A rather perky lad sits proudly on his masters new late 30’s Triumph 5H.
It reminded me of Nipper peering expectantly into a gramophone speaker horn listening for His Masters Voice.
Even today the graphic is recognizable for the British music industry – although a bumpy industry of late.
I like this Gromit version….
Scott McKenzie’s counterculture anthem of the late sixties gave young folks to heed Tim Leary’s phrase “turn on, tune in, and drop out” and head west… Well the cool were already there! Here’s Steve above the Bay on a splendid Triumph in a pose that makes me want to saddle up, kick over, and ride out to the west…
“We twa hae run about the braes,
and pu’d the gowans fine ;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin auld lang syne.”
Robert Burns
Photo by BA Motos with story behind photo here:
http://thebullitt.blogspot.com/2012/09/ride-your-own-biography-ba-moto-on.html?m=1
Santa whizzes around the globe on a red red Triumph. He smokes too…
Oh come all ye Faithful, Joyful and Triumphant!
The speculators made their money on the blood you shed
Your momma’s pulled the sheets up off your bed
Profiteers on James Street sold your shoes and clothes
Ain’t nobody talkin’ because everybody knows
We pulled your cycle up back the garage and polished up the chrome
Our gypsy biker coming home
Sister Mary sits with your colors, but Johnny’s drunk and gone
This old town’s been rousted, which side you on?
They would march up over the hill, this old fools parade
Shouting victory for the righteous for you must hear the grace
Ain’t nobody talkin’, but just waiting on the phone
Gypsy biker coming home
Whoa!
We rode into the foothills, Bobby brought the gasoline
We stood around the circle as she lit up the ravine
The spring hot desert wind rushed down on us all the way back home
To the dead, well it don’t matter much ’bout who’s wrong or right
You asked me that question, I didn’t get it right
You slipped into your darkness, now all that remains
Is my love for you brother, life’s still unchanged
To him that threw you away, you ain’t nothing but gone
My gypsy biker’s coming home
And now I’m out countin’ white lines
Countin’ white lines and getting stoned
My gypsy biker’s coming home
Whoa!
The Boss
” There are things known
and there are things unknown
and in between are the doors.”
Jim Morrison 1943-1971
The Lizard King would have been 70 today; His poetical lyrics from the late sixties gave voice to a generation of disillusioned youth.
However a downward spiral of booze and drugs ended in a small apartment down by the Seine.
He did own a motorcycle though: a CL77 305cc Honda Scrambler.
It was appropriately painted amphibian green with Californian pin striping like some Con Dutch special.
The Scrambler model really is a nice looking moto still today. The high pipes give it an urban adventurer appearance.
Half a Century ago today two shots rang out from a building across an open space in Dallas towards the presidential motorcade. They hit their target and history’s path was realigned drastically. Jack, the King and his Queen Jackie were taking America into a new and inspired future. Adventures of a growing democratic superpower. The sky had no limit.
…but Oswald put paid to that destiny. Even though the open top Lincoln was surrounded by Secret Service and a Harley riding escort the commanding view gained from the sixth floor aerie in the Texas Book Depository opened a huge chink in that armor and the crosshairs won.
The motorcycles were typically American: Harley Davidson.
The motos were 1963 FL Duo Glide police models. (Duo Glide means it had BOTH front AND rear suspension). As we know conspiracy theories abound; but I think Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone and wanted to be a piece of history. An interesting alternate history novel could be written where Kennedy wasn’t shot, and a decades long strong America under Jack, Bobby, and later son John ran the show…
The Peter Gabriel song Family Snapshot tells of would be assassin Arthur Bremer and his attempted shooting of presidential candidate George Wallace in 1972; though its lyrics reflect events in Dallas a decade earlier.
…They’re coming ’round the corner with the bikers at the front
I’m wiping the sweat from my eyes
-It’s a matter of time
-It’s a matter of will
And the governor’s car is not far behind
He’s not the one I’ve got in mind
‘Cos there he is-the man of the hour, standing in the limousine
“I don’t really hate you
-I don’t care what you do
We were made for each other
-Me and you
I want to be somebody
-You were like that too
If you don’t get given you learn to take
And I will take you.”
Holding my breath
Release the catch
And I let the bullet fly…
In honor of Lou Reed here’s an image evoking one of his monologue songs from the Velvet Undergrounds pre-punk White Light\White Heat album. It is read in a stirring welsh lilt by John Cale and tells the story of one Waldo Jeffers whose long distance infatuation with a college girl from Wisconsin, Marsha Bronson, drives him to box himself up and get mailed from Locust PA to her doorstep as a surprise… Needless to say it doesn’t end well when Marsha’s friend Sheila attempts to pry the nailed box open with some sharp metal shears… The rhythmic bass heavy backing track is called Booker T.
