Misty Thames – and where did the water go?

Posted on November 20, 2011 by John S

The Misty River Hop 

(Obscure Led Zep pun for aficionados)

Cycling from Kew Bridge to Hammersmith today, I witnessed the battle between the fog – just a thin film of mist at two o’clock, but thickening later – and the sun, which only peeked out briefly today.

Only had my iPhone for a camera, but got one or two nice shots, especially as the sun set.

These first two are taken from Kew Bridge, facing east and west.

Heading towards Barnes Bridge, it seemed to glow in the light of the setting sun.

In Hammersmith, on the Upper Mall, I stopped as the sun shone red through the regathering mist.  It looked like an Impressionist painting and the second of the shots below, which is taken with the iPhone zoom, which reduces clarity, actually works rather well for that effect, I think.

Just scrolling right, avoiding the full-on effect of the sun, the scene takes on a different hue.

The coming together of three elements – the mist, the setting sun and the river at low tide – created a scene of great beauty.  The gentle wonder of nature.

What happened to the water?

The tide is the tide. It goes in and out.  Always has done. But I’m still in awe of the changes the river undergoes as far inland as Hammersmith and Richmond.  Last weekend I took this shot at the western end of Chiswick Mall about half an hour before high tide that day. It was about 3.30pm. The water was beginning to encroach on the street. I might have been riding through water half an hour later. The second shot was taken at about the same time today, but this time it was low tide.  Which for this section of river means no water at all! See the red rings sitting on the crate. At high tide they float in the water and the crates are nowhere to be seen. It’s the same black boat in both shots.

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Have you heard? … (4) “Garage Inc” by Metallica

Posted on November 18, 2011 by John S

As I was watching Metallica, with Lou Reed, pulverise the Velvet Underground’s “White Light/White Heat” on Jools Holland last week, my thoughts turned to the album which might be the least known of Metallica’s, but which is actually my favourite.  Heresy for any true Metallica fan because it was an album of covers, the songs that inspired the band. It was called “Garage Inc” and it was a double CD. I first heard it in 1999 when a good friend, who I will call “Dave”, bought it in Oxford HMV so we could hear it at a weekend party. We could certainly hear it! Again and again.  When I first heard it, roaring in the background, my reaction was, Wow! This really rocks, what is it? I didn’t try that hard that night to find out, but the following morning I picked up the CD and figured it out.

At that juncture I’d never been hugely into Metallica.  I’d had my metal phase in the mid -seventies, until punk came along in 1976 and blew everything apart. Ten minute songs about demons and wizards or hard lovin’ women lost their lustre at that point. And that was it for some time. I liked Metallica without knowing much about them.  “Enter Sandman” was a hit in 1991 and I checked that, but not much else.

So, I heard this rocking album and thought, I must buy this.  It was brilliant.  It was Metallica’s paean to the metal and punk music of the past which they loved.  But with their huge, scything riffs, and thrashing beats, they made the music their own.

Listen to their versions of Queen’s “Stone Cold Crazy” and Thin Lizzy’s “Whisky In The Jar. Not massively different to the originals  in structure (bearing in mind that “Whisky In The Jar” is originally an Irish folk song) but with Metallica’s piledriver riffs making them harder and harsher and faster. They go a bit soft and get out their acoustic guitars for  Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Tuesday’s Gone” and it really works.  It’s their bit of light relief – and ours.  There’s not much let up on the album.

The whole album rocks, but my favourite sequence is the one that goes “Am I Evil?”, “Blitzkrieg”,  “Breadfan”.  The first is a song by a band called Diamond Head. It’s similar to Black Sabbath.  It starts with a thudding sequence of riffs, and then twirls in to a speedy machine gun  rhythm which again recalls Black Sabbath – “Children Of The Grave”, if you know about these things.  The lyrics are daft – My mother was a witch – but it’s just so brutal. Piledriving stuff. It’s not the heaviest sound I’ve encountered – that accolade goes to Slayer, whose “Reign In Blood “Album is so heavy – and fast – that listening to more than two tracks just does your head in. But “Am I Evil?” rocks very hard indeed.

“Blitzkrieg” is an interlude, a chugging metal riff which might even make you want to dance, in a leaping up and down sort of way. There’s a hint of Dutch prog rockers, Focus’s, “Hocus Pocus” in the riff.  And then it’s “Breadfan”, a song by Budgie, a Welsh three piece band, who did their best stuff in the mid seventies – I saw them at Leicester de Montfort Hall when I was still at school. It heads off at high speed, but Metallica insert an absolutely classic metal “slow bit” in the middle, a piercing guitar solo that takes the song to another level, before it succumbs to a chuntering riff and a return to the main theme. It’s a caricature, almost, of the genre. But a brilliant one. If you are laughing, it’s with, not at.

