Sunday Morning Camden Town

“Sunday morning Camden Town. Perfect time to hang around in London ...” A day out in London. To start this sequence Louis Philippe is back to suggest we start out in Camden Town. Thankfully he doesn’t mention the market in his song Sunday Morning Camden Town. And he wins us over with the closing couplet: “I make a poor Romeo. Forget my lines and let you go. Cutting your way through the crowd ...” Among the many things Louis has done since is arrange the strings on God Save The Clientele. The video for the big hit from that record, Bookshop Casanova, features just about all you need to know about the finer things about London life. Bookshops, cafes, music, dancing, romance. And maybe, just maybe, the bookshop in question could be the sadly missed Compendium bookshop in Camden High Street, where eyes would furtively meet over the expensive Kerouac import editions, searching, appraising, hoping. As for cafes. Well, I bet there are people reading this who even know which cafe it was filmed in. I hope so.

Postman's Holiday

“West ‘Am, Wanstead, Woolwich, Walthamstow. We reached the spot they call St Mary’s Cray, and then I says to ma, now you musn’t go too far ...” Gus Elen was one of the great Cockney characters or coster singers of the Music Hall era. In Sweet Saturday Night Colin MacInnes writes: “I hope the reader will not yet be minding all the praises I lavish on Gus Elen, and would excuse myself for this infatuation by admitting he is my favourite Music Hall artist – in part, of course, because I was able to see him, but even more because his temperament, sturdy, laconic, tolerant and robust – so perfectly reflected in his harsh, friendly, sardonic, forthright voice – have exactly the qualities I most admire in Londoners, and miss most when I am not among them. He had also a sure taste in his choice of songs – even the greatest artists often come up with some dreadful numbers, but Elen never.” This song, The Postman’s Holiday, chosen and provided by Andy Hitchcock, sees Elen’s character getting a rare day off and taking the family for a day out and a bit of country air, but of course nothing is straight forward. “We got weary on our pins, lost the bloomin’ twins ...” The recording dates from the early ‘30s when Elen returned to the stage, as does this remarkable piece of rare footage ...

Cockney Translation

"The translation of cockney to understand is easy. So long as you ain't deaf and you listen me keenly. You should pick it up like a youth who find some money. Go tell it to your friends and also your family. No matter if a English or a Yardy ..." Another smash from the Fashion label, Smiley Culture's Cockney Translation pitched the old against the new, helpfully detailing English like what it is spoken. It was even a minor hit in the mid 1980s when the UK reggae scene generally and the Saxon Sound System specifically produced a number of talented DJs who were talking about daily life in London with considerable wit and wisdom. "Sweet as a nut.... just level vibes seen?"

Domestic Science

"With much less lolly in our pop, still we don't stop. 'Coz we find resource turn water into wine every time ..." says Wildflower on Domestic Science by Skitz. While this is not likely to be the 12" Earl Zinger was rushing 'round London to get hold of, it is the standout track from the Skitz Country Man LP. Out of 23 Skidoo's Ronin stable, DJ/producer Skitz is one of many unsung heroes of UK hip hop. On Domestic Science he got together three of the most promising MCs on the London scene, and seizing the opportunity Wildflower, Tempa and Estelle give their side of daily travails, with a London accent, "whether it's rapping or working on the checkouts at Asda." If you want to know more about how the media and music business works it's worth investigating what happened subsequently to all the particpants in Domestic Science. It's quite a lesson. There is a better quality cut of this video, if you need it here ...

Saturday Morning Rush

"Er, yeah, yeah, I know it's your sister's wedding. No, of course, I'm not going up west to buy records. Yeah, I'll be back by 12.30. Yeah. Later ..." One of the great traditions of the West End and Soho is shopping for records. Names change. Shops come and go. But the need remains. Even now. In these troubled times. But how many songs are there about the act itself? Earl Zinger's Saturday Morning Rush captures perfectly that illicit trip, the race against time, the oh so necessary excursion to go get a certain record. The one time Mr Galliano sets off from home in Hackney, heads up to the West End searching for that elusive Skitz 12". The sense of movement is perfect, the detail extraordinary, and it's as funny as hell. It's also another song that mentions getting a number 73 bus.

