Elton John in concert

"She packed my bags last night, pre-flight
Zero hour, 9 am."

Elton John, Rocket Man himself, touched down in Wellington yesterday for a rocking night at Westpac Stadium. It would be his final time touring this part of the world - or so the promoter said. The man himself may have other ideas, insisting that he will be back. After seeing Elton John in concert twice now (at the same venue), I hope he makes it a hat-trick.

I'll openly admit that I became more of an Elton John fan after seeing him perform live in Wellington in 2006. Sure, I'd played and listened to a significant chunk of his back catalogue while growing up as a pianist but had written him off as a performing peacock, strutting and preening on stage while his amazing band of tireless musicians did all the actual work. How wrong I was! From the moment those ethereal opening lines of Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding blasted out, to the instantly recognisable opening staccato piano chord of Benny and the Jetssss, I could see we were in for a huge night.

Fast forward to 2015 and much of the set list was the same. But just like a vintage wine, it sounded even more mature and enjoyable this time around. Wow, what a performance! With around 2 1/4 hours of solid piano playing and entertaining, there are too many highlights to single out. Hits, B-sides, lesser known numbers and stellar megahits rang out right through to the Crocodile Rocking encore that had the whole crowd on their feet. Also, the glow sticks and battery-operated candles that used to be for sale outside events have now given way to a sea of cell phones lighting up the stadium for Candle in the Wind. The cell phone lights also made an appearance during Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me, which Elton dedicated to the late Jonah Lomu.

Elton talked about how his writing partnership with lyricist Bernie Taupin is now into its 48th year. He also introduced long serving members of the Elton John band: Nigel Olsson on drums and Davey Johnstone on guitar. They've collaborating for more years than I've been alive. What an achievement!

The only fly in the ointment (apart from the cold wind - but a beanie and coat fixed that problem) was intermittent sound quality, with keyboards and bass out of balance and the top end missing during some key numbers. I crossed my fingers that it wasn't a local sound mixer on deck last night.

Will he be back? Here's hoping. Maybe then I'll finally get to hear him perform his elusive tribute to John Lennon, the legendary Empty Garden.

Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ...

We all know how the song goes, even if the order of gifts gets somewhat murky after seven swans a-swimming and a bit of Christmas spirit. This song is actually the stuff of earworms and, quite honestly, it usually leaves me feeling wound up and agitated like poor Frank Kelly in his Irish Style version below. Aaarrrgghhh!!!

On a more pleasant note, we are starting The Twelve Days of Christmas in the office tomorrow. The idea is that people take it in turns to plan a short Christmas-themed activity or event for everyone else to participate in so that the last twelve working days of the year are covered. We figure there has got to be a better way to wind up and celebrate a busy year than simply doing more of the same each day.

I plan to kick things off tomorrow morning by showing my colleagues how to make mini Christmas puddings over a cuppa. I happen to know that someone from our Christchurch office has ordered cupcakes for us from tempt for morning tea on Tuesday, so that's something to look forward to. Wednesday will see a progressive performance of Pukeko in a Ponga Tree (with ukulele accompaniment - eep, must practise!). Oh, our CEO is going to be delighted! Our Christmas function and a shared lunch on Christmas Eve are also on the list, as well as various surprises from willing victims colleagues who are exercising their creative Christmas muscles as I write. (Hopefully!)

The end of year countdown has begun! How are you winding up your work year?

6th birthday bash

You say it's your birthday

It's my birthday, too, yeah

They say it's your birthday

We're gonna have a good time

It's time for a virtual party because Café Chick is 6 years old today! It seems like a veeeerrryyy long time since this first hesitant post six years ago, but at the same time it almost feels like just the other day. How does time play tricks like that? Join me in a song.



Six years of blogging about everything and nothing has been tremendous fun. There have been busy times and quiet times, ups and downs, excitement and everyday goings on. Undoubtedly the biggest bonus for me has been what I've learned from the online community over the years: recipes to try, music to listen to, books to read, movies and tv programmes to watch, places and events to go to ... and a million and one practical tips about almost every topic imaginable, as well as those I would never have otherwise dreamed about. Gosh, what a ride!

