BOTL Pot 2

[MK Shrimper]

Choose away.

 

[Blueronron]

Ian Anderson love his music sooooo much

 

[Colorado Shrimper]

Nobody captures the essence of British life like Morrissey. He was able to weave 'sycophantic slags' into a song and make it sound like the most natural and logical statement.

He was also able to capture loneliness, desperation and existential dread perfectly and succinctly: 'I think about life and I think about death.....and neither one particularly appeals to me'

His solo work is not as appealing as the classic Smiths catalogue, but he's never lost the ability to write a perfect lyric

And then there's this:

 

[RHB]

Got to be Chris Difford for me. If it hadn't been for @Firestorm have quicker pinkies than me this man would have been my first choice. Squeeze were one of those bands that reflected society of that time and at one point they were being touted as the successors to the Beatles, high praise indeed. one of my all time favourite lines -'I'm invited in for coffee And I give the dog a bone' from Cool For Cats.

 

[Colorado Shrimper]

From Trav LeBlanc's wonderful study of Morrissey:

Morrissey always wrote for a British audience. His songs made cultural reference to obscure towns in England and regional slang that Morrissey knew damn well would go over the heads of even the most Anglophilic American audiences. The Smiths made music like they didn’t give a damn if a single American bought it.
It was always raining in the world of The Smiths, and you could feel the dreary North Atlantic weather through the speakers. His music really transported you to the streets of Manchester.
The Smiths had negligible American and zero black influence. Nothing was “cool” or “awesome” or “dope.” Morrissey wrote like an aristocrat but from a working-class perspective. If he used street slang, it was of the homegrown (and usually archaic) British variety. The Smiths’ songs took place in a world where England was still unmistakably English and people still called each other “the bee’s knees” and whatnot.

 

[Benfleet A1]

If you even know who Ian Anderson is then instantly your mind has visions of a slightly deranged scotsman with even more deranged hair, standing on one foot playing the flute. Anderson, the founder, lead singer, flutist, guitarist, song writer and wild eyed loon of Jethro Tull.

Few bands have had such staying power with so little air play and that is down to the brilliance of Anderson with not a little help from some exceptionally talented musicians behind him.

I'm going to need some help here. Could someone who has voted for Ian Anderson kindly put the following vids up, as everything is done from my phone and like me is old and knackered and won't let me post video's.

Bouree
Aqualung
Heavy Horses
Nothing is Easy
Songs from the Woods

Such a talented band led by a very talented man.

 

[Benfleet A1]

Oh, and he hasn't turned into a raving racist nutcase either.

 

[Colorado Shrimper]

Oh, and he hasn't turned into a raving racist nutcase either.

I didn't know that about Chris Difford. Interesting.

 

[Shrimpers are Magic]

Huge Smiths fan, think I have everything they’ve done.
This is why I’ve voted for Ian Anderson.
It was basically cod pieces versus daffodils.

 

[Yorkshire Blue]

If you even know who Ian Anderson is then instantly your mind has visions of a slightly deranged scotsman with even more deranged hair, standing on one foot playing the flute. Anderson, the founder, lead singer, flutist, guitarist, song writer and wild eyed loon of Jethro Tull.

Few bands have had such staying power with so little air play and that is down to the brilliance of Anderson with not a little help from some exceptionally talented musicians behind him.

I'm going to need some help here. Could someone who has voted for Ian Anderson kindly put the following vids up, as everything is done from my phone and like me is old and knackered and won't let me post video's.

Bouree
Aqualung
Heavy Horses
Nothing is Easy
Songs from the Woods

Such a talented band led by a very talented man.

It's about lyricists. Don't put up videos, put up lyrics!

 

[MK Shrimper]

It's painful to see what Morrissey has become, but in his pomp he was utterly unique.

 

[Colorado Shrimper]

It's about lyricists. Don't put up videos, put up lyrics!

OK

I used to dream, and I used to vow
I wouldn’t dream of it now
We look to Los Angeles
For the language we use
London is dead, London is dead
London is dead, London is dead
London is dead, London is dead
Now I’m too much in love
I’m too much in love

(Morrissey - 'Glamorous Glue')

We may seem cold, or
We may even be
The most depressing people you’ve ever known
At heart, what’s left, we sadly know
That we are the last truly British people you’ll ever know
We are the last truly British people you will ever know
You’ll never never want to know

(Morrissey - 'We'll Let You Know')

And now I know how Joan of Arc felt
Now I know how Joan of Arc felt
As the flames rose to her Roman nose
And her Walkman started to melt

(The Smiths - 'Bigmouth Strikes Again')

And one more clip:

 

[Benfleet A1]

It's about lyricists. Don't put up videos, put up lyrics!

Well excuse me! I bloody will then, later.

 

[Blueronron]

It's about lyricists. Don't put up videos, put up lyrics!

"What difference does it make "

 

[MK Shrimper]

An unlikely leader at this stage. Note, in the event of a tie I will simply toss a coin.

 

[KAB]

Those championing Morrisey should check out Jake Thakary, he was a significant influence

 

[MK Shrimper]

In a three way tie I'll choose three monkeys to battle it out to the death.

 

[Ricky Otto]

Morrissey is a complete **** but he has written some great songs

 

[Shrimpers are Magic]

Aqualung
Jethro Tull

Sitting on a park bench
Eying little girls with bad intent
Snots running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes, hey, Aqualung
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run, hey, Aqualung
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck, oh, Aqualung
Sun streaking cold, an old man wandering lonely
Taking time, the only way he knows
Leg hurting bad as he bends to pick a dog end
He goes down to a bog and warms his feet
Feeling alone, the army's up the road
Salvation a la mode and a cup of tea
Aqualung, my friend, don't you start away uneasy
You poor old sod, you see it's only me
Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze
When the ice that clings on to your beard
It was screaming agony
Hey and…
Hey and you snatch your rattling last breaths
With deep-sea diver sounds
And the flowers bloom like
Madness in the spring
Sun streaking cold, an old man wandering lonely
Taking time, the only way he knows
Leg hurting bad as he bends to pick a dog end
He goes down to a bog and warms his feet
Feeling alone, the army's up the road
Salvation a la mode and a cup of tea
Aqualung my friend don't you start away uneasy
You poor old sod, you see it's only me
Aqualung my friend don't you start away uneasy
You poor old sod, you see it's only me
Sitting on a park bench
Eying up little girls with bad intent
Snots running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes, hey Aqualung
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run, hey Aqualung
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck, hey Aqualung
Oh Aqualung

 

[Colorado Shrimper]

I dreamt about you last night
And I fell out of bed twice
You can pin and mount me like a butterfly
But take me to the haven of your bed
Was something that you never said
Two lumps, please
You're the bee's knees
But so am I
Oh, meet me at the fountain
Shove me on the patio
I'll take it slowly
Oh
Fifteen minutes with you
Oh, I wouldn't say no
Oh, people see no worth in you
Oh, but I do
Fifteen minutes with you
Oh, no, I wouldn't say no
Oh, people see no worth in you
I do

(The Smiths - 'Reel Around the Fountain')

An afternoon nostalgia
Television show
You spoke in silhouette
(But they couldn't name you)
Although the panel were
Very polite to you
But I remembered you
From Friday nights 1969
ATV - you murdered every line
Too old to be a child star
Too young to take leads
Four seasons passed
And they axed you
Nervously juvenile
(Won't smile!)
What became of you?
Did that swift eclipse torture you?
A star at eighteen
And then-suddenly gone
Down to a few lines
In the back page of a teenage annual
Oh but I remembered you
I looked up to you

(Morrissey - 'Little Man, What Now?')