(Type type type…) “‘And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna…autumn?’ Hmmmnn, this might need some work…”

You know how it is: it’s 2am, you can’t sleep and you’re on the internet copying and pasting song lyrics into foreign languages and then back again using Babelfish.yahoo.com. I was wondering whether some legendarily bad (and downright weird) lyrics might be improved by being subjected to the aforementioned process. Let’s look at some of the results shall we?*

“Life” by Des’ree into Traditional Chinese and back:

Traditional Chinese version! Oh! Oh life! Oh life! I’m is afraid dark is specially, when I’m in park, and there’ s nobody, oh I obtains shivers. My don’t wants to look at the ghost, It’s a frightened most I Sight; and a rather edible toast onlooking in the evening news. Chorus: Life, oh life! Oh life! Oh life! doo, Doot doot dooo… Life, oh life! Oh life! Oh life! doo doot doo I’m superstitious girl I’m is worst in the world do not walk under the ladder, I retain rabbit’s tail. I’ll adopts you to dare, any place; Gives the place, I’ll in there, caper bungee, I don’t cared! Chorus life oh life… Therefore after all mediates does me to know I’ m is not an only life may indeed be a pleasure, if you want truly. Sometimes occupies your dream, Ain’t is equally easy to look like its as if you to want the flight entire world, in a beautiful balloon.

“Love Plus One” by Haircut 100 into Russian and back:

The I, I did go to the right [bez] to speak before the meeting, before the meeting where it does go hence? Descent to the fear of lake i? Ay ah ah ah ah ah Ay ah ah ah ah ah after this I do cause you do ring love la La of the ring of the ring of ring (ring) (ring) (ring) (ring) plus one you do ring the ring of the ring of ring (ring) (ring) (ring) (ring) when I to call love give love a certain soul if I I can be sufficiently so bold where it does go hence? Descent to the fear of lake i? Ay ah ah ah ah ah Ay ah ah ah ah ah after this I cause you ring love la La of the ring of the ring of ring (ring) (ring) (ring) (ring) plus one you ring the ring of the ring of ring (ring) (ring) (ring) (ring) when I to call love you will fall in love with plus one

“Get Down” by Gilbert O’Sullivan into Italian and back:

To the once Said Piece of furniture before you And the won the tit does not say it more It does not reduce, it reduces, it reduces. You with reference to a defective child of the dog. But I want still it ’round the crawled dates When jumped on your feet Thus reduce, reduce, reduce. Maintain your hands she I’m rigorously from the limits. Once I have drunk a little wine happy. Era how much could be, happy it could have been. Now I’ the m. As soon as gradice a cat on a warm roof of the latta Child what you thinks you’ king doin’ to me once Said before you. And the won the t he does not say it more. Thus does not reduce, they reduce, they reduce. You with reference to a defective child of the dog. But I want still it ’round around. Still I around want aye aye aye the don’t to it; elasticity of t a maledizione and I’d the gradice if you can to. Reduces, reduces, reduces you ‘king defective child of the dog. But I want still it ’round. Once I have drunk a little wine happy Era how much could be, happy it could have been Now I’ the m as soon as gradice a cat on a warm roof of the latta Child what you thinks you’ king doin’ to me once Said before you And the won’ the t he does not say it more Thus does not reduce, they reduce, they reduce You’ with reference to a defective child of the dog But I want still it ’round around.

“My Humps” by Black Eyed Peas into German and back:

