[10] Rufus Wainwright, ‘I Don’t Know What It Is’

Rufus Wainwright

One day, Junior and her sister will have haphazard hitmaking careers of their own, keeping me in Earl Grey and cheeky Hoegaarden four-packs into my dotage. Perhaps one of them will even have the courtesy to pen a ‘Bloody Motherf***ing A**hole’ paean to their dear old Pops, to bring a tear to a wrinkly peeper. O happy day, eh?

Martha’s already a big noise around here, so Junior was intrigued to hear bruv in action. She practised saying his name – “Woofus” – and paused after the Gay Messiah’s final crescendo to rate the song “Lovely”. It is as well. As ornate, grandiose, heart-swelling and gaudy as anything on Want One, it makes me bellow along in the car like an octave-battering diva on wheels. Woofus is on a hunt for himself and I’ve no idea if he ever did turn up, but the search is a thrill.

Chugging along:

[14] PM Dawn, ‘A Watcher’s Point Of View (Don’t Cha Think)’

PM Dawn

In the pub last night, I launched a robust Hoegaarden-driven defence of PM Dawn’s ‘Set Adrift On Memory Bliss’, thinking it was coming up next and determined to hold my ground. Now I see I got the wrong song, I withdraw my comments. This was always much better. Junior thought it was ace, running through her full repertoire of shakes, rocks and bounces.

De La Soul crossed with The Beach Boys, that’s what they said, near enough. Prince Be was the hip hop Brian Wilson. He certainly carried the ballast.

Pretty, harmony-drenched raps, wordy titles and flaky lyrics only sustained them so long. We didn’t hear much from them after ’91, although I understand that they recently won some American, dignity-shedding revival contest. Maybe there’ll be a new PM Dawn dawn.

The Fatback Band, ‘I Found Lovin’’

Welcome to Junior’s second year. At Christmas we learned that she’s a dab hand at ripping off wrapping paper, and then eating it. The presents inside were barely a distraction. She said goodbye to 2005 at about 7pm on New Year’s Eve, giving her parents the opportunity to tear into the alcohol that was still knocking around the house. We had Hoegaarden, buck’s fizz and of course champagne, and slagged off NYE telly. Jools Holland’s thing was ok, I suppose, if you like KT Tunstall, Goldfrapp and the Kaiser Chiefs. We can take or leave all that around here.

‘I Found Lovin’’ was an inspired present for me from Junior’s mum. A 1983 picture sleeve 7”, in fact. It’s an old favourite, and always the first record played in the pub after we’d come in from the football. Junior’s Uncle Paddy has been waiting for a re-release of it for some time, so he’s going to be all jealous.

Junior hums along to it, from the mat where she’s throwing around the toys, old and new. If I was starkly honest with myself, I’d say she was humming because the first signs of teeth are bothering her, but instead let’s say that she was getting lost in its rare groove and faint fragrance of Kronenbourg in plastic glasses.