Jessie’s Girl (1981) – Rick Springfield

Posted on August 2, 2025 by observationblogger — 7 Comments

The last time I heard Jessie’s Girl played, I assumed I’d already written about it – since I always got a kick out of it during my late teens and early adulthood. That’s when I first heard it in nightclubs, like one called The Bin in Canberra (Australia’s capital). We’d slam dance to it – purposely crashing into each other in wave-like unison on the dance floor (as you do). Boys will be boys, as they say. It was a lot of fun at the time, though looking back, pretty reckless and just plain ol’ stupid. Anyway, strangely, I overlooked Jessie’s Girl in my Music Library Project – perhaps because I’d already written about Joshua Kadison’s breezier romantic escapade, Jessie (1993), and confused the two.

Jessie’s Girl had fallen off my radar until I heard it again in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Golden Age of Porn” movie, Boogie Nights. This fairly innocent song about the unrequited love of a young man for his best friend’s girlfriend is used to great – and oddly jarring – effect in one of the most nail-biting scenes of the film. It’s where the junkie protagonists – Dirk, Reed, and their unhinged friend Todd Parker – try to scam local drug dealer Rahad Jackson by selling him a half-kilo of baking soda disguised as cocaine. Now, finally, onto some detail of the song itself… First and foremost, I had no idea this was an Australian song until reading about it just now.

The following was abridged from the Wikipedia article below:
Jessie’s Girl is a song written and performed by Australian singer Rick Springfield. It was released on the album Working Class Dog, which was released in February 1981. Upon its release in the United States Jessie’s Girl was slow to break out taking 19 weeks to hit No. 1. It remained in that position for two weeks and would be Springfield’s only No. 1 hit. It won him a Grammy Award for Best Male Rock Vocal Performance at the 24th Annual Grammy Awards.

Background
Rick Springfield was taking a stained glass class. Also in the class was his friend Gary as well as Gary’s girlfriend. Springfield initially wanted to use the actual name of his friend, but instead decided to go with a different name. He chose “Jessie” because he was wearing a T-shirt with the name of football player Ron Jessie on it.

Springfield says that he does not remember the name of the girlfriend, and he believes that the real woman who inspired the song has no idea that she was “Jessie’s Girl“. He told Oprah Winfrey, “I was never really introduced to her. It was always just, like, panting from afar.” Winfrey’s people tried to find her, and they got as far back as finding out that the teacher of the class had died two years previously and that his class records were thrown out one year after his death.

References:
1. Jessie’s Girl – Wikipedia

Tagged with: Boogie Nights, jessie's girl, rick springfield, working class dog
Posted in Music

The Sound of Silence (1964) – Simon & Garfunkel

Posted on August 1, 2025 by observationblogger — 17 Comments

I used to go off in the bathroom, because the bathroom had tiles, so it was a slight echo chamber. I’d turn on the faucet so that water would run (I like that sound, it’s very soothing to me) and I’d play. In the dark. ‘Hello darkness, my old friend / I’ve come to talk with you again‘.

– Paul Simon

Like its title suggests, The Sound of Silence strips awareness down to its bare essence. It opens with a gentle, almost quaint guitar line and tiptoes forward as the narrator welcomes a deep connection with solitude and darkness. That quiet encounter plants seeds in his consciousness, which then sprout into a reflective journey – one that reveals a world numbed by indifference, injustice, and material excess.

Paul Simon wrote the song just three months after the assassination of President Kennedy, when he was only 21. It was released in early 1964. Following the tragedy, Simon (as he said above) locked himself in his family’s bathroom, searching for words in the silence.

The song has become so deeply woven into our cultural fabric that even the Catholic Church here in Colombia adapted its melody for a song called Padre Nuestro (Our Father) – much like they did with Dylan’s Blowin’ in the Wind, turning it into Saber Que Vendras (Know That You Will Come).

I think I first became aware of The Sound of Silence while watching the 1967 film The Graduate, a staple in our household. In fact, it’s hard for me to hear this legendary track without instantly thinking of that film.

Most of the following was condensed from the Wikipedia article below:

Simon & Garfunkel originally recorded an acoustic version for their debut album and received disappointing sales. An overdubbed electric version was released the next year, without S & G’s knowledge and went to No, 1 on the Billboard. Apart from The Graduate soundtrack album,The Sound of Silence was additionally released on the Mrs. Robinson EP in 1968, along with three other songs from the film: Mrs. Robinson, April Come She Will, and Scarborough Fair/Canticle. Interestingly, Bob Dylan drew upon arrangements by Martin Carthy – who introduced him to Scarborough Fair– and even retained a line from its refrain in his song Girl From The North Country: “Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine.”

