Maestro, music!

Can't find the old music thread, so starting a new one.
Was stunned by her voice:
I dreamed a dream from Les Mis

http://www.librarything.com/topic/81839
http://www.librarything.com/topic/93601
http://www.librarything.com/topic/102474
http://www.librarything.com/topic/109331
http://www.librarything.com/topic/114285
http://www.librarything.com/topic/122706
http://www.librarything.com/topic/133201
http://www.librarything.com/topic/135715
http://www.librarything.com/topic/138290

Whoa, amazing! I am gonna troll through al those threads and spend a milli downloading music.

At this moment, I am listening to this one.

As you know, it is too late in Slovenia to listen to music, Martin. I will tomorrow. But let us take a moment and thing about Porius, who posted so much music. Let's hope he is well enough to return soon.

Fading in and out lately, but I do miss P!

Did something happen to Porius? Or was that just a lighthearted tribute to our bud?

No, he has been ill and as yet I know little.

Martini's 500 great songs is one of the Salon classics. What a great thread. Just lost myself there for an hour.

I am so sad to hear that Porius has been ill. Porius, if you see this, we love you guy.

I am still smarting from Martin's Pogues choices, which were not without merit, but necessarily meant, since he was obviously working with a Pogues limit, that he left off many of the best songs of their era in favor of some absoloute and scientifically proven to be CRAP!

There's never ever too much music, Henk.

And thanks Robert for that compilation.

And, LOL, here we go again with the Pogues! This place is so much fun and familiar. It's like everyone can finish each other's...

...nail clipping scrapbooks.

This is music I'm unfamiliar with - what's the Pogue's Schtick?

Irish punk, supposedly, but I think they're best is more down and dirty poet-Irish.

Pogues The Sick Bed Of Cuchulainn Lyrics



Mccormack and richard tauber are singing by the bed
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
There's devils on each side of you with bottles in their hands
You need one more drop of poison and you'll dream of foreign lands

When you pissed yourself in frankfurt and got syph down in cologne
And you heard the rattling death trains as you lay there all alone
Frank ryan brought you whiskey in a brothel in madrid
And you decked some fucking blackshirt who was cursing all the yids
At the sick bed of cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair

And in the euston tavern you screamed it was your shout
But they wouldn't give you service so you kicked the windows out
They took you out into the street and kicked you in the brains
So you walked back in through a bolted door and did it all again
At the sick bed of cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair

You remember that foul evening when you heard the banshees howl
There was lousy drunken bastards singing billy is in the bowl
They took you up to midnight mass and left you in the lurch
So you dropped a button in the plate and spewed up in the church

Now you'll sing a song of liberty for blacks and paks and jocks
And they'll take you from this dump you're in and stick you in a box
Then they'll take you to cloughprior and shove you in the ground
But you'll stick your head back out and shout "we'll have another round"
At the graveside of cuchulainn we'll kneel around and pray
And God is in his heaven, and billy's down by the bay

Lorca's Novena
Ignacio lay dying in the sand
A single red rose clutched in a dying hand
The women wept
to see their hero die
And the big black birds gathered in the sky

Mother of all our joys
Mother of all our sorrows
Intercede with him tonight
For all of our tomorrows

The years went by
and then the killers came
And took the men
and marched them up the hill of pain
And Lorca, the faggot poet they left till last
Blew his brains out with a pistol up his arse

Mother of all our joys
Mother of all our sorrows
Intercede with him tonight
For all of our tomorrows

The killers came
to mutilate the dead
But ran away in terror
to search the town instead
But Lorca's corpse,
as he had prophesied
, just walked away
And the only sound was the women in the chapel praying

Mother of all our joys
Mother of all our sorrows
Intercede with him tonight
For all of our tomorrows

(Actually this one is sort of punk)

O Pogue Schtick!

Okay, Rick. Fine. You drove me to this. Imma post Martin's Top 20 Pogues Songs and let us see if we cannot find some common ground.

But since that list does not yet exist, here's some "Alppunk" from my countrymen in Attwenger for the long nights.

And PS Sam, many thanks! That thread learned me some knowledge (Gene G., also missed) and got me through some weird times. I guess it's time to pick some tunes for 2012....

That Appunk is SO 91.

We have already battled on one Pogue song, (sunny side of the street) and I never actually told you that I listened again and came to agree with you.

Common ground? Oh kitty, my darling, remember, that the doom will be mine if I stay.....

