Your mission, should you choose to accept it: A song to sum up what has been another memorable Newcastle United campaign…
Certainly not the appalling My Way, written by Paul Anka and made famous by Frank Sinatra in 1969, even though that was a very good year for Newcastle United.
The vainglorious lyrics were adapted by Anka from a French ditty, Comme d’Habitude, so not only do they score nil points for self-awareness, they are not even original. Small wonder it was a favourite of karaoke king Terry Venables.
How about something a lot more cheerful, a little nearer to home, befitting the travelling hordes that will descend on Craven Cottage for the 58th and concluding game of the 2025/26 season? Coincidentally, We Can Swing Together also first hit the airwaves in the year of our Inter-Cities Fairs Cup triumph.
I heard it most recently on Friday night in Worthing, performed by Dave Hull-Denholm and the four other members of Lindisfarne, including the remarkable Rod Clements.
Tyneside and West Sussex are not obvious bedfellows but, when the chorus rang out, the roof of the Pavilion Theatre nearly took off. Which would have been interesting, because it is built on stilts, above the English Channel. As Clements joked when the gig started: “Welcome to the start of the pier show!”
For those unfamiliar with the lyrics, penned by Alan Hull (Dave’s father-in-law) and released as a solo single before Lindisfarne formed, they tell the story of a bloody good party down the pub, a lock-in and its curtailment by the police. If the tale had been set not in Newcastle but in London, El Tel would doubtless have called it “a right old Cockerney knees-up”.
The chorus is one you just can’t help singing:
We can swing together, ’cause we feel we’re doing it right
We can swing together, we can swing all through the night
Regrets, I’ve had a few, one of the biggest being a failure to attend a legendary Lindisfarne Christmas concert before I turned my back on Tyneside in 1979. What is it that makes people ignore the treasures on their doorstep and search instead for something different? How could a teenager hooked on Dylan and Springsteen (pictured below), Carole King and Joni Mitchell overlook the genius of Alan Hull? My bad!
Still, the boys are back in town on December 19 this year. Perhaps I will make up for lost time at last and combine the City Hall gig with a match at St James’ Park . . . if I become one of the lucky 250 winners of a season ticket for next season.
Next season. Urghhh. Nearly three months of purgatory to endure, once the curtain falls on this campaign.
First, Fulham at Craven Cottage. Been there a few times over the years, starting in the April of the 1979-80 season. Rubbish game (we lost 1-0); rubbish crowd (7,152); rubbish competition (Division Two, before it was reborn as the Championship, which is still rubbish, based on what I’ve seen on TV recently).
Were we beaten by a scruffy shot or even an own-goal? I honestly can’t remember, though I’m pretty sure there was grass growing on the terrace behind Steve Hardwick’s net. Probably more than in his six-yard box. Tommy Cassidy in midfield, Terry Hibbitt on the wing and Alan Shoulder up top. Those were the days.
Turn up, ticketless, just before kick-off, pay a few quid at the turnstile, no security checks, no segregation. Is that right or has false-memory syndrome struck again?
The Premier League is something else. Beg, steal or borrow to gain admission, such is the demand from away fans. Last season an online search revealed my affiliation and I was barred from a home section for this fixture, despite attending the FA Cup tie only months earlier in the identical part of the stadium. Mind, we won the cup tie and the price of tickets to watch us lose the league match was almost twice as much, so maybe Dame Fortune was smiling on me after all.
The West London temperature in the shade at 4pm is forecast to be about 33 Centigrade, about 91F (as in Flipping Hot). Stick a thermometer in the centre-circle and it will be three figures in old money, I reckon. Ideal prep for the Trumpian farce that will start on June 11 and drag on till July 19.
Make the most of Fulham, lads and lasses. Let’s all swing together.