As 2012 moves in to its final quarter, it is beholden of me
to return to the subject of popular music, for the purpose of explaining what
I’ve been listening to and who I’ve been to see since we last talked. With work
coming back in to play and September’s annual autumnal month of abstinence from
alcohol, I haven’t been to see everything I might have done; Patti Smith was
just too damn expensive at the Academy, then C86 revivalists Allo Darlin came
to the Star & Shadow on a night I
had football training, while I couldn’t justify risking the £20 entry fee to
see ex Fairport guitarist Ian Matthews playing the Sage with his reformed
Plainsong on their farewell tour (perplexing logic to say the least) when I’ve
never heard anything they’d done and A Certain Ratio simply passed me by. If
I’d remembered ACR were playing, I doubt I’d have bothered to be frank; I saw
them last year and while they were still great in the unemotional, brutal post
funk way they’ve always been, I really didn’t appreciate how their audience has
been colonised by the kind of atrichorous chuckleheads in polo shirts who were
more likely to have listened to Shakatak than “To Each” back in the day. Also,
they don’t do “Winter Hill,” which is their finest moment.
This weekend I’m missing out on 3 gigs on Saturday night,
just to ready the homestead for the incoming Kingsbry Flying Column’s regular
visit. The Lindisfarne Story, featuring Ray Laidlaw and the Billy Mitchell Band
at the Whitley Bay Playhouse, Parastatic at Morden Tower (more that place in a
bit) and Michelle Shocked at the Cluny, have all been kicked in to touch just
so I can make a casserole and put mints under the pillow in the spare room. So,
domestic beautification excepted, what have I actually been listening to?
You’ll be no doubt aware of my tendency to slip back in time
whenever possible; well it’s no surprise that I’ve been riding the nostalgia
train again. However, in my defence, I have to say it was Laura who fuelled my
indulgence by finding a copy of “Gaye” by Clifford T Ward. The greatest hits, such as they are, of this long
dead minor marvel of early 70s English singer / songwriting, come on a single
CD that she snapped up for a measly quid at Tynemouth Station Sunday market
back in August. It’s gentle, it’s earnest with a pinch of whimsy and it
shouldn’t be forgotten for 3 songs alone; his only hit single “Gaye” shaved the
top 10 in March 1973, while its b-side “Home Thoughts From Abroad” is probably
Robert Browning’s only chart name check and the delightful “Scullery” has been
committed to posterity by appearing on probably every festive anthology of “The
Old Grey Whistle Test” I’ve seen since BBC4 came on air. Strongly recommended.
As well as delving back to the early 70s, the more militant
end of that decade always gets a hearing in this house; The Mekons and Gang of Four
are always on heavy rotation on my Ipod. This is even more the case since I
purchased “Content,” Gang of Four’s
stunning 2011 album that manages to sound both incredibly modern and the
logical follow up to 1981’s “Solid Gold.” Tracks such as “You don’t have to be
Mad” and “Second Life” are up there with the very greatest tracks from
“Entertainment.” I would pay literally hundreds of pounds to see them live
again.
I’d also love to see The Mekons live again, but I must admit their 2011 release “Ancient
& Modern” was more of a loyalty purchase than one fired by
enthusiasm. There are moments of true glory, such as “Warm Summer Sun,” but it’s perhaps because Tom Greenhalgh
is able to keep his quirky and charming songs for Mekons albums, while Jon
Langford spreads his talents across several bands, such as the Pine Valley
Cosmonauts and Waco Brothers, that the material isn’t uniformly strong. I like
my Mekons cynical and unpredictable rather than simply giving dull narratives
in an ersatz Americana style. Tom still lives in Brixton, while Langford’s been
way out west for 20 years or more. More Harehills; less Beverley Hills is the
message they need to internalise….
In a similarly acoustic style but far more engaging on the
ear, Randolph’s Leap are a gorgeous,
low-fi, twee octet from Glasgow and their self-titled, home recorded debut is
the best £5 I’ve spent this summer for sure. Contained within this release,
there are several absolute classic cuts; “Counting Sheep” and “Dying in My Sleep”
are both contenders for the most joyful slabs of optimistic, good time
Caledonian indie I’ve heard in what is turning out to be a bumper year for
Scottish music (Lenzie Moss, Teen Canteen and Jo Mango are all scheduled to
release stuff before year’s end, which is enough to make my overflowing heart
burst with expectation). At the same time, Lightships
issued the “Fear and Doubt” 10”
single, including the best track from “Electric Cables,” the gossamer
glory that is “Silver and Gold,” alongside 3 other tracks, the pick
of which is the baroque and beautiful “University Avenue” that really wouldn’t be
out of place on “Astral Weeks.”
