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May 07 - issue 3

Dearly Bewildered

In my rounds of the parish the evidence of rock and roll fatherhood is never far away – the tiny infant called Layla, the family ticket to the Cornbury Festival or the small boy being driven to his guitar lesson in the back of a large off road vehicle. Today's father scans his children for any sign of interest in rock and fans the spark energtically. It was not always so. There was a time when fathers were ex-army types who would delight in firing off satirical remarks from behind the Daily Telegraph. This week's newsletter is full of examples of Things Dad Said About Rock. Our new picture competition Mentioned In Song is continuing to make great demands of the wider cultural learning of the flock. Nobody has managed to identify the first twenty yet and they've been joined by another ten.

DELIBERATE MISPRONUNCIATION

Parishioner Tom

For at least two decades, every father in the country was duty-bound to refer to Dame Shirley Bassey as "Burly Chassis," a tradition I continue to uphold.

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 Val:

In 1965, in an attempt to belittle Mick Jagger's abilities and success, my father referred to him as "Jag Nicker", and has continued to refer to him in this fashion ever since. Is this a record?

Parishioner Mongo:

The best mispronounciation is more a spoonerism, but has stuck with me ever since he first emerged in the early 80s with the execrable Kiss me (with your mouth) is it actually possible to kiss with anything else? Who penned and performed this ? None other than Stephen Duff Duff Tinny.

BANDS I WOULDN'T CROSS THE STREET TO SEE

Parishioner Brian McLuskey: Oh this is a topic and a half! My father once said to me when I first started listening to Bob Dylan way back in the day that he "wouldn't even go to Condorrat Social Club to hear him" which even in my callow youth I knew was dead wrong of him. However if Coldplay happened to play in that particular venue (which would need to be on a rare night when the resident singer "Mr Condorrat" wasn't already appearing obviously) then that would be a definate night in with a DVD. However could I expand on this discussion? With the festival season coming up surely plenty of parishoners have already avoided crossing the metaphorical street to see some big names? My own experience of this was in 1998 at "Glasto." The man formerly known as the "fat dancer" was due to appear on the main stage, every single person I was at the festival with was going to see him but I refused.

Coldcut were on at the dance tent at the same time and there was no way I was going to miss them. I still reckon I was right and everyone else was wrong. Mind you if he showed up at Condorrat Social Club I'd be there clutching a bag of rotten fruit...

The Vicar writes: Is this one of those cases where a mildly sceptical attitude hardens into full-blown antipathy thanks to the enthusiasm of everybody else? This probably explains the next post in this thread:

Parishioner Martin Colyer:

The Hold Steady

A band that only exists for rock critics to fawn over. Embarrassingly bad, old enough to know better.

Bruce Springsteen

The voice an awful inflexible cardboard bellow, playing turbocharged skiffle.

Listen again to Hammersmith 75 and wonder where it all went wrong. Reading 'The Grapes of Wrath' started the rot, I'd say...

Travis

Lovely people, I'm sure.

Iggy Pop

Retire. Please.

Jamie Cullum

Jazz? And if not, what?

"I GOTTA FEVER AND THE ONLY PRESCRIPTION IS MORE COWBELL..."

Parishioner Danny Baker fancies this could be the greatest rock spoof all all time. http://tinyurl.com/28nogr

GIG GOING ATTIRE

Parishioner James:

I went to see Eric Clapton at the Budokan in Tokyo in December a few years ago. We were in the back row upstairs (which is not as far from the stage at the Budokan as it sounds). I have seen lots of shows at the same venue but, for some unknown reason, on that night it was freezing cold. People had their coats done up (some with hoods up) plus scarfs and gloves on and were still shivering. Rather than wishing I had taken an extra jumper, I wish I had taken an extra coat. I cannot remember being so cold at a concert (or even indoors).

Parishioner Jon:

Gulp. I'm over 40 and wore jeans and white trainers to a gig only recently. But it was the Waterson family's Mighty River Of Song at the Royal Albert Hall, so I don't think anyone there was in a position to judge. I mean, Robyn Hitchock attended in an emerald green suit...

Parishioner Ken:

In my youth I would occasionally attend gigs at Deeside Leisure Centre or, to give it the proper title, 'Deeside bloody ice-rink with some cheap carpet rolled over the ice'. The carpet might have stopped you slipping but possessed little power of insulation. I saw Whitesnake there on a night when 4 inches of snow fell outside, and it was still colder inside the gig.

Parishioner Mark:

...to Camel at Reading Town Hall in the early seventies. They were performing, highly appropriately, The Snow Goose, in full, in January, it was bitter out and the considerate folk at the town hall had decided the heating wouldn't be necessary for that evening. It was one of those nights when it seems warmer outside. Second thoughts, I wish I'd taken a sleeping bag.

Parishioner Ben:

I'm normally the warmest man on the planet, and rarely take a coat to gigs because I'm also a stereotypical cheap northerner and avoid cloakrooms like the plague (in my youth, I'd change out of my sweat-drenched concert going t-shirt into an extra top I'd hidden somewhere outside the venue). At the recent Midlake concert at the Plug in Sheffield, the air conditioning was switched onto maximum towards the end of their high quality sit-down set, and even with my coat retrieved from the floor and zipped right up, an extra sweater would have been greatly appreciated. Or maybe I'm just getting old, after all I was at a Midlake concert.

MONEY WE HAVE WASTED

Parishioner Alex:

In this age of cheap CD compilations of our favourite tracks, not to mention our adult wages, it is perhaps easy to forget when buying a record was a bit of a treat, and smetimes not always worth it.

I am sure that all of us, in our youth, once purchased a single or LP from our hard-earned cash (or generous allowance, for the posh among you) which, on hearing it, we instantly felt was the most heinous waste of pocket/paper round money, ever.

May I have the privilege of starting the LP rolling with Bowie's 'Pinups'?

At a time when the average LP was about £2.00, this one retailed at about £2.75, and the long-promised gatefold sleeve, full colour booklet and appended lyrics were nowhere to be seen. Single cardboard cover, one slip of grey/blue paper with the lyrics to 'Where have all the good times gone' printed on it, over a picture of Bowie in a boring suit. I'm not saying the LP was all bad, no, Bowie did a cracking cover of 'Sorrow', but the rest suffer from some all-too 70's production and the songs were done infinitely better by the original artists, perhaps 'Sorrow' being the exception.

I'm not saying every other Bowie LP of that period was a complete rip-off, no, quite the opposite, they were brilliant. But this one was surely the most despicable means of separating fans from their cash ever practised by Mr Jones.

THE VICAR SUPPORTS LOCAL TRADERS

Parishioner TJ Worthington:

I'd like to take this opportunity to give a shameless plug to The Memorex Years (http://memorexyears.blogspot.com/), an occasional project involving giving ancient 'ex-Walkman' home-recorded C60s and C90s that have been long since replaced by compact discs etc one last listen before being flung bin-wards.

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