Monday 30 April 2012

Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not - Arctic Monkeys

I didn't know it was possible, but I took a dislike to this album before even hearing a note. The problem was that everyone was raving about it. That in itself is guaranteed to raise my suspicions; a case of emperor's new clothes? Surely something that popular can't be that good? Total nonsense I know but I couldn't help it. Then, just as I was beginning to think I might be wrong, I caught sight of the album cover. I hated it. And wasn't the lead singer a slob! Fancy smoking on the cover of your own album. Tscchhh. And so it was finally decided. I was going to avoid it. Yup I'd taken a dislike to an album because of the cover art. My snobbery had reached new heights.

But you should never judge a book by its cover. Or an album by its record sleeve. The music did the talking as slowly, track by track, I began to appreciate the album. At first it was a begrudgingly "Maybe this album is not as bad as I first thought. Still don't like it though". Then I started to listen to the lyrics. It was the lyrics that sealed it. They say write about what you know. So we get stories of nights out, waiting at bus stops, strops, taxis home and having a good time. Too good a time in some cases. Northern life in neon lights.

The songs are full of great lyrics delivered at such a breakneck speed that it's hard to pick favourites. How about this, about a taxi ride home after a night out;

"See her in the green dress? She talked to me at the bar
How come its already two pound fifty? We've only gone about a yard
Dint ya see she were gorgeous, she was beyond belief
But this lad at the side drinking a Smirnoff ice came and paid for her tropical Reef"

or about chatting up the opposite sex;

"And I'm so tense, never tenser
Could all go a bit Frank Spencer?
I'm talking gibberish, tip of the tongue but I can't deliver it
...Properly, oh it's all getting on top of me"

So if you were to ask me my opinion now....well I'd say it was a British pop classic continuing the tradition of story telling in a three minute pop song; tales of what life is really like without the glamour and glitz. Urban, gritty and real. Then again I do go on a bit. Oh and I do now know that the cover photo is not of a band member.............. It's still crap though!



Sunday 29 April 2012

Tapestry - Carole King

I've always believed that one of the great things about meeting someone new, other than the boring clap-trap of getting to know their football allegiances, politics, beliefs etc is taking a peep at their music collection. Not only is this a lot of fun, but it also reveals a great deal about their personality. Probably a lot more than listening to them go on and on about their family holidays to Skegness or the time that they got lost in Tesco when they were shopping with their mam......

Yes a music collection can be very revealing. Do they have a penchant for 70s disco? If so they probably like a good night out. Are there a couple of folk albums in the mix? They probably have a fondness for pubs and the outdoors. Spot any Phil Collins? RUN!

Then there are things that can be discerned from the absences; gaps reveal a great deal. No Beatles, Stones, Dylan or Grateful Dead? Obviously not interested in the classics or mining the past for musical kicks. A forward looking individual with no time for nostalgia? What about blues, jazz or trip-hop. All these give of essential clues to their psychological make up.

Then there is the compatibility test. Do they have any of the albums that you would consider to be the life blood of your musical tastes? The albums that you would rather give up an appendage or internal organ than be without; The Stone Roses debut, Revolver by The Beatles, Green by R.E.M. or Now That's What I Call Music 46. If you really like them then maybe you can settle for one or two tracks from such classics. Maybe.

So when I started looking through Sarah's huge collection of music I started to understand a lot more; nodding sagely when I came across albums that I owned, chuckling at those that I thought were 'silly' and investigating those that I had not heard of. Surely not! Too many of the latter category can make you feel rather inadequate. And that is where this album comes in. I'm ashamed to say that I'd never heard of it. I know. Well it never really came onto my radar. After all it's only one of the best selling album of all time. But when I picked it up my curiosity was piqued. So it went into Sarah's CD played whilst we chatted.

I was gobsmacked. Firstly due to the sheer quality of the songwriting - almost all of the tracks on there have been huge hits for other artists. Pop standards. And there was me thinking that the definitive version of  'I Feel The Earth Move' was by Martika! How wrong I was. Secondly because I approached the reconnaissance mission with an air of superiority and never expected to find anything truly enlightening. To understand the effect it had let's take a moment to look at the track listing;



'I Feel the Earth Move'
'So Far Away'
'It's Too Late'
'Home Again'
'Beautiful'
'Way Over Yonder'
'You've Got a Friend'
'Where You Lead'
'Will You Love Me Tomorrow?'
'Smackwater Jack'
'Tapestry'
'(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman'


At least five of the tracks are stonewall pop classics and the rest aren't far behind. It is no exaggeration to say that I was humbled. It doesn't happen often. I thought I had the higher musical moral ground but this brought me tumbling off the hill. And it taught me a lesson; that there's more to music than Beatles, indie pop and rock. And that there's more to female singer-songwriters than Kate Bush. Two facts that I thought to be indisputable and true along with gravity, air and the speed of light. Scientifically provable universal truths.


So if you ever find yourself browsing through someone else's collection. Take a moment. Hold in those sniggers. Don't be judgmental. You might be surprised and you might just learn something about yourself.



Saturday 28 April 2012

Let It Bee - Voice of the Beehive

As well as general indie music, the late 80s were a great time if you were a fan of female fronted guitar groups. Band after band appeared and almost every single one played upbeat guitar pop music. Voice of the Beehive had the same agenda but their was set apart from their peers by having two female vocalists. That's just showing off! The band wrote some of the best pop tunes of the late 80s including the hits 'I Walk The Earth' and 'I Say Nothing', sisters Tracey and Melissa providing fantastic harmonies; reminiscent of west coast US surf music.

This was one of those albums that I ended up buying twice - first on cassette and then again on CD. Damn those technological advances! The CD format though was perfect for this type of music - the clarity really enhancing the summeresque harmonies.

Unfortunately I never saw the band the first time round but I did manage to catch them when they supported The Wonder Stuff in Wolverhampton in 2001. But very nearly didn't.....

The Wonder Stuff were playing one of, what was becoming, traditional Christmas shows and Sarah, NR and myself had managed to get tickets. We'd been looking forward to the concert for months as they usually signalled the start of the festive period celebrations. Christmas was coming. So we headed off down the M1 from our house in Leeds. Spirits were high; music was playing on the stereo and we were chatting excitedly about seeing the Wonder Stuff and the support bands Voice of the Beehive and Jesus Jones. It was going to be like a mini-80s festival. It was going to be great.

"At least we have the tickets- it wouldn't be funny if we got all the way to Wolverhampton and didn't have them.", Sarah noted.

"S**t!!!", I exclaimed and threw the car from lane 3 into lane 1 of the motorway, "I've left them on the kitchen table!" 

Thankfully we had only travelled a couple of junctions down the motorway. My travelling companions were less than impressed, but relieved that a disastrous mistake had been avoided. It really would not have been funny if we'd got to the Midlands without tickets. No for me anyway!

So we retraced our steps, I picked up the tickets and set of again down the M1 with a distinct feeling of deja-vu. Needless to say I had to endure nearly three hours of endless ribbing and pee taking about almost ruining the weekend. A bit harsh! 

But it was worth it - it was a great concert with all three bands providing top entertainment. It was especially good to catch Voice of the Beehive and their brand of sunny pop music, making us forget momentarily that it we were in the depths of a British winter. It's just a shame that my travelling companions on that day haven't let me forget that I forgot the tickets - the story is wheeled out at every opportunity. 


Friday 27 April 2012

Echoes And Rhymes - The Primitives

This is a newie but an oldie... The Primitives are back. Hurrah! When I heard that they had recorded a new album; their first full album since the criminally under-rated 'Galore' in 1991, I was mightily pleased..... until I read that it was going to wholly consist of cover versions. Suddenly I was not so pleased. And then I saw the track listing. The first track was 'Panic'. "Oh god no! Not a cover of a Smiths song", I thought to myself. This was getting worse by the minute.

