fangs into the very topical business of sewage disposal. It’s a big job but he’s more than up to the task of taking the water companies to account. There’s poo-poo in the prawn and it’s giving him gyp. He wants something done. He doesn’t hold back. All the trademark rhymes and crudities are brought to bear. He loves a bit of toilet humour and where better to apply it? Ian loved to go swimming. It was good exercise for his polio-afflicted body. Whenever he selected a new home a swimming pool was one of the main criteria. The idea of polluted water got right up his nose. ‘Some turds were teeny-tiny and some were big and shiny but they all fucked up the briny In which I dipped my toe. If you go swimming in the shite-us. You’ll get worse than dermatitis. From the sea of grey detritus
Where the sewage ebbs and flows. There’s no respite from the cesspit. No shelter from the pong. The poor old ocean is full of motions. Where the hell did we go wrong?’
Youtube Ian Dury Poo-Poo In The Prawn – Google Search
I took a sudden notion
To go down to the ocean
I got my suntan lotion
My flippers and my mask
In proper distribution
Of fully formed ablutions
Formed an ocean of pollution
In which I doesn’t bask
Some turds were teeny-tiny
And some were big and shiny
But they all fucked up the briney
In which I dipped my toe
If you go swimming in the shite-us
You’ll get worse than dermititis
From the sea of grey detritus
Where the sewage ebbs and flows
There’s no respite
From the cesspit
No shelter from the pong
The poor old ocean
Is full of motions
Where the hell did we go wrong?
Like a lamb off to the slaughter
Poured myself a glass of water
I failed to spot I’d caught a
Little creature in my cup
I was well and truly bolleaux-ed
From the fires of hell that followed
‘Twas the cup of life I’d swallowed
And it almost did me up
Something coming
Through the plumbing
That should not be there at all
The glass is brimming
And things are swimming
And quite frankly, I’m appalled
Was a very hungry fella
I defrosted my paella
Came down with salmonella
Three weeks intensive care
They failed to send technicians in
To check the air-conditioning
Which was unfortunately transmissioning
A case of Legionnaire
There’s a malaise
In the mayonnaise
There’s a poo-poo in the prawn
Where we missed them
In the system
Little germs are being born
There’s no respite
From the cesspit
There’s no shelter from the pong
Where the hell did we go?
Reasons to be Cheerful Pt. 3
We all need reasons to be cheerful!
What makes this so brilliant is the alignment of such unlikely things! Simply superb!
Ian Dury and The Blockheads – Reasons To Be Cheerful, Pt. 3 (Official Lyrics Video) – YouTube
On Track – Ian Dury. Your thoughts??
I’ve just obtained a contract to write a book on another of my heroes – Ian Dury. It fired me up! I’ve already started. What do you reckon of this start to the introduction??
On Track – Ian Dury
Opher Goodwin
In 1976 I had been teaching for a year. I was twenty-seven-years-old and considered myself quite young and still pretty hip – a product of the sixties underground. I ran a lunch-time club where the hippest long-haired kids gathered to play loud music in defiance of the staid hierarchy. I felt I had more in common with the kids than I did the staff. I was surprised to find the young hipsters listening to the Doors and Velvet Underground and asked them if they didn’t have anything of their own. This was music from my era. They told me that there was nothing that was worth listening too. So I introduced them to Roy Harper, Captain Beefheart and Country Joe and the Fish. They lapped it up.
One evening I was at home when the doorbell rang. A crowd of young punks stood on the doorstep – long-hair now short and spiked with brylcream, tight jeans, rips and razor blades, silver-sprayed shoes held together with safety pins. It was my lunch-time students. ‘Right, you boring old fart. We’ve come to play you some decent music!’
I ushered them in and was regaled with Sex Pistols, Clash, Damned and New York Dolls. The dawn of a new era. Punk and New Wave heralded a clear schism with the past with a supersonic burst of nascent energy. Rock had rediscovered itself, remoulded itself and re-emerged with a bang. A new philosophy. Unleashed. Unfettered. Complete with a new rebelliousness. The naivety of the sixties revolution was replaced with a snarling anarchy. The new punks were as much at war with the sixties generation as they were the establishment. The world had realigned. I was the boring old fart – but I lapped it up.
In 1977 the Stiff label exploded with the likes of Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe and Wreckless Eric. The leading light was Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Sex &Drugs & Rock & Roll was stamping its defiant riff at the nation and was instantly banned and then New Boots And Panties took us all by storm. We’d discovered a new wordsmith whose clever outspoken couplets, married to a storming funky backing from the Blockheads, propelled us into another age. Ian defined the times and set the tone. His combination of punk, funk, poet and vaudeville created an entirely new genre. This was not New Wave, not Punk; this was Ian Dury!
Tribute to Rock Genius – Ian Dury
Ian Dury
Ian was a wordsmith. He started as an artist splashing colour but he ended up painting pictures with words. He loved playing with them. He was an outspoken, controversial and cantankerous person.
His childhood was blighted with polio, which left him permanently crippled, and what sounds like a horrendous experience in a home for disabled children. It left a lasting impression on his personality.
Emerging from Art School to take on the Pub Rock scene with Kilburn and the Highroads Ian began honing his writing skills. They really came to the fore with the production of his first solo album with the Blockheads. Not only was it musically more developed with a crisp production but the Stiff label release of this, along with the single ‘Sex and Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll’, set the tone for controversial lyrics and put Ian and the Blockheads at the forefront of the British New Wave/Punk explosion.
