Audiogrammes

Radio Liban 96.2FM

Posts Tagged ‘Elvis Presley

Audiogramme du mardi 1er Mars 2016

leave a comment »

1. Irène de Trébert – Au Quatrième Top
2. Blossom Dearie – Plus Je T’embrasse
3. Henri Salvador – Maladie d’Amour
4. Dario Moreno – Quand Elle Danse (Me Voy P’al Pueblo)
5. The Dinning Sisters – Brazil
6. Babs Gonzales – Oop-Pop-A-Da
7. The Robins – Riot In Cell Block ≠9
8. Little Willie John – Fever
9. Tommy Ridgley – Boogie Woogie Mama
10. Jewel King – 3×7=21
11. Dizzy Gillespie & Chano Pozo – Manteca
12. Smiley Lewis – Lillie Mae
13. Louis Armstrong, Louis Jordan – (I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead) You Rascal You
14. Hank Williams and The Drifting Cowboys – My Bucket’s Got A Hole In It
15. Odetta – John Henry
16. King Pleasure – I’m in The Mood for Love
17. Boysie Grant with Eddie Brown and Reinolds’ Calypso Clippers – Solas Market
18. Dinah Washington – Perdido
19. Harold Richardson and The Ticklers – Glamour Gal
20. Johnny Cash – I Walk The Line
21. Elvis Presley – Blue Moon

BONUS:

Advertisements

Audiogramme du vendredi 29 Janvier 2016

leave a comment »

1. John Lunn – End of an Era
2. Phil Doleman – I Wanna Be Like You (Jungle Book)
3. The Living Sisters – Double Knots
4. The Easybeats – Good Times
5. Strangeloves – I Want Candy
6. Elvis Presley – Black Star
7. Modeselektor – The White Flash (Feat. Thom Yorke)
8. Pallers – The Kiss
9. Wild Nothing – Life Of Pause
10. General Elektriks – Angle Boogie
11. Her – Five Minutes
12. The Noisettes – Never Forget You
13. Dawn Landes And Piers Faccini – I Hear a Calling
14. Bombino – Inar
15. O. Children – Dead Disco Dancer
16. M. Ward – Confession
17. Paula Cole – Feelin’ Love (Psychemagik Reem Mix)

BONUS:

Audiogramme du Vendredi 16 Octobre 2015

leave a comment »

1. Bert Kaempfert – A Swinging Safari
2. The Chordettes – Lollipop
3. The Fourmost – Hello Little Girl
4. Elvis Presley – Heartbreak Hotel
5. Aretha Franklin – Respect
6. Wilson Pickett – Mustang Sally
7. Percy Sledge – When A Man Loves A Woman
8. Nico – The Fairest of the Seasons
9. Grateful Dead – Uncle John’s Band
10. Rainbow – Since You Been Gone
11. Bachman-Turner Overdrive – Hold Back the Water
12. Red Hot Chili Peppers – Higher Ground
13. Red Hot Chili Peppers – Pea
14. Lou Doillon – Weekender Baby
15. Nico – These Days
16. Wilson Phillips – Hold On
17. Broken Bells – October
18. Spandau Ballet – True

Pause de l’après-midi du mercredi 11 février 2015 / Reprises en I

leave a comment »

alunageorge-dj-snake

1. Richard Cheese – Imagine (John Lennon)
2. El Vez – It’s Now Or Never (Elvis Presley)
3. Curt Boettcher – Iko Iko
4. The Connells – Insane in the Brain (Cypress Hill)
5. Butch Walker & the Black Widows – In Bloom (Nirvana)
6. Alunageorge – I Wanna Be Like You (Jungle Book)
7. Jimmy McGriff – I’ve Got A Woman (Ray Charles)
8. Mark Ronson – Inversion

Download the full show / Télecharger l’émission: Link / Lien

Listen

Pause de l’après-midi du mardi 10 février 2015 / Reprises en H

leave a comment »

Print

1. Of Montreal – Harvest Moon (Neil Young Cover)
2. Tracy Chapman – House Of The Rising Sun
3. Bandista – Hoşçakal (Bella Ciao)
4. Patti Drew – Hard To Handle (Otis Redding)
5. The Rosewood Thieves – Home In Your Heart (Solomon Burke)
6. Betty Everett – Hound Dog (Elvis Presley)
7. Ginger Ale – Happy House (Siouxsie & the Banshees)
8. Ramsey Lewis Trio – A Hard Day’s Night (The Beatles)