Thinking about things, I wonder how old I can become and still credibly tote a name like Café Chick; she is definitely a lot younger and far more fun than I am in real life. I have been ruminating on a new name for a while now but am not sure about making the transition to a new persona, or whether it's even worth bothering. The spelling could be a little confusing. I'd need new themes and art work and it would take a while to update all my social media accounts, but a change of name may better see me through more years online - or not. Time will tell.

Of course, it wouldn't be a blog birthday without an obligatory screen shot of my pretty red Clustr map. This is two years worth of dots, as it didn't reset last year. The map represents more than 46,000 coffee breaks from all around the world - 192 countries, in fact. Wow! Blogging activity feels quieter during the last couple of years but I realise that my online community has merely shifted into other spaces and Twitter is where most of my interaction and relationship building takes place now. I'm fine with that. :-)

Thanks for dropping by!

So join me with coffee and a cheese scone (it is Cheese Scone Friday, after all) and help me celebrate six years in the blogosphere. Thank you to each and every one of you for visiting, commenting, posting links, chatting and coming along for the ride. Cin cin!

Welcome to the Happiness Hotel

I'm generally a cheap and cheerful kind of traveller. The old adage of "just a bed and a clean room is enough for me" usually applies – and it's just as well. Most of my personal travel has been on a backpacker's budget as I prefer to spend my money on getting out and doing things rather than paying for somewhere to store my bags during the day.

There's a common perception that you get what you pay for, and it's largely accurate. But sometimes cheap is not always that cheerful. We can all tell horror stories about places we've stayed at – and mine won't be anywhere near as drastic as some, but I'm sure some common themes would emerge. While rude (or non-existent service) has long been romanticised in a Fawlty Towers kind of way, some things just aren't funny.

A while ago, my partner had an overnight stay in Auckland. He found a deal at a budget hotel chain in a central city location close to where he needed to be. It looked fine. He checked in to find an untidy room and someone already asleep in bed – Goldilocks, perhaps? After reporting his finding to reception, they simply asked him who was in the room and did he want a late checkout tomorrow. Really?? The room he ended up in wasn't fantastic but at least there was no-one else in it.

I've stayed in a place with rooms that are so small that there was no room for luggage once we shut the door. (Luckily our large group had booked out the whole place so we could keep our bags outside in the hallway.) Multi-storey buildings with broken or non-existent lifts were commonplace when backpacking in Italy, making the Hotel California in Milazzo not so pleasant.

A South Island motel I stayed for a work trip was so cold that you could see the damp dripping down the walls. The heater was broken and so we opted for an early night, but I was still frozen even while wearing all of my clothes in bed and laying my coat on top of the covers. Then there was the congregation of cockroaches and silverfish hanging out on the wall ... I think this place takes out top prize for the worst ever work accommodation. I guess you just have to put up with what you've got when you stay in small towns with limited (or singular) accommodation options.

But apparently bed bugs also like luxurious hotels and are no longer content to just hang out in cheap dives. And why wouldn't they? If the conditions are basically the same everywhere, you'd may as well take an upgrade if it's on offer. (By the way, how do you get upgrades to better rooms, or even half-decent ones?)

I once complained about being given a tiny room in Auckland that looked nothing like the photo yet was called (and cost) an 'executive' room. It didn't even have an external window (as shown in the photo), apart from a tiny one above head height in the bathroom. The response? "Most hotels have a broad variety of rooms and will naturally display a photo of one of their better ones in a brochure or website." So apparently it's perfectly acceptable to show photos of just one room and customers have to accept that theirs will look nothing like the one they've paid for.

Then there was a place where the extractor fan in the ensuite wouldn't turn off ... until 6 am, when it finally decided to get some sleep. (We'd given up trying long ago.) Also, a hostel opposite a night club in central Auckland where I got a grand total of zero minutes sleep and ended up leaving at 4.30 am to catch the early airport bus, figuring that airport noise is preferable to thumping music and street fights outside my window.

A song comes to mind ...

Cool Runnings

How time flies. Mashable informed me today that one of my favourite feelgood movies, Cool Runnings (1993), was released 20 years ago on Tuesday. Nostalgia aside, this time frame seems extremely unlikely given that it feels like only a few years ago. Surely can't have been so long? Apparently so.