You see Smiths covers never go particularly well. Of all of the great bands of the 80s era for some reason their songs do not translate well. I've yet to hear a decent cover version of a Smiths track. Don't believe me? Just listen to The Puppini Sisters version of the aforementioned 'Panic'. Yuck. Then there is The Beautiful South trashing 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now'. Usually a reliable band when it comes to cover versions, their rendition of this classic is awful. A sort of cod-reggae plastic soul affair. I've only managed to listen to it once and that's once too many. Maybe the problem is that only Morrissey can pull of the trick of singing those lyrics; on face value miserable and dour, but delivered with wit and a helping of irony. It's a theory I suppose.....

......but I needn't have worried. I should've known better. The Primitives have more class than that. It's a different song. Phew. Panic over.

Don't let that fact that this is a covers album put you off. 'Echoes and Rhymes' is fantastic - partly because the songs selected fit The Primitives mould perfectly, partly because they have chosen more obscure tracks and partly because it's just great to have them back. In fact the album is full of tracks that could've held their own on their debut 'Lovely' - and I can't think of higher praise than that. If you still need convincing check out 'Sunshine In My Rainy Day Mind', a cover of a track by an obscure artist Polly Niles. It's pure guitar pop. Shimmering. Shiny. Super. Then there is 'Single Girl' by Sandy Posey. Who? Exactly. But a great version of a great song. It could easily have been a Primitives original. I could go on but I won't. Sorry but I need to go and give the album another spin.

So if you're in the market for some superlative indie pop played by one of the best guitar bands this is an essential purchase. After the first listen I'd already decided 'Echoes and Rhymes' was to be my summer 2012 album. Now I just need to find some sun!


Thursday 26 April 2012

Comfort In Sound - Feeder

Maybe things have changed since I was at school but musical education was woefully poor. It was never taught with any true purpose nor was it given any real importance either by the teaching staff or the pupils; the former because it didn't form part of the core curriculum and the latter because popular music was largely ignored. Only once can I remember it ever being mentioned during a music lesson and this was at an end of term quiz. Under duress. And even then, as far as the school was concerned, popular music appeared to have stopped in 1970. Probably coinciding with the split of The Beatles. Maybe things have changed now and each music lesson takes more from the Jack Black 'School of Rock' template rather than one dreamt up in 1947. But I doubt it.

You see the problem, as I see it anyway, is that the establishment is still fixated on the idea that classical music is the only form really worth studying. And it had to be done with great reverence and awe. Almost as if you're not supposed to enjoy it or fully understand it. The average mortal - and we are all average as far as classical music scholars are concerned - can only hope to understand a mere fraction of the genre. Popular music is best left to the sweating and ill educated masses and is definitely not appropriate to discuss in a classroom, in a concert hall or in the corridors. But why? Surely at the time it was composed classic music was the popular music of the day. Maybe we have to wait another hundred years or so before we can even remotely consider studying any other form of music? In the words of Ian Dury "What a waste".

I played for many years in an orchestra and hours and hours of practicing the same piece really turned me off classical music. Almost permanently. The ironic thing was that the conductor of the orchestra gave the impression that he was a true afficianodo. An expert in the field. He would regularly pick up the tiniest mistake. So tiny that no one else could hear it. But we had to stop and then start over again - playing it identically to the first aborted effort. Mistakes were not tolerated. Hhhmmmmm. We began to suspect that he was blagging it. So some of us (well PW and I) decided to test our theory..... we played an entire section backwards. All the right notes just not necessarily in the right order. This was no mean feat but we managed it and even finished at the same time as everyone else. We turned nervously to our leader. Not a peep from our esteemed conductor. He'd totally missed it. Ha! We knew it! He was a fake!

Thankfully I didn't to have to rely on my tutors at school to give me a proper grounding in music; music that mattered and would ensure that my passage through life was easier than it would've been had I not. In playground politics, music knowledge was the perfect shield for those who weren't particularly sporty. Whether it was intentional or not, my Dad made sure that I was exposed to as much music as I possibly could. It didn't matter what; The Beatles, ELO, Fleetwood Mac, Bonzo Do Dah Dog Band. It was all fair game.

So it was really comforting to hear that the tradition was continuing. A few years ago.... ok a good few years ago now... I was visiting PW's house and they had discovered that their son was developing a music taste beyond nursery rhymes and children's TV songs..... you see their son was a bit of a Feeder fan. Good choice and actually quite impressive for a three year old. So at every opportunity; at home, in the car, on holiday, they played 'proper' music. And he loved it. I'm not sure where they went from there - Metallica perhaps?

So as long as parents are prepared too instill some popular music knowledge, good or bad, in their offspring then the future of music is safe. A future that is hopefully long enough to ensure that the classical music of 2105 is the likes of Elbow, The Charlatans, Nirvana, Badly Drawn Boy, The Arctic Monkeys, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel and of course Feeder.......



Wednesday 25 April 2012

K - Kula Shaker

It's a very thin line between genius and madman. Admittedly quite often this line will wobble about so one minute you are bragging to your peers about how clever you are and the next people are jeering at you from the sidelines. And throwing stuff. But there is a line and cross it at your peril. In the realm of pop music there are three kinds of people; those that can jump over the line, back and forth, apparently at will without it doing any lasting damage to their standing, those that cross it and never return and those that skirt very close to the line -so close that it's never really clear which side they are on.

David Bowie, Bob Dylan and Bjork (who has to be said has built her HQ in madman land and makes only occasional visits to the other side) are blessed with the ability to do what they like without any question or repercussions.

Then there are those that have bounded over the line and were last seen heading over a hill far in the distance. Take Julian Cope, for example, once a front man to Teardrop Explodes composing top pop tunes but last seen writing about lay lines and ancient stones. Not that this is a bad thing, it's just not something that you would associate with a pop genius. And then there is Syd Barrett....... that story has been told many times so I won't add to it here. Yes there are plenty of examples in this category.

And that brings us to the third category, and the topic of today's album blog. You see I was never really sure exactly which side Crispian Mills, the lead singer of the band, stood. On the face of it 'K' by Kula Shaker is very nearly the perfect guitar pop album; melding eastern mythology with indie beats. Songs that are peppered with sitars, strings, pipes as well as more conventional western instruments. The album really is worth listening to. But then there is the other side. The dark side if you like and one that was never really satisfactorily explained. 'K' had been getting rave reviews, became the fastest selling debut since 'Definitely Maybe' and the band were suddenly pushed into the limelight. Then Crispian appeared to press the self destruct button when the NME published an article where he suggested that the swastika was 'a brilliant image'. Hmmmm. Posh boy loses the plot became the headline of choice. Whether this was taken out of context or not, it does cast a huge shadow on Kula Shaker's achievements. Cracking album or a crack pot lead singer? I'll let you decide.





Tuesday 24 April 2012

Zooropa - U2

'Four Men and a Tent', 'Mission Improbable' and 'Ride Another Day' should've been huge box office hits. Even now I don't know why they weren't. They had it all; action, drama, humour, great characters and exotic locations. Its a mystery. Perhaps it was that the subject matter was just to close to the bone for the general cinema goer? Maybe the 'in-your-face' camera work was a little too realistic for some? Or maybe it was the fact that they were never unleashed into an unsuspecting public? But had they been I'm sure that it would've made household names of their stars.....me and my mates.

You see we went on numerous camping trips to the 'exotic locations' of the Lake District, Scotland and Wales. Not content with just capturing the moments on camera, we also took with us a camcorder to record every waking moment. Just think - every moment captured in glorious colour with stereo sound. But it didn't stop there. Oh no. Because when we returned to the safety and comfort of our homes the captured footage was edited, trimmed and re-recorded. Then the magic happened. A suitable soundtrack was added, along with titles and credits. So from a few hundred hours of footage of us cooking, eating, washing up, cooking, eating, washing up again and staring blankly at the lens true cinematic masterpieces were created. The general public really don't know what they missed!

