1. "My best mate Pete, you know he came a cropper, went down a manhole on his brand new chopper".
This week, my band, The False Dots released a new video of our song Wacky Races. The second verse details the near demise of our original lead singer, Pete Conway, when he was at primary school. Pete's Dad bought him a bike for his birthday. Pete lived on Engel Park, which has a steep hill. Pete immediately jumped on the bike, hurtled down the hill and went down a manhole. He was off school for months. The nuns all asked us to pray for "Poor Peter". When he came back, he was a changed character, a lot more serious and he could be a bit strange at times. That's probably why he was a mate!
2. "Dad threw a party, I can't remember why". Actually I have remembered. It was a fund raiser for our local Church. I am pretty sure that it was for a Catholic anti abortion charity. All of the local community came along. It was a right old hoot, I think it was around 1974. There were punch ups, people being sick in the garden, dancing on the tables. At the end of the evening, I said to my Dad "That went well!". His response stunned me. He said "What a bunch of hypocrites that lot are. If any of their daughters got knocked up, they'd be first in the queue for an abortion, to spare the family embarrassment". I said "Why did you have a party then?" He said "I love a good party and it was the only way I could persuade your mother to have one". He added "You'll learn that a lot of people have principles until it is inconvenient". I was none the wiser on his views on the issue.
3. "My surrogate grandma, she lived on homefield road, married to a caretaker, a lovely bloke called Joe". I had no grandparents. They'd all died by the time I was born. None of my siblings new my Dad's parents, they'd died before he came to the UK. My mothers father died in 1948, my brothers were two. My mums mum died in 1960, two years before I was born. I was always jealous of my siblings for having been able to spend time with someone who by all accounts was lovely. Shortly after I was born, my mum decided to get a lady to clean the house. Mrs Annie O'Keefe turned up. I tiny Irish lady who lived in Burnt Oak. I loved her and she loved me. She was the Grandma I never had. Even after she retired, I'd nip in to see her for a cup of tea and a biscuit on the way home from Orange Hill. The one thing I learned from Annie is that if you have love in your life, you need nothing else. She was always kind and generous and made me feel welcome. When my Mum was having treatment for cancer, I lived with her for a few weeks. She had a scruffy old dog called Beauty and her husband bred budgeriegars in a shed in the garden. When I first started writing the Burnt Oak Boogie, it was going to be called "I'm dreaming of a bacon sandwich" and be about the Betta Cafe. Then I thought about Annie and I realised that the one thing that people never seem to mention when they talk about Burnt Oak is the people and the strength of the community. It became a very different song and better for it.
4. "Distant hearts, will scream tonight, it's face to face, you and I, one of us will not survive, please not me, I love my life". I doubt there has ever been a song that has been so determined to be heard. Back in 1983, I was getting the 113 bus back from town. A mate of mine called Geoff got on. Geoff had been in the Royal Marines in The Falklands. When he left, he was a funny, happy go lucky boy. I was delighted to see him. As we chatted I was horrified. He had completely changed. He told me about killing Argentinian soldiers on the battlefield. He had a deep darkness in his soul and his eyes lacked compassion. I felt really uncomfortable. I went home and started to write a song about what he'd told me. It was in four parts, the first part is about the fears of his family, waiting for news bulletins, as they know he is going action. The second part was the rallying cry of the drill sargeant, turning boys into men. The third part was my commentary on the general concept of war. Me, the lilly livered, lefty anti war liberal. The fourth part is Geoff, face to face with the enemy, killing to survive, unthinking as to anything other than survival. I wrote a draft, put a simple Am /// Em /// guitar riff and deciced it didn't work. I put it in the 'unfinished songs pile. I didn't like it. When Venessa Sagoe joined the band, she went through the pile and decided she liked it. I was gobsmacked. We started playing it at rehearsal and it was brilliant (much to my surprise). The song has resisted all attempts to jazz it up, restructure the chord sequence etc. It is a tough old bastard of a song. I saw Geoff about five years after the bus journey. He was back to himself. He told me he'd gone to Nepal and spent six months up a mountain smoking dope to rediscover himself.
5. "When I know my cancer's terminal, it's gonna set me free, it will lift me from this evil and the agony that it brings". I wrote Buy me a bottle of jack to distill my dark thoughts about prostate cancer.
6. "We've all got a mate, like my old mate Joe, he had the smartest motor and he'd always let you know, he'd take it to the Orange tree, he had the gift of the gab, he knew the girls would go for it, far cheaper than a cab". Men and Motors is about the lads who worked in the local motor trade. These lines were inspired by our former bassplayers Paul Hircombe's brother. He worked in a tyre shop and always had a smart motor. He took it to the Orange Tree, a girl who was with her fiancee was so impressed that she dumped the fiancee on the spot and went off with him for a spin! As far as I know they are still married.
7. "The only one who wins, is the man who takes the bet. The bookies simply look for mugs, who deserve just what they get". A great friend of mine saw her marriage fall apart due to her spouse being a compulsive gambler. I wanted to write a song about gambling that was funny, but got the point over. I think Longshot Didn't DIe works rather well!
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