Origin
Simon & Garfunkel billed themselves “Kane & Garr”, after old recording pseudonyms, and signed up for Gerde’s Folk City, a Greenwich Village club that hosted Monday night performances. In September 1963, the duo’s performances caught the attention of Columbia Records producer Tom Wilson, a young African-American musician and producer who would later help guide Bob Dylan’s transition from folk to rock. Simon convinced Wilson to let him and his partner have a studio audition; their performance of The Sound of Silence got the duo signed to Columbia.

[Verse 1]
Hello, darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

[Verse 2]
In restless dreams, I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

[Verse 3]
And in the naked light, I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

[Verse 4]
“Fools,” said I, “You do not know
Silence, like a cancer, grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops, fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

[Verse 5]
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence”

References:
1. The Sound of Silence – Wikipedia

Tagged with: Simon & Garfunkel, Sounds of Silence, the graduate, The Sounds of Silence, Wednesday Morning 3am
Posted in Music

The Show Goes On (1988) – Bruce Hornsby & The Range

Posted on July 31, 2025 by observationblogger — 8 Comments

The Show Goes On is a moving and poignant song which I first heard in the movie Backdraft during the training scenes of a rookie in a Chicago Firefighting department. Although Backdraft received mixed reviews I enjoyed watching it in my early adulthood particularly the scene when today’s featured music appears. Hornsby’s voice embodies a sense of intimacy and narrative which draws you in, like it does with his big hit – The Way It Is.

After all these years listening to The Show Goes On, I still find it an emotional and immersive experience because of Hornsby’s singing and the skilfully crafted arrangement. It includes a nice piano solo in the middle, and a sweet little electric guitar solo towards the end of the song.

Bruce Hornsby clarified the meaning of The Show Goes On In a 2019 interview here with John Beaudin:

“It’s about a girl who uses bad judgement. It’s about a girl that I (the singer) really like, and I see her falling for the wrong guys who use her. She’s on a long list of victims. The “show” is basically she’s putting on this show and everyone’s just gossiping about her”.

The song was not a single but remains a popular song from Bruce Hornsby’s catalogue. It comes from his second album – Scenes From the South Side. The single The Valley Road from the record was Hornsby’s third (and last) Top 10 U.S. hit, peaking at number five on the Billboard.Also it became his third chart-topper on the Billboard adult contemporary chart, following The Way It Is and Mandolin Rain.

[Verse 1]
What’s the long face, what’s all the crying for?
Didn’t you expect it when you opened your door?
To the man with the long coat, and the long list of victims
Everybody watching knows he’s the one keeping the score

[Pre-Chorus]
From where she sits, everyone stands in judgment
People watching as the curtain falls down
See the lights do a long slow fade

[Chorus]
The show goes on, and the sad-eyed sisters go walking on
Everyone watching all along
The show goes on
As the autumn’s coming and the summer’s all gone
Still without you, the show goes on

[Verse 2]
Some say she’s alright, some say she’ll never learn
Some rush into things, some stand and wait their turn
I’ve been here all along standing here all this time
But you never noticed, just let the same tired flames burn

[Bridge]
Time is passing, slowly passing you by
You better try, try to find it before it passes you by
As I watch you walking to another cold dawn
And you keep on walking
And they keep on talking
Talking all along

[Outro]
Oh, the summer’s all gone
Still without you, the show goes on
Oh-oh, oh, the summer’s all gone
Still without you, the show goes on

References:
1. Scenes from the Southside – Wikipedia

Tagged with: backdraft, bruce hornsby & the range, scenes from the south side, the show goes on
Posted in Music

The Shoals Of Herring (written by Ewan MacColl) – Luke Kelly and the Dubliners

Posted on July 29, 2025 by observationblogger — 2 Comments

Thanks to the Coen Brothers for reviving the folk ballad The Shoals of Herring in their film Inside Llewyn Davis. Oscar Isaac, who plays the down-on-his-luck protagonist Llewyn Davis, delivers a tender rendition of the song to his father in a care facility — moments before the poignancy is undercut by the father soiling himself just as the final notes fade. The scene is consistent with the film’s tone, portraying Llewyn as a lost soul trapped in a brutal world where relentless misfortune hammers him at every turn. They sure did give him a lot of crosses to bear. However, the version of The Shoals of Herring I want to look at today is Luke Kelly and the Dubliners version.