Six O'Clock

"The streets are dark and empty. And Soho's closed its doors. The late night bus has been and gone. And I've drunk till I can't drink no more ..." Sunday morning coming down. That sort of feeling. Neatly captured in Six O'Clock by The Tyrrel Corporation. Early '90s duo of John Watson and Tony Barry. Conscious House. Uplifting sounds and a bit of socio-realism in the words. The Style Council meets Ten City. Cruelly neglected. Their two LPs well worth investigating. Six O'Clock is one of their finest moments though. The song ends: "There's huddled shapes along the river as the sun begins to rise. Maybe things ain't all that bad when you look thru someone else's eyes ..." Amen.

Last Night in Soho

"I never told you of some things I've done I'm so ashamed of. I thought my foolish past was over and done. I felt sure I'd make a new start. I tried with all of my heart. I had dreams and broke them in two. I'm just not worth of you! For last night in Soho I let my life go ..." A classic piece of songwriting from the team of Ken Howard and Alan Blaikley, and a controversial hit in 1968 for Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich. It's pure Night And The City drama in a three minute pop song. It's got everything. Someone trying to go straight. Got 'imself a good girl now. But he can't escape his past. The ties that bind us. One more job and he'll be free. The protection rackets. The darker side of Soho.

Life begins at Oxford Circus

"By heavens, Sid, if it wasn't for Saturday night I'd go bonkers." "Yeah, marvelous isn't it. Oh I can't wait to get into my pointed two-tones and off down the high street. You feel like a king. A clean shirt on, new Peckham, a pair of luminous almond rocks, a new whistle, a nice crease in my strides, the barnet greased up, flashing the Hampstead Heath to all the bona palones ..." Galton & Simpson knew what was what. The eternal redemption offered to workers by the weekend. As expressed in 1935 by the Jack Hylton Orchestra. "We don't care how hard they work us just as long as we have fun". Originally from a Crazy Gang revue, Life Begins At Oxford Circus, goes like this ...

Gabrielle

“Let’s go down to the old West End where we used to go when you were my girlfriend. Take a 73 to the city. You sitting there looking so pretty ...” 1979. Just kids. With Red Bus Rovers. The freedom of London’s buses for the day. Up to Blackheath and change on to the 53. Off to the West End. Oxford Street for the latest independent innovations on 7”. And Soho Market for the fanzines. Safe As Milk. Damaged Goods. Jamming! Maximum Speed. If you were lucky Shane McGowan would be working on the stall. Or Shane O’Hooligan, as he was then. The singer with The Nips. Later that year their single Gabrielle would be the coolest London anthem. A sweet, sweet song, which would lead irresistibly to other older r ‘n’ b records by the likes of Them and the Downliners Sect. The lines from The Nips’ Gabrielle about: “And though you never once gave it away I can still remember those crazy days. We’d dance all night and sleep all day. In the old West End everybody was dancing ...” would lead inevitably to the Pretty Things’ Midnight To Six ...

Gerrard Street

"Another thing I could not realise why they all had dark glasses on their eyes ..." King Timothy's Gerrard Street is a lovely calypsonian tribute to the live be-bop and modern jazz being played in Soho clubs of the early '50s. It appears on the essential Honest Jons compilation London Is The Place For Me 2, which is exquisitely packaged thanks to Will Bankhead's spot-on design work. The beautiful accompanying booklet features photos by Val Wilmer which speak volumes, and complement perfectly her own book Mama Told Me There'd Be Days Like These with itperspective on the Soho clubs and jazz world of the '50s into the '60s and the way things evolved. And while this clip is from the mid-'60s it does feature London jazz legend Tubby Hayes with his big band performing an eminently appropriate number ...