Several years later, as technology had moved on somewhat, the movies were transferred onto DVD (after being enhanced slightly) and DVD sleeves were created. The digital transfer really breathed new life into the original films. But it didn't stop there - a CD release of a soundtrack was also created to accompany the films. Now I know what you're thinking, "Wow - this bunch of lads must be really creative. I wish I could've seen the films!". Either that or, "They really should have got out more and found girlfriends". Ha, that's shows what little they knew about us - some of us had already actually spoken to the opposite sex!

Usually the camping trips were triggered by a desire to spend some time chilling out, loafing around in the water or shooting the breeze in the pubs on an evening. At least that was the plan. Instead we usually spent it clinging to cliff faces in sheer terror as DB had led us up another lethal gully, or up to our waists in mud having followed a non-existent path or, more often than not, charging around the mountains on bikes. The first trip to be captured on film coincided with the birth of UK mountain biking and we were there. No suspension. No fear. No sense. But it was great fun. So with out trusty guide 'The Lake District Mountain Bike Guide' by Jeremy Ashcroft we set out day-after-day to discover new routes and new dangers. They were challenging routes but we were built of sterner stuff. Pretty soon, over the course of several visits, we had ticked off most of the easy and moderate routes and were soon working through the difficult and hard routes. No problem.

And then in 1993 we decided we needed a bigger challenge. We were ready for the Severe routes. Or at least that's what we thought. We parked up at the car park at Honister Pass, collected our gear and set off for a 'Tour of Great Cable'. We had been working up to this moment. It was our birthright. We were going to conquer the route for Hartlepool and the future mountain bikers!

It was going swimmingly at first. Sure we had to carry the bikes pretty much all the way out of Buttermere. The terrain was unrideable. Huge rock steps, narrow gullies and an unrelenting climb but we were making progress.

"Once we're at the pass it'll be fine", we assured ourselves, "It's downhill then for a bit"

We weren't fine. The downhill into Ennerdale was lethal. Even bigger rock drops. Even more severe gradients. Traps just waiting to rip the unsuspecting rider off their bike. We were about fifteen years too early. A full suspension bike would've eaten it up but we were on fully rigid bikes with cable pull brakes, wearing walking boots, fleeces and lugging a 10kg video camera with us. By the time we were half way into the route and climbing out of the third valley it was already 4pm. We'd already been out for nearly six hours. It was going to be a while before we got back to the car. Water was getting scarce and our provisions were hopelessly inadequate. And it was hurting. A lot.

And all this is captured, as clear as if was yesterday, on video. If you are 'lucky' enough to ever see this footage it is quite remarkable. Honestly. You can see the mood within the group visibly change as the day progresses; cheerful and chirpy are we are setting up the bikes in the car park and larking around to solemn and almost morose as we are lugging out steel steeds up yet another unrideable mountain pass. It was if life was being sucked out of us. Minute by minute. Looking back we could've been in real trouble but somehow we kept going. Eating away at the miles and rough terrain. Climbing. Carrying. Resting. Silent. Eventually we got back to tarmac. It was dark. We were tired. No... exhausted. And now we had the little matter of a road ride up Honister Pass to the car park. This would not have been a problem twelve hours ago but we were finished........but we climbed s-l-o-w-l-y up the road. Each turn of the crank hurt. We were running on empty.

I don't think I have ever been as tired and hungry as I was that day.

I'm looking at the guide book now.

Grade: Severe
Distance: 14 miles
Time: 6 hours
Terrain: High mountain passes
Surface: Steep roads and steep but generally well graded mountain tracks with some rock steps.

Repeat after me "well graded mountain tracks with some rock steps". WELL GRADED? SOME rock steps? Which route was Jeremy riding? Did he have some sort of experimental mountain bike that could levitate? Was he on drugs?

It was an experience. Not to be repeated.......well perhaps not. But I can't help but think that it would've been a little easier - just a smidge - if we hadn't been carrying movie hardware with us......

Oh sorry I almost forgot. So what does this have to do with U2? Well the chosen source for the soundtrack for this monumental mountain misery of a movie was Zooropa. So whilst the pain grew on our faces, and the miles dribbled away, we were accompanied by 'Lemon'. And since then the two are forever linked. I can't listen to that song without thinking about the setting sun as Great Gable dons it's evening shroud of darkness, and getting a slight twinge in my calf muscles, stuck in a moment that we couldn't get out of.


Monday 23 April 2012

Moseley Shoals - Ocean Colour Scene

It's a strange experience to go back to an album that you adored and to hear it again years later. It's almost like hearing it through a new set of ears - it sounds familiar but different at the same time. And that is one of the wonderful things about this little project of mine - without it I'm sure that the album would've languished on the shelf for a good few years more.

I bought 'Moseley Shoals' at the height of the Britpop explosion after seeing a couple of live performances on TV. Great guitar driven and powerful performances. Ordinarily it wouldn't have been my bag - probably a bit too rock for my tastes at the time - but I was into Britpop in a big way so a purchase was made.

In my time I have bought numerous un-characteristic albums as the result of being too into a particular scene. But maybe that is their point; to give bands that otherwise may have been overlooked a chance to get into the limelight, however fleeting. Every scene has them; fringe bands that get their fifteen minutes of fame. Take the baggy 'Madchester' scene for example. Where are 'Northside' now? Having said that 'Shall We Take A Trip' is a classic indie pop tune. Yes my shelves are littered with the casualties of various music scenes.

And then there are those that get caught in the crossfire and get bundled into a particular group of bands. Take James for example. They were around well before the 'Madchester' thing kicked off but got swept along with everyone else. It did them no harm but others were not so lucky.

So how does 'Moseley Shoals' stand up after over 10 years of being on a shelf? Surprisingly well actually. It's by no means a classic and some of the songs start to feel a little over familiar towards the end of the album but there
are some cracking songs on here; 'The Riverboat Song' and 'The Day We Caught The Train' being two obvious examples. Great singles that any band would be pleased to have in their back catalogue.

I'm probably too old to be into a particular music scene - it requires a certain amount of blind following (and buying) for it to really work. I'm far too sensible to get caught up in that nonsense now. I'm a much more discerning listener. But I do wonder whether I'll be sat in front of a hi-fi in another ten years surrounded by dozens of more out of character purchases and chuckling quietly at my
naivety. Perhaps...... No wait! Make that probably!

Sunday 22 April 2012

Sentimental Killer - Mary Coughlan

There are many important milestones in life and what they are will very much depend upon the individual. But there can be none more crucial that moving in with your life partner; whether it be into a rented flat, shared accommodation or a house of your own. It's a huge step but is fraught with complications.

If you ever visit the home of a couple there are plenty of clues as to whether this partnership is embarking upon a new journey or several miles down a long and already eventful road. Assuming you don't already know, just a quick look in around the house will reveal some crucial clues. In the kitchen - do they have two potato peelers when surely one would suffice? Are there two copies of 'The Student Cookbook'. In the living room - does the decor look co-ordinated or does it have the appearance of an explosion in a jumble sale? In the bathroom - is there only one or two toothbrush holders? Simple tell-tale signs. Nothing that would need a Serlock Holmes depth of analysis.

You see when couples first move in together they combine possessions. In intricate weaving of the everyday and mundane. Over time these are slowly replaced until one day, several years down the road, there is 'our' potato peeler, 'our' cookery books, and 'our' toothbrush holder'. With the general obsession with the big gestures these little things can be easily overlooked. But it is these little things that are important. The mortar to the bricks. The bricks that make up a life together.

