You want how many balloons?

Me again, guys. It’s Magpie. Peachy is in the air (inside of a plane) between Wales and the lovely land of Aus. This means two things: I get to do Music Monday two weeks in a row- and you are, by extension, stuck with my eclectic and dubious musical tastes until next week.

So, in consideration of you all, I’ve decided to change how I’m interpreting the “To Die For” theme, to bring you something a little different. Continue reading


Some men just can’t hold their arsenic.

It’s that time of the week again, folks. The time when you madly refresh GTN every half hour in desperate anticipation of the next song to complete your Monday experience. Or not. I can dream, can’t I? Anyway, our theme is still To Die For, (and will be until the end of the month,) and if I’m completely honest, I can’t believe  neither Peachy nor me thought of posting this song earlier. Partly because it perfectly fits the theme, and partly because we both think it’s a freaking awesome song from a freaking awesome musical.

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The thing about murder…

‘To Die For – Murder Songs’ sounded like a fantastic theme upon Magpie’s recommendation. Humorously morbid. A loose pun. Chortle. But when it actually came around to writing for this theme I faced a bit of a problem. Call me oldfashioned for liking music to scale away from the homicidal end of the spectrum, but bar “I Shot the Sheriff” I couldn’t really think of any songs that I knew that were related to murder. My first last resort was to throw in some music from my emotional teenage years (Bullet for my Valentine, anyone?) but I realised I wouldn’t be able to hold my head high as a blogger or adult human being ever again. So in the end I decided that my reluctance was pure laziness.

The moral of the story? Song of the day is about expanding one’s musical horizons! “There are many fantastic songs about murder,” I was told. “You just have to look.” Yet expanding ones musical horizons does, admittedly, require a level of effort I don’t readily expel when overseas with limited internet. So in the end, I met my laziness halfway.


Come for the witty posts, stay for the excellent artwork.

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If It Hadn’t Been For Love

Hey, hey, hey, what up kiddies? Magpie here, inaugurating Music Mondays. Peachy and me put our heads together about Song of the Day, and after we’d recovered from our respective concussion, we decided to retire it as a category. We had heaps of fun writing for it every day, and we got some really positive feedback from people who were enjoying it, but as enriching as our Desert Island experience was, we felt like writing about music every single day wasn’t leaving us much time for other content.

So we’ve relegated Song of the Day to the metaphorical archives, (may it rest in peace,) and have overhauled our humble blog. Our music content now takes the form of Music Mondays, and will have a wittily named monthly theme, just to keep things interesting. The theme for July is… (*drumroll, please!*) Continue reading

Desert Island Whimsy

It’s been a long week on this island.

At times, i’ve been comforted by my Desert Island Survival Songs and the unique beauty of a tropical setting. But there’s only so much coconut one person can take. And there’s only so much campfire acapella two people can perform before you just really start to feel sorry for the wildlife.

Yes, that’s right, there are two of us now.

Two days ago I was nakedly minding my own business when I noticed a whale-like silhouette on the horizon. I was pretty excited at first, but Wilson curtly reminded me that I don’t have the prerequisite whimsy or gills for whale-riding. A kill-joy, that Wilson.

So I went about my day, brooding, coconut hoarding, hunting small animals and boogying in the night time. As the last chorus of Dreadlock Holiday faded with the wilting dusk, the whale was nowhere to be seen. Whatever, I thought. He would be back with the sunrise to taunt me further (Wilson and the Whale were obviously in cahoots.)

But instead of waking to a whale, or the beautiful sound of Whitacre’s Allelulia, I woke to the savage face of Magpie come to end my life. Soaked and sunburnt, she pinned me down and beat me with a ball of makeshift yarn. I was certain that she had gone mad.

But the force of her blows promptly gave way to anguished tears. “I just want some meat,” she sobbed.

So I cooked her up some chargrilled toucan and we talked shit out.

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Here’s a hypothetical: my desert island (sans heat, deadly fauna and insects) is actually damn beautiful.

Because i’m on a desert island, I wake with the sun as nature intended. I watch it cast light on to inky water and for a sec I forget about my makeshift noose, the volleyball who stole my silver chain, and my constant dreams about German cowboys. I listen to this heartbreakingly beautiful song and am at peace.


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I’m sorry, Wilson!

After my last post  about the implacable nostalgia that Germans call ‘sehnsucht’*, i’m gonna keep it light and on-track today. Desert island day #3. I’ve listened to Iron and Golden Brown so many times that i’m beginning to unconsciously tie pieces of clothing together in a noose-like fashion. On the up-side, I find the nakedness freeing – it’s so hot on this damn island. But look! What’s that in the sky? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s a ghostly apparition of Magpie come to grant me song number 3.


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