Which it gon’ do you do with this whole Trödel? This whole Trödel within your trunk? I’m a received, received, received, receive, you drunk, to receiving you you love drunk away from my embossment. My embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my attractive small lumps (examination it out) I drives these moved brothers, I does it on the daily paper, you treats me really friendly, you buys me to all these freezes. Dolce & Gabbana, Fendi and Donna Karan, are them sharin’ Their whole money received wearin’ to me; Fly brother I ain’ askin, you say that they love my donkey `n, seven jeans, applicable Religion’ to t; s, I says No., but they hold givin’ Thus hold I takin’ And no I ain’ t taken we can on datin’ hold; I hold on demonstrating. My love (love), my love, my love, my love (love) you love my lady lumps (love), my embossment, my embossment, my embossment (love), my embossments received it you, She’ s received expenditure to me. (Oh) Spendin’ Their whole money on me and expenditure time on me. She’ s received spendin’ to me;. (Oh) Spendin’ Their whole money on me, up on me, on me which it gon’ do you do with this whole Trödel? This whole Trödelinnere trunk? I’ MA received, received, received, receive, you drunk, to receiving you you love drunk away from my embossment. Which it gon’ do you do with this whole donkey? These whole donkeys within it jeans? I’ m form, form, form, form you for cry forming you you cry, form you you cry. Lettuce of my embossment (ha), my embossment, my embossment, my embossment (which). My embossment, my embossment, my embossment (ha), my attractive lady lumps (examination it out) I met a girl down to the Disco. She said he, he, he Yea let’ s go. I could be their baby, you can my honey its Let’ s do not spend money of the time. I mix its milk ESPRIT my cocoa breath, Milchiger, milchiger cocoa, mixing you your milk with my cocoa breath, milchiges, milchiges riiiiiiight. They say I’ m really delightfully, the boys wish them to the sex me. It always standing near me, always, dancing near me, Tryin’ a feeling my embossment, embossment. Lookin’ at my lump lump. They can look however you can’ T-note it, if it I’ affect; MA beginning any drama, it don’ t do not wish in such a way a drama, not no drama, No., No., No., no drama to don’ T-course on my hand boy, it ain’ t my man, boy, I’ m straight tryn’ a dance boy, and shift you mean embossments. My embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment, my embossment. My attractive lady seizes together (lumps) my attractive lady seizes together (lumps) my attractive lady seizes together (lumps) in the back and in the front (lump) my lovin’ They receive, She’ s received spendin’ to me;. (Oh) Spendin’ Their whole money on me and expenditure time on me. She’ s received spendin’ to me;. (Oh) Spendin’ Their whole money on me, up on me, on me. Which it gon’ do you do with this whole Trödel? This whole Trödelinnere trunk? I’ MA received, received, received, receive you drunk, to receiving you you love drunk away from my embossment. Which it gon’ do you do with this whole donkey? These whole donkeys within it jeans? I’ MA form, form, form, form you for cry forming you you cry, form you you cry. Which it gon’ do you do with this whole Trödel? This whole Trödelinnere trunk? I’ MA received, received, received, receive you drunk, to receiving you you love drunk away from this embossment. Which it gon’ does ESPRIT do this whole chest? This whole breast inside the shirt? I’ MA form, form, form, form you for work forming you you work, work on you, form you you work. (a ha, Einha, Einha, Einha) [x4] She’ s received spendin’ to me;. (Oh) Spendin’ Their whole money on me and spendin’ Time on me She’ s received spendin’ to me;. (Oh) Spendin’ Their whole money on me, up on me, on me.

“I’d Rather Jack” by The Reynolds Girls into Italian and back:

All that we want to make is to amuse itself Then you have gone to eliminate our house Nobody has never asked our opinion Not, not, we don’t the tit obtains un’ opinion, FM, all those jazz We’d the rather it sings with Yazz What is happened to the radius? The golden songs never do not play that we know Oldies, Rolling Stones, we don’ the tit wants I behind to them; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac No heavy metal, rock’ n’ seam, music from the passed; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac I’d of taken rather Can’ t they see that every generation Has music for relative the own identity? But because the DJ on the radius station Is always two times more than age of me? Who has need of Pink Floyd, terrible straits? That’s not our music, it’ s antiquated demographic Stereotipia never does not play the golden songs that we know Oldies, Rolling Stones, we don’t the tit wants I behind to them; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac No heavy metal, rock’ n’ seam, music from the passed; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac I’d of taken rather, I’d of taken rather, FM, all those jazz We’d the rather it sings with Yazz What is happened to the radius? The golden songs never do not play that we know Oldies, Rolling Stones, we don’t the tit wants I behind to them; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac No heavy metal, rock’ n’ seam, music from the passed; of taken rather than golden Fleetwood Mac Oldies, Rolling Stones, we don’t the tit wants I behind to them; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac No heavy metal, rock’ n’ seam, music from the I passed; of taken rather than golden Fleetwood Mac Oldies, Rolling Stones, we don’t the tit wants I behind to them; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac No heavy metal, rock’ n’ seam, music from the passed; of taken rather than Fleetwood Mac.

“A Whiter Shade Of Pale” by Procul Harum into Dutch and back again:

We beat light fandango concerning twisted cartwheels ‘cross the floor, I felt pleasantly of seasick but the mob which is exclaimed for more, the space buzzed mullet since the ceiling flew away then we for another spirits exclaimed the waiter brought a server and this way was it later that since the miller is tale told that its face twisted, at first only ghostly, a white shade of proved to be they said, ‘There is no reason and truth is clear to see.’ But I walked by my playing cards and her would not let one of vestal sixteen virgins be which left for the coast and although my eyes were they just ash well are able; closed

“Ironic” by Alannis Morrisette into French, then to Greek, then to English again:

