Hang 'Em High

Before you ask, today's blog title is not a reference to the future fate of our MPs or MPs in waiting. No, it's far more serious than that. We had friends round for lunch this Bank Holiday Monday just gone and, as is the norm, I appropriated the CD player, iPod, Spotify and turntable; well it is my house.

So far so good - the lamb curry and cold beers were hitting the spot and the Blue Note compilation was very agreeable. What happened next would, in the normal scheme of things, not raise an eyebrow. And indeed, had I not said something, nobody would have been any the wiser. Next up on the wheels of steel was the album Soul Limbo by Booker T And The MGs. A fine platter I hear you say, and I would have to agree with you. Were it not for Track 3. The third track on this splendid album is a cover of the Hang 'Em High soundtrack. Whether in its full cinematic pomp or this Hammond driven variation it conjures up images of Clint Eastwood righting wrongs and a landscape drier than a pet shop floor. Well it used to. That was until a few years back when Mrs M heard it and erased any such images from my mind. No, she said, when I hear this I see a trapeze artist from a cheesy '70s circus wearing a spangly body suit with only a safety net below her. She might also, Mrs M informed me, be riding a unicycle. Well that did it. Try as I might, whenever that track has come on since, I don't see Clint: all I see is the big top, dancing horses and the high wire. Damn you, Billy Smart.

Booker T & The MGs: Hang 'Em High