Homonyms #5: Hot Hot Hot (!!!)

For the purposes of this blog, homonyms are different songs with the same title. And for the purposes of my sanity, I'm limiting each post to two songs, however many there may be that fit the bill.

Today's offerings seem very t(r)opical, labouring as we are under freakish June temperatures. Console yourselves with the thought that they won't be freakish in the future...

First up, the disco/party/club staple of our younger days. I have gone for this 80s version by Arrow, because it's the one I remember, rather than the 60s original by The Merrymen (or their hastily re-recorded 80s cash-in). All together now: olé, olé, olé, olé... etc.

And for contrast (who doesn't like contrast?), here are godlike geniuses The Cure, differentiating themselves slightly by adding three exclamation marks to their homonym.

One of these may make you want to embrace the heat. But which, dear reader, which?

Monday Night Nothing

What a lyric Malcolm Middleton wrote here.

On a Monday night I'm nothing
On a Tuesday night I'm nobody
On a Wednesday, Thursday, Friday night I'm sad
Then the weekend comes to haunt me
Of all the places I should be
Reminding me of the best times I ever had

So there's nothing wrong with being alone
No need to call the doctor
Sometimes people need to be by themselves
And there's nothing weird about hating yourself
When you've seen the hours I've spent
Darkness comes and darkness goes, just like my good times went

Old and driving
I'm tired from straying too far
My head won't give me a break
And the rest is making my history
I never seem to make the right decision anytime
I need to crash this piece of shit into a tree that fits

So I don't know how to finish this song
I'm happy now but for how long
I've a sad tune and I'll have to keep the tone
Well it's only a matter of time before I feel like shit again
I'm a happy army marching to defeat

Blue Friday: You Might Be Happy Someday

I bang on about The Reds, Pinks and Purples (aka Glenn Donaldson) a lot, but make no apology for that.

This little slice of Marr-inflected melancholy is from 2020. I would say enjoy, but that doesn't seem quite the right sentiment.

You might be happy someday
But for now you're a sad mistake
The moon is way too bright
It's the dead of night, you're still awake
Just when you think it's looking up
Maybe you haven't failed enough

They burned your page in the book of love
That's a pain you weren't aware of

You might be someone someday
But for now you're clearly worse
You could always turn their heads around
Now your looks are just a curse

Get yourself to the hospital
Your so-called friends
They don't care at all
They don't care at all
They don't care at all

You might be happy someday
And things are gonna go your way
Go your way

Homonyms #4: In The City

For the purposes of this blog, homonyms are simply different songs with the same title. And for the purposes of my sanity, I'm limiting each post to two songs, however many there may be that fit the bill.

Today, a little something from The Who's proto-concept album A Quick One. Unusually for the band, In The City was written by Keith and John; indeed, only they originally played on it, though Pete added some overdubbed guitar later. A bit Beach-Boys-lite in places, it was originally the B-side to I'm a Boy in 1965, before making it onto the album a year later.

And then there's The Jam's debut single, a song that needs no further introduction. Now I'm not saying Weller is a magpie (I've said that before) but listen carefully to The Who track from around the 1m45 mark, then get into The Jam's opening line... it's just a tiny snippet, but it's note for note. Anyway, forget that - this is still fantastic, nearly 50 years later. Will it ever not be?

Other artists with noteworthy songs called In The City, to name but a few, include: Madness (brilliant), Razorlight (not brilliant), Adamski (not for me), Elastica (not their best) and, er, Hanson (not as bad as you might expect).

Sunrise, sunset

Amusements Minor is growing up fast. As I type this, he's about to sit down for his final GCSE, after which he will leave his current high school. He is celebrating this evening, not with his parents, but by going for a walk with another new development, his girlfriend. Sixth form and a new school awaits. Life awaits. It's all good but, you know...

Now I know that ought to make me think of this...

...but because of my exact age, it makes me think of this. If nothing else, it proves that even soft rock MOR ballsackery can sometimes be okay. Sorry (not sorry) but, as Rol says, sometimes you just have to irk the musos.

Blue Friday: Can't Let Go

This unremarkable cherry tree has been a part of my life as long as I can remember.