Has a old person turned ninety eight this has gained the [lacheioforo] market and has died the next day. It? HIS black fly in to your Chardonnay It? Apology of district condemned in his death the two minutes excessively late and isn’t this… don’t? ironic? that you think it? Is like the rain your does day of marriage It? Free tour when you the already paid It? ; the good Council these you just didnt? Reception of it where would? Is his VE [skefmmenos]… presented K. Play It Safe did have the fear does fly this has packed his bag and it has embraced his children - [xanadeite] it has expected his [xameni] entire life it realises this flight and while l? Planes? It under shattered to it has thought the? Isn’t? Good? This…? Gentil? And isnt? This… don’t? Ironic? That you think It? Is like the rain your does day of marriage It? Free tour when you the already paid It? the s good Council these you just didn’t? Reception of t where would? Does his VE [skefmmenos]… present the good life it has a joke way cafarder ascendant you when you think everything’? O[oy] of [y] and everything? Is that they go well and the life they have a joke way to repair to you when you think everything? That they go bad and all they explode in your confrontation a bottling when you? Already with delay are non-fumeurs they are connected the cutting of your cigarette It? Is it likes spoons the ten when all that you have the need is a knife It? Is that it meets l? Person of my dreams and meeting then his beautiful spouse and isn’t? This… don’t? ironic? That you think little excessively ironic… and, ouais, i thinks really… It? Is like the rain your does day of marriage It? Free tour when you? The already paid It? The good Council these you just didn’t? Reception of t where would? His VE [skefmmenos]… presents the life it has a joke way cafarder ascendant your life it has a joke and joke way to repair to you you that you repair.

Once I’d got into my stride, some really good lyrics proved difficult to resist…

“A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall” by Bob Dylan into simple Chinese and back:

Oh, where are you at are, my blue eye’s son? Where and are you at are, my dear young people one? I’ve tripped, in 12 have one side the mist mountain, I’ve walked and I’ve crawled in six curving highways, I’ve in seven sad forest middle strides, In 12 die in front of the sea is, I’ve is in the graveyard mouth’s 10,000 miles, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, It’s a hard rain’ s a-gonna autumn. Oh, what did you see, my blue eye’s son? What and did you see, my dear young people one? I possessed nearby it see to have a wild wolf’s new birth baby, I saw the diamond highway with nobody regarding this, I looked with retained drippin’ A blood’s black branch; I looked at the room to have their hammer’s a-bleedin’ fully; Human; I saw a water used all lid’s white ladder, I saw the wound tongue complete 10,000 talkative people, I saw the gun and in baby’s hand’s sharp sword, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s hardly with it’s a hard, It’s hard rain’ s a-gonna autumn. Oh, what have you heard, my blue eye’s son? What and have you heard, my dear young people one? I heard to roar warnin’ Thunder sound; Possibly heard to submerge the world wave the roar, I have heard the hand am a-blazin’ 100 drummers; I have heard 10,000 whisperin’ And nobody listenin’ I hear a person to starve, I have heard many people’s laughin’ Listens in the drain gutter dead poet’s song, I have heard in the alley sob comedian clown’s sound, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, It’s hard rain’ s a-gonna autumn. Oh, what did you meet, my blue eye’s son? And whose you have met, my dear young people one? I met, in dies nearby a pony baby, I met a dawdle depressed Caucasian, I met a young married woman who the body burns, I met a girl, she has given me the rainbow, I met a person who likes being injured, I met am wounded in hatred another person, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, It’s hard rain’s a-gonna autumn. And what’ll you present, my blue eye’s son? And what’ll you present, my dear young people one? I’m a-goin’ Cancels ‘ Front the rain starts a-fallin’ To the deepest darkness’s forest’s depth’s I’ll walk, there people are many, and their hand is completely spatial, there poison pill floods their water, there valley’s family meets the moist dirty jail, and executioner’s the face always good hides, there hunger is ugly, the soul forgot, there black is a color, anything is not the digit, and I’ll tells it, and speaks it and to think it and breathes it, and from mountain reflection, therefore all souls can see it, and In sea I’ll standpoint, until I start sinkin’ But I Starts singin’ in me; ls very before good knows my song; And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s hardly with it’s a hard, It’s a hard rain’ s a-gonna autumn.

“This Night Has Opened My Eyes” by The Smiths into Korean and back:

From river color baby of map; Send to the bottom; From news of head world her comfort her, the young girl protects this night opened my eye in the doorstep which throws away and you not to sleep assuredly again kicked hard and in compliance with the child A whom 25 threatens like the man who grew you cried, Oh, him he Said; therapeutic your evils but the didn’ t and he excepts your life and come, assuredly you In because; the dream which only 1 gets but goes the baby was realness and Oh, you she well work she was and poet one possibility or, foolish one possibility there was and badly Oh, you work and I Without being happy and the m not being and I Without being sad and, child your oneself who is not sour the shoes in the m swing being you she which does to make remember again to carry your trouble and Oh, she to leave a pain but, your life consequently, to except, you In because the dream which only 1 gets but goes the baby was realness and Oh, you she well work she was and poet one possibility or, foolish one possibility there was and badly Oh, you work and I Without being happy and the m not being and I Without being sad and the m being come… And I Without being happy and the m not being and I Without being sad and the m being come… And I Without being happy and the m not being and I Without being sad and the m being.

