Listen Up
Track: Science Fiction
Artist: Divinyls
Taken From: Desperate (1983)
Listen Up
Track: Boys In Town
Artist: Divinyls
Taken From: Monkey Grip OST / Desperate (1981 / 1983)
My all time fave Divinys track
So we are going on a bit of a time warp today with a handful of my fave tunes from the Divinyls queued up, this is the best way I can think to pay my respects to Chrissy who was an amazing artist by sharing the music with you. Hope you enjoy
Listen Up
Track: Pleasure and Pain
Artist: Divinyls
Taken From: What A Life! (1985)
These are desperate times my dear
I will play you on every jukebox, in every dive bar, till the end of the time.
Divinyls — Backs to the Wall (1988).
Peter Scott Peters — Fallout Shelter (1961)
From the wonderful article at CONELRAD Adjacent:
Of all the songs ever written about Cold War panic (or lack thereof), Peter Scott Peters’ amazing 45 single Fallout Shelter (Lute 6020, 1961) may well be the coolest. The two-minute, thirty-three second opus begins with a driving jazz beat that leads the listener to a slightly menacing spoken word refrain: “I’m not scared, I’m prepared, I’ll be spared.” The hepcat singer then brags about his bachelor pad bomb shelter being fully equipped for the atomic duration:
I’ve got a fallout shelter, it’s nine by nine
A Hi-Fi set and a jug of wine
Let the missiles fly from nation to nation
It’s party time in my radiation stationTHIS BELONGS IN FALLOUT
I don’t want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart.
(Source: inkspots.ca, via turner-d-century)
“Police Buddha” 「南無警察大菩薩」
Propaganda Poster, Japanese Colonial Period, Taiwan.
日治時代 台灣
If you meet the Buddha on the road, make sure you don’t have any open containers.
(via thehappysorceress)
Priscilla Moran asks Forrest Stanley to bring home some candy while talking on the tele-vision-phone in Up the Ladder, 1925
IMDb: “The invention and practical use, as a plot device, of a “tele-vision-phone” in a contemporary, as opposed to futuristic, setting, in a film produced in 1924, and released in 1925, is nothing short of remarkable.”
(via aethersafari)
|| Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, and I lived the free life of a rover | From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback, well, I waltzed my Matilda all over. | Then in 1915, my country said son, It’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done. | So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, and they marched me away to the war. | And the band played Waltzing Matilda, as the ship pulled away from the quay | And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli | And how well I remember that terrible day, how our blood stained the sand and the water | And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay, we were butchered like lambs at the slaughter. | Johnny Turk he was waiting, he’d primed himself well. He shower’d us with bullets, | And he rained us with shell. And in five minutes flat, he’d blown us all to hell | Nearly blew us right back to Australia. | But the band played Waltzing Matilda, when we stopped to bury our slain. | We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs, then we started all over again.| And those that were left, well we tried to survive, in that mad world of blood, death and fire | And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive, though around me the corpses piled higher | Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head, and when I woke up in my hospital bed, | And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead. | Never knew there was worse things than dyin’. | For I’ll go no more waltzing Matilda, all around the green bush far and free | To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs-no more waltzing Matilda for me. | So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed, and they shipped us back home to Australia. | The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane, those proud wounded heroes of Suvla | And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay, I looked at the place where me legs used to be. | And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me, to grieve, to mourn, and to pity. | But the band played Waltzing Matilda, as they carried us down the gangway. | But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared, then they turned all their faces away | And so now every April, I sit on me porch, and I watch the parades pass before me. | And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march, reviving old dreams of past glories | And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore. They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war | And the young people ask, what are they marching for? And I ask myself the same question. | But the band plays Waltzing Matilda, and the old men still answer the call, | But as year follows year, more old men disappear. Someday no one will march there at all. | Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me? | And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong, who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me? ||
And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda - Eric Bogle
For ANZAC Day. Lest we Forget.