When I was young it had two other boughs going off in different directions, and the whole thing was sufficiently big and strong enough to support a treehouse that my father built out of reclaimed wood. The treehouse had a door on the side facing the farmer's field at the end of the garden, and a little hatch on the garden side that you could climb out and from there, grabbing hold of a stub of branch that just happened to be in the perfect place, swing out and drop down to the grass below. It felt massive, that drop, but can't have been much more than six or seven feet. Over time, the skeletal frames of very old and very broken TV sets were acquired from who knows where, and carted up into the treehouse. There, I would occupy myself removing the glass vacuum tubes (for yes, these were pre-transistor), and consider myself quite the scientist or, perhaps, an inventor.

Every summer, we'd get the big ladder out of the shed, unfold it to its maximum length, and clamber up and over the tree (and treehouse), picking cherries, trying to get the best of the crop before the birds did. I can still feel the sun-warmed felt of the treehouse roof under my fingertips, and the sticky spots where birds had deposited cherry stones.

When my dog died after a short illness, I was heartbroken and had the day off school, despite being in what would now be called Year 11. We buried him under the tree that evening. Dad had called in a favour from someone at work, and came home with a small, simple cross made from two pieces of aluminium, riveted together in the middle. It still marks the spot.

As I got older, the treehouse came down and, later, so did two of the boughs, as they became increasingly unstable and precarious in high winds. And no-one has picked cherries from this tree in a very long time now, except maybe the birds. Even they don't get many - it's almost like the tree has no more fruit to give.

The tree still stands though, for now, and still manages a decent show of blossom every year. I marvel at its longevity and, as I mow around it on visits to see my folks, drift back through the years looking at my dog's tarnished silver cross. Inevitably there will come a time, in the not-too-distant future, when this tree is not a part of my life any more, except in memory. But for now, and until then, it still casts spells as well as shadows.

This is Can't Let Go by The Divine Comedy, from last year's album Rainy Sunday Afternoon.

Homonyms #3: One Love

For the purposes of this blog, homonyms are simply different songs with the same title. And for the purposes of my sanity, I'm limiting each post to two songs, however many there may be that fit the bill.

Today, a suggestion from the Blogfather, JC, at the inestimable (New) Vinyl Villain, specifically One Love by Bob Marley & The Wailers (much loved by Amusements Minor) and also One Love by The Stone Roses (much loved by me, not least for its ability to conjure a summer job working in a high street electrical store, where MTV played it every hour on the satellite TV demo set-up).

For completeness, and to do him justice, I should add that JC also noted songs by Massive Attack and Nas of the same name. It's me that's added the two homonym rule.

TLAP: Athletic Run Wild IPA

Here we go with another worthless alcohol-free ale review. God help us all.

Athletic Run Wild IPA

What's it like? I had high hopes for this. After all, the Athletic Brewing Company website is keen to highlight how many awards it has won. And you know what? It's alright. Not stellar, not offensive, but alright. It has a hint of generic citrus to it, but I was expecting a little more hoppiness for what is marketed as an IPA. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned. Biggest problem though is common to a lot of low and alcohol-free beers: would you even know you were drinking an ale, if not for the visual reinforcement of seeing it in a glass? I drank this straight from a can, heathen that I am, and was grateful for the label to tell me what I was having.

Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.

Would I drink more than one? Maybe.

Would I drink it all night? Probably not.

Stats: 0.5% ABV. Calories 17 kcal/100ml. Currently £5 for 4x 330ml cans, from Tesco

Stars: ★★★⯪☆

A song to end, as usual. Should I go with athletic or running wild? How about both? This is Wild Wolves by Athlete and it's quite like the ale: inoffensive, serviceable but a bit anodyne. Sorry.

Randcamp: Junebug

Here we go again, another trio of otherwise unheard but thematically linked songs from the sonic smorgasbord that is Bandcamp. Randcamp, in other words. What would "Junebug" throw up, I wondered? Here are three of the better search results.

The splendidly-named Couples Therapy are a four-piece from Brighton, making what they describe as "melodic punk". I'm not sure I agree with that description, even if I'm also not sure what would be better. Regardless, there are moments in their Junebug that don't make me want to punch myself in the ears, even if it does overstay its welcome.

Paul Sticca is from Massachusetts. His Junebug is a hazy acoustic drone, with a decidedly alt-country vocal delivery and a little bit of plaintive harmonica. Does not overstay its welcome.

Kitner are also from Massachusetts, specifically Boston. There are moments in their take on Junebug that put me slightly me in mind of the Goo-Goo Dolls, at least in some of the power-pop guitar chords. Overstaying a welcome? What welcome?