Every song on the album is a labour of love.  It’s uncompromising and relentless. One or two are best avoided in polite company.  I can’t listen to too many tracks before I start to feel pummelled.  Beaten up and left gasping. The riffs are like chainsaws.  But it has a seam of melody too, something that many Metallica originals lack, though there are brilliant exceptions like “The Day That Never Comes” (my all time Metallica favourite).  Tunes and riffs –  you can sing along while you play your air guitar!

What could be better?

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Sportsthoughts (1)

Posted on November 13, 2011 by John S

An occasional series, mostly after a weekend of sporting delights.

England quite good shocker

And there we were – me included – extolling the virtues of the Spanish football team, ahead of their clash with England. Worshipping the tiki-taka (and hence Barcelona), positively lapping up the Sid Lowe articles in the Guardian about the overabundance of centrocampista talent available to the Seleccion.  Such evocative words – suggesting football played at a higher plane.  Xabi Alonso in Saturday’s Guardian, full of respect for the Premier league, but still bewildered by our obsession with the tackle. Saturday evening could only be an exhibition of the finer arts, the lumpen English there to provide the support act.

Er, final score, England 1 Spain 0. Yes, England 1, Spain 0. The journos and tweeters went mostly into “it’s only a friendly” mode. (Though some of the tweets were saying well played).  The stats showed Spain had 99.9999% of the possession. England were playing like Italy.  It’ll still be a disaster at Euro 2012.

Yeah, but England beat Spain 1-0. 1-0, 1-0 , 1-0!  Not 0-1, 0r 0-4, which we expected. FIFA thinks we are the fourth best team in the world.  NO-ONE in England does.  We are battered and bruised by years of shattered expectations.  Quarter finals, out on penalties, that’s the likely outcome. (That makes us top eight, but that’s not good enough – hey we won a World Cup a long time ago. And we have the Premier League and Sky Sports HD).

So how did this reversal of expectations happen? Well, England took the Jose Mourinho game plan vs Barcelona – stay deep, flood midfield, harry the centrocampistas and hit on the break –  and stuck to it. Had a few dicey moments, but until right at the end, managed to contain the Spanish waves of attack.  Maybe they weren’t at their sharpest – it was only a friendly – but they were still dangerous and they dominated possession.  But a James Milner free kick, a Darren Bent header against the post and Frankie Lampard nodding in, and we won. One-nil.

Good points for England (apart from winning).  Lescott and Jagielka (resuming the old Everton partnership) really solid at the back. Scott Parker heroic in defensive midfield. Lots of young players, like Jack Rodwell and Phil Jones doing well and getting good experience.  Against the best national team in the world. And Frank Lampard, dignified, intelligent, wearing the captain’s armband and scoring the goal, only weeks after he was being completely written off by the media.  Frank has been for so long part of the dysfunctional how-to-play-Gerrard-and-Lampard-in-the-same-team debate that his virtues can be forgotten.  Hardworking, versatile, skillful, eye for goal.  Getting on (for a footballer) but still a key man for England.  Remember he scored the goal that never was against Germany in the World Cup (only two feet over the line). At 2-2 anything could have happened.

So, an encouraging night for England. Doesn’t make us favourites for Euro 2012. But it has to boost the confidence. Leave the World Cup and the scratchy qualification behind and… believe!

The Heineken Cup – so intense!

After the England football, I switched channels to watch the last twenty minutes of Munster vs Northampton.  What a game.  So in-your-face. It was Munster 20 Northampton 18, then after a Ryan Lamb penalty, the English team 21-20 up.  It was like that at eighty minutes, but the ball was in play and Munster had it. Keeping the ball in hand, they had 41 phases before they finally engineered a position for fly half Ronan O’Gara where he could attempt a drop goal.  It was still a long way out, but he executed it perfectly.  23-21.  Heartbreaking for Northampton. Ecstasy for Munster.  The technique and patience and nerve involved in charging into a solid defence 41 times and not losing control of the ball is extraordinary.  And credit too to Northampton for holding out all that time.  The nature of rugby union, with its phases, its re-grouping and re-assault, builds a tension that is quite different to football, with its fluidity.  The nerves get shredded more in rugby, I find.