I loved Cool Runnings. It is loosely based on the true story the impoverished Jamaican bobsled team's debut in the 1988 Winter Olympics after a supposed foiled attempt by three runners to qualify as sprinters for the summer games. The characters are colourful, lively and resourceful. How else would a random group of guys from a tropical country be able to enter a winter event when they've neither seen snow nor a bobsleigh before?

The upbeat pseudo-reggae soundtrack helped the movie achieve slightly longer lasting fame. My first band formed in 1993 so naturally Jimmy Cliff's version of I Can See Clearly Now was part of our set list. It was lots of fun to play and really popular with audiences of all ages. Good times, great memories.



I love this list of 14 ways Cool Runnings is still relevant to your life made up of snippets from the film. The message is clear: anything is possible if you're prepared to work for it - even if you only have a bathtub to practise in.

The Muppet Show marathon

I am a huuuuuuuuuge Muppet Show fan. I was thrilled to be given boxed sets of Series 1 and 2 of The Muppet Show on DVD for my birthday and have enjoyed watching classic episodes during mini Muppet marathons (half-marathons, maybe?). Each episode is short enough to watch just one or two (or three) at a time whenever you need a pick-me-up. They're also incredibly addictive. Luckily I still have plenty more episodes to watch, then it will be back to the beginning again and again.

There is so much to love about the Muppets, with an endearing cast of characters and great running gags. I'd forgotten how many one liners George the Janitor quipped on the dance floor. I always preferred Veterinarian's Hospital to Pigs In Space. The two resident hecklers, Statler and Waldorf, are surprisingly sharp, as poor Fozzie Bear knows all too well. Then there's the perpetually hapless Great Gonzo, whose greatest admirer is Camilla the Chicken.

Here's Fozzie telling the world's funniest joke. "Good grief, the comedian's a bear!" Cracks me up every time.



While many of the special guests have faded into oblivion or weren't quite as funny as they thought they were, some were truly memorable. I loved Rita Moreno's dance sequence where she effortlessly, then exasperatingly, threw her Muppet admirers around the room. Her episode finished with Animal accompanying her on the drums while she sang "Fever". Of course it went wrong for her. I always remember Ben Vereen's smiley, happy cabaret-style episode. Although I don't really know what Avery Schreiber was famous for, he was certainly one of the funniest guests.

But really, it's the musical numbers that set The Muppet Show apart. Rowlf the Dog is an astonishingly good pianist and definitely one of my favourite characters. I love his renditions of classical arrangements, many of which I learned to play myself. He almost met his musical match when Bruce Forsyth played a beautiful version of "Let There Be Love" during his guest appearance. Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem are my heroes and Zoot is an absolutely legendary sax player. Just listen to his fine form during one of my favourite numbers, "Sax and Violence".



Classic. Timeless. Hilarious. Muppets rock.

Paul Simon in concert

Anyone who follows me on Twitter will know that I went to see Paul Simon live in concert in Auckland on Monday night. Anyone who read my tweets after the concert will know just how much I loved it. Anyone who knows me knows that the concert coincided with a major life event. Anyone who is still around will know that I spent most of this week floating back down to earth. Slowly. What a night!

My concert-going has matured much in the way that my coffee drinking has over the years: there are fewer these days but they are of much better quality. This means that I really look forward to concerts (and coffee) and savour them before, during and afterwards. My excitement in the lead-up to Paul Simon was almost tangible. Coming back to reality a few days later was hard.

Four years ago, I made a similar hikoi to Auckland for Simon & Garfunkel. Actually, that trip was mostly just to see Paul Simon and his solo set in the middle of that concert had me vowing to go anywhere, any time if he ever toured New Zealand on his own, never thinking that it would actually happen. On the day this year’s shows were announced, I had booked flights and annual leave before concert tickets were even on sale; there is no way I was going to miss this musical legend on stage. I don't even know what the tour was called, only that I would do whatever it took to go. And I’m so glad I did. Monday night’s concert was worth every cent, every logistic detail that needed organising, every hour spent on various forms of public transport. I’d do it again in a flash.

