Malcolm wonders …

41V4FMK6AAL._SL500_AA300_… about lots of things:

  • Does he feel up to giving the Redfellow Hovel lawn a touch of the mower?
  • What is that strange low ache in his left side? Is it terminal or just a strained musclette?
  • Who is the arse who drives a lorry, sans le pot d’échappement, past at 3 a.m. each morning, during the second sleep? If it’s News International, can it be legitimately bombed?
  • Is there really an estate agency with a balanced number of complaints and plaudits?
  • Is Eric Pickles really necessary? Or — the nightmare alternative — is he Jabba the Hut in drag?

… and so on.

This Monday morning two particular considerations perplexed Malcolm:

Let him deliberate further on that last one.

That’s one reading of the seminal text, including the glitch which wikipedia explains as:

The original song recorded in stereo had the word “Coca-Cola” in the lyrics, but because of BBC Radio’s policy against product placement, Ray was forced to make a six thousand mile round-trip flight from New York to London—interrupting the band’s American tour—to change those words to the generic “cherry cola” for the single release.

Referring to the iTunes library on the Big Bastard back-up hard drive, Malcolm reckons there there may be three, at least, very different versions. At TCD the undergraduate Malcolm would now pencil a note in the margin of the Homer, Horace or Herodotus text: variae lectiones (“variant readings”, i.e. the editors still haven’t sussed what the original could have been, but some medieval monken copyist clearly got it wrong).

The three locations for the club seem to be Muswell Hill, Notting Hill and — of course — Old Soho.

Why this matters

Lola is the anthem for Muswell Hill and its Hill-billy population. No New Years Eve party (or similar booze-up) really takes off until, suitably slaked, the gathering can reclaim its own inner Davies and join raggedly in the chorus.



Filed under Kinks, Music, Muswell Hill

3 responses to “Malcolm wonders …

  1. Doubting Thomas

    My most recent ponderables include:

    Are Ant and Dec aliens?
    Why should a walrus have swum to North Ronaldsay only to bugger off after 2 days?
    What took him so long to decide to go?
    I can’t include Whither Canada? since it’s ever present.

  2. Malcolm Redfellow

    To quote that great vers-libre poet, Donald Rumsfelt:

    Reports that say that something hasn’t happened
    Are always interesting to me, because
    As we know, there are known knowns; there are things
    We know we know. We also know there are
    Known unknowns; that is to say we know there are
    Some things we do not know. But there are also
    Unknown unknowns the ones we don’t know we
    Don’t know. And if one looks throughout the history
    Of our country and other free countries,
    It is the latter category that tend
    To be the difficult ones.

    So, in order, to yours above: Who? I thought they were yet another of those constructs that beam out of the supermarket rotogravure.

    Aha! The interesting one. I know two things about a walrus: it shared a double-feature with a chippie in Lewis Carroll, and its Latin descriptor is odobenus rosmarus — which sounds curiously fragrant. However, the Orcadian odobenus (hereafter “Oddy”) is an interesting example of how the ‘news’ we are given is either truncated, or my reading thereof is deficient. Here in the Deep South of the Great Wen, we have been informed of the presence of Oddy but not — yet, at least — of his departure.

    Oddy may have read the Orkneyinga saga, learned the fate of Einarr Rögnvaldarson, and decided to scarper.

    Whither? indeed.

  3. Pingback: Every day a new distraction | Malcolm Redfellow's Home Service

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