If I had a boat

About the choices we make in life.

Sit Down next to me

I sing myself to sleep
A song from the darkest hour
Secrets I can’t keep
Inside of the day
Swing from high to deep
Extremes of sweet and sour
Hope that God exists
I hope I pray

Drawn by the undertow
My life is out of control
I believe this wave will bear my weight
So let it flow

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Now I’m relieved to hear
That you’ve been to some far out places
It’s hard to carry on
When you feel all alone
Now I’ve swung back down again
It’s worse than it was before
If I hadn’t seen such riches
I could live with being poor

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Those who feel the breath of sadness
Sit down next to me
Those who find they’re touched by madness
Sit down next to me
Those who find themselves ridiculous
Sit down next to me
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears
In love, in fear, in hate

Down
Down

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Oh sit down
Sit down next to me
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down, down
In sympathy

Down

So you think you can tell Heaven from Hell

Hard to think that Pink Floyd could have produced anything better than Dark Side of the Moon but they did - the title song to their subsequent album is probably their finest piece. A lament to the departed Syd Barrett on his downward slide into depression. Close the office door and put this on high - then get back to work. You'll feel better for it.

Trees Road

For whatever reason this always reminds me of Mike's living room.

.....and if the dam breaks open many years too soon....

A song that was ever-present in our teenage years was "American Pie" by Don McLean, flashing into mind as I observe the above photograph of a levee protecting a house from the flooded Yazoo river in Mississippi, United States. "Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry" "But" the levee was dry? Was that not what it was supposed to do?

Scanning Don McLean's official website it reveals that "American Pie” was "partly biographical and partly the story of America during the idealized 1950s and the bleaker 1960s". His description of the political changes during this period give an alternative view of the romanticism we traditionally associate with the swinging sixties.

According to the website, "the 1950s were an era of happiness and affluence for the burgeoning American middle class. Americans had a feeling of optimism about their prospects for the future, and pride in their nation which had emerged victorious from World War II . Sinister forces such as communism were banished". One could ask Don to dwell on the era of McCarthyism here. "Popular music, epitomised through Buddy Holy and his ilk, matched the mood of the nation".

It goes on to surmise that "the 1960s was the antithesis of the previous decade. The exuberant simplicity of the 1950s was displaced by a much more volatile and politically charged atmosphere. The cozy world of white middle class America was disturbed, as civil rights campaigners marched on Washington, D.C., ..... while on the world stage, America’s leading super-power status was being challenged by the Soviet Union, and its military might was being tested by the Vietnamese. Even in music, America soon found itself overrun by a British invasion."

By 1971, America was still deeply troubled and in the opinion of the song’s producer, Ed Freeman, it was the funeral oration for an era.

Meanwhile back in Ireland, we literally couldn't give a fuck, or weren't remotely interested in understanding what the song was about. All we were certain of was that we were going to sing it raucously round the fire in every An Oige hostel we visited and make sure it got our vote for a good airing at every hesitant feel-your-way sixth year party we got to in the mid-seventies - when we had finally freed ourselves from priest-ridden Blackrock and boarders like Tom Gilvarry.

Let's face it, it gave us a real feel-good factor and you know - it stills does. So cast away the chains of career, marriage, fatherhood and medicine and drift back to Blennerville in Kerry in 1974 and the sound of Don McLean drifting over the airwaves from the transistor radio on the top shelf in the sweet shop. And all of life still ahead of us.

The Referee's Alphabet

From our favourites, the fun-loving "Half Man Half Biscuit"

A few years before Barbaric Military Manoeuvers

I met her in a club down in old Soho

Games People Play

Remember this?

Joxer goes to Stuttgart

Christy explains where the whole thing started.

Anyone who says Punk is dead, will be

In the late seventies, music was actually important to us, or certainly to some of us. Let's face it, who you liked or disliked was actually a very fundamental statement about yourself.