*I have made some very minor edits for clarity. If it reads like gobbledegook now, you should have seen it with Babelfish’s punctuation. They all looked like Radiohead lyrics. Which reminds me…

Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead into Russian and back:

Its green plastic [chonservnaya] jar for its false Chinese rubber plant in the false plastic earth that it purchased from the rubber complete by personnel in the town of completely rubber plans to obtain [osvobozhdannym] itself it bears it outside, it bears it outside it bears it outside, it bears it outside it lives with the broken person the cracked person of polystyrene who exactly it crumbles and it burns it he used in order to make surgery for [devushok] in afterward eighty but gravitational force gains always it bears him outside, it bears it outside it bears it outside, it bears it outside it regards first-class thing it tries as first-class thing my false plastic love but I can’ aid t feeling I could blow through the ceiling if I exactly I turn and to run he bears me outside, it bears me outside it bears me outside, it bears me outside if I it could be, then whom you wanted if I it could be, then coma you wanted always always… Always…

Britain in the late 1950s: rock and roll is still treated with suspicion - considered a playground for hooligans, associated with American rebellion, wild teenagers, social breakdown and sexual permissiveness.

On British soil at the beginning of the sixties, light entertainment or “showbiz” dominated popular culture. The tension between showbiz and rock and roll has continued to play an important role in the development of British pop up to the present day. Pop thrives on it. It’s a battle that has been fought on the ground between the subterranean club and the London Palladium, between the X Factor auditions and the pages of the NME, between the margins and the mainstream.

Larry Parnes - the first British pop mogul and arguably pop’s greatest manager - understood this tension. All of Parnes’ acts were intended to exist beyond the record industry. Billy Fury, Tommy Steele and Marty Wilde were all massively successful chart acts, but Parnes’ vision for these singers was greater still. The theory was: first you conquer the charts, then you become a globally successful stage performer. For Parnes, Tommy Steele was the act Elvis Presley could have been. This was because Steele could really act, could work a difficult crowd and so on - it does seem fanciful in the extreme now but is testimony to Parnes’ showbusiness background.

Larry Parnes fell into pop management by mistake. After a drunken night out he had been persuaded by a friend to invest in a touring drama production and through this was introduced to Tommy Hicks. Re-christened Tommy Steele, Hicks would go on to have enormous success and it is telling that his first hit “Rock With The Caveman” sneaks the word rock into a novelty British pop record. Rock was a dirty word and Steele couldn’t have succeeded if he was seen to be radical. Thus Parnes encouraged him to pursue family-friendly film roles such as leads in the films Tommy The Toreador and Light Up The Sky; bits of fluff, best forgotten if you leave nostalgia out of it. The stage name Steele was intended to confer a sense of robust manliness on this most butter-wouldn’t-melt of performers. It was a strategy that worked so all of the performers who worked with Parnes were eventually given similar pseudonyms. Ron Wycherley - a shy rocker from Liverpool - became Billy Fury, Ray Howard became Duffy Power, Clive Powell became Georgie Fame, Richard Kneller became Dickie Pride and so on. Incredibly, Parnes wanted to give Joe Brown the name Elmer Twitch, but unsurprisingly Brown resisted. They’re great names but by the time the Beatles came to prominence all seemed hopelessly outdated. The careers of Parnes’ boys tended to be brilliant but brief. Joe Brown, escaped that fate - perhaps because of his name-dodging - and his long successful career continues to the present day.

All of these acts were pitched squarely at teenage girls (and perhaps some boys of a certain sexual persuasion - although this of course could not be overt given the attitudes towards homosexuality at the time), and there was little thought given to maintaining the longevity of any of these acts as recording artists. It would be understandable if Parnes thought the late 50s-early 60s pop boom was a passing fad. According to Johnny Rogan’s excellent book on the history of British pop management, Starmakers and Svengalis, by 1957 - when Elvis, Little Richard and Buddy Holly were in their pomp - Parnes wasn’t even familiar with the term “rock and roll”. Parnes’ genius lay in his skills as an entrepreneur, negotiator and deal-breaker. He wasn’t always so shrewd when it came to picking winning acts and while some of his managerial decisions were questionable, his assertions about the acts he managed often sound exceedingly wacky: he told Rogan that “Marty Wilde could go into films and out-act 500 people currently on the screen”.

If Parnes had an act that really could be considered world-class it was Billy Fury. Only Cliff Richard could claim to be as important to the development of British rock and roll as Fury. His matinee idol looks and gift as a songwriter were a potent combination, but Fury was troubled with a congenital heart condition throughout his life and these health problems hampered his career. His album from 1960, The Sound Of Fury, is a rare example of a classic British rock and roll album - it is atypical but nevertheless encapsulates the fervour and energy of pop music at that point in its history brilliantly.

Schoolgirl popstar and “British Brenda Lee”, Helen Shapiro

Far from being the dullsville of popular imagination, pre-Beatles pop was hugely diverse and exciting. In this occasional series we’ll look back at the pop landscape of the years leading up to The Beatles’ global breakthrough in 1963.