Download the full show / Télecharger l’émission: Link / Lien

Listen

Always on my mind

leave a comment »

1002112_10151893976073296_1841319098_n

Whoever said Pet Shop Boys were “The Smiths you can dance to” definitely had a point: Melancholy, witty lyrics and pounding beats… Some will say you can dance to Morrissey’s darkest lyrics. I remember joyfully singing along to this one

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure – the privilege is mine

Anyway, so PSB were in Byblos this weekend and offered us one of the best concerts in the festival’s history. The highlight of the show which was also my own personal emotional low was Always on My Mind

Maybe I didn’t treat you
Quite as good as I should have
Maybe I didn’t love you
Quite as often as I could have
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died
Give me, give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied, satisfied

Maybe I didn’t hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
Im so happy that you’re mine
If I make you feel second best
Girl, Im sorry I was blind

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died
Give me, give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied, satisfied

Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You are always on my mind
You are always on my mind

Amazing how this song’s riff makes you dance and how it just made me tear up…

Anyway, it’s a country classic first sung by Brenda Lee

Willie Nelson covered it

So did Elvis

And talking about the King, last night around midnight I stumbled upon this gem

Maybe it’s too late I sometimes I even hate myself
For loving you
Trying to be strong then night-time comes along and I start wanting you
Wanting you.
Where is all my self control I’m burning way down in my soul
And needing you

Wishing I could be the man, I try to
Hating me for wanting you to be with you
Knowing you don’t love me like you used to
But it’s midnight, Oh and I miss you

It’s getting late and I know that’s when I am weak
Funny how things have a way of looking so much brighter in the day light
I ought to go to bed and try to straighten out my head and just forget you
Oh but it’s midnight, yeah and I miss you

It’s getting late and I know that’s when I am weak
Funny how things have a way of looking so much brighter in the day light
I ought to go to bed to try to straighten out my head and just forget you
Oh but it’s midnight and I miss you

It’s midnight and I miss you

I remembered my father’s words:
نفس تسكن إليها
in the sense of
ما سكنت إليه النفس ، واطمأن إليه القلب ، والإثم ما لم تسكن إليه النفس ولم يطمئن إليه القلب وإن أفتاك المفتون

And this morning I woke up to this cover of Fade Into You, which definitely is not a love song… Emotional turmoil, teenage years, 20 years ago, Knocking on Heaven’s door knock off, haunting

I want to hold the hand inside you
I want to take a breath that’s true
I look to you and I see nothing
I look to you to see the truth
You live your life
You go in shadows
You’ll come apart and you’ll go black
Some kind of night into your darkness
Colors your eyes with what’s not there.

Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you
I think it’s strange you never knew

A stranger’s light comes on slowly
A stranger’s heart without a home
You put your hands into your head
And then it’s smiles cover your heart

Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you

I think it’s strange you never knew
X2

I think it’s strange you never knew

That’s it for today, the time and date for our next session has not been determined yet…

Written by audiogrammes

July 16, 2013 at 09:36

Return to Sender

leave a comment »

Return-To-Sender

I gave a letter to the postman,
he put it his sack.
Bright in early next morning,
he brought my letter back.

She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.
We had a quarrel, a lover’s spat
I write I’m sorry but my letter keeps coming back.

So then I dropped it in the mailbox
And sent it special D.
Bright in early next morning
it came right back to me.

She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.

This time I’m gonna take it myself
and put it right in her hand.
And if it comes back the very next day
then I’ll understand the writing on it

Return to sender, address unknown.
No such person, no such zone.

So it’s just an excuse to put a few postman songs… should I just put 2, since he always rings twice?

Anyway, I can’t but post this one.