You know, I'm a huge fan of the Pogues, but I take 'em in small doses. I can't even think of listening to enough to rack-and-stack 20 songs. After a while, they'd begin to sound like this guy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mK1sF6kv0l8

I HATE that fucking song--two people when they get together here tend to break into it and if fucking is intolerable.

I found that listening to the Pogues was best when on my way to teach high school..."At the time I was working for a landlord..."

That's very, very weird. And these any two people getting together aren't necessarily under 7 years of age? That would definitely creep me out.

53 and 51 I think. Great people otherwise.

You know Rick, you need to count your blessings that folks over in your parts are spittin' Raffi. Over in the States, the Nightly News is featuring this phenom:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4hpEnLtqUDg

Well, I had to post it somewhere.

Did you? did you really?

Spare his poe wife from his Monstrosities.

I was hoping somebody would remember what song's that from.

OH MY FREAKING GOD IS MY BRAIN DYING OR WHAT

oh forgive me forgive me your MAJESTY

yes, of course, this

Galileo galileo

Bismillah No we will not let you go!

Figs! I go!

This has simply gone wrong, very wrong.

Life has just begun ...

Was pretty stoked when a friend asked me to join her for This Trombone Shorty song for her exam/recital (If you find the chorus/verse boring: the fun is at the end) but she being saxophonist, she greatly reduced the role of the trumpet. Well, should still be good.

Rick, last night I sat down at a dank Commercial Drive pub (I think it was faux dank) with Dawn of the Dead on the tel and drank rum and made this list. The typoes are highly authentic. Let me know if there's anything I missed.

