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What CD's are you blasting out right now?
Moderator: andysfootball
Good shout, my favourites are Jailbait from the 1st album, from the later stuff Rest in Peace, Ships in Sky, Underground, Way of the World and Living Proof.jimmywizz wrote:pooter blowing free by the ash has to be one of the all time greats
Great band and still going strong, saw them last year. In 2003 the bassist was ill at the concert we went to and was replaced for the night by the bassist from the tribute band Asbone U Wish. It was great as they had to play all the stuff he knew which was from the first 3 albums.
Currently some UNKLE track or other and I'm a downloader rather than a purchaser of CDs (you can't trust CDs nowadays if you want to rip to a compy like I do, you never know what 'enhancements' you might find on them)
Last CD I bought was Goldfrapp, Supernature, last album I downloaded was actually Maximo Park, A Certain Trigger, they no bad.
Last CD I bought was Goldfrapp, Supernature, last album I downloaded was actually Maximo Park, A Certain Trigger, they no bad.
- jellybabyjenbob
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- Axeman
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Hey the other day I had just downloaded the first track of the first LP I ever owned.Tweedlady wrote:I like the 70/s music...
Led Zeppelin
Deep Purple
Def Leppard
Gary Moore
(lucky,my HB has the same taste in music,or I would be in trouble,I like it loud!)
Speed King from Deep Purple in Rock
Blew my head off as first time I had worn stereo headphones
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Play in an on-line lottery syndicate...WWW.BETLOTT.COM
Play in an on-line lottery syndicate...WWW.BETLOTT.COM
- jellybabyjenbob
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System of a Down -v- Guns N Roses - comparing heavy metal type sort of thing form two adjacent decades?jellybabyjenbob wrote:Lol...Two of them are for a 'compare and contrast' essay...guess which ones...spodge wrote:Jenny, it's illegal to mix music that ecclectic
or Joni Mitchell -v- Bob Dylan - comparing to big (hyped?) names from the 60s (Dylan is not God)
- jellybabyjenbob
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Nope, it's Beethoven -v- System of a Down .... for harmonic contrast! Handed in the essay this morn.GeoNeil wrote:System of a Down -v- Guns N Roses - comparing heavy metal type sort of thing form two adjacent decades?jellybabyjenbob wrote:Lol...Two of them are for a 'compare and contrast' essay...guess which ones...spodge wrote:Jenny, it's illegal to mix music that ecclectic
or Joni Mitchell -v- Bob Dylan - comparing to big (hyped?) names from the 60s (Dylan is not God)
This is what I’ve been listening to today…. It’s one of my favourite songs of all time…. I like the way John Williamson sings it best…
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda
The lyrics from Eric Bogle's song, written after observing an Anzac Day parade.
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the 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 stop ramblin', 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 call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered 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,
Well, 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 me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents 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 armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed 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 my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all 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 meself 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 the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda
The lyrics from Eric Bogle's song, written after observing an Anzac Day parade.
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the 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 stop ramblin', 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 call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered 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,
Well, 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 me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents 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 armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed 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 my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all 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 meself 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 the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?