The starting point is 1961; West Side Story was the hit musical/film/soundtrack of the year: arguably a high-watermark not just for writers Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, but for popular songwriting generally. Burt Bacharach and Hal David were developing their songwriting chops and hitting with “Tower Of Strength” (a hit for Gene McDaniels and Frankie Vaughan) and “Another Tear Falls” (another McDaniels hit, taken to the UK top 20 five years later by The Walker Brothers).

While the Beatles were still in Hamburg and recording My Bonnie with Tony Sheridan, it is often tempting to think that pop music was in a slump in the very early 60s. Some people have called the 1960s the short decade because it is so synonymous with The Beatles’ global dominance between 1963 and 1970. By 1961 even rock and roll had faded. The original guard of rebel-rousers including Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard were struggling to have hits in the UK, and Bill Haley was a dinosaur. Elvis Presley continued to dominate the “hit parade” but had most success with ballads “Wooden Heart” and “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” and was concentrating more on films like Blue Hawaii.

This isn’t to say that nothing interesting was happening though. In fact when you survey the pop world of 1961 now it’s striking how eclectic it was. The teen pop sensation of the year was Helen Shapiro, aged 14 and still a north London schoolgirl when she had number one hits with “You Don’t Know” and “Walking Back To Happiness”. With a deep, attractive voice and a great sense of rhythm which would find employ singing jazz over a subsequent 50 year career, Shapiro (often dubbed “the British Brenda Lee”) was one of the most talented of all the Brit girl singers of the 60s - only Dusty (in 1961 still a member of The Springfields) could match her. When orchestra leader and producer Norrie Paramor sent out news that he was looking for a “beat singer”, Shapiro was the answer to his prayers. She remained a big enough star to headline a tour with The Beatles in 1962, but was eventually elbowed out of the limelight as Merseybeat took off.

One of the surprises of the year was the trad jazz revival, spearheaded by Acker Bilk, Chris Barber and Kenny Ball. Acker sold a million with the soft Stranger On The Shore but also had hits with wilder material like “Buona Sera”, “That’s My Home” and “Creole Jazz”. Kenny Ball’s trad arrangement of “Midnight In Moscow” was another huge seller while Chris Barber’s collaborations with Acker Bilk dominated the album chart. It was a good year to be in the trad jazz biz as similar bands who were in demand included those of Terry Lightfoot, Bob Wallis, Alex Welsh, Mike Cotton and Charlie Galbraith. The Temperance Seven were successful with their “currayzee” brand of ’30s burlesque music but they weren’t brilliant.

Helen Shapiro and trad weren’t simply British phenomena either, they were international hits to revival anything by the still popular Chubby Checker, whose “Let’s Twist Again” was a hit in the late summer and sold a million copies in the US. Tamla Motown was still finding its feet in 1961 but it was something of a breakthrough year for the label - being the year which gave them their first two million selling singles; The Marvelettes‘ “Please Mr Postman” and The Miracles‘ “Shop Around”. The Complete Motown Singles Vol. 1 (1959-1961) is testament to how great the label was even in its infancy.

Also embarking on a long and successful career in 1961, Gene Pitney hit it big with Town Without Pity: a dramatic, atmospheric pop single which was taken from the soundtrack of the Kirk Douglas film of the same name. Linda Scott’s sweet debut single “I’ve Told Every Little Star” sold a million in the US and reached UK number 7 but she was unable to follow it up with a second hit and disappeared from the charts. The Mar-keys joined the ranks of instrumental hitmakers with their version of “Last Night”. Instrumental pop was everywhere in 1961. The Shadows were the biggest British pop group of the year and alongside their hits with Cliff Richard they had number ones with “Kon Tiki” and “FBI”. Joe Meek was busy concocting the eccentric fizzy pop we know and love him for, and although The Tornados instrumental “Telstar” was still a year away, he had a hit as producer of Johnny Leyton’s still incredible “Johnny Remember Me” in August.

1961 did indeed see the release of a number of stunning singles. “Johnny Remember Me” aside, there was room for Billy Fury’s “Halfway To Paradise”, Danny Williams‘ “Moon River”, Dion’s “Runaround Sue”, Ray Charles‘ “Hit The Road Jack”, Del Shannon’s “Runaway” and The Tokens‘ “Lion Sleeps Tonight”. Billy Fury was arguably the greatest British rocker of them all (although no-one should underestimate the importance of Cliff) and the most impressive of impresario Larry Parnes‘ charges. Parnes was the Simon Cowell of the early 60s: Britain’s first pop mogul. There was nobody who could match his managerial or entrepreneurial skill. The press dubbed him Parnes, Shillings and Pence and just as Cowell’s X Factor finalists tour each year, so the package tour of Parnes’ acts (which also included - check those names out! - Vince Eager, Tommy Steele, Duffy Power and Johnny Gentle) was a massive draw during the early 60s. Cowell is not a new phenomenon. The 1962 film Play It Cool captures Billy Fury at his electric best and also features Helen Shapiro and Shane Fenton and The Fentones (Fenton would go on to find fame in the 70s as glam-rocker Alvin Stardust).

