It’s not exactly autumn, but it feels that way today, so when Autumn Almanac popped into my ears this morning, it reminded me of how much I love the bit that you first hear exactly one minute into the song in between the la-la-las and “oh, my poor rheumatic back”. I have no idea exactly what it is, it’s some kind of Wurlitzer-fuzz-guitar hybrid, and it’s fantastic, if anyone knows what instrument it actually is, there’s a Werther’s Original in it for them. Ray, ol’ bean, you may not be able to dodge the bullets, but you can’t dodge musical genius either and for that you’re all right by me any day of the week, and while we’re at it, Happy 63rd Birthday for yesterday. It seems apt that he’s born on the longest day of the summer, despite the song discussed here, as he’s a regular anglosolar poet. Besides the obvious Sunny Afternoon and Waterloo Sunset, there’s a very particular English sunshine suffusing all of his work, even at its most cynical. Also, while we’re here, the line “some mother’s son” in Wonderboy. I love that n’all.
Moments of pleasure #2: Sweep them in your sack