This one's a recent acquisition for me, found in a Morningside charity shop for a paltry amount of money. This is a very old song (more on which later), but this record itself is early-to-mid sixties, by the looks of it, packaged up with George Formby's "The Window Cleaner" and Stanley Holloway's recording of "The Lion and Albert" (which, incidentally, was read brilliantly by Jarvis Cocker a few years ago) Both of these date from the mid-thirties, making this a sort of pre-war jolly singalong ep. The Laughing Policeman was recorded a decade earlier, but still fits the era, the last days of the music hall. Thing is, it's not actually Mr Penrose's song at all, although he took credit and money for it. It's an homage to/ rip off of (delete as applicable) George W. Johnson's 1890s hit "The Laughing Song" which thanks to the wonders of the internetron you can listen to here (there's a few different versions there because wax cylinders had to be recorded individually back then, meaning he had to sing it again and again and again to record a large number of copies.) He was marketed as The Laughing Darkie (hey, at least they acknowledged he was black!) because of his powerful, musical laugh - the very thing copied by Penrose a few short years later. However, they're both long dead and buried now, and every piece like this helps redress the baance a tiny bit.
I've chosen to focus on this song, because it's the only one of the three I wasn't familiar with, although I'd heard of it, if you see what I mean - the laugh was used recently in an advert for woodstain f'r'instance. It's been a popular children's song for decades and it chills me to the bone.
In the age we live in of course the author is dead, pop culture is king and no excuses are needed for anachronistic unlikely interpretations but even were this not the case I do not think much effort is required to subvert this ditty into a terrifying vision of a totalitarian society where coppers arrest you and say things like
"He said "I must arrest you!"
He didn't know what for.
And then he started laughing
Until he cracked his jaw."
My better half, upon hearing the song, which she was previously familiar with, gave it some thought and suggested that the eponymous rozzer was a gentleman who struggled with his mental health, but I hardly feel that that ameliorates the situation any. However it was a popular request on bbc children's radio for years and years, meaning that for many people it's closely related to childhood, innocence and the trustworthy Reithian wireless.
In which case, what the blazes is it doing paired up with When I'm Cleaning Windows? I know it's tame stuff, but it was banned by the bbc for years (not that that was uncommon before the war, or indeed after it - mentioning God was enough, so this was definitely out. Max Miller was banned for years in the fifties after telling a joke on the BBC, the punchline of which was "I didn't know weather to block her passage or toss myself off." He must) have had an inkling that wouldn't go down too well)
The Formby song is juvenile, certainly, but it's not a children's song the way the other two are. Maybe the record company were feeling giddy after the Chatterley ban was lifted or something, or maybe they just had a bit of extra space on one side, I don't know.
I still feel terribly disquieted by this song though, I think because I don't have any subconscious associations for me, it carries no cultural baggage, it's just a man laughing...
...while he bangs people up.
There's another copy of this single somewhere on a shelf on Planet Wilf.
ReplyDeleteI haven't actually played the thing for ages, mostly because my chief memory of the song is that it *terrified* me when I first heard it (I would only have been about 3 or 4 years old). I'm not really sure why - perhaps it's because the chorus features an adult who has lost control to the extent where he can no longer speak coherently.
Pairing up The Laughing Policeman with The Window Cleaner and the other track is certainly a very odd thing to do, but it was the fact that my pennies bought me two classic novelty songs instead of one that sold it to me, so it was certainly a smart move, however inappropriate the coupling may be.
I've never played (or otherwise heard of) The Lion And Albert. Perhaps one day I should.
I have to say I love seeing the sleeves of some of these old singles, though. My copy is red rather than green, but otherwise looks similar to the one in your photo. On the front are a couple of small plugs for E.M.I. Record Tokens, the Record Mail and 'Emitex' cleaning material, all of which are fairly understandable.
On the reverse, however, is a full advert for the Morphy-Richards Hairdryer, with a five-panel illustration showing a girl with her hair in rollers reaching for her Hairdryer, which she uses by attaching a plastic tube to the end of it, which fits under a shower cap... a very bizarre idea to a thirty-something male living in 2010! And then, with her hair sorted, what does this girl do in the last panel? She goes back to bed! That's no way to treat a hairdo - I always find my hair looks like it's been dragged through a hedge when I wake in the mornings. Maybe I've got particularly badly-behaved hair. Or perhaps this is some magic property of Morphy-Richards styled "Simply beautiful hair"?
In any case, it seems like an odd thing to advertise on the back of a record. They've tried desperately to link it to the product by telling us that "the dinky stand leaves your hands free for playing records" - as tenuous a link as any I've seen!
I do like getting these little glimpses of bygone ages. It saddens me a little that half a century from now, today's downloads will offer little insight into the world of 2010, other than the rather dubious quality of the public's taste in music...
Andrew Philips (Wilf).
And only after I posted the above did I cast my eye over some of the other singles you've recently exhumed, and noticed the Pipettes' variation of that exact same advert!
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