2020 Blues

 

Standard 12-bar a la Elvis’ ‘Trouble’

 

Well this is 2020, and it’s not going well

There’s poison in the air and there’s a sad story to tell

The people are all dying, this shit is not a joke,

The PM is a pisshead and his cabinet’s on coke

Ain’t that the truth

They got the 2020 Blues

 

I got a thousand voices shouting at me in my head

A thousand packets of pasta slowly rotting in my shed

I’m panic buying flour and bog roll by the tonne

If I only had the chance I’d panic buy some opium

Blot out the rules

Of the 2020 Blues

 

I got the lockdown blues

I got the lockdown blues

And I’m tryin my best to hide it

But the truth is I can’t abide it

If there’s a wave I’ll ride it

Until I crash inside it

I got the blues

 

I’m eating out to help out, I’m staying a metre away

Don’t take me to task for wearing a mask, I’m doing what they say

I’m sneezing in my elbow, I’m home by 10pm

And then they change the rules and shift the blame to us again

They’re utter fools

Giving me the 2020 Blues

And I’m tryin my best to hide it

But the truth is I can’t abide it

If there’s a wave I’ll ride it

Until I crash inside it

I got the blues

 

I got the lockdown blues

I got the lockdown blues

And I’m tryin my best to hide it

But the truth is I can’t abide it

If there’s a wave I’ll ride it

Until I crash inside it

If there’s a cure I’ll try it

If there’s a vaccine I’ll buy it

But I don’t trust these liars

Let’s set this year on fire

Let’s burn its shoes

And give this 2020 Blues

 

I got the blues

 

Charlie Fall-A-Lot

They called me Charlie Fall-A-Lot,

Cause I was on the floor a lot.

 

I tried my best, it made no sense

I’d stand up straight – then down I went

I'd play up front, I'd get the ball

But as I'd shoot – again, I'd fall.

 

They took me to surgery

To try and solve this mystery

But doctor could find nothing wrong –

I heard her, but my legs had gone

 

They called me Charlie Fall-A-Lot,

Cause I was on the floor a lot.

 

I got the bus that went to town

And sure enough, I fell right down

And on the dusty rusty floor

Underneath the seat, I saw

 

A tiny, shiny, talking flea

Who buzzed and bugged and looked at me:

“Hmm, a boy,” a small voice said,

“Has fallen down, and bonked his head,

 

“What do they call you, fall-down-boy,

Or are you here just to annoy?”

 

Well, this was something new to see.

I’d never met a talking flea.

“I’m Charlie,” I said, cautiously.

“I fall a lot. What’s wrong with me?”

 

The Flea laughed long and squeakily

And I became quite giggly

Then as the bus backfired and burped

I struggled up and sat, alert.

 

“They call me Charlie Fall-a-lot,”

I said. And the flea jumped right up.

 

“I’m sure they do,” said Flea. “But they

Are wrong. You need to calibrate

Yourself. Now listen carefully:

You’ve just got different gravity.

"You’re not falling, but nearly flying,

But right now, friend, there’s no denying

Your skills at this are quite appalling

So yes, it looks like you are falling.

 

“So take heed, Nearly-Fly-A-Lot,

You’re special. Now, this is your stop.”

 

The bus pulled up, and gingerly

I took a step, and two, and three,

And four, and five, and six, and more

And there was no sign of a fall!

 

I waved at Flea, who buzzed right back

And went back to his bus-chair nap.

I stumbled, true, but now I knew

I didn’t fall: I nearly flew.

 

They still call me a Fall-a-lot

And yes, I sometimes do trip up

But I don’t worry anymore

Cause I can – very nearly - soar.

 

 

My 2020 poem...

 ...was something I fully intended to write. I generally do. And there's lots to write about, I guess.

But I think on balance this year was summed up four centuries ago, so I did this instead:

And yes, I have been greenbathing recently.

Avanti!

Santa. You Bastard

Click here to watch me try and channel the Undertones.

And another year’s whizzed right past

With some love and some fire and some pain

I’ve just got one thing to ask:

Can you please stop taking my friends away?