The following was condensed from the two Wikipedia articles below:
Originally written by Ewan MacColl in 1960 for a BBC radio documentary called Singing the Fishing, the song became a staple among folk singers and was later popularized by The Dubliners. MacColl wrote it after interviewing real-life herring fishers, and it reflects the gritty reality of their lives. He wrote that the song was based on the life of Sam Larner, a fisherman and traditional singer from Winterton-on-Sea, Norfolk, England. You can hear MacColl’s original here.
Liam Clancy (The Clancy Brothers) said the following about the song (which he said was one of the most requested) before his version here: “he (MacColl) tape recorded all the old fisherman up along the east coast of England. And he never used one word of his own. … He rhymed the lines that the fishermen had given him, and he made it into a song…”

The Dubliners were an Irish folk band founded in Dublin in 1962. The line-up saw many changes in personnel over their fifty-year career, but the group’s success was centred on lead singers Luke Kelly and Ronnie Drew. The band garnered international success with their lively Irish folk songs, traditional street ballads and instrumentals. Luke Kelly was more of a balladeer than Drew, and he played chords on the five-string banjo. Kelly sang many defining versions of traditional songs including today’s song The Shoals of Herring.

In 1980, Luke Kelly was diagnosed with a brain tumour. Occasionally Kelly was too ill to sing though he was sometimes able to join the band for a few songs. While on tour in Germany he collapsed on stage. He continued to tour with the band until two months before his death. Kelly died on 30 January 1984. One of the last concerts in which he took part was recorded and released: Live in Carré, recorded in Amsterdam, Netherlands, released in 1983. In November 2004, the Dublin city council voted unanimously to erect a bronze statue of Luke Kelly.

With our nets and gear we’re faring
On the wild and wasteful ocean
It’s out there on the deep we harvest and reap
Our bread
As we hunt the bonnie shoals of herring

O, it was a fine and a pleasant day
Out of Yarmouth harbour I was faring
As a cabin boy on a sailing lugger
We were following the shoals of herring

Now you’re up on deck, you’re a fisherman
You can swear and show a manly bearing
Take your turn and watch with the other fellas
As you’re hunting for the shoals of herring

Now we fished the Swarth and the Broken Bank
I was cook and I’d a quarter-sharing
And I used to sleep standing on me feet
As we hunted for the shoals of herring

We left the home grounds in the month of June
And for canny Shields we soon were bearing
With a hundred cran of the silver darlings
That we’d taken from the shoals of herring

In the stormy seas and the living gales
Just to earn your daily bread you’re faring
From the Dover Straits to the Faroe Islands
And you’re hunting for the shoals of herring

Well, I earned me keep and I paid me way
And I earned the gear that I was wearing
Sailed a million miles, caught ten million fishes
We were hunting after shoals of herring

You’re net ropeman now, boy you’re on the move
And you’re learning all about seafaring
That’s your education, scraps of navigation
As you hunt the bonnie shoals of herring

Night and day the seas we’re daring
Come wind or calm or winter gale
Sweating or cold, growing up, growing old
Or dying
As you hunt the bonnie shoals of herring

References:
1. The Shoals of Herring – Wikipedia
2. The Dubliners – Wikipedia

Tagged with: Coen brothers, Ewan MacColl, Inside Llewyn Davis, Luke Kelly, the Dubliners, The Shoals Of Herring
Posted in Music

It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll) – AC/DC

Posted on July 28, 2025 by observationblogger — 13 Comments

Here endeth the short trip down Australian music lane, prompted by the Top 30 Australian songs listing by the Australasian Performing Right Association (APRA). Being Aussie, my blog is choc-full of Australian songs, though most lean more towards the independent and lesser-known side than the commercial hits I’ve highlighted over the last few days — including today’s heavy-rock mega-hit from that APRA list.

Now, heavy rock or metal aren’t exactly my go-to genres, but every now and then something blows my musical senses — like Metallica’s One, or let’s just have at it — AC/DC’s It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll).

It’s a Long Way is about the grind and hardship of rock ’n’ roll bands trying to make it big. The irony, though, is that AC/DC make it sound so effortless — with fantastic writing, scorching instrumentals (featuring one of rock’s most iconic guitar riffs and a bagpipe solo to die for), and Bon Scott’s voice slicing through the air like a razor. He sings about bad conditions: poorly paid gigs in dodgy venues, endless time on the road in cheap transport, and dealing with everything from hostile crowds to plain hard living.

