I’m serious as eczema when I’m playing on my decks!

And, because why not, here’s another attempt at transcribing a Moped track. This time their incandescent version of Abba’s Dancing Queen (including a sneaky shout out to Snap!)

(By the way I’m not terribly excited about the shout out, the band Snap! actually included the exclamation mark in their name, making it rather difficult to discuss them in a calm manner. It was the nineties, we did things differently then.)

Dancing Queen – Moped

Two-thousand and four! You know the score!
Come on people! Let’s get busy with the fizzy!
Insane-ia-ism!

You can dance, you can dance,
Party people!
Having the time of your life,
I wanna see you shake your booty with a significant degree of confidence tonight! Yes!
Ooh, see that girl, watch that scene,
Digging the dancing queen,

In dancing queen!

Oh yes!

That’s right!

Friday night and the lights are hot,
Hangin’ with Moped give it all you got,
Little bit of fresh flavour, I’m gonna make you dance,
We’re in the mood for some trance,

Only Moped could be those guys,
I’m quite small while the other two are high,
Bumping in your disco, we’re coming in your ears,
In brand new underpants,

And when you get the chance,
You are the dancing queen, young and sweet only seventeen,
It’s not eighteen but it’s legal!
Dancing queen, feel the meat from a tangerine, oh yeah!
Arrr-aargh!
You can dance,
Yes!
You can jive, having the time of your life,
You’re twisting the lemons man!
See that girl,
My lemons!
Watch that scene,
Whip it!
Digging the dancing queen,
Arrr-aargh!

Urrrrrrrrrrrrr!

You’ve got to push the groove and pump it up to the max,
We’re like a train to your brain laying down nineteen fresh tracks,
We’ll always run to the rhythm, get down with the flow,
We’re bigger than the Beatles! You do it – Darius!
Duh-uhhh,

Yes! That’s right!
I’m serious as eczema when I’m playing on my decks!

Huh!

You are the dancing queen, young and sweet only seventeen,
Dancing queen! She’s bootiful! Really bootiful!
You are the dancing queen, young and sweet only seventeen,
Inhale! Exhale! Don’t forget to breathe!
You are the dancing queen,

Thank you! I love your English face!

And your butt,

Sweet Child of Moped

It is, in my opinion, a great crime that the lyrics to Moped’s various reinterpretations of rock and pop classics do not seem to be available online.

To understand Moped there are a few things you need to be aware of. For instance, the existence of Scooter – a German dance group who specialise in taking samples of other people’s songs, putting a dance beat behind them and then shouting random nonsense over the top.

It also helps to know that Scooter had a mainstream hit in 2002 with a piece based around Supertramp’s Logical Song.

And the final piece of the puzzle is that in the wake of Scooter’s Logical Song, some fun loving British lads created a parody group named Moped and sent a pastiche of Scooter’s style – based around Coldplay’s Clocks – into the popular Chris Moyles radio show, which inexplicably decided to play it.

And then Moped kept doing it, and the rest is history.

Anyway, I find their stuff hilarious and thought it was abut time their unique interpretations of the modern dance form got some love, so here’s my best attempt at the lyrics of their spectacular cover of the Guns N’ Roses classic Sweet Child of Mine.

Sweet Child of Mine – Moped

Yes! Moped are back, going back in time like Doctor Who! But we don’t have a TARDIS. But we do have a Talbot Horizon…

Oh-wo-wo-wo sweet child of mine!

This time we’re rocking for the UK Posse. Cream! Gatecrasher! Nexus Wine Bar! Crystal! And Joker! In between the kebab shop and the taxi rank!

Guns n’ Roses are hot, and it seems to me,
That we’re back on the remix in 2003,
Yes, Moped are phat! It’s satisfaction guarantee!
(Moped are subject to status, terms and conditions apply, ask for written details)

Now and then when I feel the base,
It takes me away to that raving place,
And if I rave too long, I’ll probably miss my last bus and it’s a long walk back to Battenburg let me tell you…

Yes!

Oh-oh-oh sweet child of mine,
Irritation for the nation!
Oo-oo-oo sweet love of mine,
Mmmmm-nice!

She’s got flavour and she’s all gravy,
But I’ve absolutely no idea what that means, and, and now I’ve missed my place in the verse, and, I’ll catch up, it’s coming up in a little bit there, eh, here we go!

Her hair reminds me of the one safe place,
Like Ibiza or Clacton-on-Sea,
We go there all of the time you know,
To get fresh with the Moped Posse,

Here we go!