(Stop)
Oh yes, wait a minute Mister Postman
(Wait)
Wait Mister Postman
Please Mister Postman, look and see
(Oh yeah)
If there’s a letter in your bag for me
(Please, Please Mister Postman)
Why’s it takin’ such a long time
(Oh yeah)
For me to hear from that boy of mine
There must be some word today
From my boyfriend so far away
Pleas Mister Postman, look and see
If there’s a letter, a letter for me
I’ve been standin’ here waitin’ Mister Postman
So patiently
For just a card, or just a letter
Sayin’ he’s returnin’ home to me
(Mister Postman)
Mister Postman, look and see
(Oh yeah)
If there’s a letter in your bag for me
(Please, Please Mister Postman)
Why’s it takin’ such a long time
(Oh yeah)
For me to hear from that boy of mine
So many days you passed me by
See the tears standin’ in my eyes
You didn’t stop to make me feel better
By leavin’ me a card or a letter
(Mister Postman)
Mister Postman, look and see
(Oh yeah)
If there’s a letter in your bag for me
(Please, Please Mister Postman)
Why’s it takin’ such a long time
(Why don’t you check it and see one more time for me, you gotta)
Wait a minute
Wait a minute
Wait a minute
Wait a minute
(Mister Postman)
Mister Postman, look and see
(C’mon deliver the letter, the sooner the better)
Mister Postman

And here’s the Beatles version

So, to round it up here’s The Letter by The Box Tops

Gimme a ticket for an aeroplane
I ain’t got time to take a fast train
Lonely days are gone, I’m a-goin’ home
‘Cause my baby just wrote me a letter

I don’t care how much money I gotta spend
Got to get back to my baby again
Lonely days are gone, I’m a-goin’ home
‘Cause my baby just wrote me a letter

Well, she wrote me a letter
Said she couldn’t live without me no more
Listen, mister, can’t you see I got to get back
To my baby once more?

Anyway, yeah gimme a ticket for an aeroplane
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-letter-lyrics-the-box-tops.html ]
I ain’t got time to take a fast train
Lonely days are gone, I’m a-goin’ home
‘Cause my baby just wrote me a letter

Well, she wrote me a letter
Said she couldn’t live without me no more
Listen, mister, can’t you see I got to get back
To my baby once more?

Anyway, yeah gimme a ticket for an aeroplane
I ain’t got time to take a fast train
Lonely days are gone, I’m a-goin’ home
‘Cause my baby just wrote me a letter
Because my baby just wrote me a letter

Last but not least, a small gift. You could just as well read it. Thanks Lou!
Read it till the end though, it’s crazy!

Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit. It was now Mid-August which meant he had
been separated from Marsha for more than two months. Two months, and all he had
to show was three dog-eared letters and two very expensive long-distance phone
calls. True, when school had ended and she’d returned to Wisconsin, and he to
Locust, Pennsylvania, she had sworn to maintain a certain fidelity. She would
date occasionally, but merely as amusement. She would remain faithful.

But lately Waldo had begun to worry. He had trouble sleeping at night and when
he did, he had horrible dreams. He lay awake at night, tossing and turning
underneath his pleated quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes as he
pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor and the smooth soothing of
some neanderthal, finally submitting to the final caresses of sexual oblivion.
It was more than the human mind could bear.

Visions of Marsha’s faithlessness haunted him. Daytime fantasies of sexual
abandon permeated his thoughts. And the thing was, they wouldn’t understand how
she really was. He, Waldo, alone understood this. He had intuitively grasped
every nook and cranny of her psyche. He had made her smile. She needed him, and
he wasn’t there (Awww…).

The idea came to him on the Thursday before the Mummers’ Parade was scheduled
to appear. He’d just finished mowing and edging the Edelsons lawn for a dollar
fifty and had checked the mailbox to see if there was at least a word from
Marsha. There was nothing but a circular from the Amalgamated Aluminum Company
of America inquiring into his awing needs. At least they cared enough to write.

It was a New York company. You could go anywhere in the mails. Then it struck
him. He didn’t have enough money to go to Wisconsin in the accepted fashion,
true, but why not mail himself? It was absurdly simple. He would ship himself
parcel post, special delivery. The next day Waldo went to the supermarket to
purchase the necessary equipment. He bought masking tape, a staple gun and a
medium sized cardboard box just right for a person of his build. He judged that
with a minimum of jostling he could ride quite comfortably. A few airholes,
some water, perhaps some midnight snacks, and it would probably be as good as
going tourist.

By Friday afternoon, Waldo was set. He was thoroughly packed and the post
office had agreed to pick him up at three o’clock. He’d marked the package
“Fragile”, and as he sat curled up inside, resting on the foam rubber
cushioning he’d thoughtfully included, he tried to picture the look of awe and
happiness on Marshas face as she opened her door, saw the package, tipped the
deliverer, and then opened it to see her Waldo finally there in person. She
would kiss him, and then maybe they could see a movie. If he’d only thought of
this before. Suddenly rough hands gripped his package and he felt himself borne
up. He landed with a thud in a truck and was off.