Which junebug are you pleased to hear buzzing around? And which has you reaching for the fly-swatter?

Homonyms #2 - I Can't Help Myself

In linguistics, homonyms are words which are either homographs — words that mean different things but have the same spelling — or homophones — words that mean different things but have the same pronunciation. For the purposes of this blog, however, homonyms are simply different songs with the same title.

To whit, here's a slice of classic Holland-Dozier-Holland Motown from the Four Tops, and a very different but no less classic few minutes of unparalleled 90s indie from Gene, both called I Can't Help Myself. Only one has the subtitle Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch though...

Not the first time I've blogged different versions of the Gene track, but I make no apologies for that. Anyway, which homonym leaves you most unable to help yourself?

TLAP: Theakston Nowt Peculier

Sigh: yet another pointless alcohol-free ale review. Don't worry, there won't be too many more of these.

Theakston Nowt Peculier

What's it like? Aside from winning the prize for best pun name for an alcohol-free version of an established ale, this is actually alright. It's a 0.0% version of the well-established Old Peculier and, unlike some other AF clones of well-loved beers, pulls off the dealcoholising trick without losing the identifiable taste of the source brand. The result is a rich, dark, fruity ale that isn't too sweet and slips down quite nicely. Whisper it quietly but I think I prefer it to Old Peculier.

Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.

Would I drink more than one? Yes.

Would I drink it all night? Possibly.

Stats: 0.0% ABV. Calories 26 kcal/100ml. Currently £2.25 for a 500ml bottle, from Sainsbury's

Stars: ★★★★☆

A song, then, for a rich and peculier brew. Only one choice, I guess, from a band with Yorkshire roots (just like the brewery).

Homonyms #1: Monochrome

In linguistics, Wikipedia tells us, homonyms are words which are either homographs — words that mean different things but have the same spelling — or homophones — words that mean different things but have the same pronunciation.

For the purposes of this blog, homonyms are different songs with the same title, and a shabby excuse for a new occasional series to keep this shambles ticking over.

I was reminded by Strangeways' excellent recent ICA post at The New Vinyl Villain of The Sundays' Monochrome, which in turn brought to mind the more recent Wedding Present track of the same name. So here they both are.

Which most floats your boat? Runaround... now!

What do I know?

"But Dad, it's awful!"

"I think it might do alright. It's very ... Eurovision."

So ran the conversation between Amusements Minor and myself in the run-up to yesterday's contest, discussing the UK's entry, Eins, Zwei, Drei by Look Mum, No Computer, aka Sam Battle.

One point from the judges.

No points from the public.

25th and stone cold last.

What do I know?

The sound of all good things breaking

The comments on the last post about anyone Reform-related being hoist by their own petard made me think of this song. Sometimes it's hard not to just agree with The Decemberists that Everything is Awful.

Everything, everything, everything... everything is awful
Oh everything, everything, everything ... everything is awful
Everything is awful, everything is

What's that crashing sound
That follows us around?
That's the sound of all things good breaking
Put your fears to rest
You know it's for the best
As a choir of angels sings

Everything, everything, everything... everything is awful
Oh everything, everything, everything ... everything is awful
Everything is awful, everything is

I know you've worked so hard
To hoist your own petard
Must be so nice, the point caught in your side
Lay down your heavy head
It's safer hid in bed
And let those voices ring

Everything, everything, everything... everything is awful
Oh everything, everything, everything ... everything is awful
Everything is awful, everything is

La la la la la
La la la la awful
Everything is
La la la la la
La la la la awful
Would you kindly keep it down?
La la la la la
La la la la awful
Just try to get some sleep
La la la la la
La la la la awful
Everything is

Mirrored bubbles

One of many problems with social media and the act of "following" others is that you tend to only follow those that align with your orthodoxy. This leads to the inevitable mirrored bubble, whereby you only see or are exposed to that which you already believe or feel.

It's not much better, for me at least, in the real world. I work in a liberal setting and live in a semi-affluent rural location, close to a small, famously liberal, outward-looking, welcoming city. It's another mirror for me, basically.

So the apparent scale of Reform's success in yesterday's council elections has taken me somewhat by surprise. I was expecting them to do well - I try to get my news from reliable, unbiased sources, and that had prepared me for the batrachoidal one having something to gloat about. But that they would do quite so well? I wasn't really ready for that. Why? Because I, in my mirrored bubble, couldn't believe that that many people could be so blind...