Unlike so many other heavy rock tracks, I never tire of this early masterpiece from the legendary group. It’s a Long Way to the Top sits as my joint favourite AC/DC song alongside their later smash-hit Thunderstruck — which, rest assured, won’t take long to turn up here.
Long Way is the first track of the group’s second album T.N.T., released only in Australia and New Zealand on 8 December 1975, and was written by Angus Young, Malcolm Young and Bon Scott. Despite being one of the band’s most popular songs, AC/DC chose to retire the song from live performance out of respect for Scott following his death.

ACDC were formed in Sydney in 1973 and became Australia’s most successful musical export selling over 200 million records worldwide, making them one of the best-selling artists of all time. They are cited as a formative influence on the new wave of British heavy metal bands and were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2003.

The music video below was filmed in 1976 for a budget of $380. It features the band and the members of the Rats of Tobruk Pipe band on the back of a flatbed truck travelling on Swanston Street in Melbourne. A street, by the way I’m more than familiar with, having worked just a block away.

[Intro]
Alright

[Verse 1]
Ridin’ down the highway
Goin’ to a show
Stoppin’ on the byways
Playin’ rock ‘n’ roll

[Pre-Chorus]
Gettin’ robbed, gettin’ stoned
Gettin’ beat up, broken-boned
Gettin’ had, gettin’ took
I tell you, folks, it’s harder than it looks

[Chorus]
It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll
It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll
If you think it’s easy doin’ one-night stands
Try playin’ in a rock-roll band
It’s a long way to the top if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll

[Verse 2]
Hotel, motel
Make you wanna cry
Ladies do the hard sell
Know the reason why

[Pre-Chorus]
Gettin’ old, gettin’ grey
Gettin’ ripped off, underpaid
Gettin’ sold, second-hand
That’s how it goes, playin’ in a band

[Chorus]

References:
1. It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll) – Wikipedia

Tagged with: ACDC, It's a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock 'n' Roll), tnt
Posted in Music

Down Under (1981) – Men at Work

Posted on July 27, 2025 by observationblogger — 9 Comments

There are few, if any Aussie songs more ‘true blue‘ and ‘dinky-dy’ than Men at Work’s – Down Under. It’s yet another song which made the all-time Top 30 Australian songs listed by the Australasian Performing Right Association (APRA). It came in at No. 4 just below Midnight Oil’s – Beds are Burning (1987) which featured here way back in 2019. Down Under is just a hoot, showcasing Australian’s unique humour, lexicon and openness traits. It’s beyond catchy and simply leaves the listener more jovial and lighthearted than before they went in. Also, there is perhaps no other Australian song more internationally recognised as quintessential ‘Aussie’ than Down Under.

Australia is referred to as Down Under due to its location in the Southern Hemisphere. The term originated from the perspective of European explorers who viewed Australia as being “below” the rest of the known world. The song further popularised the nickname.

Down Under was originally self-released in 1980 as a B-side to their first local single before the band signed a recording contract with Columbia Records. The slightly faster re-release went to number one in Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the United States. In fact it stayed at No. 1 in the US for four consecutive weeks and selling over 2 million copies alone. Even I had no idea how big a hit it was – at least not until I just read that. I assumed it was a sleeper hit and developed more of a cult status over the decades, but not to be.

Down Under remains popular of course and is often played at sporting events. As part of Triple M’s “Ozzest 100“, (an Australian radio station) – the ‘most Australian‘ songs of all time so far, Down Under was ranked number 2 behind Cold Chisel’s Khe Sanh which was yesterday’s featured track.
Down Under is perceived as a patriotic song in Australia, but co-founder and co-writer Colin Hay described the meaning of the lyric as follows:

The chorus is really about the selling of Australia in many ways, the overdevelopment of the country. It was a song about the loss of spirit in that country. It’s really about the plundering of the country by greedy people. It is ultimately about celebrating the country, but not in a nationalistic way and not in a flag-waving sense. It’s really more than that.

As I ease my way out of bloggerland for today, I just saw Men at Work are still touring. They are currently appearing at the The Great South Bay Music Festival at Shorefront Park in Patchogue, New York.

