Neil Gaiman: Neverwhere Gaiman's 1st full length novel reads like a dream. A story about London Above and London Below, if you have ever lived in the city, you would get this book.
I reserve the right to remove comments that I find too personal, inappropriate and/or likely to have me eating chicken curry for two years. I also assert all my rights folks.
Melbourne-based band consisting of David Smith and Hamish Hutchinson (of former Brunei bands MOTA and Plan The Exit) have just recorded their punk-rock cover of 'Rasa Sayang'.
It's kinda like seeing the sixth form geography teacher from New Zealand sweating in a purple baju melayu, but not quite.
Japanese TV shows rule. Impersonating the entire We Are The World cast in song is serious TV man. The Cyndi Lauper part of the song is spot on, perhaps because Cyndi sounds like a Japanese banshee anyway.
It was Beloved Husband's birthday recently and I booked our usual band to help celebrate with some tunes from the Beatles. A few days before the day, my father rings me at an Un-Godly hour of the morning and tells to me that he and his band will be my Fab Four. "You have a band?!?" It was all I could muster being that it was early. Naturally I had my concerns. We already had a band booked. How are we going to fit 2 sets of instruments? I meekly said to Dad after calling him back at a reasonable time of day when my brain was fully functioning. He would not be deterred, texting me a day later to ask whether he and his mates should come in costume. A whole lot of Beatles songs, costumes and vibe ensued.
A day after our Beatles do, my father text me this:
"Bobby wanted to sing Helter Skelter...band wasn't up to it so they settled for Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da. It WAS helter skelter!! Nonetheless, I enjoyed the party and sang about 15 Beatles songs! I had to leave cos my friend Hj Z wanted to (we came in 1 car)...it was a bit of a culture shock for him I guess. Kiss Mimi for me."
To my father the aging rockstar: You're a bit of a konon but I'm still Daddy's girl. I'm also Beatle-d out, so here's the uber talented Sungha Jung playing the song when he was only 10 years old for you. xx
Desmond has a barrow in the market place
Molly is the singer in a band
Desmond says to Molly - girl I like your face
And Molly says this as she takes him by the hand.
[ Chorus: ] Obladi oblada life goes on brah
Lala how the life goes on
Obladi Oblada life goes on brah
Lala how the life goes on.
Desmond takes a trolley to the jewellers store
Buys a twenty carat golden ring
Takes it back to Molly waiting at the door
And as he gives it to her she begins to sing.
[ Chorus ]
In a couple of years they have built
A home sweet home
With a couple of kids running in the yard
Of Desmond and Molly Jones.
Happy ever after in the market place
Desmond lets the children lend a hand
Molly stays at home and does her pretty face
And in the evening she still
sings in with the band.
[ Chorus ]
In a couple of years they have built
A home sweet home
With a couple of kids running in the yard
Of Desmond and Molly Jones.
Happy ever after in the market place
Molly lets the children lend a hand
Desmond stays at home and does his pretty face
And in the evening she's a singer with the band.
[ Chorus ]
And if you want some fun - take Obladiblada.
Ps/ I thought Bobby brought the house down with this song.
Google images of Amy Winehouse and there's many of her in her pale pink ballet flats looking wasted, awfully thin and bleeding. Sometimes all at once. I enjoy her music and think she is extremely talented, but now I find Amy Winehouse has become incomprehensible. She's seen in this strange and sad video playing with baby mice and begging husband Blake Fielder-Civil, who is currently languishing in prison, not to divorce her. I am almost fearful that she will suddenly squash the little ones. That Pete Doherty is hanging about her looking very dirty, doesn't help.
I really don't mind the ratty beehive and super-lined eyes I think they're kinda cool but Amy, what are we going to do with you?
Just some Elton John and Robert Downey Jr to help ease you into Monday morning. RBJ had to be excused from prison for a day to do this video for Sir Elton. And the video was done in one shot. Good stuff.
You were doing so well until you started getting cheesy with Here Come The Sun. I love you, you know I do, but even I cringed at the awkward twirl with the whoooh. Instead you let Syesha be the Brooke White of the night. Buck up you silly girl and well played Syesha.
I was discussing American Idol with JazzB this evening. We talked about how David Archuleta is the popular choice to win Season 7. Television Without Pity of course has the wisest thing to say about the matter:
But here's the thing: when Amanda sings, I feel like I'm in a bar; when David Cook sings, I feel like I'm in a club; when Brooke sings, I feel like I'm in an amphitheater; when Jason sings, I feel like I'm in my dealer's living room; but when David Archuleta sings, I feel like I'm watching a high school talent show. Every time. And it's a performing arts high school for gifted kids, absolutely. And he's clearly the best in the talent show, and he'll totally win and deservedly so. But if you're asking me to list the places I'd pay to be, I'd rather see Amanda at the bar, David Cook at the club, Brooke at the concert hall, and Jason at my dealer's house than go to David A.'s talent show.
Did Amanda Overmeyer deserve the boot this week? I wish lembab (damp) Kristy Lee Cook would just go already because she has sucked too many times. Amanda is, at the very least, entertaining.
I think next week's theme is gonna be ELVIS! "each contestant will sing a song from their year of birth". Bobby on the other hand is wanting a Robert Smith theme. Although I heart The Cure, somehow I don't see any of the Idol contestants singing "Killing An Arab"...
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
She stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me that I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I’ve seen
I said, “Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?”
On the second day he came with a single red rose
He said: “Give me your loss and your sorrow”
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
“If I show you the roses will you follow?”
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me that I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
She lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye, said, “All beauty must die”
And I lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
A must hear even with the spooky lyrics because Kylie Minogue and Nick Cave singers from the land down under makes it work.
Especially with the video dark, morbid and beautiful.
I love Billy Bragg's "New England". Serious public school boy rock.
The chorus just begs to be sung.
I was twenty one years when I wrote this song
I'm twenty two now, but I won't be for long
People ask when will you grow up to be a man
But all the girls I loved at school
Are already pushing prams
I loved you then as I love you still
Though I put you on a pedestal,
They put you on the pill
I don't feel bad about letting you go
I just feel sad about letting you know
I don't want to change the world
I'm not looking for a new england
I'm just looking for another girl
I don't want to change the world
I'm not looking for a new england
I'm just looking for another girl
I loved the words you wrote to me
But that was bloody yesterday
I can't survive on what you send
Every time you need a friend
I saw two shooting stars last night
I wished on them but they were only satellites
Is it wrong to wish on space hardware
I wish, I wish, I wish you'd care
I don't want to change the world
I'm not looking for a new england
I'm just looking for another girl
At 35, Leonard Cohen was a highly unlikely debut pop star. His obsession for women was now getting regularly reciprocated. He lived up to his image as the eccentric romantic. At a party once, he approached a beautiful woman, took a strand of her long hair, dipped it into his wine glass, slowly sucked it dry, let it fall and walked away without saying a word.
K.D. Lang (not a boy but not quite a girl) sings a swell rendition of Leonard Cohen's Bird On A Wire. My other favourite Cohen story is that we sang a reggae version of the song once. Everyone thought we were quite strange.
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