To illustrate this, I need only point to Steve Byrne, whose open and honest admission that he liked James Last blew his street cred early on, and condemned him to a life of ridicule and bullying.



Similarly, Gerry's brief flirtation with Sacre Bleu was no more than an aggressive attempt to detract from the hideous mistake he made a few years earlier when choosing the Bay City Rollers. Sacre Bleu were safe ground because no-one knew who these guys were or what kind of music they played. A trawl through the annals of Irish rock reveal that they were formed in 1978, released two singles in 1979 and, maybe not surprisingly, disbanded in January 1980. Probably something to do with that year's big freeze. They also incidentally had a drummer called Al (Harpo) Cowan........



It was little wonder that the odd time Gerry would enquire of them in his "breaking the ice routine", the astonished interviewee, generally dancing around her handbag at the time, would respond with a bewildered "Who?" Inevitably, the next Gerry would see the same mott would be when Brian was pulling the knickers off her in the cloakroom.

Mike's choice of music was more subtle, and more likely to appeal to the fairer sex. The connection between Mike and The Stylistics is explored elsewhere on this blog, but let's not forget that his beautiful rendition of Sundown by Gordon Lightfoot would bring many a long night to a close in the summer of 1976. Guaranteed to send Karsie into a spin.

But back to the advent of Punk which is where I wanted to start.

In 1979 the question was not whether you were into punk or not - it was assumed you were - it was were you "The Clash or The Jam?" Both were part of the revolution in music which we experienced and while only the Clash can be described as a pure punk rock band, both expressed anti-establishment sentiments and spoke of political and social dissatisfaction and in instances, anarchy. Both obviously aware of the imminent arrival of Margaret Thatcher.

I clearly sided with the The Jam, and while their lyrics were softer and less confrontational than other punk bands, they nevertheless delivered a vivid description of life in dull, mundane, seventies England. The Clash were angrier and more immediate, but Weller's language, matched to vibrant sound, was close to perfection.

Cop a load of That's Entertainment:




A police car and a screaming siren
pneumatic drill and ripped up concrete
a baby wailing and a stray dog howling
the screech of brakes and lamplights blinking

Thats entertainment

A smash of glass and the rumble of boots
an electric train and a ripped up phone booth
paint splattered walls and the cry of a tom cat
lights going out and a kick in the balls

Thats entertainment

Days of speed and slow time Mondays
pissing down with rain on a boring Wednesday
watching the news and not eating your tea
a freezing cold flat with damp on the walls

Thats entertainment

Waking up at 6 a.m on a cool warm morning
opening the window and breathing in petrol
an amateur band rehearsing in a nearby yard
watching the telly and thinking 'bout your holidays

Thats entertainment

Waking up from bad dreams and smoking cigarettes
cuddling a warm girl and smelling stale perfume
a hot summers day and sticky black tarmac
feeding ducks in the park and wishing you were far away

Thats entertainment

Two lovers kissing at the scream of midnight
two lovers missing the tranquility of solitude
getting a cab and travelling on buses
reading the graffiti about slash seats and fares

Thats entertainment

The Clash for their part had London's Calling, Rock the Casbah and Should I Stay or Should I go? Gut-wrenching stuff - inspirational - and were it not for the fact hat I was close to qualifying as an accountant, and still wearing clothes bought by my mother for me, I would certainly have thrown caution to the wind and put the safety pins through my eyebrow.

But sadly, I hadn't got the balls. Another big regret in life.

Clearing the floor at Belvedere

Guaranteed to send the girls rushing to the toilets ..........

I thought love was only true in fairytales

Wavin' Flag - South Africa 2010

This is Africa

Go for it Benjamin

You've done it all....

Give us a song, Gerry

It was either this, or The Mountains of Mourne, when our best crooner would get up on stage.

Out on a wild and windy moor

All we need to accompany this track is Gerry gliding around the room, wailing loudly and with arms flailing as he knocks all the birds out of the way.