Oh-oh-oh sweet child of mine,
Fresh with the flavour!
Oo-oo-oo sweet love of mine,
Freestyle! Key-change!

Oh-oh-oh sweet child of mine oh-oh-oh!
Bring back thats beats!
Oo-oo-oo sweet love of mine,
Moonshanka!

Arrr-agh!

I’m the wide runner, I’m the big hitter,
You can’t get better than quick-fit fitter,
Up, fork, you know the score,
Don’t leave towels on the bathroom floor,
Clunk, click, Chas and Dave,
UK Posse gonna hear me rave,
I’m the rhythm police, the baseline protector,
When I say ‘bo’ you say ‘selector’,
Hick, schlep, bacon and eggs,
Guns N’ Roses, they have legs,
I’m the lord of the dance, I’m hung like fire,
This Moped vibe gonna take you higher,
I-I-I-I can’t find my way out of the recording studio, where do we go now?

Arrr-agh!

Real mega-nice!

Where do we go?

Get fresh with this!

Where do you go kids?

Sweet child! Of moped!

Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

No Sleep ‘Till Nairobi

And yet another lyrics post, this time to the song No Sleep ‘Till Nairobi by the band S’ who seem to have gone out of their way to make their name impossible to either conjugate or Google. No matter, the song – from the far off days of 2006 – stands as perhaps the best invocation of the loneliness of the long distance traveler ever penned.

No Sleep ‘Till Nairobi

S’

No sleep ’till Nairobi,
I’m sorry to leave,
But honey, you know me, and you know that I need,
To shake off this laugh track,
And wander alone,
But I’m always half back here at home,

Where we’re running frantic,
Trying to move,
Above the Atlantic, I got nothing to prove,
I’m solving this cocktail,
While you’re on the run,
And I’m watching this rock sail round the sun,

No sleep ’till Nairobi,
These weeks are too long,
But as the days go, we sing traveling songs,
To hum throughout Heathrow,
Yeah, it’s duty-free,
Are you using that seat?
No, I guess it’s just me,

Yeah, I guess it’s just me,

Oh, I guess it’s just me,

Out on the tarmac,
Boarding a plane,
Staring at stars that, I cannot name,
Everyone’s weary,
What time is it now?
Well ready, ’cause here we go somehow,

No sleep till Nairobi,
The credit card’s cashed,
Sick of this so we, slowly get smashed,
When we don’t feel well we’ll,
Say our goodbyes,
But I can call from my cell, ’till the battery dies,

We find ourselves, in cheap hotels, wondering why we cannot sleep,
We sit and stare, just outside where, strangers straggle through the streets,
And up this late, we compensate, with hot black coffee and CNN,
Until it’s clear, that though we’re here, it doesn’t mean we see an end,

To lonely drives, and drinks in dives, and anxious rides to who knows where,
(No sleep ’till Nairobi, I’m sorry to leave,  But honey, you know me, and you know that I need,)
Propeller planes, and Amtrak trains, and soaking rains in summer air,
(To shake off this laugh track, and wander alone, but I’m always half back here at home,)
And since that’s so, it’s time to go, so grab your clothes from off the floor,
(No sleep ’till Nairobi, I’m sorry to leave,  But honey, you know me, and you know that I need,)
I think we might, just chase this night, that’s passing right outside the door,
(To shake off this laugh track, and wander alone, but I’m always half back here at home,)

Where we’re running frantic,
I’m trying to move,
Above the Atlantic, I got nothing to prove,
I’m solving this cocktail,
While you’re on the run,
And I’m watching this rock sail round the sun,

Not Worth Hiding

Fadades notwithstanding, I haven’t done a lyric transcription in ages, so I thought I’d get back in the saddle by getting down the lyrics of Alex the Astronaut’s beautiful new track Not Worth Hiding. Definitely going to be in my Hottest 100 list this year for both its message, and for just being a really sweet song. So here we go…

Not Worth Hiding

Alex the Astronaut

I learnt to drive to school when I was sixteen,
And I was happy with my friends and we skipped class for time to breathe,
We learnt about the stars and the trees,
I cried when I found kissing boys wasn’t for me,

So I tried every trick in the book,
I tried talking to the pretty boys, and changed the way I looked,
But wearing dresses to impress just left me lonely and upset,
And the boys could tell when I looked at her I wasn’t interested in them,

It’s not worth hiding if you’ve got something to say,
And it’s not worth smiling if you’re feeling in pain,
And it’s not worth hiding if you think you might be gay,
Or different in another way, you’re perfect just the same,