 

But you won’t

Cause you’re a bastard

Santa you bastard  x 3

 

Do you remember that year

I asked for help to get a better body

You gave me a voucher

For a gym pass doing weights with Purple Aki

 

I’m still waiting for my BMX

And you never brought me one

What happened to my action man

With eagle-eye action

 

Was it really so hard

To being me a ZX Spectrum?

Or a small Scalextric set

Everyone else had one

 

But you didn’t

No you didn’t

Cause you’re a bastard

Santa you bastard x 3

 

Too busy in the sweatshop

Working them elves to death

No wonder Rudolph’s nose is red

You’ve punched him til it bled

So fuck you and your sled

 

Not a hint of SNES

Atari, Sega Saturn

Not even a speak and spell

Let alone Playstation

 

I’m ancient now but still the same

So listen to me, fat man

Do your job for once, OK?

And make me into Batman

 

You bastard

You bastard

You bastard

Get bent

 

This year I want

One more poker game

One more smoky whisky

One more cake made for me

One kebab from Ali

One more drumroll four bars long

One more happy bassline

One more Tony Blackburn song

Bring them all back one last time

Bring them all back one last time

You bastard

You bastard

You fat judgemental cunt.

Nobody's Perfect

 Click here for the performance.

Easiest deal in history

Take back our sovereignty

Sunlit uplands for you and me

Well, that’s what Boris said

 

Deal or no deal, call for Noel

Turnips are good for the soul

Wanking over the flagpole

An Empire of perverts

 

Historians in future years

Will see charlatans prey on fear

And misdirected anger: here,

Punch down - scum, it’s their fault

 

So here we are. A lost 12 months

A plague upon us, well, that sucks

You bet Rees-Mogg is making bucks

On shorting the circuit

 

‘Our’ fish are swimming in ‘our’ sea

Oblivious to you and me

But we are told repeatedly

“We’ll fight for the turbot”

 

Pathetic little Eton boys

Play with lives. We’re just toys

Don’t worry, they’ll still get their joys,

These twisted-up fuckheads.

 

A vaccine is here. But it’s not what you think.

I’ve been making it up in my kitchen sink

A moonshine of madness, a vitriolic

End to this Brexit.

 

But I can’t roll it out. I can’t hold it in;

Injecting this shit means that all those cunts win.

So bring it on, wankers. I’m going to sing

When you’re crawling for mercy.

 

Easiest deal in history?

Two million kids here now in poverty

Foodbanks can’t keep up. Beyond parody.

You won’t say they deserve it.

But you’re culpable for it.

So own it. You perverts,

You cokeheads, you liars,

You’ve set us on fire

And justice will be served,

When you least expect it.

 

An oldie from the vaults, pop pickers...

 This just came up as one of those terminally tragic Facebook reminder posts from late 2013 and I quite liked it. This is my albums of 2013, because 2020 was awful.

Here are my greatest albums of 2013 and why, by month:

JANUARY 2013

Felicity's Locket - Turntime

The debut from the Hoxton sextet pressed buttons I didn't know I had with its esperantic wilfulness of broken beats, bad-hearted blues and a welcome dollop of jasmine-pop.

DOWNLOAD: Grime Curves (Part mix)

FEBRUARY

Jaggernaut - As Well As *UCANDU*

Controversial rap-balloon duo Jaggernaut are possibly best known for their intriguing reworking of the kids' nursery rhyme, Nightmare Elements on the Butt of Gruel, but their third long-player, released only on cassette tape, had a quitless burden of immersive techno which utilised the six-five beat to its utmost. That said, its tattered volume rewiring and backwards masked breaks can get a little tiresome without brandy.

DOWNLOAD: Sweetheart Services at the Back of the Wideside

MARCH

Cannaquit Causes - XXVIII

Blood-metallers Cannaquit Causes stirred the shit out of the genre with an album tuned down six octaves. No instructions came with the CD-only release, which required turning up to full volume on an industrial sound system and upsampling fifty clicks before audibility resumed. The natural successors, for sure, to luminaries like Jesus Cunt and Exploded Godspunk.