Talking of which, Quins only just inched past Connacht at the Stoop on Friday night. 25-17 in the end. I guess that as Connacht are the weakest of the Irish teams in the competition, and as Quins beat them quite easily in the Amlin last year, we weren’t expecting too much resistance.  But Connacht were excellent – a lot of pace, clever running, a solid scrum, rampaging forwards. A little ill-disciplined, which in the end was the difference, because Nick Evans kicked five penalties out of six.

It’s getting edgy now – 11 wins out of 11.  When are we going to lose?  Please don’t let it be the next game! Especially not in the Heineken. If we get past Gloucester next week, then the candidates must be Toulouse twice in December and Saracens in the Premier at Twickenham on 27 December. But y’know, the boys are looking good.  Maybe they’ll do an Arsenal. Les Invincibles.

(And then the Sarries will beat us in the play off final. Look, I’m a West Ham fan – I can’t help but expect the worst.)

Australia 21-9?

I was looking at my Twitter stream the other day, most of which is sport-related, and I saw Australia 21-9.  I assumed it was just another routine rugby league victory in the four nations, but then realised it was cricket.  Hang on, 21 for 9?  Australia?  Really? Wow! Yes!  Playing South Africa, who themselves had been shot out for 96 in their first innings.  The Aussies recovered to a mighty 47. Well done the tail enders.  But 47. Australia. What’s Going On? (With thanks to Marvin Gaye).

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Still in love with U2

Posted on November 10, 2011 by John S

Two things prompted this piece.  First I’m in the middle of writing about U2 for my book. Second, I read on an NME website post that Bono has been apologising about the band’s performance at Glastonbury, saying that amongst other things it was because he was wearing the “wrong shoes” on an ice rink – like stage.  If you saw the concert you’ll recall that the rain was absolutely hammering down at the time, so it can’t have been easy to work up a brilliant atmosphere.

Now, I still need to read the original article in Q magazine to see more of what he said, but my first reaction was, stop apologising!  I thought the concert was great, especially in the circumstances. Kicking off with three brilliant songs from “Achtung Baby”: “Even Better than The Real Thing”, “The Fly” and “Mysterious Ways”. How much better could it get? Well, it just stayed brilliant.  “One”, “Where The Streets Have No Name” and “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m looking For”. “Beautiful Day” (a little ironic in the conditions) and the three Live Aid songs from “Unforgettable Fire” at the end: “Sunday Bloody Sunday”, “Bad” and “Pride (In The Name Of Love)” at the end.  Of course at Live Aid they didn’t get to play “Pride” as Bono was dancing for too long with a woman he’d pulled out of the crowd. I didn’t twig while watching Glasto that they were making up for that by running those three songs together.

And they reached back to their early days, playing two absolute classics from their first album, “Boy”: “Out Of Control” and “I Will Follow”. For any longstanding U2 fan, the choice of songs was close to perfect.  If they’d done “New Years Day ” as a final encore I would have been completely satisfied.

I liked the way they wove snippets of other songs into the performance too.  “Jerusalem” was a bit over the top, but acknowledging Coldplay and Beyonce, other headliners, with “Yellow” and “Independent Women”,was a real act of respect.  Typical of U2.  There were bits of Bowie, the Beatles, The Clash and Curtis Mayfield, too.

There’s a book which was first published in 2006 to accompany a greatest hits selection, called “U2 by U2”.  I picked it up last year in HMV for a fiver.  I’d recommend it to anyone with any interest in the band.  It’s basically a whole load of interviews with the band about… everything.  From childhood, through all the music, to their adult lives.  It’s incredibly honest, self-critical, insightful about the music, and enthusiastic about music generally.  U2 are often portrayed as pompous and self-righteous, mainly because of Bono’s outspokenness.  But I think this is very unfair. He has used his position to argue for change in areas like third world debt. What’s wrong with that? Some of U2’s live shows went a bit over the top. So what, at least they were trying to entertain and experiment with their sound. Their love for music is transparent, they try to share it. They deserve plaudits rather than brickbats.

And so we read about Bono apologising about a concert which was actually superb. He, and the band, take the criticism seriously. I guess it’s hard not to – who isn’t hurt in some way by criticism, however unfounded? But they should always remember that they have made some of the greatest music in the history of rock’n’roll. “The Unforgettable Fire”, “The Joshua Tree”, “Achtung Baby”, “Zooropa”: is there a better run of albums? Only when you start to suggest Bowie, or Dylan, or Springsteen, or the Beatles, or Led Zep, or Radiohead, do you start to identify the company that they keep.

