DO NOT OVER EXERT

 

From Yoga Moves with Alan Finger (1983)

Do not over exert they say, as the dynamic, gyrating figures on the screen make impossible shapes at a pace so rapid that it warps the variables of light and colour, space and time. Tantric and Kriya Yoga Master Alan Finger has a lot to answer for. I will be calling him to account.

DIE RHEUMASCHULE 2

 

Suggested calisthenic routine from The Rheumatism School booklet. Come on, get to it.

DIE RHEUMASCHULE 1

The Rheumatism School is a 45 record that pairs pleasant, upbeat music with the soothing and persuasive voice of Renate Braasch. I don't speak German but, judging by the title and the accompanying booklet, it seems to be encouraging listeners to do some exercise, or gymnastikübungen. 

I'm not a Doctor, but I certainly wouldn't recommend the sort of activity pictured on the cover for anyone with muscular-skeletal issues, but then the record was produced by big pharma company Nordmark, premier producers of painkillers.

DIRK BOGARDE RELAXES ON SET

I don't know why, but I'm obsessed with this publicity photograph of Dirk Bogarde and a parrot. My wife says there's something wrong with me, and I can hardly disagree. What I like to do is to put it up in different places in the house and see how long it takes her to discover it. It's a form of psychological warfare, really, and I feel bad about it, I really do, but I won't stop because I can't.

What do I like about it? First and foremost, it's the forced, fake nature of the thing. Secondly, because I know that Dirk was waspish and acerbic in real life, I'm sure he hated every second. Third - I'll bet the parrot disliked it too and, in a best case fantasy scenario, told Bogarde to 'fuck off out of it' after a few snaps of the camera.

I have been working on a Dirk Bogarde impersonation for a while, and, after an enormous amount of work, have finally managed to sound simultaneously posh and tremulous and sardonic and tired and angry and arch whilst reciting a couple of key lines. The house is dropping to bits, my hair is falling out, the world is on fire but, on the plus side, I'll be able to do a passable rendition of this dead British actor by 2027.

ONE CHANSON, TWO SONGS

I've always had a keen interest in the mechanics of popular music, and, as I've grown older, that has led to short, intense obsessions with certain songs and artists, what my friend Ian calls 'rabbit holes' - things you disappear into, occasionally ill-advisedly. Where appropriate, I'll share some of my findings here. Naturally, I find what follows fascinating - other viewpoints may apply.

Amoureuse is a song that was written in 1972 by French singer-songwriter Veronique Sanson. Sanson was inspired by staying out late with her boyfriend. As she drove home early in the morning (she still lived with her parents) she realised that she was, for the first time, in love, with all the excitement and uncertainty that brings - amoureuse is a feminine noun meaning 'a woman in love'. It's a great song, and Veronique's version of the song is sung well, but is a little matter-of-fact - the backing is quite flat and doesn't build anywhere near enough tension as it moves to the chorus. 

British songwriter Gary Osborne heard the song and decided to translate the lyrics into English. He did so as faithfully as he could, but introduced the concept of sexual as well as romantic love. It was recorded by Kiki Dee in 1973 and is a masterpiece - Kiki sounds amazing, and the arrangement is complex and multi-faceted. The song swells and swirls, full of drama and mystery - it is cinematic and evocative, you experience every line. As a child, the drama of the song confused me and I took the 'when I am far away, I feel the rainfall of another planet' line literally, mentally filing alongside songs like 'Space Oddity' and 'Rocket Man'.

There were two other versions of the Osborne version recorded at more or less the same time - a sort of faintly groovy but facile version by Pickettywitch singer Polly Brown (who later become 'allergic to the 20th century') and a pleasant but slightly limp attempt by Olivia Newton John, but you can easily find those yourselves. Here's the erstwhile Pauline Matthews: Miss Kiki Dee...

In America, songwriter Patti Dahlstrom was asked by Warner Brothers to rewrite the original for an American audience. She dispensed with the original lyrics, and instead simply wrote down what came into her head as she listened, concocting a scenario about a woman in a tenuous and frustrating relationship who, nevertheless, is unable to break away because of the passion of the affair.  Retitled 'Emotion' (which perhaps sums up the less nuanced nature of the lyric), it was a US hit in 1974 for the engaging and hugely successful American based Australian singer Helen Reddy. 

This take is poppy, slightly lightweight, occasionally verging on being a country ballad. It has its charms ('then you stumble in - and I am tumbling back to where it begins' is the highlight, I think), but it lacks the depth of the Osborne version or, indeed, the original.

Shirley Bassey recorded a  rather disinterested version of the US 'cover' in 1975 - ill advisedly, perhaps, as the UK version had much more potential for the sort of showboating she is best known for. At the risk of being rude, I wonder if this was because she was - at 38 -  simply too old to play the role of the ingenue.

Sanson has said that Reddy's perky take was her favourite version of the song, but it could be that a. it is different enough from the original to be admired with detachment and / or b. it made her the most money.