I opened the paper and it left me in shame,
Said that these contagious gays aren’t safe and you should keep your kids away,
But I grew older and bolder, and my friends caught on slowly,
Nineteen and withdrew the weight from my shoulders,

We sang,
It’s not worth hiding if you’ve got something to say,
And it’s not worth smiling if you’re feeling in pain,
And it’s not worth hiding if you think you might be gay,
Or different in another way, you’re perfect just the same,

So tell me, anyone?
If you love them as a daughter, could you love them as a son?
We all smile at different faces, we all blush at different names,
But holding someone’s hand should never make you feel ashamed,

Your story might not be at all like mine,
I don’t mean to simplify, this should be in your own voice and your own time,
But the cages that they’ve made us, should soon just rust away,
And this song just won’t need singing, but for now I’ll let it play,

It’s not worth hiding if you’ve got something to say,
And it’s not worth dying for the people who will smile at your name,
And it’s not worth lying if you’re feeling in pain,
And it’s not worth hiding, ’cause happiness could be on your way,

Lyrics – Hampden Parks and Recreation

I’ve spotted a few people in my logs looking for these lyrics, so, here’s my best shot at them. You’re welcome!

Hampden Parks (Freestyle Friday #7) – E-Dubble

Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay!

Yeah some days, I feel unfazed,
Like when I’m with my friends with a cup raised,
But come Monday, I got a gun raised,
Suicidal do or die until hump day,
Then I go right back at it like an automatic,
More drinks, more songs, more beats to rap,
For me to shrink, I’m gone, more time keeps passing,
No watch no thoughts at all just a hat,

New era – Rep my P’s and those O’s
Need a Phillies with the orange and black to feel home,
From Citizens Bank back to Camden Yards,
It’s the tale of two cities and trust we go hard,
Trust we go hard?
Yes we go hard,
You said we go hard?
I said we go hard,

Rockin’ my Bob Couseys, stockin’ up on the looseleaf,
The lyrics come easy but the life is a doozy,
And yes I’m choosy and no I won’t settle,
But I still take pop-off over that kettle,
Cuz’ I’m talking bigger picture and yes I’m gonna hitcha with that…

No shit!

Speak when necessary, no I never been a loud mouth,
Introvert but I insert a few wow-outs,
No Nick Cannon, David Banner when I pow-wow,
Hennessy but hold the hip I’m ’bout to have a brown out,
Clowns runnin’ round with the make up on they face,
To that I’m astringent – I been this way,
New bars, new beats, yeah that’s me all day
New cars, new freaks, no you keep that main,

I’m a business man, in a business, man!
Obstacles made me who I am,
Let loose, no truce, my boots come off,
Once Black Paisley has made my family’s fortune,
With a corner office and the greener pastures,
Sip cheap liquor till’ I’m leaning backwards,
Grip this dream you can see my passion,
Rep my city no beef with Asher,

Blue Bella and Blood help me write the chapters,
I’ll be home soon and we’ll toast the Asti,
Sip mimosas till me no-no my name,
EVA phhhht – I’m gone again!

Back to the mansion and yes I’m home again,
Rockin’ in Hampden and yes you know the name,
Young English – Black Paisley – Irish Toothache, who they be?
Who they be?
Who they be?
Who they be?
Well they be us!
Poor English, screwed up semantics,
I am talking real shit, speak my language,
Celebrate the blemishes, throw away the tentative,
I be on some other shit so go and tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,

Tell them other kids whatever you like,
It’s freestyle Friday, March 9 19th whatever,
I don’t doo derrrrrr ithat wenthay,
Dooba dooba dabba dooba deeba dub dub,
Rap songs, rap music we do what we want,
Dooba dabba dooba deeba dabba dooba the fronts…

Yeah, now look, I just checked my uh, checked the weather, on my phone, on my telephone, on my cellular telephone, it’s supposed to get up to 71 degrees today! S’posed to get up to 71 degrees. Holy guacamole. Hey y’know it’s not a traditional, saying for a rapper to say but holy guacamole’s underused, and um, what I’m trying to say is – it’s Springtime! OK? We’ve weathered the storm! Happy Freestyle Friday, seeya guys.

Snakes into Saints

In a follow up to my last post, I was recently quite disappointed to learn that the lyrics to the Killers’ Mr Brightside are not ‘turning snakes into the sea’, but ‘turning saints into the sea’, which is still a bloody puzzling thing to say, but somehow nowhere near as cool.