How has it come to this? Reform UK plc (for they are a public limited company - really, follow the money, it's shocking bordering on corrupt) has successfully coralled a disparate bunch of chancers, bigots, failed Tories (all of whom have hitched their wagons to Reform purely to keep their personal gravy trains running) and the blatantly self-interested into a party, financed it fantastically (with lots of questionable donors and donations), hit upon a single issue (not wanting "them" over "here") with which to engage a section of the electorate, and then fabricated a tissue of soundbites, preposterous claims and lies to grow their fan base. And it really is about fandom, and the Farage cult. That, and money (for him and his mates/donors/cronies, but not for you).

Speaking of the massive cult, when, if ever, has such a wealthy, entitled, privately-educated member of the elite (that he claims to deride) ever managed to convince the working (wo)man, so successfully, that he is their guy? To the extent that they are lining up to vote for him and his own self-interest, and contrary to their own needs? Why have an essentially decent person who is basically trying to do the right thing, and accept that this is a long-term project, when you can have a celebrity caricature, promising instant solutions, whose only real interest in politics is what he can get out of it for himself, and to hell with Joe Public? What terrible madness is this?

I just don't get it. At most, the next general election is three years away. We are sleepwalking into a world of PM Nige, and that is a genuinely disturbing prospect. The followers of chaos, out of control indeed...

They're going wild, the call came in
At early morning predawn then
The followers of chaos, out of control
They're numbering the monkeys
The monkeys and the monkeys
The followers of chaos, out of control

The call came in to party central
A meeting of the green and simple
Try to tell us something we don't know

They're meeting at the monument
The call came in, the monument
To liberty and honour under the honour roll
They gathered up the cages
The cages and courageous
The followers of chaos, out of control

The call came in to party central
A meeting of the green and simple
Try to tell us something we don't know

Disturbance at the Heron House
A stampede at the monument
To liberty and honour under the honour roll
Just a gathering of grunts and greens (Just)
The cogs and grunts and hirelings
A meeting of a mean idea to hold

Feeding time has come and gone
They'll lose their heart and head for home
Try to tell us something we don't know
We don't know, everyone allowed
Ooh, everyone allowed
Everyone allowed

TLAP: Bear Island Noughty Bear 0.5% IPA

Sigh: another pointless alcohol-free ale review. Anyway, there I was, in a lovely country pub in my old stomping ground, looking for something light to accompany dinner. Behold!

Bear Island Noughty Bear 0.5% IPA

What's it like? Bear Island is the umbrella name given by esteemed Faversham brewery Shepherd Neame to all their alcohol-free offerings, with Noughty Bear (see what they did there?) being their IPA. I was a little tentative, as I haven't always got on too well with some Shepherd Neame ales, despite being a Man of Kent myself. And I was sort of right to be cautious; whilst the tasting notes claimed "the taste of sweet mangos, hints of passion fruit and tart grapefruit", frankly I struggled to detect too much of them. And it's a very dry ale, if you know what I mean. Don't get me wrong, it was inoffensive, and whilst I clearly liked it enough to have two, that was mostly because I was just very thirsty. It's alright, but it won't win prizes.

Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.

Would I drink more than one? At a push.

Would I drink it all night? No, it's too dry.

Stats: 0.5% ABV. Calories 21 kcal/100ml. Currently £20 for twelve 330ml bottles, direct from Shepherd Neame

Stars: ★★★⯪☆

A song, then, to keep my last half dozen readers coming back. Should I go with "nought" or "bear"? How about Bear by The Antlers? All together now, "We're too old. We're not old, old at all. Just too old..."

At dead of night

Don't worry, I'm not about to launch into another series of Cover Charge (too much work, not in the mood). But here is a cover version: Electric Soft Parade with their interpretation of Jealousy by The Pet Shop Boys. It was released on a 2008 compilation Rewind - The 80's Cover Project (which also includes Northern Portrait covering Cliff Richard, can you believe?)

Anyway, here's ESP adding darkness to PSB's already-dark source material. It's right up my street today.

