Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins: Liberating songs for middle-aged blokes who are out and proud

DO you refuse to deny your true middle-aged male self any longer? Do you think the Top Gun soundtrack is a bloody good record, actually? It’s time to come out of the musical closet with these tracks.

War Pigs – Black Sabbath, 1970

Now you’re comfortable in your middle-aged masculinity, you can admit you love this cheesy slab of heavy rock. ‘Generals gathered in their masses/ Just like witches at black masses.’ Totally brilliant, apart from rhyming ‘masses’ with ‘masses’. How many songs these days have got a deep message like ‘war is bad’?

Danger Zone – Kenny Loggins, 1986

Is this song featuring Kenny gasping out lyrics like ‘Metal under tension/ Beggin’ you to touch and go’ maybe a tiny bit naff? No. You could easily have become a fighter pilot if you’d joined the RAF 20 years ago. Unfortunately you’re shortsighted and wear glasses, and that is definitely the only reason you’re not a maverick jet ace who’s shagging Kelly McGillis.

Kashmir – Led Zeppelin, 1975 

‘I’m a traveller of both time and space’ is actually true, as you exist in three dimensions and, judging by all your grey hairs, have travelled many years through time. More importantly, Kashmir lets you explore your spiritual side without having to do boring meditation. It’s also great for pretending you’re on an epic mystical journey when you’re waiting to get into the car park at B&Q.

Parklife – Blur, 1994

Blur got a lot of stick for being middle-class mockney wankers, but now you’re 45 and long past caring about whether they’re ‘cool’ or not, you can unashamedly enjoy the most iconic song of Britpop and your long-defunct youth. Without wishing to open up old wounds, it’s actually an excellent album that pisses on Definitely Maybe. You might listen to the whole thing again when you’re catching up on some work emails this evening.

Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2 – Pink Floyd, 1979

Obviously every track on The Wall is a work of unequalled genius, but this one sums up your heroic refusal to conform to mindless authority. Admittedly you didn’t take the ‘We don’t need no education’ bit too seriously and got eight As and two Bs at GCSE, because you didn’t want to end up working in a factory. Your mum and dad would have been so disappointed.

Eternal Flame – The Bangles, 1988

A departure from dad rock that demonstrates your open-minded, catholic and erudite approach to music appreciation. Also you still fancy Susanna Hoffs. Admittedly the prognosis for that relationship is not great and getting worse, but it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved the singer out of The Bangles at all, to paraphrase slightly.

Run to the Hills – Iron Maiden, 1982

Once you eschewed 80s metal on the entirely reasonable grounds of it being sexually and emotionally retarded guitar onanism for virgins. But now you’re middle-aged with a sense of perspective you’ll concede this does rock, although you’re still not sure someone with Bruce Dickinson’s lyrical skills should have tackled the subject of genocide.

Life in the Fast Lane – The Eagles, 1976 

The Eagles’ best song, because it’s not plodding country rock. And in your own way you lead life in the fast lane too, although it’s more getting pissed on Grolsch in your local than an uncontrollable spiral of cocaine abuse. You’re not in the habit of drug-driving on ludes with a sexually insatiable woman who is ‘terminally pretty’ either, but you’re definitely with The Eagles in spirit.

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Cyclists emerge for futile courtship ritual

CYCLISTS have emerged from winter hibernation to display their summer plumage and demonstrate their fertility to uninterested potential mates.

The brightly-coloured creatures are taking to Britain’s roads and pavements to show off their lurid helmets, jackets and tight cycle shorts, in a courtship performance they wrongly believe will lead to sex.

However their overt sexual displays of lycra-clad genitals and tendency to weave erratically through traffic have led many members of the public to call for a cull.

Cyclist Martin Bishop said: “I just don’t understand it. I’ve got a professional-level bike, shorts that allow people to make out my penis and I regularly shave my legs. Yet all I get is derision and scorn. 

“I assumed I’d attract the attention of a female cyclist, or perhaps even a lady pedestrian, and we’d have copulated several times by now. But all that’s happened is a van driver shouting at me to ‘stop f**king sneaking up on the inside’.”

Although harmless when dismounted and wearing everyday clothing such as suits, during mating season cyclists can quickly become a nuisance, often forming large flocks of males that clog up country roads and pubs at weekends. 

Motorist Tom Logan said: “Generally I don’t mind them. It’s quite funny watching them get off their bikes at cafes and walk around bow-legged with their bruised, inflamed testicles. 

“The problem is if they cycle into you when you’re doing 50. A fluorescent yellow one did it the other day and it took me three buckets of soapy water to get the mess off. 

“Even after an hour of scrubbing there were still bits of lycra stuck to my Audi’s radiator grille.”