Fountains of Wayne’s catalogue is a masterpiece in chronicling the wistful everyday – from Mcjobs and shopping malls to house parties while the parents are away. But on this track they surely drill down to another level..is it the most inconsequential song every released? They’re in a cafe and want a coffee. They can’t get the waitress to come over for a long time. Then she does. Possibly she’s been on the phone. That is it. No meet-cutes or loathing, just an air of resigned annoyance. Three minutes 37 seconds. So, while we love songs about revolutions, flaming car crashes, teen crushes and murder-suicides there’s got to be a place for the trivial. Your entries for the most inconsequential song ever please.
O! For A Muse of Fire…actually I’ve found some pocketlint, that’ll do.
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Ah, a Dull thread. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this one. I no longer drink, but when I did, this was the story of my evening out:
Excellent. He’s at the bar. He’d like a drink. He can’t get served. The end.
Everyone is trying to get to the bar
The name of the bar, the bar is called Heaven
The band in Heaven, they play my favorite song
They play it once again, they play it all night long
Nowt more than a list of mundane annoyances:
Similarly, “There is nothing better in life than writing on the sole of your slipper with a biro”
Although he does go for a walk to his uncle’s house, and to a party, before getting bored, going home and going to bed. Which sounds exhausting.
How about a list of things that have been lost over the years:
Lost Property – The Divine Comedy
Fountains of Wayne were never better than on Fire Island.
Following the subject of the post I guess Nothing ever happens would take some beating.
Oh no @SteveT paging @dave-amitri – though nothing ever happens is the writer’s perspective, so much happens out in the world. Secretaries turn off typewriters, batchelors phone up their friends….that’s just a bit of the first verse. Breathless stuff.
Boomtown Rats – Nothing Happened Today
(the most exciting part is someone down the road getting a new toupee)
From Halley’s Waitress to Tom’s Diner perhaps.
Yes! The poetry of inconsequentiality. Particularly the verse about the woman looking at her, no looking at her own reflection, and while she’s hitching up her skirt and straightening her stockings her hair has gotten wet. More on that breaking story later on News at Ten.
I like it when the answer is the *FoW but I think the answer should always be Sparks.
In this case Lawnmower:
I’d never heard the term Halley’s Waitress before Interstate Managers came out. Did they coin the (brilliant) phrase?
No really, Nothing happened today….
She runs for the bus. Other than that a pretty uneventful day.
And if Bacharach and David don’t appeal, there’s always John Shuttleworth.
see also … Two margarines on the go it’s a nightmare scenario
Well, if we were just listening to the lyrics and not reading between the lines…
This lack of lyrical inertia came to mind recently when I was listening to Aussie 90s power pop classic That Ain’t Bad by Ratcat.
Verse I: Everyone told me I shouldn’t hang around with you.
Verse 2: Ramped up slightly. Now I shouldn’t even talk to you.
Verse 3: Yep, they’re still advising strongly against entering into any sort of personal relationship with you.
Lyrics
They told me that you were a really bad news.
They said you were no good for me.
They told me you were a bad bad person.
But you seem alright to me.
I love you, yeah & I love you.
Yeah & I love you.
Yeah & I love you.
They told me you hung around with
All the wrong people.
They said you were no good for me.
They said I should not even talk to you.
Oh now you seem alright to me.
I love you, yeah & I love you.
Yeah & I love you.
Yeah & I love you.
They told me that you lied.
They said that you would do something bad to me.
But I can’t seem to see that side.
Oh When, when your holding on to me.
I love you, yeah & I love you.
Yeah and I love you.
Yeah and I love you.
And That ain’t bad
And That ain’t bad
And That ain’t bad…
Not prize-winningly mundane but…
Definitely not. Trip to Muswell hill, getting stopped by the police…it’s like an episode of Eastenders.
How about a song about a deathly dull place? It was never released, so it isn’t available to hear online, but here are the lyrics to The Morning People’s song, ‘Bar Hill’.
For a bit of context, Bar Hill is on the outskirts of Cambridge, one of those out-of-town post-war housing estates with a medium-sized light industrial estate and a massive supermarket. The kind of place you go to get your car tyres changed, or to collect a parcel, or (as in the case of my pal Sam the songwriter and me) to go to work in a 1960s-built office.
The kind of place where the best thing about it is… leaving at the end of the day.
Purposefully built, and backed to the hilt by business
Carefully planned with adequate transport links
A versatile range of modern and spacious units
And some serious names are choosing to relocate
Well, did you ever visit somewhere that made you feel ill?
Oooh-ooh-ooh Bar Hill
Affordable homes and safe quiet roads for children
It’s life in a village with modern facilities
Carefully planned, attractively landscaped gardens
And once you’ve arrived you know you’ve arrived
And you may never wish to leave
Well, did you ever visit somewhere that made you feel ill?
Oooh-ooh-ooh Bar Hill
These things are too important to leave to chance
This place was built to last
Deceptively rural, a swiftly maturing golf course
A modern hotel with an old fashioned welcome home
The biggest and best selection of Tesco’s finest
And plenty of parks and places to park
Oh there’s plenty of places to park alright
Well, did you ever visit somewhere that made you feel ill?
Oooh-ooh-ooh Bar Hill
Just another day.
Here are the lyrics to a song about an extremely dull little town in Tennessee.
A church house, gin house
A school house, outhouse
On Highway Number Nineteen
The people keep the city clean
They call it Nutbush
Oh, Nutbush
Call it Nutbush city limits
Twenty-five was the speed limit
Motorcycle not allowed in it
You go t’the store on Fridays
You go to church on Sundays
They call it Nutbush, little old town
Oh, Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits
You go t’the field on week days
And have a picnic on Labor Day
You go to town on Saturdays
But go to church ev’ry Sunday
They call it Nutbush
Oh, Nutbush
They call it Nutbush city limits
Pretty mundane stuff. But add Hurricane Tina and things get very exciting. That woman could read the telephone directory and make it sound inviting.
There’s a dream team for you! Tina Turner sings the John Shuttleworth Songbook.
Then again, John S singing The Best, What’s love got to do with it and Steamy windows might also have hit potential.