The Songs of Ian Dury

When life was simpler and I was a teenage criminal. This may be a major confession for a third geek on the left in the school play whose only danger of theatrical faux pas was to have a fit of giggles as there is only so many times that "Lo My Liege Thee must go...", before the funny bone gets cramp.

But today I digress, to return to plot, I confess it was New Year's Eve, an old Grey Whistle Test was entertaining teenagers who were not quite actually out there enjoying themselves. A well known pop combo of the time that had managed to migrate into the new wave mainstream was "in concert" on the basis of "What a Waste" ~ a hit single.

I was recording the sound as produced by the TV onto a tape by a high tech tape recorder of the time ~ it had big knobs that went chunk. This was not high tech downloading as recognised by a modern day teenager and several door slams were inadvertently added to the production mix.

Ian Dury played on. The Blockheads played on. Ian Dury and the Blockheads played on.

He sang in a voice that was not quite Diva-like, which was a good thing. I, like the next man, may appreciate the double-falsetto-soprano-triple-octave-whatever, but my appreciation is brief. Brief as in nanoseconds. The subsequent 2 minutes 29 seconds and counting were not so appreciated, I kinda like the rough edges. Welcome Ian Dury.

Ian Dury sang in a prose that coupled rhyme with a reason left to the imagination.

Punk was born from garage band making a sound, whilst only having just learning how to play and somehow knew how to play a Top Thirty hit, with song titles that had a fair chance of not including the word "Love" or "Baby" ~ a good thing. But here was a band ~ the Blockheads~who played and did know how to play.

On the strength of this I bought the album. It was and still is a classic from rolling over to Dickies.

And back in the day when time was available to look at minutia of each and every cover detail. I did. I pored over "New Boots and Panties" the album, the black vinyl album that shone with more colour than the cover. I loved that cover, baby; the history in its photo-montage that hinted at the good, the bad and the handsome in ugly times.

The follow-up I bought on the strength I was a true fan, even if seeing them live was not in the diary. Remember I was still a graduating geek going on nerd going on cool. I listened and wished I was not a true fan as to coin a phrase it was "What a Waste".

But we forgive and as a post note ~ Ian Dury's wonderful song "Sweet Gene Vincent" should have been my wedding first dance song, but that's what you get for hiring a 50 pound-a-night DJ who could not go passed Wake me up before you Go-Go, without passing "Careless Whisper". A reflection on my life's could have beens. My life purrs on imperfectly.

The Blockheads played on and apparently, by urban myth, on several other band's records that had only just learned to play a mean guitar.

Ian Dury died before he grew old, as an icon, but this to me was one rock star who looked as if growing old may have just been, would have been a good thing. He seemed a good bloke. Sad.