I had planned on doing a post mortem of the concert, reliving each song blow by blow for my own musical gratification. However, a super-hyped sleepless night after the show and notes scribbled in the dark on the back of my ticket didn't lead to anything coherent until some draft ramblings during the past few nights. So this post is less of a review and more a reflection of impressions and highlights.

You can find the set list here; it’s a goodie. Given Simon’s impressive back catalogue, the two hour list could easily have been made up of completely different songs while still delivering a stellar performance. We were treated to two more songs than Dunedin concertgoers: Still Crazy After All These Years and The Boy In The Bubble, which I am used to listening to at the start of a Paul Simon session as the opening number on Graceland.

There were so many musical highlights: being reminded of how central a good rhythm guitar is in Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard, the brilliant orchestration in Late In The Evening (albeit too fast), then waiting for that bass solo in You Can Call Me Al. Dad and I have spent hours ripping those two palindromic bars apart, never quite managing to put them back together again in just the right way. Well, the bass player slapped it (because he could!) and repeated it at the end of the song (because he could) to cheers from the crowd. Magic!

The truly incredible thing is that Simon sounds exactly like he always has. Neither his voice nor guitar playing has degenerated over the years. That certainly can’t be said of every artist who has been in the game for so long. Much like Bob Dylan, Simon’s songwriting is so strong and beautifully constructed that it can be interpreted and reinterpreted in so many different ways without losing any of its authenticity, which is just what the excellent eight-piece backing band did. This saw us treated to a slower, more mellow version of Slip Slidin' Away along with some other songs being rearranged.

The transition from Hearts and Bones into Mystery Train and Wheels was clever, comedic and certainly entertaining. However, I’m not sure the people sitting either side of me even realised that there were two other songs in this medley ... but I digress. Likewise, I enjoyed the way Kodachrome merged into Gone At Last, offering up the only key change I spotted during the night. The band managed to fill the gaps where Phoebe Snow’s wailing would have been without any fuss.

Although I didn’t expect to hear Take Me To The Mardi Gras, it would have been nice to hear in place of a Here Comes The Sun, an unnecessary Beatles cover that pleased the crowd but left me wanting more of who I had come to see. Also, I would have loved to hear Mother and Child Reunion and had been looking forward to the changing rhythms at the end of Loves Me Like A Rock, but they weren't necessarily glaring omissions.

For me, the evening was about the experience of seeing a legendary songwriter present his work on stage as much as the songs he chose to do this with. I am so thrilled to have ticked another concert off my Top 5 list, as this is one that I never expected I'd get to do. It's fitting that Paul Simon's music has once again provided the backdrop for a major event in my life, making the trip down memory lane on Monday night about even more than his music.

Boil the Frog

I found a cool app via Mashable this morning. Boil the Frog creates a progression between two artists, a kind of musical evolution. It creates a playlist complete with album art that you can listen to online. The example given shows how Miley Cyrus can morph to Miles Davis in 18 songs and, surprisingly, it makes sense. It is incredibly addictive!

I tried it out by turning my iPhone onto shuffle and entering in the next two artists. It took 19 songs to get from Rosemary Clooney (don't ask) to Al Green. Wow!

Give it a try! Enter your favourite artists or the two most random ones you can think of. Don't just think about the difference in years between the artists; genre, instrumentation, country and so-called 'popularity' all produce varied results. I had some fun with these combinations:

• Tom Petty --> Adele in 16 songs. (That surprised me.)
• Chuck Berry --> Cyndi Lauper in 14 songs
• The Who --> Sinead O'Connor in 9 songs
• Patti Page --> Rammstein took a bit longer with 26 songs.
• Prince --> The Hollies in 10 songs
• Split Enz --> Diana Ross in 11 songs
• The Pogues --> Fiona Apple in 11 songs

I forecast hours of geeky musical fun on the way!

Ghost chips

It seems like everyone has been talking about ghost chips lately. To be honest, I haven't had a clue what they were all talking about. It turns out that's what happens when you don't watch ads on tv, or watch them with the sound turned off.

