By Uncleben
(with apologies to Laurence Sterne)
I know there are readers in the world, who find themselves ill at ease, unless they are let immediately into the whole secret, of everything that is to be memorialised in the venerable Marconium.——To them, I can give no better advice than to skip over these digressions and proceed to the amusingly captioned A-list and B-list below.
"My Lord or Lady – I maintain this to be a dedication, notwithstanding its singularity in the three essentials of matter, form, and place: I beg, therefore, you will permit me to lay it, with the most respectful humility, at your Lordship's or Ladyship's feet,—when you are upon them. I have the honour to remain your most obedient, and most devoted servant, Uncleben"
I solemnly declare that the above dedication was made for no one nobleman or lady, of this, or any other Realm;——nor has it yet been hawked about to any one personage, great or small; but is honestly a true Virgin-Dedication untried upon any soul living. I labour this point to remove any offence which might arise from my putting it up fairly to public sale. If anyone stands in need of a tight, genteel dedication,—and if you are not so vain that you already think this write-up is dedicated to you—it is much at his or her service for fifty guineas.
Pray, my Dear, quoth my wife, have you not forgot to chuse your A-list?——Good God! I cry—Did ever woman, since the creation of the world, interrupt a man with such a silly question? Pray, what was I saying?———Heavens! —The A-list!
I wish the Landlord and I, as we were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what we were about when it was agreed I should guru this topic; had we duly consider'd that not only the production of a rational playlist and write-up was concerned in it, but also the very cast of mind of this week's contributors and readers;—and, for aught we knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of the Song Bar;——Had we duly weighed all this,——Had a different guru instead taken up the project, I am verily persuaded that this write-up might had cut quite a different figure from that in which the reader is likely to see it.
But,—to return to the matter of the A-list; ——I have hit upon an expedient which will allow all but the most penetrating readers to presume my chosen songs the consequence of most punctilious industry,—viz., I will commence the A-list with an extended musical Prologue. Whilst Stan Kenton introduces the players in his big band and delineates the parts they are to play;—within these ten minutes, I will undertake the pressing task of discovering from readers' bounteous nominations a further eleven pieces of meta-textual distinction.
I must present my tender thanks to Mr Kenton. I now have a strong propensity in me to continue the A-list with Odyssey, and I will not baulk my fancy.
'Cause like the words here in this song
We'll go on and on and on with our love
Tho' the guru has the strongest likings and dislikings towards certain performances of Leon Russell's A Song for You;—there are some which hang so equally in the balance, that they are indifferent to him. The Carpenters and Amy Winehouse are of this class: These he calls neutral performances;—affirming that, like equal forces acting against each other in contrary directions, they mutually destroy each other's effects. Andy Williams is something like a negative quantity in Algebra with him;—'tis worse, he maintains, than nothing.——Simply Red again is low with him:—Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin stand pretty high:—but, of all the performances in the universe, he has the most unconquerable devotion to that of Donny Hathaway.
I've been so many places in my life and time
I've sung a lot of songs, I've made some bad rhymes
I've acted out my life in stages with ten thousand people watching
But we're alone now and I'm singing this song to you.
Ah!—I have recall'd a number by The Yummy Fur that is excellently good for the theme.——O, but I am proceeding a little too rapidly. You must beg my pardon, while I first invite Yachts to perform a song thirsting on meta-textuality. ——If the Yummies will wait patiently, my write-up will jog along and, barring further interruptions or incumbrances, will reach them presently.
So what d'you think of it so far? You know I'm feeling rather proud
My words have never been that strong, things really are improving now
I never wrote a middle eight, so we'll just have to do without
But there's an instrumental break – just after this
Some of your nominations, I observe, study and ruminate upon the subject of political or civil government, and others besides upon the conjunction betwixt male and female for procreation of the species. Whilst there is nothing improper in these topics, The Frank and Walters disdain them,—and, moreover, the topics of animals, trees, or rich and poor,—in favour of a tender song about love and friendship.
This is not a song about politics, this is not a song about sex
If you want, I'll talk about arrogance and if you're respectfully dressed
This song is not about old James Dean,
'Cause he's mentioned in too many songs already, my friend
Let us go now to the Cafe Au Go Go, and to the warmth and joy imparted by The New Stan Getz Quartet with Astrud Gilberto,—and, moreover, to the prowesse of composer Antônio Carlos Jobim and lyricist Newton Mendonça. The singular notation of their song will be further explained in a musical score, now in the hands of the engraver, which will be added to a later edition of my write-up.
