“And then we heard the guy shout, ‘Wait a minute, which football team do you support? Is it the Glens or the Blues?’ So my father said, ‘I support the Glens.’ When the salesman said, ‘Oh, they are a great team,’ my dad let him in and bought a set. The canny salesman knew that most people in Belfast supported either Glentoran Football Club or Linfield. “My father opened the door and then shut it again,” recalls Morrison with a chuckle. Morrison recalls a key moment from his early teenage years, when a door-to-door salesman came round selling encyclopaedias. ‘Stiff upper lip’ and all that, right?” he says.Īfter a truncated time at Orangefield Secondary School – like many working-class kids of his generation, Morrison left school at 15 – he became a voracious reader of publications from The Jazz Book Club, to which his father George, a shipyard electrician, subscribed. It was just a take-off of British comedy, The Goons and such, which I had grown up enjoying. “It’s probably one of the only tracks where I played that many chords on piano. I remember ‘Mechanical Bliss’ well, because I also played piano on that,” he replies. He is amused that the song I ask about from Keep ’Er Lit is not “Astral Weeks” or “Sweet Thing” but an obscure 1974 composition called “Mechanical Bliss”, a comedy one that Morrison sings in a parody English upper class accent.
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