This morning, I saw someone blog about ghost chips, had a few minutes spare and thought I'd watch the video. Yeah, it's kind of funny, but not really what I expected.

Turns out I was watching the wrong video - this version is a send up of what is on tv and makes more sense if you've seen the original ad, which is actually a clever way of addressing drink driving. Also, anyone outside of New Zealand will probably be completely dumbfounded by the kiwi style of humour, but believe me, this is funny for us.

Musical flash mobs

I love the delight that a highly orchestrated music or dance flash mob imposes upon an unsuspecting audience. Flash mobs are all the rage at the moment. This clip of Do Re Mi from The Sound of Music at Antwerp Station in Belgium looks likes so much fun. I'd have been right in the middle of it, that's for sure! Watch it on full screen for best results.


I’d love to try organising something similar to this ukulele flash mob and I hear there are plans for a dance flash mob in Wellington sometime in October (although you didn’t hear it from me). I also recall hearing about a Christmas carol flash mob at a mall in Christchurch last year but haven't yet managed to confirm whether it actually happened or was simply a figment of my overactive musical imagination.

Flash mobs aside, there is something about music and dance that has the power to touch everyone in a crowd, friends and strangers, even for just a brief moment in time. I was reminded of this on my ski trip this week. At the end of a tiring day on the slopes, there were probably 50 or so people returning ski gear they had hired. Boots were being unlatched, skis stacked and aching feet and legs being relieved of their loads. The radio was playing and suddenly a few dozen people join in with the chorus to Daniel Boone’s Beautiful Sunday. I looked up; the staff were also singing along with everyone around me. The grins on people’s faces was magic and I had that song in my head all the way back home.


Years ago, after a Christmas gig at a flash hotel in town, my band packed up the last of our gear and headed to a less than classy joint for a 3 am snack: McDonald’s in Manners Mall. I realised that now it was after midnight, it was our bass player, Aaron’s, birthday. Aaron’s a quiet, shy guy. Tim, our singer, was the opposite. “Oh, it’s your birthday!” Tim announced and started singing the first line of 16 Candles by The Crests. We’d created a birthday flash mob at McDonald's at 3 am! Here’s how it went:

Tim [singing]: Happy birthday …
A rather large woman with a falsetto voice à la operatic style [singing]: Happy birthday baby, oh …
Some random guy from over the window [singing]: I love you so
And then, the clincher … a guy with a deep voice [crooning]: Ooh …

It was AMAZING! Aaron turned the deepest shade of red I’d ever seen on a human being, Tim was in his element, and the rest of McDonald’s looked around in a drunken, confused delight.

Priceless.



Have you ever come across musical moments like these, or been lucky enough to experience an actual flash mobs in the flesh?

Musical sacrilege

Being female and of a certain generation, there are a few musical movies that, as soon as their titles are mentioned, will garner a uniform reaction from my peers. (Females, that is; the guys just roll their eyes.) I wouldn’t go as far as saying they form the soundtrack to my childhood, but they were significant at the time and therefore eternally timeless.

Footloose (1984) was incredibly memorable for me, but not because it was a particularly great movie (it wasn't) nor because it spawned a few pop hits that you’ll hear on high rotate at certain Courtenay Place establishments on a Saturday night. Footloose was the first movie I was allowed to see at the cinema without parental supervision. A friend and I went with her elder sister and her friend; this was pretty radical back in those days. I remembered very little about the movie itself except for one girl trying to get out of one car window (while it was still moving) and into another moving car. Racy!

Then there was Grease (1977). This is my ultimate favourite movie and one of just four I own on DVD. There’s nothing that this movie doesn’t have: sassy characters, great music, fast cars, and fabulous 50s style cool. I know every line and lyric by heart but didn’t particular enjoy the stage show. I shudder at the thought of this movie ever being remade; Grease 2 (1982) was bad enough. Here's the cool opening theme:


I grew up watching the TV series Fame on Saturday afternoons. Admittedly, there wasn’t much on TV back in those days, but Leroy and the gang with their leotards and legwarmers were the ultimate in cool. I still get a bit choky when I hear Starmaker by Kids from Fame. Go on - indulge yourself:


However, while nostalgia is a fine thing, tampering with something that should have simply been left alone is disastrous. Even the trailer for the 'new' Fame (2009) movie leaves me cold. What do you think?