But I would argue that there is one area where this merging of belongings and bric-a-brac never really gets resolved. Kitchen utensils are easily disposed of and bought anew, but the music collection remains singularly possessive. I know this because even now, when I look along the racks and racks of CDs, Tapes, Vinyl, DATs and MiniDiscs I still have my music and Sarah has hers; those that were brought into the relationship. Before Graeme. Before Sarah. Before Us. CDs of which I will never know the full history; the story of how they were bought, where they were listened to and where they've been. But that's ok. It just means that there are still things to know, to talk about.

So if you ever get to view the music collection of a couple it might just look at little eclectic - a bit schizophrenic even. That is why, if you ever gaze at our CD racks, you will see Chris Izaak sitting alongside INXS, Carole King next to Kingmaker, Joan Armatrading leaning on Arcade Fire, Take That rubbing shoulders with Talking Heads and Mary Coughlan next to the Cowboy Junkies. I won't divulge whose CDs are whose but there they are; collected, collated and combined but still very much separate. Each with their own story of how they came to be there. Stories that are waiting to be told and discovered.


Saturday 21 April 2012

Absent Friends - The Divine Comedy

I really want to like this album. I always have since I bought it in a whirlwind shopping spree in Woolworths. Everything points to me liking it; interesting and witty lyrics, off kilter music, strings and a great voice. But somehow the constituent parts fail to hit the right chord. "It's not you, it's me", I keep thinking whilst putting the CD back on the shelf. And there it will sit for another twelve months or so. Then, after what surely must be a reasonable period of respite I'll give it another go.

And so this morning, there I was in my pyjamas starting at the CD spine of 'Absent Friends'. "Perhaps today will be the day my troublesome friend", I think to myself.

"And so prising the CD from its dusty resting place, he slips it into the CD drawer, sits down with a cup of tea and presses play. He thinks, optimistically, today may be the day", says the voice of my inner monologue. We all have then don't we?

There is no doubting that 'Absent Friends' is dramatic stuff; powerful strings and great, resonant vocals.....but within seconds a familiar feeling begins to well up inside. I cringe. Mmmm not a good sign. But I press on undeterred. By the time the CD gets to 'The Wreck of the Beautiful', I'm absent mindedly messing with my phone and my attention has drifted off somewhere else. "Blast! I must concentrate", I tell myself, putting the phone down and staring at the speakers as if they were truculent children. 'The Happy Goth', helps me maintain my attention. It's quite an amusing premise for a pop song. Chuckling to myself the album speeds towards the end. Thankfully.

So as the last few notes of 'Charmed Life' drift across the room and out of the door I'm still non the wiser. Yes I recognise the skill that has gone into making the album. I really do appreciate the lyrics but..... it made me cringe. Surely records aren't supposed to do that? And then it hits me! I know what the problem is! It's obvious when you think about it! It sounds like the soundtrack to a musical. And I hate musicals. With a passion. As soon as one appears on TV I'd rather be in another county. I fully realise that it's not a rational reaction, after all they are just like normal films but with singing - a bit like 'A Hard Day's Night'. But somehow they are different. Maybe it the fact that lyrics have been shoehorned into a melody; a melody that has been bent, twisted and cajoled into fitting around the lyrics. Lyrics that, for no particular reason other than they need a song in this scene, describe what we can blatantly see for ourselves. If only they had bothered to write a decent script. Or it could be the false bonhomie that precedes the songs. False bonhomie followed by a character repeating a line several times. Have they lost their mind? Then music starts....ahhhh they haven't lost their rminds but they are about to burst into song. In musicals this is perfectly acceptable behaviour. If you or I were to burst into song in the middle of our working day, signing along to an imagined orchestra that no-one else can hear, we'd probably get as far as the first chorus before we were carted away. Where is the music coming from? Have none of the other characters noticed that their on screen partners have started to si......oh now they are joining in. Why? How do they know the words? Have they been practicing in case only song can describe how they are feeling. AARRGGH MUSICALS -  I HATE THEM!!!!....... Unless of course you count 'The Blues Brothers'

So I think that is it. 'Absent Friends' reminds me of songs from a musical. It's irrational, illogical and over the top. But at least now I know, "It's not you, it's me".


Friday 20 April 2012

Reckoning - R.E.M.

'Reckoning'....in which our heroes negotiate the dreaded Second Album Syndrome with aplomb and create a stonker of an album. A classic.......but that is not the topic of today's blog.

What has struck me on this odyssey through my record collection is how often a memory will spring to mind. These are usually no more than snippets of thoughts. Crumbs of consciousness that appear and then disappear, often as quickly as they arrived. It can take no more than a fleeting glance at a CD to trigger the thought. But these fragments pose a problem - they are not substantial enough to write a whole piece about but are valid nonetheless. One such moment occurred when I pulled this off the shelf this morning.....

....PW, KC and myself sitting in Princes Street Gardens in Edinburgh in the sun, chatting and looking over our purchases from the morning's shopping trip. KC had bought a dual play cassette with 'Reckoning' and 'Murmur' whilst I had bought 'London's Calling' by The Clash. Why has that particular moment chosen to lodge itself in my memory? Why do I, sub-consciously at least, consider this to be important enough to store for nearly twenty years? Then again perhaps I have go it totally wrong and my mind is playing tricks on me. Maybe it was 'Reckoning' and 'Lifes Rich Pageant'!

And then there are the huge, leviathan sized memories that are etched into my mind. These are the life changing, pivotal moments that determine the path you are about to spend the rest of your life following. Not bad for a little piece of plastic. Hearing 'Don't Go Back To Rockville' will always remind me of one of those moments....

In 1993 I had graduated as a Civil Engineer and was desperately looking for an employer stupid enough to place enough trust in me and give me a job. Unfortunately my timing was lousy - the construction industry had hit one of its low points and jobs were scarce. Very scarce - there were typically a hundred applicants for each post. Not great odds and my hope of finding a job was diminishing with every passing week. Then, unexpectedly, I was invited for interview at Gloucestershire County Council and so made the long train trip south. It was a long way. Or at least it was to someone who you could not exactly describe as well travelled. Sure I had been on an Inter-rail holiday a few years earlier but that was for fun and with mates. This was alone - as if I was stepping out into the big bad world.

The interview went very well and I was confident that I would be offered a position. I was confident of the fact but it brought with it very mixed emotions; pleased that I had done well but terrified at having to make a life changing decision. The journey back was going to be restless. So to relax, I popped 'The Best Of R.E.M.' (The IRS version if anyone is interested) into my portable CD player and tried to take my mind of it all. Except I couldn't. I knew I was going to have to make a decision sooner or later. A huge, monstrous, life changing, career creating, gut wrenching decision. I was not used to this. I began to make mental notes of the implications of upping sticks and moving several hundred miles south. Where would I live? Would I make new friends? Would I be able to visit home often enough? I'm sure that there are some world weary travellers reading this; people who have crossed continents and oceans for employment, but to me this might as well have been Kuala Lumpur. And it was in the south. I'd have been less bothered I'm sure if I was contemplating a move northwards. We northerners just didn't get on with our funny cousins from the south. They talked differently, liked 'Rugger', ate fondue at 'dinner parties' and had flat,warm beer.

It was certainly a quandary and one that was vexing. The CD changed track and Michael Stipe started singing;


"Looking at your watch a third time
Waiting in the station for the bus
Going to a place that's far
So far away and if that's not enough
Going where nobody says hello
They don't talk to anybody they don't know....



.....But everybody else in town only wants
To bring you down and that's not how it ought to be"



Blimey he could've been talking straight to me! My mind was made up, I would turn the offer down. Only I could be interviewed, determine all my life's potential paths and turn a job down (before being offered it) in the same day. But R.E.M. had spoken and my mind was made up. Phew! I was really pleased that I had thought the problem through and came to a decision; albeit one that was determined, not by the flip of a coin, but by the spinning of a disc. That's progress I suppose.