Marsha Bronson had just finished setting her hair. It had been a very rough
weekend. She had to remember not to drink like that. Bill had been nice about
it though. After it was over he’d said he still respected her and, after all,
it was certainly the way of nature, and even though, no he didn’t love her, he
did feel an affection for her. And after all, they were grown adults. Oh, what
Bill could teach Waldo – but that seemed many years ago.

Sheila Klein, her very, very best friend, walked in through the porch screen
door and into the kitchen. “Oh gawd, it’s absolutely maudlin outside.” “Ach, I
know what you mean, I feel all icky!” Marsha tightened the belt on her cotton
robe with the silk outer edge. Sheila ran her finger over some salt grains on
the kitchen table, licked her finger and made a face. “I’m supposed to be
taking these salt pills, but,” she wrinkled her nose, “they make me feel like
throwing up.” Marsha started to pat herself under the chin, an exercise she’d
seen on television. “God, don’t even talk about that.” She got up from the
table and went to the sink where she picked up a bottle of pink and blue
vitamins. “Want one? Supposed to be better than steak,” and then attempted to
touch her knees. “I don’t think I’ll ever touch a daiquiri again.”

She gave up and sat down, this time nearer the small table that supported the
telephone. “Maybe Bill’ll call,” she said to Sheila’s glance. Sheila nibbled on
a cuticle. “After last night, I thought maybe you’d be through with him.” “I
know what you mean. My God, he was like an octopus. Hands all over the place.”
She gestured, raising her arms upwards in defense. “The thing is, after a
while, you get tired of fighting with him, you know, and after all I didn’t
really do anything Friday and Saturday so I kind of owed it to him. You know
what I mean.” She started to scratch. Sheila was giggling with her hand over
her mouth. “I’ll tell you, I felt the same way, and even after a while,” here
she bent forward in a whisper, “I wanted to!” Now she was laughing very loudly.

It was at this point that Mr. Jameson of the Clarence Darrow Post Office rang
the doorbell of the large stucco colored frame house. When Marsha Bronson
opened the door, he helped her carry the package in. He had his yellow and his
green slips of paper signed and left with a fifteen cent tip that Marsha had
gotten out of her mother’s small beige pocketbook in the den. “What do you
think it is?” Sheila asked. Marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back.
She stared at the brown cardboard carton that sat in the middle of the living
room. “I dunno.”

Inside the package, Waldo quivered with excitement as he listened to the
muffled voices. Sheila ran her fingernail over the masking tape that ran down
the center of the carton. “Why don’t you look at the return address and see who
it’s from?” Waldo felt his heart beating. He could feel the
vibrating footsteps. It would be soon.

Marsha walked around the carton and read the ink-scratched label. “Ah, god,
it’s from Waldo!” “That schmuck!” said Sheila. Waldo trembled with expectation.
“Well, you might as well open it,” said Sheila. Both of them tried to lift the
staple flap. “Ah sst,” said Marsha, groaning, “he must have nailed it shut.”
They tugged on the flap again. “My God, you need a power drill to get this
thing open!” They pulled again. “You can’t get a grip.” They both stood still,
breathing heavily.

“Why don’t you get a scissor,” said Sheila. Marsha ran into the kitchen, but
all she could find was a little sewing scissor. Then she remembered that her
father kept a collection of tools in the basement. She ran downstairs, and when
she came back up, she had a large sheet metal cutter
in her hand. “This is the best I could find.” She was very out of breath.
“Here, you do it. I-I’m gonna die.” She sank into a large fluffy couch and
exhaled noisily. Sheila tried to make a slit between the masking tape and the
end of the cardboard flap, but the blade was too big and there wasn’t enough
room. “God damn this thing!” she said feeling very exasperated. Then smiling,
“I got an idea.” “What?” said Marsha. “Just watch,” said Sheila, touching her
finger to her head.

Inside the package, Waldo was so transfixed with excitement that he could
barely breathe. His skin felt prickly from the heat, and he could feel his
heart beating in his throat. It would be soon. Sheila stood quite upright and
walked around to the other side of the package. Then she sank down to her
knees, 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.

Written by audiogrammes

June 30, 2013 at 14:17