The crates contents here is a BSA Spitfire. The 2 gallon two-tone tank denotes a US destined model of this GP carbureted 650 a ton and a quarter capable speed demon.
…. grasped the cutter by both handles, took a deep breath, and plunged the long blade through the middle of the package, through the masking tape, through the cardboard, through the cushioning and (thud) right through the center of Waldo Jeffers head, which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun….
Lou Reed 1942-2013. A true music legend passed yesterday; his music grabbed you by the throat and hammered its beat into you with piercing lyrics that had heft to them. Early work from Andy Warhols Factory with The Velvet Underground was seminal to any budding HiFi owners collection.
Backed by the indomitable John Cale, Sterling Morrison, & Mo Tucker, as well as the sultry backing vocals of Nico; their music puts the Vee in Live. Reed as a solo artist: the poet-musician with knife-edge lyrics went on to create timeless numbers which saw rerelease success two decades on. I was fortunate to see TVU in their original line-up at an unmuddy Glastonbury in ’93.
“New Sensations”, Lou Reed 1984
I took my GPZ out for a ride
The engine felt good between my thighs
The air felt cool, its was 40 degrees outside
I rode to Pennsylvania near the Delaware gap
Sometimes I got lost and had to check the map
I stopped at a roadside diner for a burger and a coke
There were some country folk and some hunters inside
Somebody got themselves married and somebody died
I went to the juke box and played a hillbilly song
They was arguing about football as I waved and went outside
And I headed for the mountains feeling warm inside
I love that GPZ so much, you know that I could kiss her.
——————
Must be the original Ninja GPZ900. Here’s mine that I owned in the mid-twothousands…
I took an opportunity with decent weather and a visit to friends a short ride down Lake Shore Drive to encourage my better half to ride pillion. A couple of sweet spots headin’ down “from Hollywood with water on the drivin’ side…”
Acknowledgments to Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah
Sixties duo of the moment Sonny & Cher were the darlings of love; a clean cut reaction and sober reaction to the acid dazed counterculture. TV acting a politics ensued but that’s another story not to be covered here…. However Mr Bono likes to look cool, especially when not wearing his sheepskin vest… .. Go on kick ‘er over lad!
Watch out for any trees Sonny!
There are some people come and go with out so much as a blip on the public conscious; but their impact is felt way beyond their reach. One such character is Gram Parsons (born Cecil Ingram Connor III). Musician who influenced the “cross pollination” of two very different music genres: country and rock. He rolled in as the lead singer and guitarist of The Byrd’s in the late sixties just as the youth were learning to tune in and drop out. And, of course, motorcycles allowed the freedom of escape; Triumph being at the fore! Mick Jagger and Keith Richards saw his genius and used his melding of country rock to progress their music from their emergent sixties sound to a more mature tune of the seventies.
“Look at him here, he’s wearing a cape! And a Triumph motorcycle T-shirt, smoking pot through a mug, and wearing my mother’s promise ring.” Polly Parsons (daughter)
Photography by Andee Nathanson
Gram went a little too far in ’73 however overdosing on morphine and alcohol in a room at the Joshua Tree Motel CA at the young age of 26.
It was the blackest night
There was no moon in sight
You know the stars ain’t shinin’
’cause the sky’s too tight
I heard the scarey wind
I seen some ugly trees
There was a werewolf honkin’
‘long the side of me
I’m mean ‘n I’m bad, y’know I ain’t no sissy
Got a big-titty girly by the name of chrissy
Talkin’ about her ‘n my bike ‘n me…
‘n this ride up the mountain of mystery, mystery
I noticed even the crickets
Was actin’ weird up here
And so I figured I might
Just drink a little beer
I said, “gimme summa that what yer suckin’ on…”
But there was no reply
’cause she was gone…
“where’s those titties that I like so well
‘n my goddamn beer!”
Is what I started to yell, then I heard this noise
Like a crunchin’ twig, ‘n up jumped the devil…he’s about this big…
He had a red suit on
An’ a widow’s peak
An’ then a pointed tail
‘n like a sulphur reek
Yes, it was him awright
I sweared I knowed it was
He had some human flesh
Stuck underneath his claws
You know it looked to me
Like it was titty skin
I said, “you sonofabitch!”