1. The Band Played Waltzing Matilda—I guess lachrymosity wins over good times. But my god, his legs! Australians ain’ nothing without their egs.
2. Recruiting Sergeant-Rocky Road to Dublin-Galway Races—punkest f the punk
3. Dirty Old town—pure damn weepery but with a sweet undertone of youth springing eternal
4. Fairytale of New York—kind of had to let go of this one. It got too overdetermined
5. The Broad Majestic Shannon—this makes me desperately wish to be back in Esquimalt with three kids, barely keeping my drinking in check
6. The Auld Triangle—as does this, really, but only so I have an excuse to sing it half cut aat the Tudor House. Except now the Tudor is all ultimate fighting and the guys are singing, Jesus, I don’t even know what. Rap killed the singalong!
7. Bottle of Smoke—chorus! Chorus! New perverse realms!
8. On the Sunnyside of the Street—get up in the morning! Have some eggs, sunnyside up!
9. Lorca’s Novena—okay, Rick, I’m sold
10. Transmetropolitan—I SAID HAVE SOME FECKIN EGGS
11. South Australia—fucking let’s get some adventures up in this piece. This is like “Highway to the Danger Zone” if it was less concerned with posing for the music video and selling tom cruise as a badass.
12. Waxie’s Dargle—It’s like a manic Irish musical. All over Dublin, WHAT’LL YOU HAVE? I’LL HAVE A PINT! I’LL HAVE A PINT WITH YOU SIR, and then a little jig arm in arm under the moon
13. Sally Maclennane—nice to meet you Sally
14. Sick Bed of Cuchilainn—Celts be burnin up Europe!
15. Greenland Whale Fisheries—the guys who first sang this song on the whale boats would be so mad if they could see us sailing now, fuckabouts in white pants
16. The Pogues and the Dubliners sing “The Irish Rover”—chocolate n cheese
17. Fiesta---kind of dumb but the pogues do mexico is a good idea
18. Summer in Siam—I love a good fruity sax
19. Poor Paddy—like the best heritage minute ever
20. Thousands are Sailing—historical popppppp—this is the better new york one in ways
21. The Parting Glass—oooh, classic pogues. One of us will not live to see his bed
22. Old Main Drag—and he died with a rattle
23. f I Should Fall from Grace with God—most bands would foreground the bury me at sea conceit but the P’s can just throw it away
24. Wild cats of Kilkenny—they move like cagéd tigers
25. Green Queens and Jean—sounds like Nana Mouskouri mixed with “Whiskey in the Jar” (a heady brew)
26. The Body of an American—this reminds me of Graham Greene and Warren Zevon and what it means to eb a man
27. London You’re a Lady—the quality of this one is highly drink-dependent
28. Pair of Brown Eyes—fucking pretty eyes make me so sad and that makes me angry!
29. Blue Heaven—ha ha, zydeco! Sometimes listening to the pogues is like, tannins! Oak notes!
30. Night Train to Lorca—this is like the soundtrack of the movie “Machete” if they didn’t want it to make any money. (That’s a good thing!) But why always the vocals buried?
31. Paddy Garcia—there’s just no way you can go wrong when you add a little Morricone, though you do run the risk of reminding people they could be listening to Morricone
32. Tombstone—fuck, this sounds like Dead Can Dance. I’m impressed. These guys have a musical palette
33. A Rainy Night in Soho--Melodic but empty but melodic!
34. Worms—complexly related to my relationship with my dad
35. Kitty—in contrast to the one below where they sound tired,here they just sound sleepy, a different thing entirely
36. Misty Morning, Albert Brisge—equal parts Shane McGowan, late-period Igy Pop, and drunk karaoke uncle, a deeply pleasing blend
37. The Boys of the Country Hell—the way all their choruses are a dude talking to another dude makes me feel deeply lonely
38. Dingle Regatta—I like how they break it down to the accordion and then build itback up
39. Young Ned of the Hill—I hope “Young Ned” doesn’t get too popular as a baby name before I can get knocked up
40. House of the Gods—so melodic! Even if it sounds like they’re singing to “CMV,” which sounds like someplace you get your car insurance renewed
41. Lullaby of London—juzt pretty
42. Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah—dumb fun
43. The Limerick Rake—I like when you can’t tell if it’s a traditional Irish folk song or a Pogues orig
44. Gartloney Rats—the first track on “Peace and Love” that sounds fucking Irish. They’re all check out our potential AOR hits and I’m like fuck off do your trick
45. Lorelei—Heinrich Heine + the Proclaimers? What?
46. Billy’s Bones—it’s weird how the sins of the past die with the past. Like if George Bush were still around, he’d never be able to start another war because everyone hates him, but the current guy could because we’re not mad enough at him yet. What?
47. Planxty Noel Hill—mostly I just spend this song wondering what “plaxty” means expect forthr e part that goes “so earlie in the morning”
48. Boat Train—this isn’t what it about, but the title makes me think “sweater pants,” or “steak fish”
49. Turkish Song of the Damned—still cruel
50. Metropolis—irish whistle, irish gang horns
51. London Girl—immeidately irritating. Apparently all their lesser-known songs are Bayou jamz? Why?
52. I’m a Man you Don’t Meet Every Day—sweet but too the Corrs
53. Streams of Whiskey—stuff that uses water words like “streams” for hard liquor angries up my synaesthesia, because like, swimming in that stream makes my eyes burn
54. The Battle March Medley—the pogues are responsible for at least 60% of the medleys in my life
55. Down in the Ground Where the Deadmen Go—despite all the screaming, they sound tired
56. The Dark Streets of London—it makes me sad to think about how London’s a money hole now and there’s no people visibly living on its dark streets. If only I could believe that they’re all stockbrokers now
57. White City—optimistic but somewhat characterless, like the theme song from a failed BBC radio serial about honest working people in the West Midlands
58. Navigator—kinda blah, although I like a good “there’s work to be done”
59. Sayonara—never lives up to the briiliant promise of its intro
60. Down all the Days—sludgy
61. The Ghost of a Smile—I actually find this unsettling
62. The Wake of the Medusa—they do this elsewhere better
63. Hell’s Ditch—Makes me wush I kew the difference beteen a jig and a reel and, lie, a pavane
64. Train of Love—sounds like a “Graceland” outtake sung by a bunch of Irish jerkoffs
65. Cotton fields—ugh, sounds like the fightin mcgillicuddies do mtv unplugged
66. Sea Shanty—this is the kind of thing they shouldn’t bother with. They’re the Pogues, they’re beyond this
67. Honky Tonk Wooman-0-It’s always weird when a way better band does a song by a way worse band and makes it way worse than even the way worse band’s version. ‘slike, reverse math
68. USA—fuck off
69. Everyman is a King—this appears to be about Lady Liberty and the Starrs and Stripes”? Fuck off twice
70. Maldrin Rua—this is a reel? An air?
71. Gridlock—Celtic rock, okay. Celtic big band jazz, no sir.
72. Star of the Country Down—oos that a …fakeAmericna accent? Wow. Turd in the punch bowl, guys

The “oos” was not a terrifying attempt at Irish eye dialect! That’s all, folks!

A planxty is a tune written in praise of someone, often as a reward for hospitality. I wrote one for Chris that I play on the harp.

Aw, thanks! Answers mean so much more from a person than from the internet:)

Hmmmm. 7 letter word with x. I need to remember that one for scrabble.

Dark Eyes by Yoska Gabor and his Gypsy Orchestra