I really hope they remember that.

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The “veterans” take over the Thames

Posted on November 6, 2011 by John S

Joining the Thames at Kew Bridge today for a cycle down to Hammersmith, I quickly came upon an unusual scene.  The river on both sides was flanked with hundreds of boats – foursomes – all pointing upstream, poised to do something, but what? The lines started just after the bridge and went on almost down to Barnes. I checked on my iPhone and found that it was a veterans’ race from Mortlake to Putney – four and a half miles downstream.  Some of the crews looked a bit young to be classified as veterans, but maybe that’s just a reflection of my own advancing years.

Took a while for my brain to twig that yes, my iPhone did have a camera, and I took a few shots from Hammersmith Bridge and the surrounding area. See the end of this piece.  Lacking a zoom, the boats seem a bit far away, but you’ll get the picture.  I think there must have been a load of mini-races.  The first boats I saw in action seemed to be moving pretty swiftly; a few that I saw from the bridge were wavering a bit.

It reminded me of the time I tried rowing at university. I trained for a term in the summer of the second year, as part of the college football club eight.  We got to participate in a tournament called “Rowing On”, a prelude to Eights Week at Oxford when the top crews from each college slugged it out.  The best crews in Rowing On qualified for Eights Week. The rest of us had our own internal competitions.  For us footballers, beating the rugby and hockey eights was all that mattered.

It was the toughest sport I have ever taken part in.  Training was early in the morning before the best crews took over the river. Every muscle in your body seemed to have a part to play.  It was the best hangover cure I’ve ever encountered. You were ready for bed by 6pm the same day. Knackering.

Rowing On was the most intense sporting challenge I’ve undertaken.  You are going flat out for the whole length of the race.  But the intensity comes from the need for absolute concentration, because if you don’t “feather” your oars properly before they enter the water you will “catch a crab” and your boat will stop.  You will have let your entire team down.  Not like football when you can score an own goal, but go up the other end and score.  Not like cricket, when an error might put an end to your innings, but not the whole team’s. In rowing, your mistake will terminate the whole team effort. It is the ultimate team sport.

We got through – no crabs and we beat the rugby and hockey boys.  The latter crew did come to a halt. How we gloated. The muscles on my right forearm had swelled to twice the normal size.  It was the wrong arm, I should have been pulling most with the left arm, for an oar on the right hand side of the boat.  Oh well, at least I didn’t mess up.  We were dead pleased – the best of the college “joke” eights!

So, big respect for those rowers today.  Four and a half miles and all ages.  You did it!

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Have you heard? … (3) Clash reggae

Posted on November 6, 2011 by John S

The history of rock’n’roll bands turning their hands to reggae is not an edifying one.  “D’Yer Maker” off “Houses of the Holy” by Led Zeppelin is a candidate for their worst song ever. The Rolling Stones’ take of “Cherry Oh Baby” on “Black and Blue” was far from being their finest moment. There are plenty of other attempts at reggae that I don’t even want to think about. There are honourable exceptions.  Eric Clapton played a big part in bringing Bob Marley to the world’s attention with his excellent cover of “I Shot the Sheriff”. The Police fused pop and reggae to brilliant effect. “Walking on the Moon”, with its dub effects, really did sound like it was made in outer space. And Primal Scream used some heavy dub and bass techniques on songs like “Stuka” from their album, “Vanishing Point”.

But the Clash were different.  The reggae sound was absolutely integral to their music.  The reggae culture, coming together with punk in the streets of West London, under the Westway, was equally so. It was the most natural thing in the world for the Clash to take the wonderful “Police and Thieves” by Junior Murvin and turn it into one of their greatest anthems. Amid all the garage punk that personifies the first album, “The Clash”, from 1977, “Police and Thieves” stands out, taking the wistful theme of the original, a lament about the gang wars and police involvement in Kingston, Jamaica and turning it into a commentary about life in late seventies West London. Joe Strummer’s rasp and Mick Jones’s piercing guitar solo take it from reggae to an urban rocker, but the the bass and drums remain at its heart.

Even better was the single “White Man in Hammersmith Palais”, which somehow sums up what the Clash were all about.  It celebrates reggae music but also howls in frustration. Frustration that the the music in the Palais erred towards dance rather than rebellion, while the punks in another dimension were suiting themselves up for a bit of money-making.  OK, so this was a bit of Clash mythology about who were the true rebels, and they weren’t averse to a bit of dressing up;  but it was a clarion call at the time.  A call to celebrate the fusion of rock’n’roll and reggae.  Joe Strummer didn’t want to be the only white man in Hammersmith Palais. Most of all it was just a great reggae rocker.