’cause I was mad at him,
Well he just got out his floss
‘n started cleanin’ his fang
So I shot him with my shooter
Said: bang bang bang
Then the sucker just laughed ‘n said, “put it away…
You know, I ate her all up…now what you
Gonna say? ”
You ate my chrissy? “titties ‘n all!”
Well, what about the beer then, boy? “were the cans
This tall? ”
Even her boots? “would I lie to you? ”
Shit, you musta been hungry! “yes, this is true.”
Well don’t they pay you good for the
Stuff that you do?
“well, you know, I can’t complain when the checks come through…”
Well I want my chrissy, ‘n I want my beer
So you just barf it back up now, devil,
Do you hear?
“blow it out your ass, motorcycle man! I mean, I am the devil,
Do you understand? just what will you give me
For your
Titties and beer? I suppose you noticed this little
Contract here…” yer goddam right, you son-of-a-whore,
“don’t call me that”
That’s about the only reason
…gimme that paper…bet yer ass I’ll sign…
’cause I need a beer, ‘n it’s titty-squeezin’ time
“man, you can’t fool me…you ain’t that bad…
I mean you shoulda seen some of the souls I had…
Why there was milhous nixon ‘n agnew, too…
‘n both of those suckers was worse ‘n you…”
Well, let’s make a deal if you think that’s true
I mean, you’re the devil, so whatcha gonna do?
(improvised dialog)
“wait a minute…a tinge of doubt crosses my mind…when you say…
That you want to make a deal with me…”
“that’s very, very true
I’m only interested in two things
“yeah? ”
See if you can guess what they are”
“i would think…uh…let’s see, maybe stravinsky…”
“i’ll give you two clues. let go of your pickle”
“what? ”
“let go of your pickle!”
“i’m not holding my pickle”
“well, who’s holding your pickle then? ”
“i don’t know…she’s out in the audience…
Hey dale, would you like to come up here and hold
My pickle to satisfy this weird man out on the stage? ”
“i’m only interested in two things, and that’s
Titties and beer
You know what I mean?
“what? ”
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer
Titties and beer!”
Titties and beer!”
“i don’t know if you’re the right guy? ”
Titties and beer!”
Titties and beer!”
“no! don’t sign it! give me time to think…
I mean hold on a second boy, ’cause that’s magic ink!”
And then the devil let go of his pickle
And out come my girl, there was her titties
Flop-floppin’…all around the world
She said “i got me three beers and a fistful of downs
And I’m gonna get ripped, so fuck, you clowns!”
Then she gave us the finger, it was rigid and stiff
That’s when the devil, he farted
And she went right over the cliff!
The devil was mad, I took off to my pad
I swear I do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear I do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear I do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear I do declare, how did she get back there?
I swear I do declare, how did she get back there?
This is a big music weekend coming up in the Windy City. Lollapalooza the annual shindig for contemporary tastes. One of the headliners on Saturday will be the lads from blighty Mumford & Sons, English country folk balladeers. Just so happens they’re Triumph riders, here front man Marcus Mumford with his T100 in London.
Nice jacket son! He even spins around a city on it in one of their videos “Whispers in the Dark”
He was spied at the local Triumph dealer Motoworks earlier today ogling the bikes. Their Facebook page captures the moment.
Heavy Metal IS the music of a motorcycle on the motorway: heavy drums, power chords and wailing lyrics. Biff Byford’s Saxon was a venue filling group of the early eighties. On their album Wheels of Steel their first track starts up with the rumble of revving motorcycles….
Motorcycle Man
[Byford/Quinn/Oliver/Dawson/Gill]
If you see me flashing by
Do not stop me, do not try
‘Cause I’m a motorcycle man
I get my kicks just when I can
Motorcycle man
Motorcycle man
I can beat your street machine
We’re taking risks, that’s what we mean
‘Cause I’m a motorcycle man
We get our kicks just when we can
When we can
Motorcycle man
Motorcycle…
If you see me riding by
Do not stop me, do not try
‘Cause I’m a motorcycle man
I get my kicks just when I can
When I can
Motorcycle man
Motorcycle man
Motorcycle, motorcycle
Motorcycle man
I can beat your street machine
I’m taking risks, that’s what I mean
‘Cause I’m a motorcycle man
We get our kicks just when we can
When we can
Motorcycle man
Motorcycle man
Motorcycle, motorcycle
Motorcycle man
Head bangin’ glory! \m/
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