And then I read yesterday that Dirty Dancing (1987) is to be remade. I am outraged! Doesn’t anyone remember Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights (2004)? No, of course they don’t, and those that do simply grimace at the memory. Poor Patrick Swayze will be turning in his grave; no other actor could say, "nobody puts Baby in a corner" as cheesily as he did. Sure, they might cast a female lead who can actually act (or dance) this time, but it won't be the same. Here's the original trailer. Just hearing the soundtrack brings it all back.


Personally, I blame the truly puzzlesome Glee phenomenon for all this. So what do you think about remaking classic movies – special or sacrilege?

Ukulele flash mob

How's this for something cool?

A colleague sent me a link this morning to an article in the Manawatu Standard about a ukulele flash mob that appeared at a shopping mall food court in Palmerston North on Saturday. Starting off with a single ukulele player strumming and singing The Beatles' classic song "Let It Be", 25 ukuleles (smuggled inside shopping bags), 50 singers and various members of the public progressively joined in, much to the surprise and delight of the crowd. Wow!

You know what I'm thinking, right? Yes, I know it's already been done elsewhere so the idea wouldn't be entirely original, but surely somebody would be brave enough to join me in a local ukulele flash mob?

Bei Mir Vist Du Schon

Every now and then, the musician in me falls in love with a particular song or artist. I’m enjoying rediscovering Stray Cats at the moment. Adele has caught my interest. But I had my iPod on shuffle this morning and it threw up a couple of gems I hadn’t listened to in a while. The first was Song For Guy, a song I need to be absolutely in the mood for as it has the ability to instantly transport me back to a funeral from many years ago that I really don’t wish to relive.

And then I was rewarded for my efforts with The Andrews Sisters’ Bei Mir Vist Du Schon. Wow – talk about a beautiful blast from the past. I first heard a version of the song at a dance class a few years ago and was fascinated by the sound, the instrumentation and the changes in tempo. Asking around, I learned it was by Janis Siegel and came from the Swing Kids (1993) soundtrack. I had to have it. I searched for other versions and listened over and over, analysing every detail – pure bliss for a musician. I’m not too fussed about The Puppini Sisters’ version but can appreciate their arrangement of the song nevertheless.

Here is a musical interlude for you to enjoy on your Friday.

The dealing's done for Kenny

This post is long overdue; so are a number of things with me at the moment, but that's another post in itself.

There are many curious characters who make up the fabric of the night life in Courtenay Place. You're likely to come across them at least every weekend and usually in the wee small hours. Some are more sociable that others, but all have their quirks. There's the infamous Blanket Man who is quick to abuse anyone who crosses his path, the guy who gets off a bus outside the Star Mart and asks for $2, the 'superstitious' guitarist, who plays Stevie Wonder's Superstition almost continuously outside the National Bank ... and then there was Kenny.

'Kenny', little known by his real name, John Adams, died of a brain tumour on 6 June. He was street performer with many strings to his entertaining bow, least of which was his musical ability, yet that is what he will most likely be remembered for. That, and his ongoing petitions to the Wellington City Council, appealing to Noise Control to have his impounded amp back. Yes, apparently the residents of Courtenay Place were not all Kenny fans.

Kenny petitions the WCC
to get his impounded amp back

I was beaten to the punch by Blog on the Tracks for already writing much (or much more) of what I might have written about Kenny myself. I didn't hear him recite Shakespeare, but I do recall catching snippets of Rudyard Kipling's If during late night jaunts down Courtenay Place during the mid-late 1990s. More commonly, I came across Kenny somewhere along the fence by the entrance to what is now Reading Courtenay (but was at the time under construction), a drunken crowd around him dancing and singing along to whatever he was trying to play at the time. One night, I wandered past to see a clearly tipsy woman with her around Kenny's shoulder and trying to get him to do the can-can with her; turns out it was my best friend at high school, who I hadn't seen for a few years but was not at all surprised by her efforts that night.