The offer did come in several days later and I was true to my word. I turned it down. I turned down an offer of a job in a time when they were like rocking horse.... you get the idea. I can only be thankful that I had supportive parents. When I told PW's dad I think the words were, "What have you done that for you nugget?". I assured him that another job would come my way sooner or later. Looking back I had no reason to be this confident but confident I was.


And then several weeks later I was invited for interview with Leeds City Council and the rest, as they say, is history.........















Thursday 19 April 2012

Exorcising Ghosts - Japan

This may come as a surprise, but I wasn't always the knowledgeable and upstanding person that you see before you. And when you have recovered from that shock I'll explain;

From time to time, and particularly at Christmas, I would receive record tokens as gifts and these were one of the most cherished items that I could receive. Cherished because it meant that I could visit the record shop and peruse the racks and racks of vinyl, getting lost in the dazzling colours, typefaces, graphics and photography of the sleeve designs. But as ever there were choices to be made; a finite number of tokens meant a finite number of records. How on earth was one expected to choose? There was always going to be at least one essential purchase that was going to have to be left on the shelf. Anyway on one particular post Christmas trip I went into town and started to whittle down the lucky records that would be coming home with me. And there it was. Probably the most perfect 7" sleeve I had ever seen; 'Ghosts' by Japan. I'd heard it on the radio a few times and I was captivated and excited in equal measure by the haunting vocal and minimalist synth. It was snatched and put in the basket with the other lucky vinyl discs.

'Ghosts' would go on to be given increasingly frequent spins on my orange record player. Spooky, moody and utterly original. But, as far as Japan were concerned, that was as far as my knowledge went. I'd heard a few other tracks on the radio but had not yet made a purchase.

Many years later my knowledge was no greater and then I came across a copy of this CD in a second hand record shop. I picked it up and noted the title, turned it over and scanned the track listing. "Ahh this must be the album that 'Ghosts' came from", I noted to myself. So the album was bought. I was immediately impressed with the number of tracks I had heard before. "Wow this is a cracking album", I mused. And so for the next fifteen years I happily assumed that 'Exorcising Ghosts' was a proper album with track after track of top, albeit miserable, pop synth tunes. How should I know any different?

So it came as a real surprise a few months ago, when I was flicking through Wikipedia, to learn that it is in fact a compilation album. Idiot. Me not you. With that knowledge in mind, the clues seem rather obvious; the fact that I knew a lot of the songs, the rather rubbish pun as a title and the quality of the songs. But I blame the band - most others have the decency to name their greatest hits 'Greatest Hits'. Unambiguous, clear and economic. I'd even settle for 'The Best Of' as that also allows in non-hit songs. But at least I now know. My ignorance in this department is resolved.....but I started to wonder. How many other albums in my collection are greatest hits? What if this was not a one off occurrence. Were there other embarrassments lying in wait to catch my unawares. Great now I have to add paranoia to my list..........

Wednesday 18 April 2012

Golden Ocean - 50ft Wave

I like think that I'm, if not a model employee, then I am at least loyal. Well a little bit anyway. I think. So far I've only had four employers and, ignoring the year I spent training, the shortest time I have been with any one of those is five years. I'm not after an award or anything but I know colleagues that have changed jobs almost as many times as they have changed their underpants. In some cases that may not be a truly useful measure but for those who personal hygiene is important that's a lot of job changes. I really don't know anyone who changes job regularly copes. It seems to me that I'm just getting settled and used to my surroundings when I pass the four year anniversary of my employment. It takes me at least a year to remember the names of my colleagues so I can only begin to imagine the chaos that would ensue if I were to change jobs more frequently. I'd probably end up travelling to the wrong office at least once a week; probably a Monday morning when I'm more bleary eyed and less enthusiastic about the week ahead.

So against this backdrop, moving jobs for me is quite traumatic; traumatic because I'm about to enter a new working environment and meet new colleagues but also traumatic because what if we have nothing in common? It's true that we Civil Engineers are not exactly a gregarious bunch but we are a little odd. We must be to do what we do....

For a self confessed music obsessive there is only really one thing that matters when meeting new colleagues. Do they like music? Or more accurately do they like 'proper' music? Or to be pin-point, laser guided, hole-in-one accurate, do they like the music that I like? And it doesn't take me long to find out. I have a knack for guessing what kind of music people listen to. The clues are everywhere. It has become such a honed skill that I can identify what their listening tastes are just by looking at their clothing - I once identified a Genesis fan just from the type of jumper they were wearing. I should go on the stage I really should.

So when in 2002, in the middle of the World Cup, I arrived at City of York Council music was occupying my mind rather than football. Despite the office being football mad, it didn't take me long to identify a kindred spirit. JW, it transpired, was a fan of The Smiths, Cure, Throwing Muses, New Order........ and we were soon swapping and recommending music. Yes I was going to be alright at my new home.

50ft Wave were a band that JW 'discovered' and recommended, knowing that I was a fan of American Alt-Rock. But blimey this is one angry record. The preceding EP sort of hinted at a fury, but the album is full-on, don't mess with me, I'll break your bones kind of anger. Indeed, as one particular lyric suggests, "Bones are made for breaking". Yikes! With heavily distorted guitars and half-shouted vocals it's not an album to help you drift off to sleep, play at dinner parties or use as music in a shopping mall. I'm even not entirely sure it was ideal listening this morning at 6:45am. Healthier than a shot of coffee though. But I like it and as soon as I find someone who I know will appreciate it, I'll pluck up the courage and recommend it.... after all that is what friends are for.




Tuesday 17 April 2012

Boomslang - Johnny Marr + The Healers

I'm normally feel quite blasé when I hear news that one half of a once successful writing partnership decides it's time to unleash their solo efforts on an unsuspecting audience. I mean if Paul Simon can make the break away from his more talented parter Art Garfunkel then I'm sure anyone can so it. Tsscchh there was Paul Simon being carried along by Art Garfunkel whilst getting all the applause. The very cheek of it. Still at least Garfunkel had the last laugh by writing the most successful post Simon and Garfunkel song, 'Bright Eyes'. But when the news that Johnny Marr was going to release a new album I started to become nervous. This was the big one. A true Premiership event, if you pardon me the rather clumsy football metaphor.Sure he had been in bands since The Smiths split, but this was the first one to carry his name out front, albeit accompanied by his band name. And it was announced that he was going to be responsible for the writing and vocal duties. How on earth would JM cope without his inspirational writing partner? Could he sing? Maybe he'd forgotten how the play the guitar? What if the album was awful? What it?....... what if?............ what if?...........

So many questions. But these were all answered, at least in part, when I managed to scoop a copy of a promo track 'Down On The Corner' from the internet (for evaluation purposes only). I needn't have worried - it was a top track with great acoustic guitars and soaring vocals. I was now confident that the following album would be class.... and I was mostly right. It's far from a classic but a disaster was averted.

Actually it's a little surprising that the album is a relatively straight forward rock-pop affair. Jangly guitars are rather scarce and have been replaced by crunching rock riffs. And as far as the vocals go... well JM is not going to win any awards but his voice suits the songs nicely. 'Down on the Corner' is still the best song (although the album version is inferior, in my opinion, to the promo version) but this is closely followed by 'The Last Ride' and 'Long Gone'.

....and trivia fans. The drummer on this album in none other than Zak Starkey, or Ringo Jr if you prefer. So an album with true predigree. Sort of.