This is just a little samba, built upon a single note
Other notes are bound to follow but the root is still that note
Now the new one is the consequence of the one we've just been through
As I'm bound to be the unavoidable consequence of you
Steve Swallow is a bass player of prodigious accomplishment;——but Carla Bley, ever given to the creation of musical mischief, has allotted him the mere simplest of melodies, to permit him to shew his singing talents. Lay down the write-up, and I will allow you, dear reader, half a day to give a probable guess at the grounds of this decision.
Here's a very very simple melody that Carla wrote especially for me
She said everyone according to their ability and then she gave the simplest one to me
If I concentrate, I know I won't go wrong
And then maybe someday, I'll get a better song
In the whole catalogue of those whiffling vexations which come puffing across a writer's canvass, there is not one of a more teasing and tormenting nature than attempting to explain one's work to a father, mother or other close relative, which same predicament hast befallen Billie Eilish. I venture to recommend to her the choice of a nom de plume, such as that which graces my title page.
My mommy likes to sing along with me, but she won't sing this song
If she reads all the lyrics, she'll pity the men I know
It is so long since my readers have been parted from The Yummy Fur, that it is high time to mention them again;—to put you in mind that there was such a Scottish indie rock band once in the world, who were good enough to mark out the moment in the song Roxy Girls at which Part Two of its narrative begins,—and, moreover, to apologise to their listeners that social comment has by this stage all but dissolved, as the song descends into unaccountable obliquity.
Young skinnies and Roxies alike, they will forever continue to fight.
I'm ambivalent, I like them all, and this song has no point at all.
All of us who play this game have our Hobby-Horses.——Be it known to you, that I keep a couple of pads myself, upon which, in their turns, (nor do I care who knows it) I frequently ride out and take the air. One such Hobby-Horse has been Five Years by David Bowie, which,—tho' this will leave me unhors'd,—I will now ride headlong into the A-list. It contains but a single self-referential fragment;——but, as the singer leaps, without warning, o'er the fourth wall,—and directly into the homes and hearts of his listeners,—it offers an exquisite and poignant example of our theme.
I think I saw you in an ice cream parlour, drinking milkshakes cold and long.
Smiling and waving and looking so fine, don't think you knew you were in this song.
Heavens, are you still working on those playlists? quoth my wife,—who says I have a strong spice of that in my temper, which is known by the name of perseverance in a good cause,—and of obstinacy in a bad one. ——Pray, how do you intend to complete this write-up? ——Well, I have learn'd a trick from Belle and Sebastian.
This is just a modern rock song, this is just a tender affair
I count "three, four" and then we start to slow, because a song has got to stop somewhere
Before we conclude, however,—let us consider the task given to a Song Bar guru, whose pen is handed on week by week, adding to an unfolding record of musical, lyrical and thematic connections, produced by the hive mind of the Song Bar's patrons;—All of which, in a zig-zaggery way, puts me in mind of an apposite number by Procol Harum.
I sat me down to write a simple story which maybe in the end became a song
The words have all been writ by one before me, we're taking turns in trying to pass them on
There, the A-list is off my hands. I’ll not say a further word about it——here it is;—in publishing it—I have appealed to the world——and to the world I leave it;—it must speak for itself.
The Acutely Self-Aware A-list Playlist:
Part 1:
Stan Kenton – Prologue (This Is an Orchestra!)
Odyssey – Inside Out
Donny Hathaway – A Song for You
Yachts – Suffice to Say
The Frank and Walters – This Is Not a Song
The New Stan Getz Quartet with Astrud Gilberto – One Note Samba
Interlude:
The Carla Bley Band – Very Very Simple
Part 2:
Billie Eilish – Bad Guy
The Yummy Fur – Roxy Girls
David Bowie – Five Years
Belle and Sebastian – This Is Just a Modern Rock Song
Procol Harum – Pilgrim's Progress
The Breaking the Fourth Wall B-list Playlist:
Marty Feldman – The B Side
"This is great, isn't it? All alone on the B-side. The side of the record no one ever plays. Can say what I like on this side, you see. Do what I like, nobody knows – all playing the other side."
Simon & Garfunkel – Leaves That Are Green
"I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song, I'm twenty-two now but I won't be for long."
Christine and the Queens – Comme Si
"Let's, for the whole song, just pretend that all along, I've been there infectious. That's what I dream of, when penning this verse."