DOWNLOAD: Satan FUCK

APRIL

Bill Carlos and the Funk Fifty - Frinkadelic Mysteries

Pure psych-gospel indulgence, best described as Cheggers on a motorbike throwing petrol at Alabama 3 - and drinking the lighter fluid.

DOWNLOAD: Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! (Pound Me Baby!)

MAY

Mondo Italiano - Con Peporoncino

Many people (myself included) felt this to be Jello Biafra messing about in a pretend project. but apparently not so - it was merely a normal singer played at 45 rather than 33rpm, which was erroneously printed in the middle of the record itself. Still, either way its blend of nutman guitars and gargantuan harmonics blasted its own ass out of the water, if the water was music and its ass was a song.

DOWNLOAD: Chickenshit Conformist (KFC in da Hoos)

JUNE

Three More Deaths - Y O Y O Y (aka 'The Red Beast')

Part of the Neue Deutsche Wichse movement, TMD's mash-up of spamtronica and electric monkeyballing bopped the eyes from many dancefloors from Berlin to Brussels over the summer, including the unforgettable Red Beast Dance, which swept the hostelries of the continent for six sweet weeks.

DOWNLOAD: Hotel KKKalifornia Mit Ein Pimmel

JULY

Cheeky Girls - Cheeky Girls 

This ironic re-rendering of the kitsch Eastern European duo's entire first album was apparently undertaken by all the original members, producers, wrtiters, artists - and was so brilliantly realised that it was seen as true genius. Indeed, every single aspect of this postmodern take on the initial album was so perfectly re-constituted - dodgy vocals, garish arrangements, artwork, stickers, advertising campaign - that it was all but indistinguishable from the original. A pop art classic, then, with Warholian overtones and a sense of reclamation of noise unseen since Marinetti. Possibly the highlight of the year.

DOWNLOAD: (We are) The Cheeky Girls (Touch My Bum)

AUGUST

Sampological Fermentation - Greed, Greed and Toffee too

The 40th anniversary of the post-hippy space wizards went by without much ostentation, which is entirely in keeping with the fact that all of the original members died in 1972. However, this new album - the 15th since then - recovers more of the inter-take banter of those original sessions (which made up the 'Formica Blues' LP). The lo-heated bonks of microphones and muffled swearing at broken strings makes this a music concrete classic.

DOWNLOAD: Muff Says Bum

SEPTEMBER

Harmony in the UK - Babes

Not many people expected a bona fide soul-pop hit from this, the younger sisters of the cousins of the three girls that originally got sacked from the studio the day before the Sugababes' first incarnation told their management that they wanted to book an entirely different studio. But were we really surprised? Godfrey knows, as they would no doubt trill.

DOWNLOAD: Godfrey (Wop bob Shoop Song)

OCTOBER

The Oafs - Wizzlestop

Fire-branded West Country bottle-pranging tar-coated pop-fist weazel-whistle-wang bike-shed supermarket-sham diogenes-free burble.

DOWNLOAD: Tree, O Tree. Wherefore the Bee? Love My Don't, Dingle a Fag

NOVEMBER

Unfettered Auld Screamers feat. Shirley Brass - Ai Contempo - No Me Culo

Jumping up on the shoulders of all that had come before, with a nice line in bossa-nova style biblical meringue rock, the Screamers' huge sound and eighteen string guitar work recalled Yngwie and Vai throttling a pig whilst Ozzy stuck himself in the gonads with an errant dog tooth. The facts are that many bands have attained such a sound, but none with as little panache as the UAS. Not that their enormous-waisted fanclub cares; the kebabs still flow either way. One for the ladies.

DOWNLOAD: Uuuuuuuuuuuurgh

DECEMBER

B.B. Sacapuntas - Eight More Ways to Tulsa (And I'm Gone)

A Christmas album like no other from the notoriously eight-toothed pootler, this time roping in friends as diverse as Jackson Broon, Thom York, Paul Mackartnee and Bruce Li for the cover shot, which asymetrically recalls both Sgt Pfeffer and a hole. Three times around, this becomes an actual real life golem which will perform your every whim - remember, though, cats can't tell the difference. You dig?

DOWNLOAD: The night (the child) was born (in a stable) in Beth(le)he(m) (And I cried)