Monday 16 April 2012

Travelling Without Moving - Jamiroquai

I can't help think that when an artist is better known for his extra-curricular antics than his 'day job' something has gone wrong somewhere. In some cases, alright many cases, this does not really matter as the original 'package' was not that good in the first place. I'm not sure the same is true for Jamiroquai, or at least Jay Kay the band's frontman. He is probably now better know for liking, and it has to be said crashing, fast cars. Although he only did this once, it was a purple Lamborghini. That sort of thing sticks in the collective consciousness. Purple! In some way this has diminished their musical achievements and gained him the reputation as the 'Twat In The Hat'. Funny but a little unfair.

All this could've been avoided if he'd got his fast car thrills in the same way most adolescent boys (and men) do; in a video game. It has the advantage of bring much safer, a lot cheaper and there is absolutely no way that you can lose your licence. A win-win situation. It could also be argued that if he'd spent more time doing this then he might have gained some insight into how to avoid crashing. Then again maybe not.

To the rest of us mere mortals, the nearest way to recreate the Jay Kay experience circa 1996 was to grab a copy of Ridge Racer for the Playstation. Using that game, letting it finish loading and then swapping the game disc for a copy of this album you could speed around the course whilst listening to 'Cosmic Girl'. You could crash all you wanted and still walk away with your dignity and legs intact. What more could you want for fast thrills.

If you like your funk electric then you could do worse than this album, providing you can overlook the TIAH (I'm trying to keep the sweary language to a minimum) references. It's a tight and rhythmic collection of funk-reggae-pop-instrumental-hybrid kind of stuff. By far the best tracks are the two singles 'Virtual Insanity' and 'Cosmic Girl' but the rest are an interesting and varied bunch.

The creation of custom playlists in video games have made it far easier to recreate the Jay Kay experience so go for it; buy a game, burn some tracks to your console and off you go. For the full experience wear a piece of inappropriate headgear. Just remember to take it off before you go out into public. After all the world only really needs one TIAH.

Sunday 15 April 2012

Shapes and Shadows - Ben Ottewell

Although I would never admit to it, I think I started to play guitar to look cool and pick up chicks. If I could travel back to speak to myself at the tender age of 17 I would advise against it for the following two reasons; Firstly women are not that shallow or stupid and secondly playing the guitar, properly at least, is really hard and requires a lot of practice. And as for looking cool. Well that's darn impossible!

The image of a cool guitarist to a 17 year old is probably something like this; excruciatingly long solos using every single fret on the instrument, performed with one leg raised on a monitor speaker, long hair and leather trousers. Just think of your 'average' heavy rock or metal shredder and you'll get the picture. In practice, however, a cool guitarist looks exactly the opposite. Isn't it way cooler to not show off, not rest your leg on the monitor speaker, keep the showy stuff to a minimum but write good music and play really well? Something like Ben Ottewell. You'll never come across a more unlikely guitar hero but that is exactly what he is. I'd be surprised if he even owns a pair of leather trousers.

I've seen Ben play a couple of times; once at the Sage in Gateshead and the other in a small venue in York. And both times I have been amazed at the quality of his playing and songwriting - I sort of knew this from his playing with Gomez but to hear and see it in isolation was..... well amazing.

On this album, his debut of sorts, the playing ranges from straight forward pop to intricate acoustic fingerpicking such as on 'Blackbird'. Great stuff. But not showy. And then there is that voice - sometimes tender and other times a bluesy howl but always with great depth and warmth. So move over Van Halen, Joe Satriani and Kirk Hammett. Your time is up - the real cool guys are taking over.....




Saturday 14 April 2012

Love - Aztec Camera

I got so much stick from my mates for liking Aztec Camera and in particular this album. At the time I couldn't understand why as I thought that it was a well written, stylish guitar pop album with a super clean and slick production. What were people getting so upset about?

Listening to it again today, nearly twenty years on, I can sort of see why I got so much ribbing. It is a very slick and very clean album, almost to the point of being saccharine. Very nice songs, played very nicely and nicely produced. There is not a single rough edge and it all sounds so calculated. Compare this album to other acclaimed albums of the time, say by The Smiths and The Cure, and I can see how jarring this must've been. It was not alternative, innovative or remotely 'interesting'. It was an album made with a sole purpose - to break into the american market. Unfortunately sacrificing originality for american radio friendly, easy listening pop music. The experiment didn't work and the album, taken out of context, remains a bit of an oddity in Aztec Camera's discography; a super glossy album with very american production.

...but having said all that, I still quite like it. Maybe I have a soft spot for this album despite it giving me so much grief. Maybe I like the nostalgic glow it gives off or just maybe there are some songs on there that are worth a listen. Oops - there I go again defending it. It's a habit that's hard to break!




Friday 13 April 2012

Velveteen - Transvision Vamp

Surely the reason mankind invented video recorders was to tape the music videos of Transvision Vamp? Not sure exactly why, but they were compelling to watch. And re-watch. And re-watch. It got to the point where me and my mates knew the songs better than Wendy James herself.

And what a front woman she was. Not exactly blessed with the greatest voice ever, but since when in rock and pop music did that matter? Exactly. What she had in spades though was attitude. And the ability to wear her clothes inside out. Actually when I think about it, in the 80s there was a spate of women who chose to wear their clothing the wrong way round. Madonna started it and then it was closely followed by Cyndy Lauper. Wendy James got in on the act in the late 80s, appearing on TV and in their music videos with her undies on the outside! A bit like Superman. But with more special powers. What was it that sparked this trend of reverse layering? Maybe it was more comfortable that way? If so then surely the manufacturers of such garments were getting it hopelessly wrong. Perhaps it was for practical reasons - with your undies on the outside they'd be less inclined to get mucky, and had the advantage that they could be changed without getting undressed. Whatever the reason, it was effective. Especially on us males who, up to this point, had no idea that it was acceptable to dress this way. But only for women. Imagine the uproar if males started wearing their duds on the outside of their trousers. Questions would be asked in Parliament and the Daily Mail would be outraged (as usual). Thankfully it has never taken off, and we can all only be grateful for that. Let's be honest, mens undies aren't that nice. Somehow I don't think that David Bowie would've been that popular if he'd been regularly photographed with a set of briefs over his spandex. Your average bloke's undies are worn through, washed out and a bit grubby. And that is before they have been worn. I can only think of one exception, putting the fictional Superman to one side for now, and that is the guy from Cameo. But his was a cod-piece and it was plastic. So that's cheating.

This album from The Vamp is not all that bad. I was pleasantly surprised when I slipped on this morning. It is certainly bubblegum pop and they appear to have written pastiche versions of existing songs; take the hit 'Baby I Don't Care' for example. Chords ripped from numerous sources and lightweight lyrics. But it is played with such joie de vivre that it doesn't really matter. And that is the last time I will use joie de vivre on these pages. So ignore the paper thin vocals and enjoy the 45 minutes of pop pastiche fun. Right I'm off to YouTube to find those videos.....


Thursday 12 April 2012

The Airborne Toxic Event

If you were going to think up a band name then there can't be many better than The Airborne Toxic Event. Only bettered by 'The Lemon Squeezy Goat Scrubbers'. Except if your job is to design clothing for these bands. You're gonna need a pretty big t-shirt to fit those names on!

Although time had dulled my memory, I seem to recall that 'The Lemon Squeezy Goat Scrubbers' were a bit hit at 6th Form. Then again my memory is not what it used to be! But who could forget their cover of U2's 'Silver and Gold'. It was it the Dublin quartet were right in front of you. Except U2 didn't do mimes to the sing lyrics. They were missing a trick there me thinks. Can you imagine just how much more emotion could've been wrung out of 'With Or Without You' if Bono had accompanied the song with a short mine. Wow!

Anyway, this album was a bit of a surprise hit with me - I was not expecting to like it. Mainly due to my prejudice about anything that I haven't found out for myself and.....well that was it really. It still has a faint whiff of American college rock but that didn't do my beloved R.E.M. any harm. The real stormers are 'Gasoline' and the closing 'Innocence'.

