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Watched a couple of programmes about jazz and swing with my Dad tonight. It was good.
…an accordion-recorder-ukelele-guitar flash mob playing ‘Life On The Ocean Wave’, squirrels, a Lee Child novel, some beautiful lights in a shop, a woman blatantly taking a photo of me as I walked towards her, a dandy with a smart scarf, two defiant female smokers and a man who looked like Ross Kemp – all wrapped in beautiful, chilly autumnal sunshine. Life is grand!
But I shouldn’t be. I’ve long held and vocalised the belief that if a song is good it doesn’t matter who it’s by.
And yet I can’t help myself. It’s just a reflex reaction, like someone hitting you just below the kneecap with one of those weird hammers. If you find someone’s music unlistenable you instinctively go ‘BLEARGH’.
But the other side of this is owning music by those possibly less than cool artists which you just can’t help but love. I realised recently, when I sheepishly owned up to loving Take That’s Beautiful World album, that it was actually socially acceptable to feel that way about them as everyone around me heartily agreed with me. They’re not dark or edgy, they just make life affirming pop and love songs and everyone loves them for it.
This kind of doesn’t quite lead us to Cliff, but we’ve arrived at him anyway. There’s a little pocket of his music that I find wonderful. Some People, Wired For Sound, Please Don’t Fall In Love, My Pretty One, Carrie, We Don’t Talk Anymore, in fact quite a lot of what appears on ‘Private Collection’. Even Mistletoe and Wine is singalongable (as long as it’s Christmas). I love it. Can’t help it. Don’t care.
So here’s to Cliff.
Good on you, Sir.
It’s raining, the tree outside my window is beautiful, full with leaf and for some reason Kathy’s Song and Together We are the soundtrack to my Friday and beyond. I’ve got two songs to work on and then Weapon Of Love is recorded. How cool is that?
Also, remixes, more recording and live dates coming in the not too distant.
G @ Coosticks HQ
I was just listening to the man and wanted to write…something.
I could kind of imagine him never coming back to music. Not announcing anything, just living a life beyond it all.
But I hope he does come back at some point because there is no one like him. I was listening to a playlist and realised I’m always in the mood to listen to something by Bowie. Maybe not all of it but there’s always a song or twelve that I would put on any time of day, any day of the week.
And he’s a master of image too. No one in music looks as cool as him as often as him.