Tag Archives: Music Monday on Wednesday

Most requested

Ever since she was tiny, Bean has had a habit of monopolising CD players. She has very distinct opinions about music and makes those known with alarming, ear-piercing clarity. So, despite being known to have said things like ‘I’ll never be one of those parents who plays kids’ music in the car!’ I’ve learned to cater to her tastes. Luckily, hers and mine are starting to converge.

Here are two songs she’s been asking for over and over – if I put either of these albums on, I’m only ever allowed to play the one song on repeat. Oddly enough, they’re two of my favourites from these artists so there’s a nice bit of synchronicity going on.

Florence and the Machine -You’ve Got The Love

What’s not to love about Florence and the Machine? This song, despite overuse in commercials and whatever else, still kind of stirs me with its formidable optimism.

Lily Allen – Fuck You

Okay, so despite all my blustering I’d probably be mortified if Bean started to sing this at the supermarket. But at its heart, this is an anti-bigotry ditty and what could be a better influence than that? It got a good blasting in my car last week.

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Music not-Monday, vintage/youth edition

Kate Bush’s music has always been on my radar – it would have been hard not to notice her, so prolific and beloved is she. Wuthering Heights was her first single, released the year that I was born. I think it’s one of the more dated of her songs, but who can resist the Bronte reference?

Bush wrote Wuthering Heights when she was 18, and her first album The Kick Inside was released when she was just 20. The narrative of ‘young female musician used as a sexy puppet by the music industry’ is so familiar now, it is easy to forget that young women can, and did, and do, make wonderful, groundbreaking music on their own terms.

Loretta Lynn may have only started making music in her mid twenties, but her life was already full by then: she had been married for over a decade, and had birthed four children before her twentieth birthday. The travails of so much childbearing and a rocky marriage made an impression: she would later go on to sing, controversially, about the stigma of divorce, about female virginity, unwanted sexual advances from drunken husbands, about the Vietnam war, and most famously, about the pill. You don’t have to love country music to love Loretta for her beautiful voice and her frank fearlessness.

In 2004, at the age of 68, she released Van Lear Rose and reached a whole new generation of fans with Portland Oregon, a duet with Jack White. Still smart as a whip and one fancy lady.

And if you haven’t seen Coalminer’s Daughter with Sissy Spacek and Tommy Lee Jones, you might want to make a date with your DVD player sometime soon.

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Music not-Monday

Because I can’t stop grinning whenever I hear this song, it’s Music Wednesday again at Spilt Milk.

Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros: Home.

And, because I have a (totally cool) earworm and want to share it: Bulletproof by the wonderfully refreshing La Roux.

Enjoy!

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I will not say I’m all right, for you

I keep meaning to do Music Mondays but I’m not at all the kind of blogger who is organised and structured and I’ve decided not to fight it. So we’re having Music Wednesday!

This one’s for the mansplainers, trolls and douchebags out there, with a special shout-out to the people who tell me I’ve no reason to be so angry.

(Oh, by the way, I’m not feeling particularly angry today. Isn’t that nice?)

Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole by Martha Wainwright

Poetry is no place for a heart that’s a whore
And I’m young and I’m strong
But I feel old and tired
Overfired

And I’ve been poked and stoked
It’s all smoke, there’s no more fire
Only desire
For you, whoever you are
For you, whoever you are

You say my time here has been some sort of joke
That I’ve been messing around
Some sort of incubating period
For when I really come around
I’m cracking up
And you have no idea

No idea how it feels to be on your own
In your own home
with the fucking phone
And the mother of gloom
In your bedroom
Standing over your head
With her hand in your head
With her hand in your head

I will not pretend
I will not put on a smile
I will not say I’m all right for you
When all I wanted was to be good
To do everything in truth
To do everything in truth

Oh I wish I wish I wish I was born a man
So I could learn how to stand up for myself
Like those guys with guitars
I’ve been watching in bars
Who’ve been stamping their feet to a different beat
To a different beat
To a different beat

I will not pretend
I will not put on a smile
I will not say I’m all right for you
When all I wanted was to be good
To do everything in truth
To do everything in truth

You bloody mother fucking asshole
Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole
Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole
Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole
Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole
Oh you bloody…

I will not pretend
I will not put on a smile
I will not say I’m all right for you
For you, whoever you are
For you, whoever you are
For you, whoever you are

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