23. 10 Songs about New York and 24. 10 Songs for the Celtic Diaspora

I've put these two together, because, as you will see, they are linked together fairly closely in how I've approached them

10 Songs about New York

Myriad Harbour - New Pornographers
New York City Cops - The Strokes
Waiting for the Man - Velvet Underground
Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters - Elton John
NYC - Interpol
Across 110th Street - Bobby Womack
Spanish Harlem Incident - Bob Dylan
The Only Living Boy in New York - Simon and Garfunkel
Chelsea Hotel No 2 - Leonard Cohen
Rapture - Blondie

So these are the ten songs I've chosen about New York, though there are, of course, literally 100s and 100s to choose from, and some of them the finest songs in all popular music. I've tried to go for a fairly varied selection, which give a feel of the city and bring to mind specific places.
Not that I really know. I only went there once, and spent a frenetic fortnight trying to see every inch of the city I possibly could.
Not only do you get two lists for the price of one here, but within this first list you get two verses for the price of one (hurray) both brief, one about one of New York's finest, who is on the list above, one about the city itself.

Here's the first.

Deborah Harry: embarrassing granny
or the coolest fucker in the world?
I choose the latter - 63 year-old rapper.
There's still no topping the Sunday Girl.

Quite some life Debbie Harry has led. You don't meet many people who don't like Blondie at least a bit but I know one or two, and that did lead me to pause for thought before embracing the spectacle of seeing them doing Rapture in London and at Latitude a couple of years ago. Cool? Ridiculous?

Here's the second - you could call it Netherland if you were being a bit too clever

This isn't what I expected - first thing that I saw
from the back of a yellow cab, driving through Brooklyn
was cricket. And have I missed something or is
everywhere uptown these days? I'm not complaining
like I'm not complaining that my seaside town hunch
will have no use. This sure ain't Bob Dylan's New York

Oh so neatly, mention of Bob Dylan leads into my next post

10 Songs for the Celtic Diaspora

Letter from America - The Proclaimers
My National Pride - Dexys Midnight Runners
Sally MacLennane - The Pogues
Madame George - Van Morrison
Irish Blood, English Heart - Morrissey
The Parting Glass - The Clancy Brothers
Let's Get out of this Country - Camera Obscura
Shipping up to Boston - Dropkick Murphys
Fairytale of New York - The Pogues
Apple of my Eye- Damien Dempsey

The Celtic Diaspora, of course, encompasses a pretty large chunk of the population of the Western world, from Sydney to Ealing to Boston to New York. Letter from America is a particularly awesome song for the Scottish overseas, and I love the way it's what Declan sings drunk at a wedding at the start of 'The Commitments' which Jimmy says is 'something approximating music' - The Commitments, of course, is a film about soul music, and they sing and play American soul music, rather than the more limited genre of Celtic Soul, which has a line from Van Morrison to Dexys across to the Proclaimers ... and not that much else. Limited it may be, but if you are one of those strong devoted to Dexys Midnight Runners in particular, it is worth the effort.
Anyway, what's Bob Dylan got to do this, you've no doubt forgotten to ask? Well, as indicated above, the New York in my head was Bob Dylan's New York, of his early songs, of his Chronicles, of Martin Scorsese's No Direction Home, where, on cold, bleak(er) streets, he learnt his art in various dives, from folk/blues singers of various traditions, whether the Irish folk of The Clancy Brothers or the Blues/Protest songs of Odetta.
I went to a Bob Dylan tribute a few years back. It was a real fun event, and the stars of the show were without doubt the garrulous Liam Clancy, of whom Bob Dylan has said "I never heard a singer as good as Liam. He was just the best ballad singer I heard in my life' and the frail Odetta Holmes, of whom Bob Dylan said "the first thing that turned me on to folk singing was Odetta". Of all the music I have ever seen in my whole life, there has never been, and will never be, anything as moving as Odetta, shrunken and barely able to stand, holding the crowd utterly enthralled for the 10 minutes of her version of Mr.Tambourine Man with the strongest, boldest voice you ever heard. It was a real privilege.
Odetta died last year, a few weeks before Obama's inauguration, which she had hoped to perform at.
Anyway, the event (not her death, but the concert at the Barbican) prompted this reaction from me, called

LIAM & ODETTA (not unreasonably)

In the back room in the White Horse Tavern
One parting glass to toast days of the past
the fetid air filled with rebel songs, fervent
desires that the best days will forever last.

In your unfurnished flat off Harrowby Street,
we soaked up your folk songs from a world we didn't know
Tommy Makem, Liam Clancy, low, bold and sweet
children's songs, rebel songs, strong, proud and slow.

She had Odetta, you had Liam Clancy
but those were the days and they didn't last forever
though last night, my eyes saw the sweetest surprise
Odetta and Liam Clancy were back together.

She had Odetta, you had Liam Clancy
and I've got Bob Dylan at the centre of all
from strange fruit hanging to blowing in the wind
from the White Horse Tavern to the Barbican Hall.

These rebel songs, Paddy, they will not accept
the lot they've been given, beaten and bowed.
What's happened to us all, Dad, what happened to you?
Where's your rebel song now, where's my rebel song now?

A billion exile hearts keep on fighting
to find a solution, a direction home,
So where's the fight now, the will to escape
from the fate of the unmourned, incomplete unknown?

She knew enough and she loved Odetta
She knew enough to go where she needed
History's given a million clear warnings
but I ain't got the rebel heart to heed it.

Liam led us in Those Were The Days
but, fuck, I'm still young, it's not yet my time
to give up on the present and cry for the past
So I'll bid farewell and move on down the line

So, there we go, Bob Dylan at the centre of all, again. I think I include too many swear words. There's really no need for it.