The section of the Internets is for when you played a record by a “beat combo” in a romantic setting which resulted having the opposite effect with regard to smoochiness.
My terrible, terrible example was when I though some classical music would proffer the desired ambience – my choice for such an occasion was Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture
But NAY – I was unable to compete with the (should have been expected) cannons).
Reader I was SPENT long before their arrival.
Insert shame below.
Not quite so, er, close quarters, but my first date with the future Mrs F was to see Boo Hewerdine supporting Vic Chestnutt at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in the Southbank Centre. She ‘got it’ and I thought “She’s a keeper”.
Our second date was to see Stereolab at the Astoria. She absolutely hated it. I very nearly found myself single again. Even now, 25+ years later, I never play anything with a motorik beat or instrumental wig-out in her earshot.
Strangely, there’s no ‘t’ in the middle of “Chesnutt”.
There should be, shouldn’t there? After all, the word ‘chestnut’ has a nice t in the middle there. But Vic, for some reason, omitted the middle t.
The middle ‘t’ slipped a bit but managed to cling onto the end.
Oh bugger, I guessed but I should have checked.
Is Vic there?
He is, and getting right up everyone’s noses as usual
Well you see @foxnose, Tchaikovsky’s 5th was what you should have chosen.
DAMN!
Just to be. 100% clear on this – if the audience member was a man, there would be very few, if any, supporting messages on Twitter.
I took the late Mrs thep, a lifelong and committed vegetarian, to see A Private Function, starring M. Palin and Dame M Smith, for a birthday treat. It’s about eating a pig.
Similarly, I took the exotic, forin, Mrs F to see Al Murray, Pub Landlord. We left.
If we’re onto the subject of films and romantic dates, I took a date (and future fiancée who I didn’t marry in the end) to see Terminator 2 at some cinema in Manchester.
The bit where Arnie cuts open his arm to show all the machine parts came on and I heard next to me “I’m gonna be sick” and she ran out the cinema. We had only been out a couple of times and I was really quite smitten so it was quite a worry.
I followed quickly after and met her in the lobby. It was the curry we’d had earlier that set her off and not Arnie’s blood and guts moment
I might well have posted this story before by the way
That’s nearly as bad as the time when I took a young lady to see Hannibal at the local multiplex. I’m sure we were doing ok until the bit where the guy is frying his own brain when I went as white as a sheet and had to sit outside for a few minutes.
It was her choice, but Natural Born Killers turned out not to be ideal first date material. There wasn’t a second date.
I’ve just remembered that Carry on Camping was a lousy choice for a first date. She just wasn’t sophisticated enough.
You can never go wrong with Hejira.
😉
John Martyn’s suggestion on Live at Leeds was that Ravel’s Bolero was the ideal piece for making the two-backed beast, as it was designed “for nothing else but f*cking,”
My romantic faux pas (I may have mentioned this before) though it wasn’t my fault was at Cambridge Folk Festival deciding with my girlfriend that a late afternoon session would not go amiss we hastened back to the tent.
Accordingly back there we got down to some afternoon delight when someone outside decided that it was bagpipe playing time.
Passion killer.
Watching “Don’t Look Now” as my choice on date night perhaps not the best one when my then wife was the mother of a baby girl
Someone I knew maintained that his romantic music of choice was the theme to Hawaii 5-O.
I recall taking a would be back to my bijou, enticing her in with some prime folk-rock. Unbeknownst, my daughter was visiting, shouting out to “turn off that effing dirge, girls hate it!!!” Hmmm….
Weed , Pink Floyd Echoes and shagging.
Aaaah youth.
As long as you don’t put on Side 1 by mistake.
“One of these days you’re going to what?”
I knew a chap at university who swore by Sketches of Spain as top shagging music. Since he took my girlfriend off me he was probably right.
I would agree that Sketches of Spain could be top shagging music. My missy’s fell asleep at a Richard Thompson gig and vows that she doesn’t like him even though she missed the best bits.
Bloody women.
More so than Bitches Brew….
If I could find someone who liked On The Corner…
I played on the corner last year. Mrs. Paws lasted 58 seconds before demanding I turn it off. Haven’t dared to play it since.
An ex of mine put on Boys and Girls by Bryan Ferry and I would recommend it. Sensual and stays in the background. For Your Pleasure possibly not so wise: your skin is like vinyl, inflatable doll, I blew up your body but you blew my mind. I’m sorry but I must go, something came up, it’s rather urgent , some other time perhaps.
I always loved the choice of “Our song” in “Same Time Next Year” a film about an adulterous couple that meet for a rendevous once a year.