All intriguing stuff and well worth a second listen which is why I’ve put together this 50 track YouTube playlist of US and UK hits from 1961.

You can be forgiven for missing it, but ex-Creation boss Alan McGee recently wrote a blog post for The Guardian wherein he compared Charlotte Church to Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine. Oh, and he likened her lyrical approach to that of Bob Dylan. Like the many people who voiced their disbelief in the predictably hilarious comments that ensued, I don’t know whether McGee was taking the mick, deadly serious or quite mad. It was fun to read though, and for all that it was off-the-mark it was a heck of a lot more worthwhile than yet another retreading of the “day I discovered Oasis” story (yawn).

What it also captured for me is the sheer idiotic/irrational thrill of pop music. Sometimes there’s just no accounting for it. You can archive photographs of pop tribes down the years and attach some beard-stroking essays to boost the academic credibility of pop-as-art, as the Photographic Youth Music Culture Archive has done - and that’s marvellous. Or you can take the Jon Savage/Alan Clayson approach and become a sort of historian of pop, piecing together thousand word tomes on neglected backwaters of pop culture - again a noble discipline to undertake. But it takes a pop fan to really get under the skin of pop, and pop fans aren’t always entirely sensible, and they don’t always have arguments that convince - they’re too busy hitting the “Replay” button on some YouTube clip somewhere to take stock. That’s the fast, live-for-today urgency of popmusic for you.

In the last week or so I’ve tapped into my inner pop fanatic again, and it was an amazing pop song that triggered it all off, the culprit in question this time being Mini Viva’s One Touch: the duo’s third 10-out-of-10 solid gold classic single.

Mini Viva are my favourite pop group. Someone should re-invent Smash Hits and put them on the cover. We can throw a centrefold poster of Hurts in for good measure.

If you’re Cro-Magnon man, Mundy, or a fan of The Frames, One Touch may cause your face to contort and your sanctimonious indie self to mutter on about “authenticity” or “proper songwriting” - especially when confronted with lines like “Do you want a candy, hey baby/ With a cherry on top?” But then if you’re such a person I can’t think why on earth you’re reading this. Just bugger off alright? (Have they gone? Good.)

There’s no real justification for watching the video for One Touch 20 times in a row, but like the notional concept of the Absolute or the weather, pop is a law unto itself. Pop’s not going to solve any of the world’s problems. And no-one expects pop music to last, it is an art-form that doesn’t strive for longevity; it’s supposed to be transient, of the moment, fleeting and inconsequential - and yet great pop is what tends to get remembered. Mini Viva’s last single tanked at a lowly 73 in the charts, but even if One Touch follows suit and bombs hearing it in the distant future will doubtless cause a Proustian rush in me that takes me back to the summer of 2010.

Kate Nash’s between-song banter: “It’s like being at school isn’t it?” Yes. Like detention.

It’s good to break out into a new direction, to stretch yourself having proved you can woo a large pop audience. The Beatles excelled at it. Nilsson, OMD, Dexys, Pulp and Radiohead have all garnered critical acclaim for refusing to rest on their laurels and deciding to challenge their audiences and themselves.

But sometimes this gambit can backfire.

Kate Nash is back with second album My Best Friend Is You, and it’s a bit of a departure from the urbane pop of old. Only a bit of a departure, mind you, because she hasn’t suddenly transformed into Sun Ra, or a one woman version of Rammstein. But now Nash is excited by politically charged “riot grrl” acts like Huggy Bear and Sleater-Kinney; angsty, angry feminist indie rock bands from the early 90s.

I watched Kate Nash’s show in Dublin last week, and it was one of the worst gigs I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of half-arsed indie shit in Whelan’s down the years, believe me. Just cringeworthy. In some ways the schadenfreude of it all was enough to provide something resembling a thrill, but it generally veered towards being boring and being the sort of thing you watch through the cracks in your fingers. Why was the Kate Nash show so bad?

Well it would appear she’d been overdoing it on the old “rock and roll mouthwash” backstage beforehand for starters. She kept forgetting the lyrics, and even the chords to songs from her FIRST album, let alone the new one. Her enthusiastic fans helped her out by bellowing along to each song, and I was struck by the crowd’s warmth and affection for Nash, and by their dogged determination to have a good time in the face of the dog’s dinner that was unfolding before them. Before performing I Hate Seagulls (the quiet one in the set), Nash demanded silence - this was an over14s gig by the way - from the crowd. When the kids wouldn’t stay absolutely silent she went into a huff and refused to start it. When she finally did, she’d forgotten how to play it. She apologized before performing the beat-poetry inspired Mansion Song, and that was met with bafflement by the crowd. She sulked when asked by a kid to sign her I LOVE KATE banner. I could go on. When she came on stage she was greeted like a heroine, by the encore about a third of the crowd had left. A right old car crash of a gig.

