I’m sure you may also have a secret wish to be something or someone else. I’ve said, on the odd occasion, that I’m quite happy with who I am. I would, however not mind to have lived in a different era. Or, for that matter, do something completely different, somewhere on the planet where the weather is kinder and life is slow. My kind of pace.
I’ve also said that I’m not cut out to be a rat-racer. Even so, I do enjoy the challenges of the daily grind. Well. The technical challenges and the making of new friends. Office politics and the associated corporate crawling give me the sh*tes… to put it mildly! I have never got to grips with the concept of aspiring to reach the top in an environment fit only for dedicated workaholics or folk who have no lives outside of the workplace… WHY? What’s it all about?
Why the desire to outdo your fellow man? Why the need to reach that often unattainable, unsustainable height by riding rough over your next door neighbour? Why the backstabbing? And for what? How fulfilling can it be to go off to some seat of learning for a 3rd level qualification to then spend the rest of your sorry existence chasing your boss’s job?
Don’t get me wrong, according to those who know me… I’m not a lazy, incompetent, underperforming under-achiever. I have a simple life’s philosophy, if I can’t do something to the best of my ability I don’t bother to do it at all… yep, I’m proud of what I do, in work and in life.
After all that waffle… what’s the point of this post? Ambition to reach the top versus creativity? I often wonder if it’s vanity on my part to wish to leave something more than a few bob for my wife and kids… a legacy… maybe even a desire instilled in my kids to continue my outlook on life… that intangible yearning to live life on all levels… not only for the sake of financial reward.
Well then, what relevance does the title have? The 3 Bob’s? Who are they and what influence do they have on us? Why the fuss? Back to the idea of doing something else… being somewhere else. I soon learned in life that music was a fantastic, essential part of man’s everyday existence. My mother’s attempts to get me to learn the piano were futile… I eventually told her to stop wasting her money.
The lessons were going nowhere… I’m one of those who when asked if I play an instrument reply with the standard ’Yes… the radio!’ I love music… I grew up just too late to be a hippy… my formative years were the seventies. We had the Floyd, who else did we need? Well, Supertramp… The Who, Clapton, the Thin White Duke… Led Zep… Nazareth, the Eagles… Deep Purple, Bad Company… Uriah Heap… Black Sabbath… and then some of the throwbacks from the sixties to boot… George Harrison… Ringo, no… I wasn’t the world’s biggest Beatles fan… love me do… or not?
Frank Zappa, Billy the Mountain… ELO, it’s a living thing… roll over Beethoven. Chicago… all the lads with the very long hair and bare chests… tight pants. Peter Frampton. Only the occasional glimpse of sexy backing singer to be seen… decoration, nothing much more. Sigh, where are they now? Thin Lizzy…
Joan Bias… Judy Collins… Peter Gabriel… Genesis… Iggy Pop… many, many more… too many to list, but you get the picture. I wanted to play music… all the rock and folk I could lay my hands on. Resources were limited then… but we fond ways. The Stones, Hot Rocks… do you remember? J-Tull… Ian with the eyes… smoking it up?? Them seventies… the rock was good, the parties merry.
Davy’s on the road again… wearing different clothes again. Wow… Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, how about a bit of that now? The Strawbs… Dave Clarke Five, where will it end? ARS… bet you don’t remember them? XTC… filling the stadiums became the norm… the parties were good… the rock even better.
Those were the days when the Green Peter of the Mac… or Sir Elton still rocked the Yellow Brick Road. Rod the Bod filled the arena’s… Tina swam that River Deep… climbed that Mountain High. Life in that lane… we were young… we wished you were here… even when the bat out of hell was rocking the fires of those late night beach BBQ’s… onto the sunrise we partied. The new kids on the block shot the socks off the old rockers… Mark and the boys sure got the sultans swinging.
Freddy revved up the night… even as the seventies started wearing themselves thin, or out… the dream remained. Ever in the background were the 3 Bob’s. Play that music white boy, play that music. Brian Ferry… the Kinks… so, so may names. S&G… CSN&Y… they all rocked the nation. Filled our days and nights with the cool sounds of love and life!
Steve Winwood… Pete Townsend, Ginger Baker, Blind Faith… Procol Harem… who? Why, when, where, what? Jimmy Hendrix… I give up… too many to mention. Yet, the 3 Bob’s lurked!
OK… before you get too miffed I’ll tell you about the 3 Bob’s. By now you have surely guessed correctly… they are Messrs Marley, Seeger and Dylan. What’s so special about these 3 lads? Why a post named in their honour? Why not? They should each have many posts named after them… I’m convinced they do. Many millions of words spent screaming their praise! Yes, they deserve every word written, even the odd bit of criticism.
So, why should I want to add more cyber clutter. What’s new? Nothing… maybe? Who knows… I started this post asking all sorts of questions about all sort of things. Life, that’s what it’s called.
I have this dream… my own late night rock show… my very own few hours ever Friday night. Or, if I’m really lucky, why not every week night? Then I could live my dream… I’ll have my very own special once a week. The 3 Bob’s.
Here’s how that first edition may go… in no particular order,
Against the Wind
The Times they are a Changing… or could that be… I Want You
Trench Town Rock…
OK… you get the drift… the 3 Bob’s… maybe that first Friday night show will be dedicated in it’s entirety to the 3 lads… why? Because then I’ll have arrived! In my mind, that is!
PS – Since starting this post and getting the vinyl out to pose for the photos I’ve realised how many names have not made it into the post… oh well, I’ll have to do something else then… the 4 Bob’s? Geldof as well? Naaah… never really been a fan…