After a lurch into rock with “Give ‘Em Enough Rope” (still a great album) , the Clash came back with “London Calling” in 1979. This was the album when they really began to branch out, taking in all the genres they loved.  Reggae was to the fore.  “Rudie Can’t Fail” was a ska beat classic, aligned with the Specials and Madness and all the other Two Tone bands. “The Guns Of Brixton” was sinister and confrontational, with the bassist, Paul Simenon taking the lead on vocals. The bass line found its way onto a brilliant fusion of dance and reggae by Beats International (featuring Norman Cook, aka Fatboy Slim) called “Dub Be Good To Me”. It was based on the SOS Band’s dance classic  “Just Be Good To Me”, with Simenon’s snaking bass giving it an extra dimension.  In  recent times Professor Green has taken “Dub Be Good For me” even further, with his “Just be Good To Green”. Great to see how music borrows and mutates to come up with fresh renditions. Finally, on ‘London Calling”, “Revolution Rock” steered to a more conscious reggae beat – it was a song that Bob Marley could easily have sung.

As a massive Clash fan, it is very tempting for me to say that “Sandinista” was the greatest Clash album of them all. A punk triple album, no less. Not one for the casual listener: therefore all the more attractive to the “real” fan.  In truth it would have made a superb single album, a really good double.  The reggae may not all have made the single album – there was too much of it – but for me, it was what made “Sandinista” special. The tune I love most is “The Crooked Beat”. As its title suggests, it features a loping bass line, which Paul Simenon (again) intones over. It’s not so much a song as a feel, a picture.  It conjures up the London streets, the office blocks, the people rushing from A to B, and a man at ease with himself just cruising through the mayhem.  Moving to the crooked, crooked beat. I don’t think they ever played it live.  It was a mood.

There was more great reggae on the album:  the jaunty “Junco Partner”, the eerie “One More Time” with its dub companion, and the echoey protest of “The Equaliser”.  “The Call Up” verged on reggae too.   The reggae rhythm was fundamental to “Sandinista”.  And it didn’t just borrow reggae: it turned it over, used it in ways that no-one had tried before.  The Clash gave as much back to reggae as they took.

“Combat Rock” didn’t advance the reggae cause, but “Ghetto Defendant” continued in the tradition of “One More Time” and “The Equaliser”.  There were a couple of other great reggae moments in the Clash history.  In between “London Calling” and “Sandinista” they released “Bankrobber” – my daddy was a bankrobber, he never hurt nobody – which was a joyous piece of music, with a wonderful dub version.  Celebration time. And then “Armagideon Time” – and dub – which featured originally on a 10 inch single called “Black Market Clash”. It was a cover of a song by a Jamaican singer, Willie Williams, which I’d never heard of. It had a kind of dark majesty, and an entrancing bass line. Needless to say, there was a magnificent dub version, called “Justice Tonight”.

When you listen to something like “Armagideon Time” and compare it with the Clash’s beginnings, like “White Riot”, you might marvel at how far, sonically, they travelled in their short career.  But at the same time it was all there from the start. The Clash, notwithstanding their rebel punk posturing, were rooted in all the sounds of seventies London. Rock’n’roll, metal, pop, R&B, dance… and reggae.  The reggae-rock-rhythm.

As Smiley Culture once sang… level vibes, seen?

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Have you heard? … (2) John Martyn

Posted on November 3, 2011 by John S

Last night I was writing about John Martyn – the late and the great John Martyn. He died in 2009 after years of health problems.  He was a really distinctive singer – and guitar player. His roots were the folk scene, but at his peak, his music encompassed so much more.  I discovered him in 1977-8 with “One World”. Two other albums, a compilation called “So Far So Good”, also from 1977, and then “Grace and Danger” in 1980, had a big impact on me. The words below are what I wrote about these three albums last night.

“One World” was an extraordinary album. It was a real mix of influences.  It came out in late 1977, the height of excitement about punk, and yet the review in NME, about this moody, atmospheric album, mixing reggae sounds with jazz and folk traditions really appealed to me. I forked out for the album and wasn’t disappointed. It was different to anything else I had in my collection, and that made it one of my most played albums for a time. 