Word has it that in the early days, when asked to play The Gambler, he claimed to not know it, yet is what he is most commonly associated with. Whether he ever actually learned to play the song is questionable, but it quickly became part of a very limited repertoire for Kenny.

As a young musician, I think I was most offended by the terrible sound quality emanating from his microphone, which was gaffer taped inside his leather jacket and hooked up to a crummy 40W amp. His guitar wasn't much better. The fact that he barely knew how to play it was simply par for the course. And, yet, he had crowd-pulling power.

There was no sendoff for Kenny, although locals have called for a tribute. Kenny finally 'broke even' and is hopefully now entertaining the crowds in sky - if he ever managed to get his old amp back, that is. ;-)

One last time for 'Kenny':



Image source: http://static2.stuff.co.nz/1308564060/947/5168947.jpg
Used without permission

Sam Cooke earworm

I frequently suffer from earworms. I say "suffer" because they are usually not songs I would choose to have stuck in my head on high repeat. However, these past few days I have had an earworm of the most pleasant kind. On several occasions, I have had a Sam Cooke song doing the rounds - and I love it!

We practised Wonderful World in ukulele orchestra today - the ultimate party song, along with Cupid. One of our group said that she had a huge crush on Sam Cooke. In fact, at 16 she announced that she was going to marry him because he had such a beautiful voice, to which her father informed her that he had been shot many years before she was born. Ow, how to burst a girl's bubble!

One of the guys mentioned that he only knew the Art Garfunkel version of Wonderful World. I quickly googled it and found it to be pretty bland compared to the original. Maybe that was the James Taylor influence? Anyway, here is an indulgent selection of Sam Cooke's music for you to enjoy on a sunny afternoon. I am now playing all the Sam Cooke music I have on my iPod. It has certainly put a smile on my face.

Musical quiz

This morning on the Blog on the Tracks blog, Simon Sweetman posted a Welcome to 2011 reader questionnaire. I started drafting some responses then came back to it later at several stages through the day. This is my last piece of 'work' for the day before going away for the weekend. Here goes!

1. What do you consider to be the greatest record released in your lifetime?
Probably Thriller by Michael Jackson.

2. Name one band you were sure you'd always hate but as time has gone on has got better and better - become one of your favourites.
Well, if Simon is allowed to say The Carpenters (good choice - but not entirely perfect), then I'd add KC and the Sunshine Band. So cheesy, so cliched, so disco, sooooooo good.



3. Are you or were you ever a Chris Isaak fan?
Not even remotely. He is the Coldplay of the 90s. *shudder*

4. What was the first international live act you saw?
The Jeff Healey Band, 1991, St James Theatre in Wellington. Blew. Me Away. I was instantly hooked on the live concert experience.

5. If you could own one rare gem of a song on an original 45, what would it be?
In the Ghetto by Elvis Presley. Pure magic in the most haunting kind of way.



6. Do you have any signed memorabilia that you are particularly proud of? (Maybe you're proud of the story behind it or just because of what it is that you have signed.)
None, except maybe an ancient poster of Al Pitrelli signed at a guitar clinic he held at the James Cabaret circa 1992. Memorabilia like this just doesn't float my boat.

7. Who is your favourite guitarist who never seems to make it on to Best Guitarists lists?
This really got me thinking. I'll freely admit I'm stumped - when I think of 'best guitarists', everyone who comes to mind would easily make it onto The List. I might come back to this one.

8. If you had to name one song - possibly even of guilty-pleasure status - that you think is a masterpiece and others need to hear, what would you pick?
Sooooo many to choose from. A quick skim through my iPod and my pick (for today) is Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles.



9. Who do you think is New Zealand music's greatest songwriter?
Probably Dave Dobbyn a la DD Smash era. I trawled YouTube but couldn't find a link to my favourite song of his, Magic (What She Do) from back in 1985.

10. What is your favourite TV theme music? And what is your favourite movie theme?
Undoubtedly, The Muppet Show followed by Hill Street Blues for TV.



I don't know if I have a particular favourite movie theme but I'm a fan of John Williams' scores. Perhaps it's because I'm a child of the 80s but I have a soft spot for the flying theme from E.T. (1982).



Your turn?