It reminded me a bit of Kevin Rowland’s My Beauty period, which is quite a good thing in a perverse way, because at least there are signs that something interesting is going on, even it is a bit grim. Having suffered homelessness for a long period in the 1990s, the former Dexys Midnight Runners leader was signed to Creation records and benefitted from the former indie label’s slick publicity machine. The label had just had huge success with Oasis and had done a megabucks distribution deal with Sony. So when Rowland unveiled a bizarre new image which involved wearing erotic underwear and make up, and recorded an album of therapeutic covers which sold merely hundreds of copy on its release, Creation were left with egg on their face and Rowland was dropped once more. Another period in the wilderness ensued – although he has since prospered as a DJ and has revived Dexys for a successful tour.

Kate Nash’s current predicament is of a similar – if not as extreme – nature. It’s not just that her new material is a big change, it’s that it’s not really good enough. Combine that with just a shitty self-absorbed performance on the night I saw her and you have a recipe for disaster.

I don’t think she’s serving her old audience very well, and her new material isn’t really exciting or fresh or interesting enough to secure a new audience. Alternative types won’t be that interested in it, and the pop kids will just look for their thrills and tunes elsewhere.

If her new album’s a mega-hit, I’m going to feel foolish, but I’d be delighted to watch her turn things around.

Grab our template right here.

Our launch party this edition was graced by the Rubberbandits, Wounds, a former Minister for Defence, one seriously impressive beard, and two Gardaí. And quite a lot of Dubliners. Special thanks to everybody who transcended the lack of free alcohol, to the vocal cords that sang along with the curse-y choruses (we’re not sure if Wounds’ ‘ALL OUR FRIENDS/DEAD DEAD FUCKING DEAD’ or Rubberbandits’ ‘Fuck yer Honda Civic, I’ve a horse outside’ was more popular) , and the young one who smudged her tits up against the smoking area window during the Rubberbandits (sadly, the eagle eyes of Sharp Shock missed, or chose to omit the Bandits’ “biggest fans”). Shout out, as ever, to Orlando and to Simon, and a gratitude to Wounds for tidying up after themselves, and the Rubberbandits for bringing their own bags.

More shots after the jump.

Willie, you’ve such a firm handshake.

Odessa Club was so rammed full, smokers had to devise entirely new ways of getting to the smoking area.

We told him we’d give him a plug on the website.

Hate those nobs who wear headphones indoors for no reason.obby

Bobby appears to be unaware of the terror his odour is having on those around him.

Skull it.

Don’t you hate it when someone else is wearing your new shirt?

That telly in the background mysteriously disappeared in a Honda Civic at the end of the Rubberbandits’ show.

Til next time, Dublin.

Malcolm McLaren, who has died from cancer aged 64, had a better claim than most to the title “Godfather of British Punk”. A couple of years before the Sex Pistols became figures of hysterical admiration and condemnation, McLaren was in the US managing The New York Dolls - dressing the band as communists in an attempt to stoke some flames and generally cause mischief. And Malcolm McLaren really was a brilliant mischief maker, more than a shrewd manager. Johnny Rogan’s book “Starmakers and Svengalis” questions whether McLaren was really in the same tradition of great pop managers like Andrew Loog Oldham and Simon Napier Bell, and there was always a sense that McLaren got bored easily, that he was constantly sizing up the next project. His insatiable need to challenge - and be challenged by - rock and roll, or the art world, is what made him so exciting and so inimitable.

In 1968, at the height of the political protests in Paris, McLaren attempted (and ultimately failed) to join up with members of the Situationist International - a group of artists and thinkers McLaren had admired and who would continue to be a source of inspiration to him for years to come. Despite being a total academic washout at school, in adulthood he was a globetrotting, maverick thinker. From working with his (romantic as well as business) partner Vivienne Westwood in their shop SEX on the King’s Road to making thoughtful documentaries about London and Los Angeles, he was never interested in taking on easy options and never predictable. That he spotted something akin to “talent”, even if only a talent for upsetting people, in the Sex Pistols - rowdy, irreverent teens when he met them - is the mark of someone who’s prepared to live constantly outside of the “comfort zone”. The music industry was changed so entirely by his collaboration with the Pistols that it’s easy to forget that nobody - or possibly only a madman - would have looked at this bunch of kids in early 1976 and had the balls or the brains to see their potential. The Sex Pistols’ gig from a houseboat on the Thames during the celebrations for the silver jubilee in 1977 is probably the best Situationist thing, and the best pop thing, and the most rock and roll thing, that has ever happened.