The Burning Hell – Amateur Rappers
"Because my body is mortal but my rhymes are unkillable. Look at me slice through this song with all its dipthongs and syllables. My lips spit quick, it's a slick trick, I've got mad skills, it's not making me rich, but hey, it pays the bills. It's true, cross my heart, this is a work of non-fiction, so don't fall apart when I whip out my diction."
Pete Rock & CL Smooth – The Creator
"Yo, Pete, there's a girl on the phone." –– "Tell her to hold cause I'm busy kickin' rhymes to the rhythm."
Todd Rundgren – Chain Letter
"This is how I thought I'd start my song and it seems a little silly when I think of it, but now I'm so far along."
Neil Young – Borrowed Tune
"I'm singin' this borrowed tune I took from the Rolling Stones. Alone in this empty room, too wasted to write my own."
The Gladiators – Song in My Head
"Wake up this morning with a song in my head, put it in words on a piece of paper. Light up my spliff with good concentration. Arrange this beat, then I begun to sing."
The Four Intruders – This Is My Song
"This is my song, this is all I have to say now."
Car Seat Headrest – Bodys
"Is it the chorus yet? No, it's just the building of the verse. So when the chorus does come, it'll be more rewarding."
Wire – Comet
"It's a comet coming this way with your name on it. It's a heaven-sent extinction event. And the chorus goes … and the chorus goes … b-b-b-b-b-bang. Then a whimper."
Quiet Sun – Rongwrong
"I'm looking in my little black book to see if I was right or rongwrong, within the confines of whoremonger logic, to even try to sing this song."
The Z-list:
These fine specimens were all chosen for previous topics.
Al Green – L-O-V-E (Love) (Valentine's Day Songs, 2012)
"I started to write this song about you, and then I decided – that I would write it all about love"
King Curtis – Memphis Soul Stew (Songs about Musical Instruments, 2007)
"Give me about a half a teacup of bass. Now I need a pound of fatback drums. Now give me four tablespoons of boiling Memphis guitars. This goin' taste alright"
Pulp – Something Changed (Songs about Change, 2006, the first ever Readers Recommend topic)
"Where would I be now if we'd never met? Would I be singing this song to someone else instead?"
Matching Mole – Signed Curtain (Songs about Futility, 2011)
"And this is the chorus, or perhaps it's a bridge, or just another part of the song that I'm singing"
Chic – Will You Cry (When You Hear This Song) (Songs about Crying, 2006)
"When you hear this song will you cry? 'Cause you know you're wrong - will you cry?"
Baccara – Yes Sir, I Can Boogie (So Bad [sic] They're Good, 2015)
"Yes sir, already told you in the first verse and in the chorus, but I will give you one more chance"
Fujiya & Miyagi – Extended Dance Mix (Songs with Self-Deprecation, 2020)
"As the kick drum flexes its metaphorical muscles, my dermatitis flares up and becomes increasingly unsubtle. My ankles click to the songs that were never hits, like this Fujiya & Miyagi extended dance mix"
The Beatles – Only a Northern Song (Songs with Non-Sequiturs, 2020)
"If you're listening to this song, you may think the chords are going wrong. But they're not, he just wrote it like that"
Thin Lizzy – Don't Believe a Word (Songs about Choosing and Using Words, 2014)
"Don't believe me if I tell you that I wrote this song for you. There just might be some other silly pretty girl I'm singing to"
Camera Obscura – The Sweetest Thing (Songs about Love Songs, 2017)
"You challenged me to write a love song. Here it is, I think I got it wrong. I focused on the negative. The pain was too much to write and sing"
Public Image Limited – This Is Not a Love Song (Songs about Songs, 2006)
"This is not a love song. This is not a love song. This is not a love song. This is not a love song …"
Magazine – A Song from Under the Floorboards (Songs about Songs, 2006)
"This is a song from under the floorboards, this is a song from where the wall is cracked"
Tristram Shandy: 'I have a strong propensity in me to begin this chapter very nonsensically, and I will not balk my fancy.--Accordingly I set off thus’
Guru's Wildcard Picks:
If you'll forgive the indulgence, one final 12-song playlist. This one opens with Captain Beefheart's My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains and its poignant closing lines (I hate to have other people hear me sing this song, but if it reaches you before I do, follow this song and "I love you"). And it closes with Shari Lewis attempting to stop the puppets and kids on Lamb Chop's Play-Along from tormenting us with The Song That Doesn't End.
These playlists were inspired by readers' song nominations from last week's topic: Reflect back on this: meta songs. The next topic will launch on Thursday at 1pm UK time.
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