Back to work blues

It's the start of a new work year for me. I'd imagine many others who are starting their drift back from the summer holidays back into the working world are feeling like I am today. Perhaps it was a coincidence that I slept really badly last night, frequently waking up to check the clock with the one eye I could manage to prise open, all the while tossing and turning and thinking, "I have to get up in 5/3/2/1 hours"?

Being the start of a new work year, I thought I'd spend some time clearing my emails (I didn't expect many - after all, others have been on leave, too), catching up on some reading from my RSS feeds, then start attacking the long list of jobs I left myself as I sailed out the door at lunchtime on Christmas Eve. Having had a two-week break, I should be refreshed and eager to pick up where I left off, completing jobs in half the time (due to my renewed energy) etc ... yeah, right!

I said, "hello, how was your holiday?" a few times. I saw that I'd left my desk in a relatively tidy state, so that didn't need much doing to it. It took me less than half an hour to delete 16 emails. I read a few blog posts. I looked at the time: 9:06 am. I'd been at work for little more than an hour and was already bored but still hopeful that motivation might walk in the door at any stage and point me in the direction of my list of jobs to do. It's now lunch time and there's still no sign of it showing up. Twitter confirms my suspicions; nobody else seems to be on task today either.

As an aside, I can't decide whether it's completely random or meaningful that I've had this earworm stuck in my head for much of the morning:


How about you? Are you back at work or are you still enjoying the last of your break? Or, did you work through like my sweetie had to? Survival tips welcome.

Song list

I was listening to my iPod on shuffle today and randomly came across a song from my previous band's song list. It's been a few years since that band ended and I've only just started relistening to some of the songs we played during our seven years together.

As I explained in this post a few years ago, good covers bands don't play the songs they like; they play the songs you like. This often includes songs they hate. Here's a good example. Here's another. Sometimes they play songs they start out liking but quickly get thrashed to a musical death after playing them repeatedly night after night for several years in a row. Sometimes you get to enjoy them again a few years after you finish playing them, and luckily that happened with this song and this beautiful number, but it's not always guaranteed.

There are a handful of songs I've played over the years that survived this grueling process of musical destruction. They were songs I liked before we learned them, while we were playing them, and still love listening to now. I'd like to say there are more, but I was struggling to come up with five. It turns out I eventually found six - yay! Here are my picks:

Working on Christmas Eve

Today is only the second time I have worked through until Christmas Eve. It is the strangest feeling. We need to hang in here until midday when the gates will be opened (they were literally locked this morning), then we'll be allowed to escape into whatever form of Christmas madness we have planned. Let's just say that none of us are doing any work today!

Here's how our team are passing the time this morning:

• Ferrero Rocher for breakfast.
• The Absolute Best Christmas Album in the World ... Ever! is playing on my laptop through external speakers. Too bad if anybody doesn't want Christmas cheer - they're stuck with it! :-D
• Farewell morning tea for a colleague in a few minutes.
• Some guys are running around with nerf guns. Makes me wish I'd bought my water pistol now instead of waiting until after Christmas.
• I'm replying to texts from my brother asking what to get my partner for Christmas. Yep, the big day is tomorrow (on the same day as it is every year) and he's only thought to ask about it today.
• Someone has just come around with a basket of scorched almonds. Ooh, and here comes someone with rum ganache truffles. And fruit tarts!
• Blogging, reading Stuff, chatting, watching Christmas videos on YouTube and generally laying about.

Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!

Just walking in the rain

The Christmas madness continues but there is light on the horizon. We are pretty much done with our Christmas shopping and most of the presents are wrapped and ready. Despite promises that this would be the busiest day for shopping, being the last weekend before Christmas, things weren't too crazy out there and we even managed to survive a dash around the supermarket relatively unscathed.

Maybe the rain had something to do with it? It's raining pretty hard today but still warm, if a little humid - the perfect opportunity for a 101 in 1001 activity: #54 - Walk/dance in the rain. The experience wasn't quite as luxurious or carefree as I'd imagined it to be (and I didn't dance - it was a supermarket carpark the week before Christmas, after all!) but is probably my only chance to walk in warm rain and not have to care about getting wet.

To mark the occasion, here is a musical interlude: