Firstly, I must apologise for my FriFicin’ failure last week. Life was just too full – both social and professional – and there wasn’t enough time for me to write even 100 words. What do you mean you didn’t even notice I was missing? Read more…
I went to see the new film Roger Waters The Wall last week. It’s a part concert film of an astonishing live performance of the legendary Floyd album and part road movie as Waters travels across Europe in search of the graves of his Father and Grandfather who both fell in different World Wars and both left sons that were barely old enough to remember them. It’s a brilliant film, clearly more so if you’re a fan of the Floyd, and I highly recommend you watch it. It seems you will have to get it on DVD though as it had a one-night-only release around the world.
Anyway, as a result of seeing this I wanted to share a song from The Wall this week. Yes I could have gone with Brick In The Wall pt2 or Comfortably Numb but I’ve gone with this song of loneliness and despair. Its first half is haunting and frightening as the character tries to make sense of the life he has made for himself, and the second half is a perfect acoustic guitar riff. It brings a tear to the eye. It’s a
It’s not all that thumpthumpthump music on this blog you know, sometimes I feature a nice song that you can hear the words to. Yes I know this is terribly radio 2, and there is an inordinate amount of cheesy teeth smiling in the badly-mimed video, but Karen Carpenter has such a sweet mellow voice she could read out the phone book and I’d listen. Add to that the soft spot I have for a bit of steel guitar and you have yourself a solid gold
My love of ska and reggae is well-documented, and this is one of the finest examples of the genre. Beloved of various football clubs, The Liquidator is a classic in every sense of the word. The fantasic walking bassline is one of the most well-known , but it’s all about Winston Wright on the Hammond. Just magnificent. A
As Benjamin Franklin once remarked, nothing is certain except Death and Taxes and Frifric. And whilst no one really looks forward to their obligations regarding the first two, the certainty that Rochelle will send a weekly prompt pic is matched only by the pleasure in opening the email and later by clicking on the blue frog to read everyone’s 100 words.
David Stewart is the phototaker who took this week’s photo this week:
a real thought-provoker. I’ve gone with the following as my offering:
There was a man on our street who kept his curtains shut all day and never ventured outdoors in the light. If you met him at midnight on a full moon, everyone said, he would drink your blood. Then there was the friendly Londoner who always said hello and offered us sweets – the playground all believed he was secretly a gangland hitman.
As adults, of course, we recognise it all as childish rumour and legend.
Until the Londoner’s house, still with its rusting gate and jungle of weeds, appeared on the news. “Fifteen bodies found,” said the ticker, “Pensioner arrested.”
There is a whole subset of british society that finds themselves still awake as 12.45AM every night, listening to Radio 4. And for those people, me included, the shipping forecast is a strangely hypnotic and reassuring end to the day.
Before it begins, after book of the week, Sailing By is played. A 1963 piece written by Ronald Binge. I think the original purpose was for those in boats, listening out at sea, to be able to tune their longwave radios and latch onto the familiar swaying strings amongst the dial full of white noise and half-heard voices. I’m sure it is a comfort for them to hear a slice of home while they may be drifting in the Bay of Biscay or just of the coast of South East Iceland. And it’s a comfort for those of us snuggled in bed too. It’s a reassurance. It’s a slice of Britain. It’s a