So before they decided to change their name check out Toxic Airborne Event. Marvel at how original the name is and thank whoever you hold in high enough esteem that you're not a merchandise makers. How on earth is that going to fit on a skinny T-Shirt?

Wednesday 11 April 2012

Lovegod - The Soup Dragons

In 1989 a dangerous and potentially career threatening craze hit the streets. Although it was not a new phenomenon, the rate at which people started to participate; people who you would've thought to be sensible and level headed, accelerated to lethal levels. By the time 1990 rolled around 'Bandwagon Jumping' was in full flow and started to claim victims at an alarming level. One such victim was a indie band called The Soup Dragons.

The Soup Dragons were, prior to their involvement in this deadliest of sports, an indie guitar band from Glasgow. They had enjoyed modest success with their debut album 'This Is Our Art' and had a promising career ahead of them. Then, when everyone was least expectining it, the 'baggy' scene rushed onto the airwaves. It was everywhere and soon spread to clothing, art, TV and confectionary. Probably. To be cool you had to be Baggy. To sell records you had to be Baggy. The Soup Dragons were not, it has to be said, Baggy as their music was decidedly tight. So they did the only thing they could and introduced dance beats into the fledgling following up album. All of a sudden they were Baggy. Hurrah! And you could hardly see the joins. A few eagle-eyed music critics commented that this was a sudden change in direction, but this was brushed off by the band's leader Sean Dickson saying, "Nah! We were already heading in that direction anyway - we'd already bought a drum machine and everything. Honest". Everyone was convinced and went home happy.

'Lovegod', on it's first airing in many a year, has not really stood the test of time well as it's shortcomings are even more glaring. At the time it sounded like an incomplete album - the tracks were well written but had a sort of unfinished quality -  with the kernel of a decent idea but not properly developed. Perhaps they had been too keen to get the record out and get themselves on the Baggy Bandwagon? Even their huge hit 'I'm Free', a heartfelt paean to Mr Humphries from 'Are You Being Served', was missing from the original pressings. Perhaps more evidence to suggest that a little wagon jumping had taken place?

But I still like the album despite its flaws. It reminds me of a time when music was fresh and exciting and of a time when major indie bands would descend upon Middlesbrough Town Hall. We saw The Soup Dragons a fair few times but arguably the most memorable time was when we didn't see them - we had tickets for a special New Year concert in Glasgow. It was going to be great; they were at their peak and this was their hometown gig. Unfortunately my travelling and gig going partner decided that he'd rather spend a night in Hartlepool General Hospital. Ah well. All's fair in rock 'n' roll.





Tuesday 10 April 2012

People - Hothouse Flowers

Hothouse Flowers musical career was doomed from the moment they were claimed to be 'the next U2'. Not by the band themselves, I hasten to add, but by the' all-knowing' music critics. And who were we to disagree?

So what did Hothouse Flowers actually do to have this praise heaped upon them? Well to understand this you had to be a music fan in the back end of the 1980s. By 1988 U2 were riding high; The Joshua Tree had been released and they had embarked upon a stadium filling world tour. In short they were huge; filling arenas and selling albums by the 'Bucketload'. And just how many albums is that? Lots!

For those who are unfamiliar with quantitive terms for music sales it is a carefully thought-out method of measurement. The smallest amount is a 'Handfull'. This is usually reserved for relatively unsuccessful debut albums or experimental singles; usually heard in phrases such as "....[insert band name here] then released a challenging third single which, due to its non-radio friendly running length only notched up a handfull of sales". So it is rather a derogatory term. Any sales exceeding a 'Handfull' are classed as a 'Caseload'. Obviously this will depend upon the size and type of case being used but the phrase generally means more than a few; for example "Due to the popularity of the movie, the accompanying album sold by the caseload". The next point on the scale is a 'Bucketfull'. Clearly at this stage the artist in question is doing rather well and likely to be filling arenas and selling out tours. It is an envious position and one in which U2 found themselves in 1988. Whilst the majority of recording artists would be content to regularly sell 'Bucketloads' some go on to exceed even this humongous amount. For the select few their popularity would see their sales continue to rise to truly mammoth proportions. These are of course known as being able to sell albums by the 'Shedload'..... Sorry but I fear that I have digressed somewhat....

So against this backdrop, Hothouse Flowers were thrust onto the world stage. Their similarity to U2 was uncanny. Firstly they were from Ireland. Secondly they played instruments. And Thirdly.....err they had legs? Yes in the heady times of the late 1980s all you needed to be classed as the 'the next U2' was to be from the same country, alive and have a passing interest in music. Mind you, the search for the 'the next U2' got really out of hand when in 2000 even U2 were touted as being 'the next U2'. It all got so confusing that Bono somehow ended up re-applying for his own job. Apparently actually being in U2 was no longer sufficient to meet the demands of the wider U2 market as the search for 'the next U2' reached frenzied proportions.

So despite a solid debut album there was no way that Hothouse Flowers could've lived up to expectations. They were not, and I expect did not want to be, 'the next U2' as the U2 role was already filled with no signs of it ever being vacated. Instead they wanted to be a hard working and talented celtic tinged rock band. Which is, rather handily, what they were. Unfortunately for the press this was not acceptable so they continued to make pointless comparisons to their fellow compatriots.

Fortunately for new bands on the scene, the search for 'the next U2' has abated; in part due to the decline of the popularity of U2 but also because no-one is exactly sure what 'the next U2' should sound like. Sensing a gap in the comparison market, the 'all-knowing critics' have pushed ahead unbounded. So instead of a singular comparison we are now often presented with 'the next Adele', 'the next Amy Winehouse', 'the next Artic Monkeys' or 'the next Justin Bieber'. Strangely enough no-one has ever been touted as 'the next Phil Collins', but I suspect that it's only a matter of time.......






Monday 9 April 2012

Revelation Road - Shelby Lynne

I don't think I have ever seen a performer more angry and moody as Shelby Lynne when she appeared at Middlesbrough Town Hall earlier this year. She was angrier that John Lydon and Miles Hunt put together. I would go as far as to say that if they came across her when she was like this they, terrified for their own safety, would've quietly sloped off to avoid further scorn. Ooh she was in a mood. But why?

Maybe she had just heard some bad news or lost some money on the 2:15 at Wetherby. Perhaps she'd misplaced her favourite jumper and was struggling in the inclement northern weather? Or had she baked some scones only to find out that they were over cooked? Maybe all of the above? But I don't think so.

I have a sneaking suspicion that she was dismayed to be standing on a tiny stage in Middlesbrough whilst fifty people or so looked on. I think I was as surprised as her that she was playing a tiny venue in the Boro. I was equally surprised to be able to get tickets just a week or so before the gig. Something or, perhaps more accurately, someone had cocked up. Big time. I imagine the fury that was visible on stage was aimed at someone..... and being on the receiving end would not have been pleasant.

Still, as a consummate professional, she delivered the set with great passion and playing. And what a voice. Her records don't do it justice. Crystal clear, powerful and with great depth. Songs from this album, and some earlier tracks, really came to life. Amazing.

Just as impressive is this album. Shelby wrote and played almost very instrument on it. Covering very personal topics it's not a party album but it is beautifully moody and melancholic.

Speaking of moody, I hope that her mood improved for the following gigs - and that whoever had upset her was well out of range when she finished the set. I didn't hear any press reports of disturbances in the Teesside area so perhaps things had improved.....

Sunday 8 April 2012

Jeff Wayne's Musical Version Of War Of The Worlds

Eggs. This album reminds me of eggs. Well to be more precise, hard boiled and decorated eggs. It might seem strange to some that a concept album from 1978 reminds anyone of avian ovulations but I can explain.......

