Some people may ask what the title of my blog is all about. We all have a favourite song, one that comes back to us time and time again. Invariably it will be one that we recall as a child or more probably, a teenager. The teens are, after all, our formative years. We all remember the sports stars, film stars and pop stars of our youth, no matter now many more replace them in our consciousness.
“Billy rapped all night” is the opening line of a song that remains my all-time favourite, some 34 years after it was a top 10 hit for Mott the Hoople. Need any more clues? Well, it’s written by my all-time music hero, David Bowie. No, it’s not The Laughing Gnome, but All the Young Dudes.
I have given instructions to my wife to have this ready at my funeral, along with the Beatles classic Hey Jude and Forbidden Colours by David Sylvian.
The inspiration behind compiling a set-list for my final bow – a long way off, I hope – was the recent funeral of my friend and colleague Gerald Lincoln. Gerald was a sobre man, in many ways, and 64 years old, but he used his last days to arrange his funeral. He chose the music, excerpts from a prog-rock band, the Enid, and bizarrely in the final seconds of the humanist service, Hamburger Concerto by another favourite of mine, Focus.
So “Billy rapped all night” has special significance and captures the essence of the 1971-73 period when we all had long hair, wore platform shoes and stood open-mouthed watching the likes of Bowie, Bolan and Roxy Music in complete awe.
Billy rapped all night about his suicide
How he'd kick it in the head when he was twenty-five
Don't wanna stay alive when you're twenty-five
Wendy's stealing clothes from unlocked cars
And Freddy's got spots from ripping off the stars from his face
A funky little boat race
The television man is crazy
Saying we're juvenile delinquent wrecks
Man, I need a T.V. when I've got T-Rex
Hey, brother, you guessed
I'm a dude
All the young dudes
Carry the news
Booga-loo, dudes
Carry the news
No comments:
Post a Comment