March 14, 2017

 

 

Sister Sledge entered the charts in 75,

making the Top 20 with ‘Mama Never Told Me’,

and four years later in 79.

3 more hits followed consecutively.

 

Also in 75, ‘Then Came You’ –

Joni performed with The Spinners.

But will be remembered for her sister- act,

and their songs that were all winners.

 

‘He’s The Greatest Dancer’ & ‘We Are Family’

both making the UK Top Ten.

With ‘Lost In Music’ reaching No.17 –

this disco hit, played again and again.

 

‘Frankie’ their only No.1 in 85 –

these ‘All American Girls’ we loved true.

Their songs also remixed hits in the 80’s,

and remixed a 2^nd time, in the 90’s too.

 

This bubbly Singer/Songwriter & Producer

deserves every accolade due.

And today Dear Joni, you can be sure –

The Pop World will be ‘Thinking Of You’

 

 

 

 

 

Tune in to

Tonys Time Machine

Live on

15th & 22nd March.

11 am – 1pm

(with usual repeats in between)

to hear Tony’s

‘March Musical Memories’

with songs by

George Michael,

David Bowie,

and

Freddie Mercury

including Tony’s

special tribute to

Joni Sledge

and music to accompany

 the Poem

For The Love Of Joni Sledge

written by

Harriet Blackbury.

 

Vikki will also be close at hand

as usual, to bring everything together.

 

So listen, relax and enjoy.

 

 

March 7, 2017

 

Tune in to 

Tonys Time Machine

on Wednesday  8th March

11 am – 1 pm

to listen to Tony’s special show

dedicated to 

International Womens Day.

 

There will be live recorded Interviews

from a selection of ladies from Creative Support.

and as usual Vikki will be close at hand.

 

Tony will be chatting to his

Studio Guest of the  week 

Claire Shaw

who will also be reading

For The Love Of Girl Power

written by

Harriet Blackbury.

 

Have fun everyone

 

PS  The Show is repeated

Thursdays at 8am

and

Saturdays at 7pm  

 

February 27, 2017

 

 

The dynamics change

almost overnight

without a hint

of a clue.

A new day dawns

and a wilderness

is the only sight

in view.

 

A life that let us

go forward

now just a path

of dust.

Another one

now missing

from our tight

circle of trust.

 

The dynamics change

almost overnight

without so much

as a blink.

A new day dawns

and yesterday’s plans

we immediately have

to re-think.

 

A life that let us

go forward

now finds us in

‘stand still’ mode.

Another one

now missing

as we embark

on an unknown road.

 

 

 

 

He stood her up.

He stole her pride.

He sent her on

a wild goose ride,

 

to nowhere that

she’d ever been –

If he’d just said

‘He wasn’t keen’!

 

He stood her up.

she waited long,

Listening to repeats

of that same song,

 

Inside the doorway

of The Robin Hood.

Gently simmering

for his blood.

 

He stood her up,

so long ago.

Never could she let

the moment go.

 

For over an hour

she loitered there

With a sinking feeling

of despair.

 

He stood her up

on the first date,

as guys came and went,

and thought her bait!

 

And she, naïve –

a cold & wet young teen,

as the Juke Box belted out

Yellow bloody Submarine!

 

He stood her up –

‘A promise counts for nowt’,

She thought as the wind

blew her brolly inside out,

 

as the heavens again opened,

with not a rat in sight,

as she trundled home, bedraggled

on that wasted night.  

 

 

 

 

And humour in the end won out,

the common theme, the raucous shout,

as usual suspects all in place,

including those fallen from grace.

 

And bon viveurs and raconteurs,

took to the stage and made it theirs.

And champagne flowed and fuelled the fire,

as eyes recalled love’s lost desire.

 

And once or twice or maybe more,

the same old tale, bounced off the floor.

Revived, recycled, yet still the same –

a favourite of Sir Wots-his-name?

 

and hands were shaken and both cheeks kissed,

as Farewells said, from some now pissed,

and promises flowed from meaning lips,

as one, too tightly, got to grips,

 

Seizing the chance – you know the type,

who wins a girl by talking tripe.

All in his head, part of his act.

there’s always one and that’s a fact.

 

And queuing black cabs form a line,

as bodies fall in – ‘Your place or mine’?

Others not knowing their destination,

get out at Piccadilly Station.

 

And wander off into the night,

A night still young – Go fly your kite.

For humour in the end won through,

the common ground, that buddies knew.

 

And usual subjects, play their ‘cards’,

staying up til dawn – these real die-hards,

until departing, with words of cheer

‘Same time next week – make sure you’re here’.

 

 

 

 

Ingrained from birth –

encouragement gone bonkers.

Hopes and advice to where

the future could lead.

 

Ingrained from birth

to be like someone,

a model, a standard,

a force to succeed.

 

Ingrained from birth,

into brain cells cemented –

a carbon copy, a cloned image –

Lord, let uniqueness be freed.

 

 

 

 

Don’t let her go to your Ethel’s,

she’ll give her something we can’t give.

She’ll spoil her and make her dissatisfied,

and make her hell on earth to live with.

 

Don’t let her go to your Ethel’s,

she’ll only get into her mind,

and give her false hope and aspirations,

that when she returns, she won’t leave behind.

 

Don’t let her go to your Ethel’s,

we’ll bring her up our own way,

scratching each crumb together-

there is nothing more to say.

 

Don’t let her go to your Ethel’s –

but too late our cry of distress!

She’s already besotted with her thinking,

more so than if we hadn’t cared less!

 

 

 

 

He was here and yet,

now nowhere to be seen.

Like so many more

who came in between.

 

He was here, you bet –

joy, a bottomless floor.

No thought for tomorrow,

knowing there was no more.

 

He was here and yet,

now a lone silhouette,

on a deserted shore,

that time won’t forget.

 

He was here and yet,

his voice lingers still,

as the echo of laughter,

meanders downhill.

 

He was here and yet,

never meant to stay.

Take a moment of heaven

and store it away.

 

 

 

Oh, the build up – mercy me,

a busted gut, where blood ran free.

 

Oh, such little sense on show.

Up in arms – well I don’t know!

 

Oh, the broken hearts in bits,

recovery slow – as panic hits.

 

Oh, the value of wisdom’s call,

when backs were up against the wall.

 

Oh, the scandal, all yesterday’s news,

forgiveness found in crowded pews.

 

Oh, the undoing of twisted lies,

so weak were those soft alibis.

 

Oh, the relief of answered prayers,

a job well done – end of nightmares.

 

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