You see, it all started with a simple celebration of Easter in my Primary School and an equally simple competition. Quite an innocuous event some might think, but to me (well my Dad) it was the most sterling test of my education to date. Forget mathematics, english or...... colouring in. This was the big one. I don't think I am understating it to suggest that failure at this point would've held back my academic development by several years. So what was this simple but potentially life changing event........we had to decorate a hard boiled egg!

I was determined (well my Dad was) to give a good account of myself (himself) and snatch the top prize. But what could we (he) use as a theme for this competition. What theme would lend itself to an egg based structure? This was a tough one. We (he) wanted to avoid the usual chick / animal / bee / eye entries. These were becoming almost traditional and therefore should be avoided at all costs. So instead we (he) needed something that had not been done before. So we sat down at our dining room table and slowly and surely we drew our plans against them.

THAT WAS IT!! We would use the egg as a body of a Martian War Machine! It was perfect. The humble hard boiled egg transformed into a pure, evil Martian fighting machine. With surreptitious use of everyday household items this might just be possible. So by adding a lampshade frame, the obligatory pipe cleaner, tin foil and a small model of a frigate the transformation was complete. Behold as an ordinary hard boiled egg (large) was cunningly disguised as a metal war machine. Behold as the tin foil provided the shimmer of the ocean. Behold as the red pipe cleaner became a martian ray bearing down on the helpless frigate below. Behold the destruction, devastation and tragedy of the human race........

....and behold the annoyance when yet another bloody bee won the competition! Actually I can't remember what happened but I am still yet to see a more effective and .... well downright cool entry into an egg painting competition.

And this was the album that inspired it. When I was around nine, this was my latest obsession. From hearing Richard Burton's opening dialogue I was well and truly hooked;

No one would have believed, in the last years of the
nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched from the timeless worlds
of space.



No one could have dreamed we were being scrutinized, as someone with a microscope
studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered
the possibility of life on other planets and yet, across the gulf of space, minds
immeasurably superior to ours regarded this Earth with envious eyes, and slowly and
surely, they drew their plans against us......


Wow! To a nine year old this was powerful stuff. And so the album became a regular feature in our playlist at home. It was stirring stuff and it's no wonder it inspired me (and my Dad) to create a hard boiled egg based homage. It's hard to imagine how anyone, not even the great Jeff Wayne himself, would have thought that the album would advance the art of decorating eggs to new heights. And how against all the odds, simple everyday items could be used in such an effective way making any subsequent attempts at egg based art obsolete. Now that would make for a great story and 70s prog rock concept album!





Saturday 7 April 2012

Slowhand - Eric Clapton

How do you solve a problem like Eric? There can't be many recording artists who have had a career as tumultuous as Clapton. There have been many highs but these have been offset by some dark low points.

There have been sublime recordings, such as his stuff with the Yardbreakers, classic rock anthems, such as 'Layla' (which I personally can't stand) and commercial pop albums, such as 'August'.

BUT there are some really awful moments in there too. Not least as his racist remarks about immigration. He has since stated that he didn't mean it literally. Mmmm nice try Eric. And then there are the personal yet slightly mawkish ballads, mundane pop albums, collaborations with big Phil..... A mass of contradictions. Can you ignore the low points, or more to the point should you? At which point does he get let off the hook?

Listening to 'Slowhand' again today I can't quite help wondering how someone who is so talented; so talented that they were even compared to God, can make so many missteps. And these were not just any ordinary missteps. It is hard to comprehend how someone whose influences are so rooted in African-American music, particularly blues and folk, could have even contemplated voicing such opinions as he did on stage in Birmingham in 1976.

But putting that to one side for now, 'Slowhand' is a strange hybrid of an album. Part blues, part rock and part pop. When firing on all cylinders the effect is mesmerising, such as on 'Cocaine' and 'The Core'. Then there is the classic 'Wonderful Tonight'. I can see why it is cited as a classic but I've heard it at least thirty times too many. A bit saccharine for my tastes.

Elsewhere on the album there are laid back blues, slide guitar and easy listening instrumentals. A strange brew.

But despite its faults, I still like this album as it holds a certain sentimental value. First came across it when I was investigating his back catalogue, having hired the CD from Alpha Video in Hartlepool. It was a great way to audition music before making a purchase..... well after making a copy onto cassette, listening for several years, finding a job, buying a house, waiting for Internet retail to take off and then buying secondhand on Amazon.

Friday 6 April 2012

You Could Have It So Much Better - Franz Ferdinand

If I'd mentioned that I was going to include a Franz Ferdinand album in the blog, I bet 99% of those who were interested would've assumed that it would be their debut. The remaining 1% are either lying or being far too clever for their own good.

But why would most people assume it would've been their debut? The follow up was equally, if not more successful, and spawned some very strong singles. Maybe it's the dreaded difficult second album syndrome. It could be, although sales would suggest otherwise.

No, I think it is just the simple fact that the impact of the debut was so startling that the second, despite being a solid follow up, was never going to create that buzz that only a new band can have. And it was a great buzz. A new fresh take on punk. Punk styling but with a bit more flair. And melody. And the ability to play their instruments. Not that I'm not partial to the odd punk tune.

(Whilst I'm thinking about it I have to ask - why is it that our friends north of the border can consistently create interesting guitar pop? Franz Arab Teenage Camera.)

It must be tough for bands who have such an influential debut album. Sure they will be pleased that the long hours in practice rooms, studios and stages have finally paid off but now what do they do? They can't recreate the buzz. It's a one off deal. Never to be repeated. So they either make that experimental electronic concept album and disappear up their own backsides (hello Radiohead) or knuckle down and make a follow up that's as good as possible. And that's exactly what FF did.

So when the follow up to their debut was released I rushed out to the nearest Safeway Supernarket (oh how times have changed!) and picked it up, along with a pint of milk and some jammy dodgers, and brought it home to play.

In one fell swoop FF proved that the first was no fluke. It is very much business as usual; tight rhythms, angular guitar and rapid fire lyrics. No difficult second album here..... no that would have to wait for the third album.




Thursday 5 April 2012

The Commitments - Original Soundtrack

Ahhhh - you can't beat a bit of cod soul and R&B to start your Bank Holiday weekend. Lovely.

Obviously this album is taken from the Alan Parker movie of the same name; with a story that is set in Dublin and follows the fortunes (and misfortunes) of a bunch of musicians as they try to get their band, the self titled 'The Commitments', off the ground. Tensions, love triangles and alcohol binges ensue and eventually cause the inevitable split. It's a decent film which heavily uses soul and R&B music to tell the story of the hapless band.

Obviously I was so impressed that I rushed out the next day and bought the album. I've not heard it in a long while and...... well I'm embarrassed to say that it's not too bad. A lot of movie soundtracks don't really stand up on their own when removed from their celluloid prop. This one just about survives, but compare it to the source material and it's shortcomings are there for all to see. The playing is solid enough, as are the cast vocals, especially those of Andrew Strong, but it is a facsimile of the originals. If you were to take those songs, remove the soul and replace them with clean, modern production you might end up with something like this soundtrack.

But why did I really buy this album? Was I so enamoured with the film that I wanted an aural memento? Could it be that, as I was embarrassingly ignorant to the source material, I thought it was a good collection of R&B classics? Or was it that this was a first-date movie? I suspect that it was the latter. I can't recall how this film was picked, but for me it must've been a safe bet - combining my interest in movies with my obsession with music. But knowing me it was chosen because it would give me a good indication as to whether my date shared the same interests - and by extension whether the fledgling relationship would last?

It didn't but I don't think that it is either the movie or its soundtrack's fault.

But after spending nearly an hour in the company of this album, I'm desperate to listen to the originals. A bit like overdosing on cheap pop. It's momentarily satisfying but soon you realise that it was a mistake.