What Are You Listening To?

[CRAZY-HORSE]

IAN DURY  "the bus driver's prayer and other stories" cd 1992

his seventh, nineth overall, i own nine
most of the Blockheads appear on here but one was pushing up daisies and another had retired
hailed as being a return to form lyrically and musically by the UK music press and i tend to agree
not that theres anything overtly wrong with some previous albums, this just seems more complete
theres the usual songs about life, love and the things he sees around him
interesting to note theres a song about pollution but its dont in a humorous way so it does not sound preachy
all up the album scores 2.4 from me which means
I LOVE THIS ALBUM

his dancehall/vaudeville pollution song





I took a sudden notion
To go down to the ocean
I'd got my sun-tan lotion
My flippers and my mask
In proper distribution
Of fully-formed ablutions
Formed an ocean of pollution
In which I daredn't bask

Some turds were teeny-tiny
And some were big and shiny
But they all fucked up the briney
In which I dipped my toe
If you go swimming in the shite-us
You'll get worse than dermititis
From the sea of grey detritus
Where the sewage ebbs and flows

There's no respite
From the cess-pit
No shelter from the pong
The poor old ocean
Is full of motions
Where the hell did we go wrong?
 might also
Like a lamb off to the slaughter
Pored myself a glass of water
I failed to spot I'd caught a
Little creature in my cup
I was well and truly bolleaux-ed
From the fires of hell that followed
T'was the cup of life I'd swallowed
And it almost did me up

Something coming
Through the plumbing
That should not be there at all
The glass is brimming
And things are swimming
And quite frankly, I'm appalled

I was a very hungry fella
I defrosted my paella
Came down with Salmonella
Three weeks intensive care
They failed to send technicians in
To check the air-conditioning
Which was unfortunately transmissioning
A case of Legionnaires

There's a malaise
In the mayonnaise
There's a poo-poo in the prawn
Where we missed them
In the system
Little germs are being born
There's no respite
From the cess-pit
There's no shelter from the pong
Where the hell did we go wrong?