One of the most captivating features of the album was John Martyn’s voice. It was very distinctive –  somewhere between a slur and a growl, airier than say, Tom Waits, but just as indecipherable. But it was a voice that could sound as tender as anything when he sang a song like “Couldn’t Love You More”, one of the most beautiful on the album. With the unusual voice went a striking guitar sound.  It echoed and soared and shot fragments of noise into the air like a firework pouring out its effervescent light.  In “One World”, the guitar curled around Martyn’s voice like smoke in the cold night air, as a bass carved out a gentle passage below the main action. It was late night music, reverberating, soothing and entrancing.  “A Certain Surprise'” was softly jazzy and “Small Hours” conjured up the first signs of sunrise, with the guitar gently echoing and embracing the new dawn. A keyboard entered halfway through and sounded like the trickle of a stream through the forest.  John Martyn burbled a few words that didn’t mean much, but added to the atmosphere of tentative beginnings. A few of the songs, like “Dealer” and “Smiling Stranger” had an late night funkiness, blurry and atmospheric.  Perhaps best of all, after “One World” and “Couldn’t Love You More”, was “Big Muff” which was like a cross between cool funk and dub reggae, with all sorts of weird sounds shooting in and out and Martyn growling about getting away with powder puffs. It was album that was both perfect for chilling out, and intriguing in its use of sound, in echo and dub. There wasn’t actually any reggae on it, but it sounded like a dub album.  

I went to see the great man in concert in the early eighties, quite soon after I came down to London.  It was in one of the Victoria theatres, maybe the Apollo. I wanted most of all to hear tracks from “One World” and wasn’t disappointed.  He had a vast array of guitar pedals and wrenched all sorts of sounds from them.  Of all the other guitarists I liked, I felt he was closest to Robin Trower, his guitar like another voice. He was more fluid than Trower, his songs simpler, less assertive, which gave the guitar more room to glide rather than power through; but both made their guitars sing.

“One World’ was something of a bridge between his older folkier material and later jazzy work, which edged towards tasteful easy listening musically, although the Martyn voice usually managed to rough things up a bit.  I liked “One World” so much that I felt the need to find out more about his past music, and fortunately  there was a compilation called “So Far, So Good” which was ready to oblige.  You could hear where the atmospherics on “One World” came from when you listened to the wondrous “Solid Air” and there was a hint of “Big Muff” in “I’d Rather Be The Devil”. “May You Never” and “Bless The Weather” were up there with “Solid Air” as folk tunes with a laid back jazzy edge. The jaunty acoustic stomp of “Over The Hill” sounded like it could be on the second side of “Led Zeppelin III” and “Spencer The Rover” was a traditional folk song given the blurry Martyn treatment, and beautiful for it.  I’ve heard the song sung by a few artists since, but it’s John Martyn’s version that I remember best.

On the other side of the bridge was “Grace and Danger”, which came out in 1980.  Grace is a good word here: the album had a real grace.  It was a deeply heartfelt album, full of anguished songs about Martyn’s break up with his wife and one-time singing partner, Beverley. The music was less varied than on “One Love”, but it retained the tone and sophistication of a song like “Couldn’t Love You More”.  Except this time, the titles were “Baby, Please Come Home” and “Hurt In My Heart”.  Both those songs are so gorgeous musically, all flowing bass lines, and sweet, echoey keyboards… and so sad. John Martyn is almost weeping into the microphone. That slurring voice protects us from complete breakdown. “Sweet Little Mystery” is another lament that could be the happiest love song, until you realise it’s all about missing that mystery – that’s what makes him cry.

The jazz really gets going on “Lookin’ On”, an ambient jazz tune.  It’s perhaps no surprise that Martyn’s songs, often remixed, find their way on to all sorts of jazz/dance or chillout compilations. They have that late night-early morning feel. 

And “Johnny Too Bad” took a step on from “Big Muff” and wrapped a rasping guitar around a shaky reggae beat. It worked.  It had feeling. You wouldn’t have known that it was a cover of a song by a band called The Slickers, which featured on the classic reggae soundtrack album, “The Harder They Come”.  It was operating on a different planet.  It most definitely could have been a “One World” song.  It would have slotted right in. On “Grace And Danger” it was almost a bit of light relief.

Three albums that are right up there in my favorites.  All well worth a listen if you haven’t heard them before.

Couple of videos on You Tube below.  First is “Spencer the Rover” and second is “Dealer” from “One World”, which hints at how he was using effects.