Their song was “If I Knew You Were Coming I’d Have Baked a Cake.”
Remember taking a young lady i fancied to see David Lynch’s Eraserhead
on the second of what proved to be our two dates
I took myself to see Eraserhead and refused to have anything to do with myself thereafter.
There was a blind date once, to see Richard Thompson in Guildford when he was touring Mock Tudor. I saw him three times on that tour.
It lasted until about 2/3 of the way through the support act, which was, in all honesty, bad. Kate Bush impression with the ‘quirky’ dialed up to 50, but none of the skill and art and…
My editorial comment on the support was not well received, and there was a frosty aura around us for the rest of the show.
Did you both dry your tears and move on as you walked the long miles home after the show?
Bravo.
No. I extended a hand of kindness and that was that.
“Import Export”
A grim world of exploitation and degradation set in geriatric wards, rundown apartments or an Internet sex parlour.
The film tells the twin stories of Olga, a young Ukrainian nurse who leaves her child behind to seek a better life in Austria and Paul, a feckless Austrian who loses his job as a security guard and goes in the opposite direction.
“Import Export”, shot in a flat, near-documentary style, is unrelenting in its portrayal of the casual cruelty and brutality meted out at the bottom rungs of society both to immigrant workers like Olga and Austrian misfits like Paul.
The film is praised for “capturing the crushing ugliness of life in the Eastern bloc”
Olga tries a spell as an Internet sex worker before despairing of impoverishment in the freezing cold and lowering grey skies of home to try her luck in Austria where she meets heartless contempt on all sides.
Paul, broke, out of work and rootless, joins his oafish father-in-law on a trip to deliver second hand slot machines to Ukraine where they drink heavily and have a shocking encounter with a young local girl in a squalid hotel room.
The film features many non-actors in sexual scenes or episodes set in wards of incontinent and dying geriatric patients.
There are moments of bitter comedy and some glimmers of warmth in the film but it ends on an appropriately sombre note as one of the dying women in the ward where Olga works as a cleaner groans “Dead, dead, dead” as the image fades out.
I went to see this film on a Saturday night date with someone I thought I might have a chance with. It didn’t work out. Can’t think why not
It wasn’t on a double-header with Vera Drake by any chance?
If so, was import export on before or after vera?
Back when most of us lads thought an “accidental” touch of a girls breast was the height of sexual pleasure, Bruce Gardiner was having it away every weekend with a dazzling array of beautiful girls. “What’s your secret, Bruce?” I said.
He replied “Always have Frank Sinatra’s”In the Wee Small Hours” ready. “Works every time”.
Not for me, it didn’t. After raiding Mum’s record collection all I got from Delectable Annie was “That’s Old People’s Music. I need to go and get the last bus. See ya “
What a put down. I suspect that in 2023 you could find Delectable Annie at Mogwai concerts.
Why didn’t you try a little Arab Strap?
Is that a Scandinavian sexual thing KFD?
The only boy with an arab strap I know hails from Glasgow.
According to wiki, Stuart Murdoch, had no idea he was singing about an erection enabler when he wrote this song based on his experience of touring with idan Moffat and Arab Strap. Not sure i believe that!
Air at the Hammerstein Ballroom in NYC. I simply had to see them live and this was my only chance (living in Connecticut at the time). She didn’t get it at all really. We did stay together for a while after that but it fizzled out.
@dkhbrit
Sounds like more of a slow puncture to me
In my more amorous youth, I was lucky enough to get it on with a lady of considerable charm and chest. Just before the mattress tango, however, she put I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers on the stereo.
Let’s just say that a pair of heavily-inflected, speccy Dunediners shouting ‘Da da da (da da da)’ can really put a chap off his stride.
Could have been worse. Imagine trying to keep the lead in the pencil with “Bathgate no moah, Linwood no moah” coming out of the speakers.
Mentioned this before, but it’s a doozy. I managed to tempt a girl back to mine in my student days, and thought the Blade Runner OST would suit the mood. Indeed it did, and soon we were under the covers.
Unfortunately, I had one of those twin tape decks that, when one tape ends, automatically kicks the other one into gear, wherever it may be. The other tape was Big Star’s Columbia Live in ‘92, and the song we jumped into was a cover of Todd Rundgren’s Slut. To be precise, the chorus, which goes (if you didn’t know) ‘S! L! U! T! – She may be a slut, but she looks good to me!)
Rest of the evening didn’t go as well.
First date film with my now wife of many years – Leaving Las Vegas. I thought from the clip I’d seen it would be a black comedy, with an emphasis on the comedy. We saw the funny side eventually.