By George Boyland
"Rim a nim a nim a nim a nim a nim,” says Jonathan Richman and The Modern Lovers in their song The Beach. It's the sound of a happy car taking happy people to the seaside. I get it. I live by the sea, grew up by the sea. Beaches were my every summer weekend. Jonathan relishes the stink of sweat and the weird body varieties of beach folk. He says you get to see who they really are. I disagree; my teenage self and my best mate met two buxom girls on Crosby beach. I recall this sturdy girl in a bronze bikini. We agreed to meet after changing into our street clothes. Jimbo (the mate) and I strolled across the sand in our Jimi Hendrix outfits to meet them. They were wearing girl guide uniforms. We managed to skulk away. You see, Jon was wrong, you only see a version of humanity on the beach.
Pete Townshend of The Who spent his childhood summer holidays on the Isle Of Man. On a clear day you can see it from my part of the coast. Only 70 miles. But, why would a Londoner spend six weeks there when the Isle of Wight was the more viable option?
Answer – his father was in a showband and they had a six-week residency on Mona's Isle. Summer in summer out. The Who's Happy Jack is a genuine childhood reminiscence of Townshend and his friends burying a simple fella in the sand up to his smile. Despite some people putting it down as a piece of fluff, it was The Who's first US hit. For me it's a happy fluffy pop song telling a true tale, and I'm all right with that.
Ah, children in the sand learning to make castles, carrying a crenellated bucket and a spade. Who hasn't done that? Toddlers toppling over, landing softly, amazed that nothing hurts. Dreaming of the future now they've time to think. Life is a procession, according to Family's Processions. These guys were from Leicester, about as far from the sea as you can get in Britain, so something was special. I once met an old couple from Stoke-on-Trent at West Kirby. They said it was Stoke's nearest beach.
The Drifters' I've Got Sand In My Shoes is here because apart from being a great pop song it's also a recognition of every seaside day out we've ever had. I wouldn't wear my 'good' shoes to the beach, sand destroys them. Let's face it, going to the beach is like going on holiday. OK, you don't have to go through all the airport crap, you don't have to pay for hotels, taxis and insurance, you just turn up, buy an ice cream or a hot dog, sit down let your eyes glaze over and gaze out to sea.
It seems Freddie McGregor keeps himself fit, which I commend. I'm too old to be fit now, but I boxed for 10 years, played football for 25 years and cycled 100-milers on my racing bike until my late fifties. Now my body doesn't do what I want it to. I try to bribe it, but I'm stuck inside it. I wish I was with Freddie McGregor running on the beach in his song Jogging. He's telling us about his running shoes. Truth is, I only cared if they were useful and comfortable, they weren't for flash. One time, on Formby beach with my dog Sammy, I sprinted as hard as I could on the hard sand, and the world turned to jelly. Everything shimmered like a pudding on a plate. I'd entered a different zone, a different consciousness, and I ran and ran, powered by joy. Then Sammy ran across me and stopped me. He knew something I didn't. Freddie brought it all back.
Can't find the lyrics to Bomb The Bass's Sandcastles’. I'm not sure what they're on about but I assume it's on topic. It's a lovely piece of music but unfortunately I am unable to further comment.
My Spanish is nothing to brag about, but when Makinavaja nominates a chunk of flamenco I have to take notice. I asked my Spanish musician friend about this tune a couple of days ago and he backed Maki up. I love the music, and apparently it's on topic; sandcastles. Well, one or two of us have been to Spain on our hols, we've been on the sand, we've sweated on a Med beach with a jug of sangria and a plate of tapas, so here goes . . . El Camaron de La Isla and Paco de Lucia - Como Castillo de Arena.
Sand as metaphor. You get that sinking feeling? I'm at the All Fours club. Underlit, coloured glass squares composed the floor, everybody there just to dance, to Motown. Doubt if anyone's over twenty. My silver-grey mohair suit shining under the strobes. This was life, this was the future, this was pride. Truth is, the music was a blinker, and there was no future, just girls, and posing, and the town and the clubs, and the Quicksand, by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas.
"Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word."
Ooh, that was the big fella. Noting the shoals. As an island nation, populated by sailors, we know about wrecks, and the sands that are as dangerous as reefs or rocks. The Whiskey Rebellion – Goodwin Sands.
Misty In Roots's Wise And Foolish notes that you can trip over opposites without knowing. To them, there are two sides of the coin; one the solid, and the other the shifting sands. They urge us not to build our house on sand, we must search for solid ground.
Taska Black reckons that sandpaper can act as a qualm to a lost lover. Yes, it rounds the edges and smooths the surface, but I reckon if you've got to work that hard to mould someone into the image you require you've already lost them so sod it. But what a tune!! Sandpaper (ft Avelle):
And last, this is why Bob Dylan was awarded the Noble Prize For Literature. It's hard to find Dylan recordings on the internet, so Emmylou Harris's version is what was offered, and it will certainly do. It's a poem of introspection, looking at one's life with a degree of honesty and reflection. We've all made mistakes, but have we opened up to them and registered them so that they remain on record after we depart this world? Every Grain Of Sand represents our humble and fragile humanity, yet the sand will exist long after we have left this world.
Now the Aggregate A-List Playlist In One Continuous Coastal Stretch:
Big Sandbank’n’ Beach B-List:
Bonobo - Black Sands
Bill Nelson - Life Runs Out Like Sand
The Bees - Hourglass
Temples - Sand Dance
Donald Fagen - On The Dunes
The B-52's - Theme For A Nude Beach
Brain Ticket - Black Sand.
The God Machine - Desert Song
Maggie Holland - Morecambe Bay
The Youngbloods - Quicksand
Wire - Sand In My Joints
Beyoncé - Sandcastles
Squeeze - Hourglass
These playlists were inspired by readers' song nominations from last week's topic: That sinking feeling: songs about sand. The next topic will launch on Thursday at 1pm UK time.
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