Tuneful Tuesday, On A Friday! :: Songs Which Have An Immediate Impact

You know that sensation when you hear a song for the first time and it gives you such a thrill that you can already envisage a time in the future when you're excited, maybe you're getting ready to go meet a special someone and you know for sure that this is it, this is the evening on which the rest of your life will hinge, this is the night you'll be enthusing about into your dotage, and this song is your soundtrack as you bounce around the house in your fluffiest towel, singing your heart out, dancing like a drugged raccoon and laughing like Lucifer, your boundless optimism pumped to bursting... and as the song comes to an end, your towel falls to the floor and you cheer, because you really have no idea that life will never be this good again. Yeah?

Well, I just found this song chez Boz. I like it. A lot. Video's not bad either...




Three Other Songs That Had Me At Hello…

1. Solid Gold



2. That’s Not My Name




3. No Rain

As a brief aside, I can’t believe I’ve loved that song for so long but never seen the video till now. It made we weep.



I would like to have included Hey Ya too, but embedding of the YouTube video is disabled, so I didn’t, as a protest. (Interestingly, this version of the song has a single word removed for fear of causing offence or corrupting minors. It’s strange because it’s an ordinary word, and not remotely obscene. A word even Jesus used. Can you guess what it is?)

Thanks, Boz!

So.

Which songs had you at hello?

Aww, go on.

The Ringo Starr Jumble Appeal

Ringo Starr, everyone’s favourite surviving Beatle after Paul McCartney, has filmed a short message for his fans. It’s here on the front page of his site.

Wow. What a grouch. Why couldn't he be nice about it? He seems to be under the impression that by adopting a kind of ‘peace and love’ Tourette’s, he can disguise what a thoroughly unpleasant old-man-in-a-mood he is.

This is why I am in complete agreement with Eggymark, a YouTube commenter who says:

After the 20th October - start sending what you can, he's obviously desperate for fan mail. I’ve never sent him anything, and was surprised to see he is still alive - but I’m organising a crate of jumble for the old boy to cheer him up.

Help Eggymark irritate this already dangerously crabby millionaire. Send what you can:

Ringo Starr
1541 Ocean Avenue
Suite 200
Santa Monica, CA
90401
USA

Telly Which Isn’t All Evil :: That’s Not My Name

I’ve just fallen head over heels in love with a song and I want nothing more than to share it with you like an insidious if garishly ostranenic viral marketeer. Eat my sentence.

So I was watching last week’s Jonathan Ross on television, diligently utilising the frankly futuristic ‘watch last week’s television’ function, and I was ecstatically drawn in. I kind of want to be Robert Downey Jr, which is maybe a bit odd, and Michael Aspel was nothing less than adorable, playing a kind of Green Room sleeping bag, all fusty and sweetly grateful to be unpacked for one last roll in the heyday of prime time. Gwyneth Paltrow was wholesome and charming and a good foil for Ross’s outrageousness. He really is a one, and I do admire his inappropriateness. Telling Paltrow that with his wife’s permission, he would fuck her, takes a special kind of confidence. But I don’t want to be Jonathan Ross. He can be quite annoying. I want to be Robert Downey Jr.

So anyway, there I was all caught up in the well-crafted PR drama of it all, when Gwynnie was packed off with her Guinness (kerching!) and it was time for Music For Young People to play out the show. So naturally I turned down the TV and carried on reading about Wing Chun Kung Fu (which Robert does). (And is brilliant at.) Then I realised I was being slowly hypnotised by the music. I watched for a while, and then I turned up the volume. Then I rewound it and watched it three times from the beginning. What it was, was, I fell in love with it. That’s what it was.

A couple of times, it actually made me cry. It was glorious. It also made me wonder if maybe there was something somehow somewhere wrong, or a little peculiar in that. I decided that no, there wasn’t, and that I was merely massively moved by the music, by the mesmerising passion of the performance, and maybe also by the clump of hash that Keith left behind last night.

Whatever. Here it is on the life-changingly brilliant YouTube (kerching!):



Actually, I can see how some might find it rather annoying and that over time – maybe not even that much time – it could become every bit as annoying as Oh Shitting Mickey. But for the moment I – as they say – am all over it.

It does however, pale into insignificance, next to this.

Beauty is Skin Deep, But Stupidity Scars

This is old, but I was reminded of it earlier today and it always makes me laugh: