THE BEST OF THE VICAR - is not available in any shops

So we kicked off with a look at stars who lie in their lyrics:

Parishioner Skirky: It occurred to me at Cornbury, during Hayseed Dixie's splendid re-reading of "Duelling Banjos" that actually, it's not. It's a duet between a banjo and an acoustic guitar. And don't get me started on the difference between a ship and a boat, whether they're called 'Dignity' or not. Next you'll be telling me that if you squeeze a lemon the juice doesn't necessarily run down your leg. Pop stars and their literal innaccuracies. Hrumpph.

Parishioner Chris Diamond: Further to the mention of Sandi Thom's useless and hopelessly inaccurate lyrics for "I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker", on actually finding myself listening to the first few lines of the track I noticed her bemoaning the fact that she wasn't born in a time (it is indeed a tragedy she wasn't born in the 17th century or another similar period when she would have been unable to get her benighted message across) when "the Head of State didn't play guitar". Clearly this is an allusion to Fingers Tony Blair and his predeliction for said instrument but of course, Tony Blair isn't Head of State - regardless of what he prefers to believe - but is only Head of Government. Perhaps Miss Thom knows something about the musical disposition of Her Maj that the rest of us don't? Does Our Own Dear Queen like to pick up her Strat after a long day's shaking hands and pointing in order to while away a few hours in the Buck House basement riffing with some specially selected musical flunkeys? Or has Thom just got that wrong an' all? In fact I have some sympathy with Miss Thom's plea. If she were a punk rocker with flowers in her hair she'd at least never be seen or heard in the mass media, then she could spend her time wistfully pondering appearing on Revolver with a corsage strapped to her forehead without bothering any of the rest of us in the process.

Parishioner Magnus: Lenny Kravitz - " I wish that we could fly / Into the sky / Just like a dragonfly." I'm no zoologist, but don't dragonflies just hover a few inches above stagnant water? Nowhere near the sky, I think you'll find Lenny ...

Parishioner Richard Ellis: Surely the bone of contention here is not where the sky starts but the fact that dear old Lenny says 'I wish I could fly up in the sky, so very high, just like a dragonfly'. So Lenny clearly thinks the buzzy little things are involved in 'plane strikes and the like. He should get out more. But then perhaps so should I...

Parishioner Nick Reed: I can't believe that we've had a few weeks discussing the lies which pop songs tell us without anyone bringing up Squeeze's Great British Vacation number "Pulling Mussels From a Shell", which attempts to make a couple out of William Tell and Maid Marion. Now Mr Tell and Robin Hood might both have blinged it up with bows and arrows, but Marion's heart was surely in Sherwood and not Switzerland...

Then it was shops who pinch rock bands names and song titles:

Parishioner Tommy Koolberg: Back briefly, to pop-related shop nomenclature...Having been a regular visitor to Soho's Daddy Kool in the early 1980s, I was delighted to see,when driving through decidedly less cutting-edge Dagenham earlier today, the local bread and cake outlet glorying in the name Ma Bakers. Yes, without apostrophe. Any more Boney M-influenced emporia out there? The Vicar adds: On those long winter evening at the Vicarage the talk often turns to whether in fact Boney M were the weirdest group ever to make the music of pop. Who else could claim to have taken songs about 30s gangsters, madmonks from the 19th century and the exile of the children of Israel into the top ten. And to have achieved this while wearing togas must only increase our respect. Parishioner Phil: Whilst passing through Herne Bay at the weekend I couldn't help but be drawn to 'Veggie Perrins'.

Parishioner Craig: A few years back, myself and my wife were in Pizza Hut Brighton grabbing something to eat before attending a gig at the Brighton Centre. To my left, I was astounded to see one Snowy White and friend tucking into a large Hawaiian. Fast forward about ten years to the Pizza Hut at Ashfords Eureka Leisure Park. There, with his family almost unnoticed was non-other than... Gary Moore, again tucking into a large Hawaiian. I kid you not. Anyone else seen any other members of Thin Lizzy in a Pizza Hut?

The Verger: The sexual practice from which the Scissor Sisters draw their name is known in some quarters as "horizontal lacrosse".

Parishioner Baker has kept us entertained over the year. Here's one of his best:

Parishioner Danny Baker: If you should see anyone around town wearing a "This Is Daryl Tomlyn Speaking" T-shirt it is because we have had them made up for the radio show. Why? Well during our recent free-to-enter "Does it sound like somebody actually says your ENTIRE name during a song" phone-in, Daryl Tomlyn called and said that The Clash do exactly that about two minutes into Complete Control. And know what? Joe indeed does - just as the T-shirt now boasts. Also Connor Burn let us know that Arthur Brown repeatedly calls out his name about the same distance into "Fire". Again, well done everyone!