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Have you heard? … Altan (The first in the series)

Posted on October 31, 2011 by John S

I want to write some posts about bands or music that maybe not so many people have heard. Or just something that I really like.  Not because I have any great insight: rather it’s just music that I’ve stumbled upon at some stage that I think is worth sharing with others.

I’ve chosen Altan for my first post, not because their name begins with a capital “A” but because I was reminded of them as I was writing my book about my journey through music.  As I noted in my first post, I’m working through a chapter on “Celtic soul” at the moment.  Altan are the epitome of that.

The band’s roots were in County Donegal, and the name is derived from a lake in the shadow of Mount Errigal in Donegal.  They were led by singer Mairead ni Mhaonaigh and instrumentalist Frankie Kennedy (who sadly died in 1994 from cancer). They formed in 1987.  I first heard their music when they released an album called “Island Angel” in 1993.  It was just a recommendation from Q magazine, as I recall.  I was immediately struck by the depth and beauty of the album.  The songs alternated between jigs and reels and some lovely ballads.  It was the latter that really grabbed me.  Mairead ni Mhaonigh has one of those voices that is just so pure. And mystical. The second track on the album, “Brid Og Ni Mhaille” is one of those songs that is so beautiful that it absolutely doesn’t matter that I have no idea what it is about, given that it is in Gaelic.  I just know it is about love, maybe lost love, maybe a sense of exile and longing, all those things that make up the best Irish melancholy.  And if I’m wrong it doesn’t matter.  The sound is the sound of purest Celtic soul.

I bought some more Altan albums, like “Blackwater” and a greatest hits.  They didn’t have the same impact on me as “Island Angel” but only because I didn’t give them as much time.  I reckon you could start with any album and derive that same enjoyment I got from “Island Angel”, connecting for the first time with a truly authentic slice of Ireland.

Here’s a link to their website.

http://www.altan.ie/

And here’s a link to a performance of one of the songs on “Island Angel”, “Dulaman”.

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Winning ways!

Posted on October 30, 2011 by John S

Another most unusual sporting week, with all my favourite teams continuing to win, and, of course, the fallout from Man City’s 6-1 thrashing of Man Utd.

At the Stoop yesterday Quins beat Exeter 19-13 in what was easily the toughest fight they’ve had this season. Exeter’s pack was immensely strong and they had a No13 who was Lomu-like in the way he blundered through the Quins defence a couple of times. Quins had to put up some heroic defence near the end, but just held on. The difference in the end was that Nev was successful with all his kicks. One try apiece. Most of the top players had had two weeks rest while the youngsters took over for the LV Cup.  I wonder whether they were just a tad rusty.

I like the Exeter fans, in their Chief’s feathers and chanting to the bang of a drum.  Their only problem away from home is that the chant is about nothing in particular and it scanned perfectly with “Har-le-quins”, so the home fans took it over! In the good-humoured way that rugby supporters do, beer in hand.

And the Hammers, 3-2 winners against managerless Leicester (who’d sacked Sven during the week for being one or two points off the play off positions in October!). On the ridiculously late BBC Football League highlights they looked worthy winners and a new star – Sam Baldock – is emerging.  Two well-taken goals: he looks like the kind of goal-poacher that we’ve lacked for the last few years.

The Irons were also on Sky last Monday, away to Brighton, winning 1-0.  I’m sure the Brighton fans felt aggrieved – they had much more of the play.  But I liked the way that West Ham absorbed the pressure, took the goal and basically said, we are here for a routine win.  Brighton had very few shots for all the possession they had.  This is obviously the influence of Big Sam, and not in the West Ham traditional of porous defending at all. But I’ll take it!

Ah, winning ways!  Good to see brittle Arsenal getting back their confidence too. While West Ham sojourn in the Championship, Arsenal are my Premier team – the family team, and always a joy to watch, even when they are falling apart.  Yesterday at Chelsea, 5-3, what a performance!  Who scores five at Stamford Bridge? (Apart from Chelsea).  OK, it is probably only oil-moneyed Man City who will challenge the reds and the blues this season, but it’s good to see a shake up, a bit of unpredictability… and loads of goals in the most surprising places.  And one can but dream of a transformed Arsenal slipping unnoticed into the top three and pouncing right at the end of the season. An unlikely fantasy, unless Arsene bites the bullet and buys some more quality defenders and Robin van Persie stays fit; but it’s only October – still time to dream.