Nobody sounded like Ian. His voice wasn’t exactly operatic with its exaggerated Essex twang and the expletives certainly gave it an edge but his use of words was unique. It must have been interesting to see the rivalry between Ian and Elvis on the first Stiff tour. They were both masters at word play.
The music from the Blockheads was very tight and Ian formed a tight assemblage with the likes of Chas Jankel, Mick Gallagher, Charlie Charles and Norman Watt-Roy. They produced a rocky funky feel for Ian to string his words over like a manic Ray Winston.
Ian’s live act was extraordinary and totally different and bizarre. It was like a vaudeville clown on acid. He come on in various colourful and striped attire like a psychedelic tramp; divest himself of hats, ju-jus, bells, scarves, jackets, shirts, T-shirts, canes and various props, stuff things in his mouth, toot on horns, blow on whistles and yell out ‘OI OI!!’. It was the most visual and interesting spectacle I’ve ever witnessed. The wonder of it simply does not come across in film.
The songs were immensely varied with deployment of humour and extremely clever lyrics and topics as diverse as geniuses, reasons to be cheerful, his (also crippled) Rock idol Gene Vincent, employment choices, sex, his father, interesting Essex characters, and a recipe for utopia. His song ‘Spasticus Autisicus’ was a howl of angst aimed at what Ian viewed as a condescending attitude towards the disabled in the International Year of the Disabled Persons for which he had been asked to contribute. It got him banned by the BBC which I bet really pleased him.
Ian was entirely original, had a great vision and complex character. He never shied from causing offence or tackling subject matter that might cause upset. His death from cancer robbed us of a master song-writer and idiosyncratic performer who conformed to nothing.
Fortunately the Blockheads are still going strong storming out Ian’s songs so his spirit lives!
Ian Dury – You’ll See Glimpses – Ian’s vision of utopia. Let’s hope we can make it come true.
Poetic genius with complete disregard for decorum or audience. Ian wrote what he wanted and created the most outrageous, delightful and extreme lyrics.
He couldn’t really sing but was perfect to front the blockheads. He was colourful, extraordinary and an individual. Combining vaudeville clowning and zany props he created a live act that was unique. Nobody else pulled scarves out of their mouth, blew whistles and devested themselves of articles of clothing quite like Ian. He was a one off.
This song is a vision of utopia. It’s a bit tongue in cheek but none the less conveys a great deal of truth and beauty. I’d like to live in that world. It’s a million miles from Punk and yet, somehow, has all that Punk attitude. It’s delivered in a way that only Ian could pull off. A gem.
He took the energy of Punk, sensitivity and taste of an artist, playfulness of a poet and created something completely different. We miss you Ian!
You’ll See Glimpses – Ian Dury
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.
Read more: Ian Dury & The Blockheads – You’ll See Glimpses Lyrics | MetroLyrics
Ian Dury and the Blockheads – Opher’s World pays tribute to genius.
Ian was a wordsmith. He started as an artist splashing colour but he ended up painting pictures with words. He loved playing with them. He was an outspoken, controversial and cantankerous person.
His childhood was blighted with polio, which left him permanently crippled, and what sounds like a horrendous experience in a home for disabled children. It left a lasting impression on his personality.
Emerging from Art School to take on the Pub Rock scene with Kilburn and the Highroads Ian began honing his writing skills. They really came to the fore with the production of his first solo album with the Blockheads. Not only was it musically more developed with a crisp production but the Stiff label release of this, along with the single ‘Sex and Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll’, set the tone for controversial lyrics and put Ian and the Blockheads at the forefront of the British New Wave/Punk explosion.
Nobody sounded like Ian. His voice wasn’t exactly operatic with its exaggerated Essex twang and the expletives certainly gave it an edge but his use of words was unique. It must have been interesting to see the rivalry between Ian and Elvis on the first Stiff tour. They were both masters at word play.
The music from the Blockheads was very tight and Ian formed a tight assemblage with the likes of Chas Jankel, Mick Gallagher, Charlie Charles and Norman Watt-Roy. They produced a rocky funky feel for Ian to string his words over like a manic Ray Winston.
Ian’s live act was extraordinary and totally different and bizarre. It was like a vaudeville clown on acid. He come on in various colourful and striped attire like a psychedelic tramp; divest himself of hats, ju-jus, bells, scarves, jackets, shirts, T-shirts, canes and various props, stuff things in his mouth, toot on horns, blow on whistles and yell out ‘OI OI!!’. It was the most visual and interesting spectacle I’ve ever witnessed. The wonder of it simply does not come across in film.
The songs were immensely varied with deployment of humour and extremely clever lyrics and topics as diverse as geniuses, reasons to be cheerful, his (also crippled) Rock idol Gene Vincent, employment choices, sex, his father, interesting Essex characters, and a recipe for utopia. His song Spasticus Autisicus was a howl of angst aimed at what Ian viewed as a condescending attitude towards the disabled in the International Year of the Disabled Persons for which he had been asked to contribute. It got him banned by the BBC which I bet really pleased him.
Ian was entirely original, had a great vision and complex character. He never shied from causing offence or tackling subject matter that might cause upset. His death from cancer robbed us of a master song-writer and idiosyncratic performer who conformed to nothing.
Fortunately the Blockheads are still going strong storming out Ian’s songs. His spirit lives!