Parishioner Mark Service: Christmas is the time to raise a cup of good cheer with relatives and the success, or otherwise, of the celebrations depends on who your relatives are. Whilst playing on the interweb recently I discovered that Cold Feet actress Fay Ripley's aunty is Twinkle of 'Terry' fame. I wonder if parishioners know of other unusual combinations of artists connected by blood ties who might be on opposing ends of a cracker this year?

The Vicar writes: Parishioner Nick Leslie is married to a girl who's sister's brother-in-law is the drummer of Colosseum. Be honest, that takes some beating. Every Christmas, fellow percussionist Leslie and the great Jon Hiseman suck down a few scoops of Stone's Ginger Wine in a quiet corner and discuss the finer details of the timpani on Valentyne Suite. Bliss.

Cop out lyrics attracted our attention:

Parishioner John Mitchell: "How about some examples of when the muse just dries up and a songwriter simply pops down their first available thoughts in the quest to get the song finished and return to the more rock'n'roll pursuits of groupie pleasuring and substance abuse? To kick things off, let's consider this Shakespearean effort from Alice Cooper's School's Out." "Well we got no class/And we got no principles/And we got no innocence/We can't even think of a word that rhymes". It's right up there with "why do I find it hard to write the next line?" from Spandau Ballet's True.

The Vicar adds: We must tip our hat to the prince of the "will this do?" lyric, Bernie Taupin, who got his career off the ground with the unforgettable "I sat on the roof and kicked up the moss/Well a few of these verses they got me quite cross..."

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

Fatboy Slim is taking the whole year off. Any parishioners who feel they might be adversely affected can seek counselling at the Vicarage.

We had a long hard butcher's at the poor showing of some towns:

COULD ROCK BETTER

The parish has spoken and our search for the UK's least rock and roll towns is at an end. Despite the desperate pleas of the sons and daughters of various 'burgs across the UK, the parish council has spoken and named the following un-rock and roll towns together with the best favourite son or daughter they can muster:

10. Eastbourne - Leapy Lee

9. Peterborough - Andy Bell out of Erasure

8. Harrogate - Wally

7. Batley - Robert Palmer

6. Clacton - Sade

5. Dunstable - Faye Tozer out of Steps

4. Reading - Slowdive

3. Doncaster - John Parr

2. Plymouth - nobody

1. Milton Keynes - even less than Plymouth

Parishioner Skirky:

It's all very noble, Ian Gillan demanding that no-one buy the Deep Purple live album recorded at the NEC on the grounds that it's not really up to much, but does anyone recall getting a refund at the time on the grounds that the gig was a bit shit?

Parishioner Stuart Booth has found something in the paper:

Friday, 23 February 2007: UKIP Party Chairman John Whittaker

said that the party is guilty of nothing more than "a simple clerical error

which could have been easily rectified had it been known." The Electoral

Commission has taken the decision to apply for forfeiture of donations to

the value of £363,697 from the UK Independence Party, saying that these

donations were impermissible because the donor, Mr Alan Bown, was not on the

Electoral Register between December 2004 and January 2006. He was, however,

on the register at his Kent address before this period and has also been on

the register since January 2006. He was unaware that his name had been

removed from the list during 2005. Mr Bown has been giving money to UKIP

throughout this time with all of his donations properly reported............. Can the Alan Bown be he of the blue-lacquered trumpet? Can the UK book trade's Dave Swarbrick also be famed folk/ and ex-Fairports fiddler?

Can Dr Nick Lowe of the Department of Classics, Royal Holloway, University of London be the former Schwarzman and Rockpiler?.

Not to mention the Pete Townshend alter egos in golf and in bookselling.

And how many other musos have a namesake or evn another life these days. For example, Martin Stone (Mighty Baby, Chilli Willi, etc) really is nowadays an antiquarian books scout for second-hand book guru Tom Driffield.

Then there was the thorny issue of refunds:

Parishioner Allan Williams:

Shortly after attending a gig at the Assembly Rooms Tamworth I received the following letter. " Dear Customer, Due to the fact that Midge Ure's voice was not to his usual high standard at the show on Wednesday, we would like to offer you, as a good will gesture, a £5 credit against another show at the venue" I had found the evening quite difficult to get through, especially the acoustic version of Vienna, so was quite relived when I got the letter.

