Readers with too much time on their hands would be aware of the electoral shambles which took place in Tubbyland last weekend. Following a subsequent exchange with Justrecently, I’ve decided to form my own political party grounded in the key realities of the 21st century. As of yet to arrive at a name which will capture the essence of this new vehicle of political power, and readers are invited to make polite suggestion.
Key policy positions include:
Non alcoholic ginger beer will be the only beverage served at State functions;
Julian Assange will be given the Order of Australia and installed as Governor General;
All males will take mandatory Creative Cooking Classes beginning in their primary school years;
Full civic rights for gay, trannie and transgenderist folk;
The State will take responsibility for the quality and distribution of all Old School Drugs (marijuana, LSD and high-end opiates). Individuals involved in the distribution of party/designer drugs will be prosecuted with extreme prejudice;
All web lords will be given full journalistic accreditation with the aim breaking the existing sodomistic relationship between mainstream media and the political classes;
All Australian country music will be banned forthwith. No ifs or buts. Its plain fucking embarrassing. (And there is a shattering backstory to this proposal.) As an adjunct to this proscription, Australia will establish a strategic relationship with Mali and other Sahelian states with the aim of re-engineering the musical taste of all citizens here in Tubbyland;
Mainland China would be classified as a Nation State Gaming the Rest of the World and treated accordingly in matters of trade and Sino investment (housing and agriculture in Tubbyland).
I anticipate considerable electoral success, and am certain to capture both the donkey vote and other disenchanteds, as this new grass roots party will be generously staffed by a bevy of Japanese surfer girls.
JR will be offered a ministry of his choosing, and if secret negotiations with two other weblords are successful, the electorate will have real voting options next time round.
To be sure, the above involves the renunciation of the principles of hereditary monarchy and absolutist rule (my preference), but sometimes one must consider the greater public good.
Now, to musical matters.
As young sprouts, we spent our teenage years living in a Police State, and I’m not overstating matters.
In retrospect we should be thankful for that state of affairs, since it gave rise to great taste in all matters musical. The anthems of our teenage years were for the most part derived from Soul Music. Otis. Sam and Dave. The Four Tops. James and Bobby Purify. In fact, just about anything produced by Motown, Stax and Stax Volt. Being a bit of an Aretha fan is a hard gig sometimes, given that she covered a lot of plaintive dreck penned by the likes of Lennon McCartney, Dionne Warwick and Burt bloody Bacharach- swill of the first order.
Now, there is no denying that Chain of Fools is right up there in the pantheon of killer soul tracks. Alan Parker of The Commitments knew a centrepiece tour de force when he heard one, and he threw a ton of production dollars into his cover version.
This is Aretha at her torchiest best displaying her complete Gospel credentials. You are my Sunshine. Aretha Arrives. 1967. Perfect call and response. Understated brass. (As my producer friend Mark once advised in the studio: “How would Aretha cut it?”.)
Crank up the volume, children.
Finally, as part of this Australia-Mali pivot, this is what to expect to hear on all Tubbyland Ipods in the future:
And a nice description of the Desert Music Blues Project is found on this website.
Lot more on the net if you are interested.