Traveling in a fried-out Kombi
On a hippie trail, head full of zombie
I met a strange lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said

[Chorus]
“Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover”

[Verse 2]
Buyin’ bread from a man in Brussels
He was six-foot-four and full of muscle
I said, “Do you speak-a my language?”
He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich
And he said

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Lyin’ in a den in Bombay
With a slack jaw, and not much to say
I said to the man, “Are you trying to tempt me?
Because I come from the land of plenty”
And he said

References:
1. Down Under (song) – Wikipedia

Tagged with: business as usual, down under, men at work
Posted in Music

Khe Sanh (1978) – Cold Chisel

Posted on July 26, 2025 by observationblogger — 7 Comments

We continue our journey down the Australian music rabbit hole with another one of the all-time Top 30 Australian songs listed by the Australasian Performing Right Association (APRA). Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel entails the testimony of a Vietnam Veteran dealing with his return to civilian life. It is one of the most popular songs ever recorded by an Australian act and generally seen as a resonant symbol of the Australian culture. Allmusic describes it as, “a song that will forever epitomize this period of Australian music.” It has been included in the National Film and Sound Archive of Australia.

When I was a Navy Midshipman undergoing three years of training, Khe Sanh became our unofficial anthem. At every pub we hit while on leave, the song would come on and we’d chant it at the top of our lungs, parading in a circle with our arms around each other’s shoulders. So it’s befitting Khe Sanh is recognised as part of a sub genre of music called Pub Rock (Australia) which is named after the live music circuit in inner-city and suburban pubs (known as bars in the US). It peaked in popularity throughout the 1970s and 1980s, and still influences Australian music today. These often noisy, hot, small and crowded venues favoured loud, riff-based heavy rock – more hard-edged than British pub rock. Acts like AC/DC and Cold Chisel achieved mainstream success developing on the sound.

Khe Sanh was the debut single from Cold Chisel and named after the district capital of Hướng Hóa District, Quảng Trị Province, Vietnam. It was written by pianist Don Walker who was known as a sort of Beat poet, and went around observing, especially around the seedy streets and soaking it up like a sponge. In fact the first draft of Khe Sanh was written in Sweethearts Cafe in Kings Cross, Sydney. Walker said the song was inspired by a number of people, including, “the guy from the next farm,” who came back from Vietnam, “severely changed for the worst“. He added “I originally wrote it as a punk song, but we found it worked better with a country-rock approach.”

Another Australian track about the experiences of a Vietnam War veteran which heavily impacted Australian society and culture was the song by Redgum called I was Only 19 (presented below Khe Sanh at the end of this post). It also featuring prominently during my military training period. Songwriter John Schumann wrote ‘I Was Only 19’ based on the stories and recollections of his brother-in-law (the “Denny” in the song is Schumann’s wife). The song went a long way to changing Australia’s attitudes toward those who fought in a very unpopular war.

[Verse 1]
I left my heart to the sappers round Khe Sanh
And my soul was sold with my cigarettes
To the black market man
I’ve had the Vietnam cold turkey
From the ocean to the Silver City
And it’s only other vets could understand

[Verse 2]
About the long forgotten dockside guarantees
How there were no V-Day heroes in 1973
How we sailed into Sydney Harbour
Saw an old friend but couldn’t kiss her
She was lined, and I was home to the lucky land

[Verse 3]
Well she was like so many more from that time on
Their lives were all so empty
Till they found their chosen one
And their legs were often open
But their minds were always closed
And their hearts were held in fast suburban chains

[Verse 4]
And the legal pads were yellow
Hours long, pay-packets lean
And the telex writers clattered
Where the gunships once had been
But the car parks made me jumpy
And I never stopped the dreams
Or the growing need for speed and novocain

[Verse 5]
So I worked across the country end to end
Tried to find a place to settle down
Where my mixed up life could mend
Held a job on an oil-rig
Flying choppers when I could
But the nightlife nearly drove me round the bend

[Verse 6]
And I’ve travelled round the world from year to year
And each one found me aimless
One more year the worse for wear
And I’ve been back to South East Asia
And the answer sure ain’t there
But I’m drifting north, to check things out again
Yes I am!

[Verse 7]
Well the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
And only seven flying hours, and I’ll be landing in Hong Kong
There ain’t nothing like the kisses
From a jaded Chinese princess
I’m gonna hit some Hong Kong mattress all night long

[Verse 8]
Well the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
You know the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
And it’s really got me worried
I’m goin’ nowhere and I’m in a hurry
And the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone

[Outro]
Well the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
You know the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone
It’s really got me worried
I’m goin’ nowhere and I’m in a hurry
You know the last plane out of Sydney’s almost gone

References:
1. Cold Chisel’s ‘Khe Sanh’ hot still – Independent Australia
2. Khe Sanh (song) – Wikipedia

Tagged with: cold chisel, I was only 19, khe sanh, Redgum
Posted in Music

The Ship Song (1990) – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Posted on July 25, 2025 by observationblogger — 4 Comments

The Ship Song – written by Nick Cave (both lyrics and music) – was one of the first songs I ever heard by him, if not the first, back in my late teens. It’s my desert island pick from his catalogue and still ranks as one of my all-time favourite Australian songs. In fact, I just found out The Ship Song was named by the Australasian Performing Right Association (APRA) as one of the Top 30 Australian songs of all time.

From the very first listen, I was floored by the raw lyrical imagery and swept away by the grandeur of its hymn-like melody. Honestly, I’m still in awe of it – even after hundreds of listens over the decades.

The tragic romance that is The Ship Song carries an almost apocalyptic air, and stands as one of his most anthemic works, right up there with Straight to You from the following album, Henry’s Dream. The video of Nick at the piano, surrounded by little ballerina-like princesses, perfectly captures the song’s strange blend of fairytale innocence and the turmoil of a ship at the mercy of a wild sea. That tension makes it feel timeless.

The music video was directed by John Hillcoat, who also directed the haunting Aussie western The Proposition – written by Cave himself – as well as The Road (2009), the adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s bleak and brilliant novel, which featured here on Friday’s Finest last year.

The Ship Song appears on Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ sixth studio album, The Good Son, and as alluded to above, it’s widely considered one of his finest works. Publications like Far Out and Mojo included it in their top 10 Nick Cave songs. What’s remarkable, though, is that despite all the praise it gets now, The Ship Song only peaked at No. 138 on the ARIA charts when it came out.

The following was abridged from the Wikipedia references below:

After two dark and harrowing studio albums with Your Funeral… My Trial (1986) and Tender Prey (1988), The Good Son was a substantial departure with a lighter and generally more uplifting sound. The change of mood was greatly inspired by lead vocalist Nick Cave falling in love with Brazilian journalist Viviane Carneiro, and an apparently salutary spell in rehab which purged much of the despair and squalor reflected in the previous two studio albums.

Cave later said, “I guess The Good Son is some kind of reflection of the way I felt early on in Brazil. I was quite happy there. I was in love and the first year or two was good. The problem I found was … in order to survive you have to adopt their attitudes towards everything, which are kind of blinkered.”

[Intro]
Come sail your ships around me
And burn your bridges down
We make a little history, baby
Every time you come around
Come loose your dogs upon me
And let your hair hang down
You are a little mystery to me
Every time you come around

[Verse 1]
We talk about it all night long
We define our moral ground
But when I crawl into your arms
Everything, it comes tumbling down

[Chorus]
Come sail your ships around me
And burn your bridges down
We make a little history, baby
Every time you come around

[Verse 2]
Your face has fallen sad now
For you know the time is nigh
When I must remove your wings
And you, you must try to fly

References:
1. The Ship Song – Wikipedia
2. The Good Son (album) – Wikipedia

Tagged with: nick cave and the bad seeds, the good son, the ship song
Posted in Music

How Deep is Your Love (1977) – Bee Gees

Posted on July 24, 2025 by observationblogger — 7 Comments

Yesterday afternoon, I watched the Bee Gees documentary How to Mend a Broken Heart. Apart from their music, breakout performances in Australia during their youth, their disco heyday, and the early passing of twins Robin and Maurice, I realised I knew surprisingly little about their full story as a group. What really struck me was how, after their initial run of hits, they became something of a musical pariah – pushed aside and doing the rounds on the has-been concert circuit by the early to mid 70s. Then, almost out of nowhere, things turned around. Inspired by Eric Clapton’s success recording at 461 Ocean Boulevard in Miami, they packed up and relocated to Florida. The sunny climate reminded Barry of his childhood in Australia, and it seemed to ignite something. Teaming up with record producer Arif Mardin, they began weaving elements of soul, funk, and American pop culture into their sound and lyrics.

Then came Saturday Night Fever, which blew the doors off everything – it became the highest-grossing album of its time and launched the Bee Gees into the stratosphere, with a string of US Billboard Top 10 hits that rivalled even Beatlemania. And let’s not forget – a big part of their success came down to Barry discovering that unforgettable falsetto voice. He didn’t even know he had it until he was messing around in the studio one day. But once the others heard it, they knew they were onto something. From then on, they milked it for all it was worth and pretty much built their sound around showcasing that voice. But……

Their meteoric rise had a strange backlash. As disco fever took hold, every Tom, Dick, and Harry jumped on the bandwagon, often with laughable results, and the genre quickly became a punchline. The Bee Gees, unfortunately, were lumped in with it. Radio stations and record companies wouldn’t go near them with a barge pole. So, left with few options, they reinvented themselves as behind-the-scenes hitmakers – and to remarkable effect. They wrote a slew of massive hits for other artists, including:

“Woman in Love,” Barbra Streisand (1980)
“Heartbreaker,” Dionne Warwick (1982)
“Chain Reaction” Diana Ross, and
“Islands in the Stream,” Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers (1983)

How Deep Is Your Love is one of the first songs I remember hearing in my life. We had the Saturday Night Fever album – like just about every other Australian family at the time. I have vivid memories of it playing during family and friend get-togethers, so saying I feel sentimental when I hear it now would be an understatement. I always found this song kind of a couplet with Chicago’s If You Leave Me Now (1976), which came out just before and was also on heavy rotation during the family outings and social gatherings we went to.

Funny thing is, I didn’t really warm to either song for years. Maybe it’s because they felt a bit too grown-up for my younger ears. But now, when I hear them, I find myself drifting off with a kind of revived appreciation – finally understanding what the adults were swooning over. Both songs don’t just share soft, melodic arrangements and bittersweet themes of love and longing – they really did dominate the airwaves around the same time, almost like musical siblings of the same mood.

The following was condensed from the Wikipedia article below:

How Deep is Your Love was ultimately used as part of the soundt r ack to the film Saturday Night Fever. It was a number-three hit in the United Kingdom and Australia. In the United States, it topped the Billboard and stayed in the Top 10 for 17 weeks. It is listed at No. 27 on Billboard‘s All Time Top 100. Alongside Stayin’ Alive and Night Fever, it is one of the group’s three tracks on the list. How Deep Is Your Love is ranked number 375 on Rolling Stone‘s list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.

This track was written mainly by Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb. Barry worked out the structure with keyboard player Blue Weaver. Co-producer Albhy Galuten later admits the contribution of Weaver on this track, “One song where Blue [Weaver] had a tremendous amount of input. There was a lot of things from his personality. That’s one where his contribution was quite significant, not in a songwriting sense, though when you play piano, it’s almost like writing the song. Blue had a lot of influence in the piano structure of that song“.

Weaver tells his story behind this track:

“One morning, it was just myself and Barry in the studio. He said, ‘Play the most beautiful chord you know’, and I just played, what happened was, I’d throw chords at him and he’d say, ‘No, not that chord’, and I’d keep moving around and he’d say, ‘Yeah, that’s a nice one’ and we’d go from there. Then I’d play another thing – sometimes, I’d be following the melody line that he already had and sometimes I’d most probably lead him somewhere else by doing what I did. I think Robin came in at some point. Albhy also came in at one point and I was playing an inversion of a chord, and he said, ‘Oh no, I don’t think it should be that inversion, it should be this’, and so we changed it to that, but by the time Albhy had come in, the song was sort of there

[Verse 1]
I know your eyes in the mornin’ sun
I feel you touch me in the pourin’ rain
And the moment that you wander far from me
I wanna feel you in my arms again

[Pre-Chorus]
And you come to me on a summer breeze
Keep me warm in your love, then you softly leave
And it’s me you need to show
How deep is your love?

[Chorus]
How deep is your love? How deep is your love?
I really mean to learn
‘Cause we’re livin’ in a world of fools
Breakin’ us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me

[Verse 2]
I believe in you
You know the door to my very soul
You’re the light in my deepest, darkest hour
You’re my saviour when I fall

References:
1. How Deep Is Your Love (Bee Gees song) – Wikipedia

Tagged with: bee gees, how deep is your love, saturday night fever
Posted in Music

The Force of Circumstance (1924) – W. Somerset Maugham

Posted on July 23, 2025 by observationblogger — 1 Comment

If you enjoy dabbling in books feel free to join me on Goodreads [here] as I ease back into my reading journey after a bit of time away.