And grumpy old rockers:

Parishioner Alan Robinson:

Another entry into your 'worst temper in rock' strand. I promoted a gig at London's Town & Country Club with the now deceased Mr Albert King - one of the 'Three Kings Of The Blues' back in 1990. When his road crew arrived, I was told by his crew that Albert would only allow his vocals and guitar to be put through the PA. Drums, bass and keyboards would not be miked up, and if Albert saw any such accoutrements, he would walk out of the venue. Albert, bless him, wouldn't soundcheck, so, when he arrived at the venue, it was down to muggins here to attempt to persuade him that, for the fifteen hundred punters or so who had shelled out their hard-earned, it would be a better listening experience if the gear went through the PA. Our conversation went something like this: me "Hello Albert, how are you? I gather that you don't want the rest of your band to be miked up through the PA, and..."

Albert immediately interjected: "F*ck you, motherfucker. I've been playing this m*therf*cking shit for forty years. You can blow your m*therf*cking PA out your m*therf*cking ass. The people are gonna hear my music my way, and if y'all don't like it, y'all can f*ck off. F*ck you."

Me: "I'll take that as 'no', then Albert." 'Born Under A Bad Sign'? You m*therf*cking bet.

This was the most startling and thought-provoking post of the year:

Parishioner Brian:

If ever there was a pastoral role for you...

Mebbe you'd like to check out my new post on the messageboard. Given that I'm following the path of Bill Hicks, I invoke the mighty powers of guilt. Also, my blog: www.captpancreas.blogspot.co.uk

Parishioner Alex:

An old work pal of mine once expressed his total disbelief that I am so fond of music, saying 'Can't stick it, myself'. To the misguided suggestion that a visit to a live concert might alter his perception, he added 'Went to some Gilbert and Sullivan once, couldn't make head nor tail of it.'

Parents' intentional mispronunciation of band names brought a large mailsack:

Parishioner Mike:

My Mother insisted on naming my own particular rock Gods 'Ned Zeppelin' and in fact managed to purchase Led Zep III for my Chrissy pressy using this name from the then far less capitalist, Virgin Records in Reading. She also managed to buy me '200 Motels' by describing Franky boy as ' that man who just got pushed off the stage and broke his leg'.

Parishioner Derek Ridgers:

Having seen the Rolling Stones several times in their heyday, by the time the '90s came, I often used to use that same line that Alex Baxter mentions. "If they were playing in my back garden I'd close the curtains and go to bed." Unfortunately, since my back garden virtually overlooks Twickenham Stadium, when the Rolling Stones play there, closing the curtains and going to bed doesn't really make much difference as to whether I get to hear them or not. So, I just join the rest of the neighbourhood and go and see them anyway. The older they get the more humorous the spectacle becomes. Maybe I've turned into my dad too?

Parishioner Steve D:

In the mid-1990s, shortly after the Manic Street Preachers had brought out their grim The Holy Bible album, I found myself sharing a flat for a few months in Gateshead with a drug-crazed, manically depressed bloke. He spent his days drinking white cider and doing any drug he could get his hands on, while listening to The Holy Bible about eight times a day. His unhealthy idolatory of Richey Manic culminated in him one day deciding to carve the word 'despair' into his arm, in the style of the notorious skin slashing guitarist. However, when he came into the room to shock me and a friend of his with what he had done, a misspelling and too big a space between letters caused his friend to ask him: "Who's Des Pear?" 

And we finish with the Lou & Lauren love-in ...

Parishioner Bette Paul:

Saturday June 16th 6.15 pm. Radio Four. Loose Ends.

John Shuttleworth guesting and singing one of his mundane but delightfully apposite songs 'You can't go back to the savoury' a ballad about the problem of discovering a portion of left-over shepherd's pie after embarking on one's treacle sponge pudding - superb and available on-line, his first, I believe. Lovely, lively interview with John's usual painfully logical, local responses and a load of laughs from the other guests.

Same day 7.15. BBC 2 The Culture Show.

Lauren Laverne interviews Lou Reed with visible awe and clips of various gigs, which , thank goodness, interrupt their intense eye-balling, simpering and smirking. And then it's 'Caroline Says'. Now, I'm (almost) new to Reed and my idea of a good gig tends towards the baroque but I was struck by the banality of both words (you can't call them lyrics, can you?) and music as well as the timbre of the voice. It all reminded me of - yes - it was utterly Shuttleworthian! Now, my question is: was it all in the cause of irony or has Reed decided to cut in on the Shuttleworth cult? Oh, and at the end she simpered her thanks and he said - yes he did 'Are you the London journalist I'm going to fall in love with?' and she replied. 'It's mutual'. Cut to mid eye-locked gaze. Now what was all that about?

A thousand thanks to all the parishioners who signed up and contributed. Here's to another 12 months of quality debate on beat music and more

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