Seb Palmer

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   
    They may not mean to, but they do.   
They fill you with the faults they had
    And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
    By fools in old-style hats and coats,   
Who half the time were soppy-stern
    And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
    It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
    And don’t have any kids yourself.

If I had been Larkin’s editor at the time, or a friend or confidante, that he might’ve road tested this on, I’d’ve advised him to ditch verses two and three.

Verse one is brilliantly pithy and potent. After that it all withers on the vine. ‘Man hands on… coastal shelf’ is good, clever poetry, but verse one simply doesn’t need it.

Especially not the saccharine milksop climb-down of verse two’s ‘But they were…’ True, perhaps. But anodyne. Like taking a pair of secateurs to the Prime Minoan Bull that is verse one.

* Not the guy who said that the greatest one could achieve in this life was ‘To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.’

It’s fun to hear a great song in several different versions. I was actually listening to different versions of Curtis Mayfield’s sublime Move On Up when I stumbled across the subject of this ear post!

The one at the tippity-top of this post is, I think, the first version I heard. A reggae ‘ting, by One Blood. I’m not sure how the very first version of this number sounded. Maybe in the course of doing this post I’ll find out?

A much more recent and fairly faithful rendition can be enjoyed below, courtesy of those Orgōne folk:

And here’s the great Daryl Hall, doing a pop/soul/r’n’b version of it, with a singer called Rumer:

Some folk say there’s no point covering other folks’ songs. I disagree, very strongly; if a song ‘speaks to you’, why not embrace it, like a friend or lover?

Also, the sentiment is one I’m trying to practice, during what’s proving to be a rather difficult spell of my life!

Ok, so a bit of rooting around online yielded the above, William de Vaughan’s 1974 original of this ace tune. He also did a disco version later on…

Also found another reggae version, this time by Winston Curtis:

Though you may not drive 
  a great big Cadillac
Gangsta whitewalls
TV antennas in the back

You may not have a car at all
But remember brothers and sisters
You can still stand tall
Just be thankful for what you've got

Though you may not drive 
  a great big Cadillac
Diamond in the back, sunroof top
Diggin' the scene
  With a gangsta lean
Gangsta whitewalls
TV antennas in the back

You may not have a car at all
But remember brothers and sisters
You can still stand tall
Just be thankful for what you've got

I had a spell of being fascinated with a certain brand of gay porn, from the early ‘70s. Kansas City Trucking, in particular, which I came to – if you’ll pardon the expression – via its very funky intro music.

And thanks to this period of exploration I grew to know and love Jack Wrangler. I’d like to read his autobiography. But I doubt I will, as the only copies I’ve ever seen online are very expensive.

I’m typing this in bed, just having watched Bruce Almighty, round at Hannah’s. The film wasn’t the highlight of our visit, by a long shot. But it was fun, and I might as well review it here and now.

I have to admit that I do love Jim Carrey, and he’s pretty much the perfect actor for this role. Morgan Freeman, meanwhile, is surprisingly credible as God. And, whilst I’m not a big Jenifer Aniston fan, per se, as schmaltzy as her role here is, she does it well.

The titular Bruce (Carrey) is a self-obsessed narcissist, with a persecution complex, who presents the lighter side of the news for a TV station in Buffalo. It takes a brush with God (a Christian God, of sorts) to set him straight.

If, like me, you’re a devout rationalist and sceptic, a ‘humanist and free-thinker’, then the religious or ‘spiritual’ angles of this movie might grate somewhat. But that said, it’s still damnably funny, in places, and has, at its somewhat saccharine heart, a very positive and pleasant message.

If you take the whole religious perspective part with a big bag of salt, as I do, then what remains is still funny, engaging, thought provoking, and well made. Ironically, perhaps, some of the best moments are also some of the least devout, as when Bruce ‘possesses’ first Evan Baxter’s teleprompter, and then Evan’s body.

What I take away from this fun and sometimes very funny movie is not anything remotely theological. I won’t bother taking it apart in relation to that thread. What remains for me, after all the laughing and the tugging of heartstrings, is a reminder to be humble, grateful, thoughtful and generous, and to take personal responsibility for one’s own life, as opposed to wishing for what you don’t have, and taking for granted or not enjoying what you do have.

Anyway, prior to this, Teresa and I enjoyed a lovely smorgasbord type dinner with Hannah, Ali and Sofi. We shared a few tipples, and there was even ‘red velvet’ birthday cake, and a bit of singing, in honour of Teresa’s birthday (the day before).

The food was lovely. And Sofi put some lovely French sounding music on, which set the perfect mood: jazzy accordion, guitar and bass, mostly, in a mellow and sophisticated Parisian café vibe vein.

We watched a fair few Simpsons episodes as well. What terrific fun they are! They almost always touch on themes that can be enjoyed by both big and little kids, such as peer group anxieties in childhood, or ageing in relation to being cool, and how music can be a big part of that. Very relatable.