His association with the Sex Pistols is, for many people, eclipsed by his solo work including the astonishing 1983 album Duck Rock, which took samples of music from South African townships, country hoe-downs and hip hop radio broadcasts from the US, dancehall music from Puerto Rico, and Martin Denny style exotica and mashed it all up into the most dazzlingly eclectic (and genuinely multicultural) pop music ever made. The World’s Famous Supreme Team Show, underground DJs from New York whose broadcasts went out in the middle of the night, and were heard by few, became well known in the UK. Duck Rock provided a lot of people with their first experience of hip hop culture and has been sampled endlessly ever since. The team of people who Malcolm and producer Trevor Horn assembled to piece the album together would go on to become The Art Of Noise. Buffalo Gals and Double Dutch are among the most thrilling singles I’ve ever heard.

Never a man to stand still, McLaren followed Duck Rock with Fans, an album that helped bring opera to the pop charts in the form of its astonishing lead single Madame Butterfly. A string of equally groundbreaking work followed; Waltz Darling, Something’s Jumping In Your Shirt, the Paris album amongst them, but this was always overshadowed in the public’s mind by the image of McLaren as British punk’s ringmaster - a sort of malevolent clown who reveled in chaos, an eccentric English madcap. He was also involved in the development of Adam Ant, who McLaren advised add Burundi drum sounds to his songs. McLaren kicked Adam out of his own band, The Ants, leading to the creation of Bow Wow Wow, and giving Adam the impetus to go on and make a revised line-up of Adam & The Ants the greatest pop group in Britain for at least the period covering 1980-1981 and possibly the best ever. At the other end of the eighties, McLaren beat Madonna to the “vogue” craze by about 18 months. Bow Wow Wow’s obsession with releasing only on cassette (”Your Cassette Pet”, “C30 C60 C90 Go!” etc) was a response to the hysteria about how home taping was supposedly “killing music”. That debate rages on to this day but McLaren was there, provoking the issue, raising hackles and fuelling debate at the dawn of the 1980s.

As a teenager I watched Malcolm McLaren preside over an edition of Top Of The Pops, and despite the absence of spitting, mohawks or pogoing, it was in some ways the most punk thing I’d ever seen. It was around the time of Paris, so the whole episode was made to look like a French arthouse movie. The set was covered in giant staircases, with pillars draped in enormous white curtains. It was broadcast in widescreen format (unusual for 1994), was deliberately grainy and sepia coloured, and McLaren - dressed in black and flanked by a quartet of models who looked like they’d stepped from the pages of French Vogue - introduced Kylie Minogue, Shampoo, Dinosaur Jnr and Let Loose with a mixture of dry humour and exaggerated boredom which is still one of the most mental things I’ve ever seen broadcast on a major channel in the early evening. It’s just a tiny detail in McLaren’s long career but for me gets to the heart of what made the man stand out. He infiltrated the popular consciousness and turned everything upside down. In keeping with his Situationist ethos, he engaged with culture on the grandest scale, and sought to subvert it. Shortly before his death he was preparing for an art exhibition on the theme of sex and eroticism.

When asked, in the late 90s, to think up a name for a new boyband McLaren paused for a moment and, having mentally lighted upon the name most likely to cause public outrage and garner press attention, offered his response. “P.C. GAY”, he said, “P.C. for ‘police constable’ or ‘politically correct’ and…gay.”

We’ll never see his like again.

Well, we’ve kept this under our Adidas hoods long enough - issue 67’s already on the streets and in the Tescos, but we’re launching it in louder fashion this Friday, with special help from Willie O’Dea’s favourite glue-fiends, the Rubberbandits, and the potentially-also-out-of-their-bin Wounds. We’ll have at least a million hundred thousand free drinks, our friendly neighbourhood DJ Orlando, and some special former-minister-for-defence-related sideshows on the night.

What?

We take a month off any you’ve already forgotten?

It’s completely free!

The Rubberbandits [http://www.myspace.com/rubberbanditspranks]
The mysterious plastic-bag clad Rubberbandits, or Blindboy Boat Club and Mr Chrome as are their individual aliases, pride themselves on being the ‘grand pricks of prank phone calls’. Having managed to bridge the divide between rap music and comedy their songs ‘Bag of Glue’ and ‘Too Many Gee’ have inspired a cult following that ensures sell-out appearances nationwide.

More at: http://www.totallydublin.ie/comedy-preview-rubberbandits—a-tesco-bag-clad-interview-231.html

Wounds [www.myspace.com/thewoundsband]

‘We’ll play in the seventh circle of hell, the violent one, you drag some of those screaming girls your talking about and we’ll sacrifice them or something ghoulish like that.’

Despite our lunchtime-talk half-plans, there’s no such institution as the Totally Dublin Awards yet. If there was, the first thing we’d do is invite Kanye. After that, we’d ask Wounds to play at the ceremony - they would be, after all, collecting our inaugural ‘Best Live Act’, ‘Dirtiest Riff’, and ’Most Likely To Be Signed To Vice Records’ awards.

More at: http://totallydublin.ie/blog/?p=447

ARE YOU A VIDEO ARTIST? We’ve got the running of a shiny super-sweet projector screen at Odessa Club going to waste on ‘Metropolis’ on constant loop - if you fancy flaunting your visual wares drop us a comment or email.