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Why I still love the NME

Posted on October 27, 2011 by John S

The New Musical Express…

I first started reading it in 1974-75, aged 15.  I’d been a Sounds fan, rather than NME or Melody Maker, for a while.  It did the Rock – and I was into that, the Metal, Bad Co, Robin Trower, Rory Gallagher, Status Quo. But as rock’n’roll in its short sharp form – Dr Feelgood, Eddie and the Hot Rods to the fore – started to take hold, the NME seemed to capture the mood.  I jumped ship and have never looked back.

As I grew into the sixth form and then university, the NME became my bible. It was like a friend recommending records, and you knew the recommendations were spot on.  The NME knew.  If it said something was good, it had to be worth a listen.  Of course in the seventies having a listen wasn’t quite as easy as it is now. You’d listen out on the radio, or maybe go to a record shop with a listening booth, or, what the hell, just take a chance and buy the record. That sense of anticipation about the unknown was great, though disappointment was as likely as enjoyment. Today, a quick listen on Spotify or MySpace or You Tube avoids the disasters, but the sense of excitement at the possibilities is lost. (I prefer today by the way – so much more is available and explorable and that beats the sense of the unknown).

The mid to late seventies and early eighties were the NME’s hey day.  Punk, New Wave, New Romantics, post-punk, these were almost NME creations. And indie thereafter. In those late seventies, I marvelled at the interviews that Tony Parsons and Julie Burchill and Nick Kent and Charles Shaar Murray and so many others had with all the top bands.  The Tony Parsons interviews with Bruce Springsteen and The Clash were truly inspirational to this teenager.  I couldn’t but help love the music after reading his call to arms.  Later on, in the eighties, the likes of Paul Morley and Ian Penman bamboozled us with obscure prose, but intrigued us too, and pointed us to more good sounds, be it Yello, or Joy Division, or Orange Juice, or all sorts of electro-dance.

There was also humour and and just a bit of spite.  If the NME built someone up, you could bet your life that they’d put one of the antis on to bring them down at some point. The classic for me was Television. Their first album, “Marquee Moon”, is one of the New York new wave classics. A wonderful album which is right there in the DNA of The Strokes, for example.  I think it was Nick Kent who wrote the review (I could be wrong) and it was so good that the album just had to be purchased. And it’s one of my favourite albums of all time. There’s a fragility about Tom Verlaine’s singing and his layered guitar that is truly special. You can hear a bit of Neil Young in the solos, and the Velvet Underground are obvious influences, but there is really no-one like Television.  But then the NME put Julie Burchill onto the second album, “Adventure”, and she absolutely destroyed it.  As a student with not enough money to keep on chancing it on albums, it put me right off. I didn’t get around to buying it until a couple of years ago.  And you know, she was kind of right.  It wasn’t that good – but it wasn’t as bad as she made out either.

The NME almost always got it right. There is so much music I love that the NME first pointed me towards.  Through the decades.

Fast forward to today. Friends have been wondering for some time, why are you still reading the NME?  It’s for teenagers.  OK,  maybe twenty-somethings too. Students. It’s true, that is the NME demographic that the marketing men would pinpoint. And I’ll admit I read it now and sometimes feel a bit seen-it-all-before, a bit patronising about young people with the answers to all the world’s problems (not that older people have had any good answers recently), and yes, just a bit envious of the fun the youth are having. As they always have.

But I still buy it because of that youthful vibrancy and outspokenness and optimism and, above all, because the NME still has its finger on the pulse of modern music.  You can still be sure that if the NME is saying an album is good, or if it’s hyping a band, at the very least the album and band are worth checking out. And more often than not it still pays off.

Recent examples? The Foals, to my mind one of the best bands of recent years – the new Talking Heads – brought to my attention by the NME. Not quite so recent, but The Arctic Monkeys, The Strokes, The White Stripes: all NME enthusiasms which you just couldn’t resist. Best bands of the 2000s.  Some excellent “Radar” downloads on their website in recent times, which put me on to the brilliant electronic track, “Wet Look” by Joy Orbison , the heavy rap of “Talking The Hardest” by Giggs (not Ryan!) and the indie pop perfection of “Constellations” by Darwin Deez. And they made the Horrors’ “Primary Colours” their album of the year in 2010 and it made me listen, and conclude it was pretty good, especially when I saw them rocking out at Glastonbury this year.

It never stops, because the NME is your good mate who just knows everything thing there is to know about rock’n’roll music. And if you listen to what it is saying, your music collection, your iPod shuffle, however you listen to music in 2011, will be better for it.

Here’s a link to the NME’s website, which is celebrating its first fifteen years.

http://www.nme.com/

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