Oof. What to say today? It being NaBloPoMo, I have to say something even if it’s utterly pointless and dull. [Lucky readers - Ed].
Nope. Coming up with nada. Heigh ho.
The NaBloPoMo website has a daily prompt, for those of us wedged in the Writer’s Block. The two most recent, for the 11th and the 10th, are far too deep and complicated for late on a Saturday evening [light-weight], so I have skipped down and grabbed one from a few days ago. I’m really not sure why. Who on earth wants to know this sort of thing about me? More to the point, who wants to know it for reasons other than laugh-and-point?
What was your favorite song this year? Five years ago? Ten years ago? Twenty?
This year? Probably Unravel, originally by Björk, but I saw the Swingle Singers live in concert, singing this, and admittedly I was feeling very vulnerable and tragic and my heart-strings were more than usually accessible, but it promptly went on a mental loop for months and months. [It starts with two minutes of BeatBox, which utterly has nothing to do with the song in question, and we all bickered for ages as to whether this version was so much better than any other on YouTube, that the BeatBox would be worth putting up with. Reed won, on the monstrously sophistical ground that it's her blog].
Five years ago? Mr Bobby, by Manu Chao. Actually, it’s still a favourite song. [As ever, Reed is not in the least 'with it']. This is the live concert version. The version on the album Próxima Estación: Esperanza is more heartachy and, I think, better, but this one’s still mighty fine.
Ten years ago? Mambo by Lucio Dalla. God, I love this song. Lucio Dalla is a genius. You people who didn’t grow up in Italy, and who don’t understand the words, are missing out. It’s a song about a bad break-up. It doesn’t translate well. But it’s both bitter and very funny. ‘She left slamming the door/ I still had my hand in the way…’
Twenty years ago? Oh, Lord, I was still in my teens. I wore DMs with scarlet laces and sewed beads into my hair. I had a black satin waist-coat. I lived on black coffee and fingernails. I also lived on Bob Dylan (we share a birthday. My parents were very proud). Not that Jimi Hendrix isn’t wonderful, but here is the real version of All Along the Watchtower, and good golly but it took a while to track down a version that wasn’t some tomfool cover.