The Treehouse of Horror ones are particularly funny in a slightly macabre or twisted way. And in a similar (severed) vein, The Itchy & Scratchy Show segments are delightfully and disgustingly hilarious.

It’s very nice to be able to get away from home, and spend some simple humble quality time with family. And it’s gratifying to know that we get along so well and appreciate each others company. If only more of life could be like that!

We hadn’t planned or expected to stay the night. We probably should have. Anyroad, we are doing. And it’s lovely. Thanks Hannah, Ali, Sofi and Teresa what lovely ladies y’all are!

‘Here’s a little number I tossed off recently at the Academy…’ Brilliant! Such a funny little ditty.

This song, and esp’ the way it ends, also reminds me of a pithy little saying attributed to Robin Williams: *

‘See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time.’

* I’ve tried to find out where and when he allegedly said this (I’d previously thought it was either Woody Allen, or maybe even Jasper Carrott!), and – until I found the above video – the best I’d come up with is that he might’ve said it on stage: Live On Broadway (2002).

Pic

I haven’t been playing guitar at all, for ages. And my Yamaha CG-100A has been gathering dust, with a missing D-string, for way too long.

I canvassed opinion on FB, re the best choice for new strings, and D’Addario Pro Arte were clear favourites. Turns out these were what I used last time!

One thing that occurs to me is, given it’s usually the same string that snaps – namely the D – I ought to just get a few of those, individually.

This popped up on Goodreads when I checked in with that app today. A sound bit of advice that resonates down the ages.

A spot of borderline insomnia lead me to watch two horror films last night; Wes Craven’s The Last House On The Left (1972), and the much more recent X (2022), by Ti West.

I have to confess, I enjoyed them both. Craven’s much older film is pretty grim, and follows on ‘nicely’ from Death Wish, in a way, inasmuch as there’s a ‘revenge porn’ aspect.

I won’t synopsise either in any detail here, as there’s plenty of other places where one can read recapitulations of their plots. What they have in common are interlaced themes of sex and violence.

In Last House, which Craven purportedly based on Ingmar Bergman’s brilliantly dark Virgin Spring, we see youthful beauty and innocence destroyed, leading all-American parents to an orgy of violent retribution.

X, by contrast, follows a small film crew and their ‘talent’, set on making a porno flick, who wind up in hillbilly hell, a la Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Actress Mia Goth is both the lone surviving aspiring porn queen, and elderly psychotic murderess, Pearl.

Last House was considered an appalling shocker at the time. And, seen as an exemplar of the ‘video nasty’ phenomenon, was banned in the UK for decades. It all seems pretty tame now. Nasty at times. But massively eclipsed by far more graphic depravity in later years.

It is brutal, undoubtedly, as is X. But both also have some degree of a lighter, even humorous side, as well (esp’ the dumb-ass cop duo in Last House). And so it is that now we have indeed become rather inured to such violence and gore. Indeed, it’s assumed, and correctly so, that many viewers will revel in these once decried aspects.

Both of these films are, I would say, well shot and directed. X is the slicker of the two. And is actually quite beautiful visually at times. And both also manage to be cleverer than they might appear, at first glance.

The one theme that might elevate X above run of the mill horror is that of ageing, in relation to sex, beauty, etc. Sinister old wrinkly evil types aren’t anything new:

But depicting them as libidinous and sexually frustrated/active is a tad more unusual. And the pathos of a once beautiful Southern Belle turned murderous ol’ hag, does have aspects of poignancy, in addition to the more usual ‘yuck’ factor.

Anyway, whatever gets you through the night, as Lennon (and others) have sung… And last night that was, rather unexpectedly, horror movies!

Judged purely on quantity Woody Allen is very clearly my favourite film director. I currently have something in the region of 45 DVDs of his movies, films he appears in, or that are about him.

This blog entry is a place for me to keep track of the stuff by or with/about him, that I don’t yet have. That includes:

• What’s Up Tiger Lily, 1966
• Small Time Crooks, 2000
• Hollywood Ending, 2002
• Scoop, 2006
• To Rome With Love, 2012
• Blue Jasmine, 2013
• Irrational Man, 2015
• Wonder Wheel, 2017
• Rifkin’s Festival, 2020
• Coup de Chance, TBA

I have seen some of the above. And might even have one or two as digital downloads. But I don’t have them as part of my otherwise quite comprehensive Woody DVD collection. Sadly at present finances preclude expanding the collection!

The situation for me, is a bit like it is with Tom Waits; my favourite Waits stuff is everything up to about Rain Dogs/Frank’s Wild Years, maybe even Big Time? Thereafter Tom remains a great artist, but my passionate attachment to or love for his work fades somewhat.

With Woody he really gets going around the early ‘70s, and has a long wide purple patch running way into the 1980s, possibly even the ‘90s. But from the ‘noughties’ on, things have been more hit and miss.

There are occasional gems, like The Curse Of The Jade Scorpion, and Midnight In Paris. But after 1994’s terrific Bullets Over Broadway, I’m no longer compelled by his output, as I am in the years prior to that.