This is the second thing I got wrong about the song. When I first heard it I thought it was about seeing someone you have a thing for – but are too timid to attempt a shot at – going home from a bar or party with someone else. It actually turns out to be about suspecting your partner is having an affair.

I find it darkly amusing that my brain – even when simply considering a song – refused to construct a scenario where I have a partner, and instead cast me in the role of the pathetic, forever alone guy watching the girl he wants walking away ;D

The Fantastic Sounds of the Pictures

Featuring the Spazzys

I’ve taken a day off of work to get my head in order after the Melbourne trip. Rather than spend any time blogging about it, or putting up the many photos I took, I’ve spent the day pottering about the house and listening to mp3s, one of which just happened to be See You Home Tonight from the Pictures’ 2007 release The Fantastic Sounds of the Pictures.

Not only is this a great song, but it features the vocal talents of the Spazzys, so there’s frankly no circumstances under which I could ever dislike it. That said – somewhat ironically given the album title – the sound production on the track is fairly muffled and muddy, which makes it rather difficult to pick out the lyrics. This hasn’t previously bothered me unduly, but today I was struck with a sudden desire to find them out. “No problem!” I thought “I’ll look them up on the interwebs!” but to my shock and horror, I couldn’t seem to locate them anywhere.

This is not a situation that can be allowed to stand, so I’ve just spend the last half hour playing the song over and over, and listening intently to a live version some kind soul put up on YouTube. As a result, I can now present the following lyrics, which (apart from one bit in the first verse) I am 100% certain are correct.

(The bits in italics are sung by the Spazzys, just so that’s clear…)

See You Home Tonight
by The Pictures (featuring The Spazzys)

I know you won’t want to come to my party,
But if you do (we’ll throw the chance away ??),
Dance and drink the whole night long,
Until my pal, he finally lets me say…

So I’m asking you,
‘Cause he can’t ask himself,
Can he see you home tonight?

No he can’t,
No he can’t,

I know there must be something I missed,
If he’s too shy, for it to come to this,
Well that all might be very well,
But with the crush he got on you, well I just can’t tell!

So I’m asking you,
‘Cause he can’t ask himself,
Can he see you home tonight?

No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,

Now we got the sun rise up,
It’s time to know if he’s all out of luck,
Before you run and get away,
Just give us one more chance to hear me say…

So I’m asking you,
Can you ask yourself?
Can he see you home tonight?

Can he see you home?
He can see me home,
Can he see you home tonight?

No regrets,
See you home tonight…
No regrets,
No regrets,
See you home tonight…
No regrets,

Ursarkar E. Creed’s Favourite Song

Kell on the other hand can’t stand it…

(With profound apologies to Pig with the Face of a Boy)

I had a little stormbolter,
He was my only friend,
I took him to the holoshow,
And loved him ’till the end,

I had a little barking toad,
On my windowsill,
And he ate all the flies,
That came in my room,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Or I’ll have to cut your head off, with a blunt chainsword,

I had a little plasma gun, I shot it at a Tau,
I fired off six shots and I burnt my hand on the grip,
I stole a Sister’s laud-hailer and used it to do this,
CREEEEEEED!!!
But then a Necron broke it so I damaged all his face,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Or I’ll have to wipe the remnants of your insides off my face,

Please don’t tread on my little barking toad,
He’s my only, only friend in the whole wide world,
He was little, and green, and he kept me free from flies,
Until someone trod on him, and he exploded, destroying everything for a radius of approximately one kilometre,
And it was very, very sad,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
How would you like it if I stole your cogigtator?
And I gave it to an Eldar in exchange for spirit stones?

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha! ha! ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha! ha! ha ha ha!
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA,
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh,

Good!

With Apologies to Heywood Banks

All across the country from west to east,
People always ask me what I like to eat,
I don’t wanna brag, or be indiscrete,
I always tell them, I like meat…
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!

I get up in the morning ’bout six am,
Get myself some bacon, get myself a pan,
Pick me out a rasher, put it on the griddle,
Turn up the dial till the fat starts to sizzle,
I cook meat…
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!

When the first caveman got up on his feet,
Didn’t know what kind of things he could eat,
Must have been a genius, cause he got an idea,
Get a stick and a rock, fashion up a spear,
To hunt meat…
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!

There’s no secret to carnivore perfection,
Go talk to your butcher and make a selection,
Roast it in the oven or fry it on the grill,
Or serve it on a spike like they do in Brazil ,
With their meat…
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!
YEAH MEAT!!!!!!!!

(The inevitable result of email discussions with the guys about planning a return visit to that Brazilian barbecue place. Puzzled? Click here…)