And then there were five. Welcome to lucky part number 13 of my season reviews on every side.
Many may be surprised that this one landed in at #15 with so many other contenders for the bottom spots (much talk over Freo’s wherabouts), and so am I, to be honest.
While there’s a pile of bad ones to get through, the more I listened to this, the less enthused I became. Not only less enthused about this song, but my excitement for my whole afternoon seems to be dwindling.
I managed to knock off work a bit early and the plan was to bang out another entry in this series before catching up with friends for a drink, but now I can hardly even move.
Apathy has washed over me – a sort of sonic malaise. Or should I say Marseillaise?
That’s sort of a joke. And yes, I am aware the best ones shouldn’t require a paragraph to explain… But I’ll get to that.
First off, let’s talk about why it sucks.
The major problem is the melody. Imagine if you didn’t recognise the tune, it sounds silly and pompous. And not pompous with a reason – like your team has just been thrashed by these unstoppable demons of sport, but pompous in the same way ‘The pride of South Australia‘ is pompous.
If you heard this tune with no words, you’d be sooner thinking of circus clowns marching up and down the big top than thinking of fearsome warriors of football.
Just think of it now and create a film clip in your mind…
“We will always fight for victory…” (stumbles over own feet). “We will answer to the call…” (gets bucket of water stuck on their head). “…Brisbane Lions, we’ll kick the winning score” (looks down and hose to see why it’s not working and gets water all over their red wig) etc. etc.
And the shuffle feel they put over it is bizarre. Now, instead of soldiers marching off to their Saturday afternoon battle, you’ve got drunken clowns, wobbling side to side in their humorously oversized shoes.
Dig up a copy of the (semi) original Fitzroy song, and there’s a beat you can march along to. Maybe, again, that is a sign of the times.
The ’96 merger (the 90s responsible again!) between the Lions and the Bears that required an assimilation of club tune was a no-brainer – anyone here remember the Brisbane Bears song? Holy smokes. Just let me at it.
I wish I’d thought of these articles earlier and incorporated even the songs that are now lost, just so that I could put that criminally shameful stinker at the bottom of the heap. You could probably you tube it, and you’ll see (hear?) what I mean.
Actually, no, don’t do it to yourselves. Where was I…
So yes, they picked the better of the two tunes, and just shuffled around the lyrics – but why remove the patriotic pride of the drumming from the Fitzroy version? Particularly to trade it with this shuffling side beat we get now.
Also, Fitzroy (I believe) had their own opening bars, they didn’t use the… well, the ‘All you need is love’ bit.
To wrap up this rant with the joke made several paragraphs above, Fiztroy (and then the Lions) appropriated the national anthem of France for their club song – the song from Marseille, or ‘La Marseillaise’, as it is known in France.
Get it – malaise/Marseillaise? Only works on paper, doesn’t it (if at all).
But it does tie in with something genuinely funny: on an early post in this series, a comment by Lion Down Under repeats a rumour that when Bernard Tomic first played in the French Open he asked why they were playing the Brisbane Lions’ club song. I really want this to be true.
I should address that we’ve now hit four interstate songs in a row, but this appears to be more about the time period than geography.
Without planning to, we’ve so far covered every new song introduced in the 80s and 90s, apart from Fremantle’s.
In closing, points must be awarded on two counts: for mentioning Fitzroy in the lyrics, and for only having one verse.
If only they didn’t repeat it and it was just 40 seconds long.