Picking up the Wednesday literature segment where I last left off with Collected Stories (1983) – Gabriel García Márquez, today I bring you a short story from my current read – The Penguin Book of Short Stories. This anthology features some of the most celebrated names in literature, including Dickens, Huxley, Joyce, Maugham, Wells, and Woolf. Its themes span the supernatural, colonialism, cultural and societal tensions, and madness – to name just a few.

It’s an enjoyable read if you’re into the classics of English literature. Naturally, I connected more with some stories than others, but the one I’ve found most compelling and relatable so far is today’s feature by W. Somerset Maugham (image inset) – The Force of Circumstance. By the end, this profound story led me to dive deep into the murky waters of my own soul, confronting my battles with loneliness and reassessing my priorities in relationships. It struck a painful chord – heartbreakingly true. That, to me, is what the greatest literature does: it holds a mirror up to the soul, and what it reflects back isn’t always easy to face.

The Force of Circumstance is a story about Doris, a young Englishwoman, who marries Guy, a colonial officer stationed in the remote outpost of Sembulu. Despite their love and her efforts to make their home pleasant, Doris discovers the presence of a Malay woman and child. Who is this woman and child lurking by their home? Anyway, I’ll keep the rest under wraps and spoiler-free for those wanting to read it (or listen to the audio version at the end of this post) for the first time.

Maugham is so effective in holding out weaknesses and contradictions in front of us…illustrating the obvious dichotomies in moral positions. Someone mentioned he is a little abstract… that is why. He is dangling the different perspectives without telling us which is the correct one. It’s also a masterclass in characterisation. He sketches each with a deft hand, gradually building story lines and adding plot twists- until he just sits back, and lets his characters speak.

That’s enough of the introduction – so if you’re inclined, go pour yourself a cup of coffee and get nice and cosy for an hour-long, embittered tale of lies, love, and jealousy. Without further ado, I present The Force of Circumstance below – or the audio version just beneath that.

The Force of Circumstance (1924)

She was sitting on the veranda waiting for her husband to come in for luncheon. The Malay boy had drawn the blinds when the morning lost its freshness, but she had partly raised one of them so that she could look at the river. Under the breathless sun of midday it had the white pallor of death. A native was paddling along in a dug-out so small that it hardly showed above the surface of the water. The colours of the day were ashy and wan. They were but the various tones of the heat. (It was like an Eastern melody, in the minor key, which exacerbates the nerves by its ambiguous monotony; and the ear awaits impatiently a resolution, but waits in vain.) The cicadas sang their grating song with a frenzied energy; it was as continual and monotonous as the rustling of a brook over the stones; but on a sudden it was drowned by the loud singing of a bird, mellifluous and rich; and for an instant, with a catch at her heart, she thought of the English blackbird.

Then she heard her husband’s step on the gravel path behind the bungalow, the path that led to the court-house in which he had been working, and she rose from her chair to greet him. He ran up the short flight of steps, for the bungalow was built on piles, and at the door the boy was waiting to take his topee. He came into the room which served them as a dining-room and parlour, and his eyes lit up with pleasure as he saw her.

‘Hulloa, Doris. Hungry?’

‘Ravenous.’

‘It’ll only take me a minute to have a bath and then I’m ready.’

‘Be quick,’ she smiled.

He disappeared into his dressing-room and she heard him whistling cheerily while, with the carelessness with which she was always remonstrating, he tore off his clothes and flung them on the floor. He was twenty-nine, but he was still a school-boy; he would never grow up. That was why she had fallen in love with him, perhaps, for no amount of affection could persuade her that he was good-looking. He was a little round man, with a red face like the full moon, and blue eyes. He was rather pimply. She had examined him carefully and had been forced to confess to him that he had not a single feature which she could praise. She had told him often that he wasn’t her type at all.

‘I never said I was a beauty,’ he laughed.

‘I can’t think what it is I see in you.’

But of course she knew perfectly well. He was a gay, jolly little man, who took nothing very solemnly, and he was constantly laughing. He made her laugh too. He found life an amusing rather than a serious business, and he had a charming smile. When she was with him she felt happy and good-tempered. And the deep affection which she saw in those merry blue eyes of his touched her. It was very satisfactory to be loved like that. Once, sitting on his knees, during their honeymoon she had taken his face in her hands and said to him:

‘You’re an ugly, little fat man, Guy, but you’ve got charm. I can’t help loving you.’

Read the remainder here or go to the audio below. Cheers.

Tagged with: The Force of Circumstance, The Penguin Book of Short Stories, W. Somerset Maugham
Posted in Reading

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