At dead of night, when strangers roam
The streets in search of anyone who'll take them home
I lie alone, the clock strikes three
And anyone who wanted to could contact me
At dead of night, 'til break of day
Endless thoughts and questions keep me awake
It's much too late

Where've you been? Who've you seen?
You didn't call when you said you would
Do you lie? Do you try
To keep in touch? You know you should
I've tried to see your point of view
But could not hear or see for jealousy

I never knew time passed so slow
I wish I'd never met you, or that I could bear to let you go
At dead of night, 'til break of day
Endless thoughts and questions keep me awake
It's much too late

Where've you been? Who've you seen?
You didn't call when you said you would
Do you lie? Do you try
To keep in touch? You know you could
I've tried to see your point of view
But could not hear or see for jealousy

I never knew 'til I met you

Randcamp: Mayday

Searching Bandcamp for "Mayday" again throws up quite a lot of electronica and techno, most of which I swerved in researching this. But here are three other tracks for your spring festival. I trust you gathered greenery and wildflowers last night, to bring in the May?

Wires & Lights are a Berlin-based four-piece who, I'm willing to bet, listened to a fair amount of Joy Division in their formative years.

I think this is a first for me, featuring an artist from Argentina. Ozimov hail from Buenos Aires, which hasn't stopped them evincing the sounds of peak 80s Jean Michel Jarre on their Mayday.

Off to Toronto next, where High wobble on the tightrope between late 90s indie guitars and distressing soft-rock ballsackery, before falling off on the wrong side. In my view.

Three Randcamp choices for your 1st of May. Which, if any, might you still recall by the end of the Bank Holiday weekend?

What headphones were made for

Eighteen years after Weller at the BBC comes another compilation of Beeb TV and radio recordings by the Modfather, imaginatively entitled Weller at the BBC Volume 2. It's a 3-CD set of 48 tracks spanning that period, and it's mostly excellent, occasionally just good. His cover of Billie Eilish's What Was I Made For?, recorded in 2024 for Jo Whiley's Radio 2 Sofa Sessions, is a real highlight, and perfect for a certain state of mind. See what you think.

As someone who, many years ago and in a former life, used to sell hi-fi, I was quietly pleased to note Paul's headphones in this video. They are Beyerdynamic DT 770 PRO and, if you look really closely, you can see they are the 80 Ohm impedance variant, as you might expect in a studio. Let me tell you, these will sound absolutely fantastic. I used to love Beyerdynamic headphones, and they were an easy sell to customers looking at high-end kit - all you had to do was get them to take a listen, and they'd be getting their wallets out. Not cheap, but worth it.

Of course I've long since moved on from the world of hi-fi staff discount, so have to content myself with more modest kit. I have some very cheap unbranded earpods for commuting, which are okay. I also have some Aftershokz AS600 bone-conduction headphones for cycling, but don't use those very often, excellent though they are. For more serious wire-free listening, I have a pair of Sony WH-CH720N Bluetooth cans, which perform some pretty amazing noise-cancelling wizardry whilst also delivering proper sound. Best of all, if I'm at New Amusement Towers and don't mind being tethered, I have a pair of cabled Sony MDR-10RC which, though getting on a bit now, might be the best headphones I've ever had, even if they lack the 720N's out-and-about real-world abilities.

What about you, what are your headphone weapons of choice?

TLAP: Big Drop Brewing Co. Pine Trail Pale Ale

Sorry, I've got naff-all else to write, so here's another alcohol-free ale review. You know how the story starts, of course. Me, in a boutique hotel bar, asking more in hope than expectation if they have any low- or no-alcohol bitter. They had two, one of which I'd had before, so I ordered the other one, which was...

Big Drop Brewing Co. Pine Trail Pale Ale

What's it like? I've featured Big Drop's AF IPA before, and rated it highly, only bemoaning the fact that I sort of forgot I was having a beer. It's the same with this pale ale. It goes down very easily indeed, and has a hint of lime that made it doubly refreshing for the weary cyclist. If you're looking for a strong bitter taste, you might need to look elsewhere. Ditto if you're cash-strapped, as I was charged £5.75 for a 330ml bottle (but then that might have been down to my pretentious surroundings). That said, this ticks plenty of boxes, and I can easily envisage quaffing several on a hot summer's evening.

Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.

Would I drink more than one? Yes.

Would I drink it all night? Possibly (in a cheaper pub).

Stats: 0.5% ABV. Calories 18.5 kcal/100ml. Currently £24.99 for a dozen at Big Drop Brewing Co.'s Amazon store

Stars: ★★★★☆

There's only one song to feature for a pale ale, right? Trouble is, I couldn't decide whether to go for the Velvet Underground original or REM's cover. Bollocks to it, have both.

If I could only keep one of those, I'd take REM's version. I know that's probably heresy, but I don't care.