The same day as I purchased the Lightships 10”, I also picked up an 8 track Trembling Bells EP that shows them to
be the hardest working band in the world. Not content with releasing the
absolute number 1 nominee for album of this year, “The Marble Downs,”
they’ve found time to release another 4 tracks with Bonnie Prince Billy and 4 more with Glasgow Socialist choir, Muldoon’s Picnic. This work is as
uniformly stunning as ever, especially “Yorkshire in October,” but when Laura and
I saw them in York in late August at the excellent Duchess, it was abundantly
clear Trembling Bells are moving on; no “Carbeth,” though thankfully they
still dedicated “Goathland” and “Just As The Rainbow” to us, but 4 new songs already integrated in to the set. Two of
them, “The Bells of Burford” and “Broad Majestic Aire” are
as good as any they’ve released so far and that really is saying something. In
1969, Fairport Convention released
both “Unhalfbricking”
and “Liege and Lief;” of all the bands currently on the scene, only Trembling
Bells have it in them to match that
level of creative output and better the quality of those landmark releases. Oh
it’s going to be so exciting waiting for them to do that. I love this band;
love them beyond words. Coming back from York, Laura and I were on the same
train as John and Yulene after they’d flown in to Manchester from Bilbao and
were heading up home; he’s taken a copy of “The Marble Downs” back to Euskadi,
as I keep trying to spread the word about Trembling Bells, by palming off burnt
CDs. Even if their gigs are sparsely attended, which both baffles and appals
me, at least my conscience is clear about loving them and doing my best by them,
as well as the two acts Laura and I went to see for her birthday; more fabulous
Scottish indie pop from The Wellgreen and
the entirely adorable Euros Childs at
the wonderful Star & Shadow.
The longer this year goes on, the more I’m convinced that
we’ve all fallen in to a musical time warp and that the sounds we’re hearing
are all from the post Middle Earth, pre 100 Club generation. A few months ago I
actually believed we were back in 1972, now I’m not so sure. Trembling Bells in
York felt like a 1969 era Fairport Convention performance (remember; Snowgoose
are 1969 era Pentangle as well), so good was it. In contrast Euros Childs and
The Wellgreen could have been happening at any moment in the time between early
1974 and mid 1976; not only does it feel like punk never happened a lot of the
time these days (unlike what BBC4 is telling us every Friday night), but that
seems to be a good thing.
Until February 2011, I hadn’t even heard of Euros Childs,
much less heard anything by him; since then I’ve seen him live on 5 occasions
in 5 different venues, bought 3 of his albums (including his latest “Summer
Special” at this gig) and found myself bowled over by the incredible,
prolific creative genius of the man who held the audience (including a boozy,
boisterous element near the bar that initially seemed more intent of getting
loaded than watching the show) enraptured. Frankly, and I don’t say this
lightly, the man reminds me of David
Bowie in the period from “Hunky Dory” to “Low;” wildly electric,
brilliantly creative & able to switch styles effortlessly from song to
song.
The Star & Shadow is a great venue; an independent
cinema co-operative that recalls the spirit of more ideologically earnest times
and acts as the antidote to hideous corporate venues like the appalling 02
Academy. Could that have been the hint we were in the 1970s again? Well, the
next time I visit Vic Godard, Davey Henderson & Pauline Murray are sharing
a bill, so that gives us a clue. We arrived around 9.00, missing first act Adam
Stearns as we’d popped in to The Cluny down the bottom of the bank to wish my
mate Dan from work good luck, as his band Dennis
were playing a gig that night as well. Typically, their next gig is November
30th; Vic Godard night. I’ve got a copy of their debut EP and it is well worth
a listen; a solid, honest local acoustic indie band with a brass section and
immaculate proletarian credentials.
Last December, Euros had played a solo piano show at The
Literary & Philosophical Society in town, where it was limited to 80
tickets; this evening the Star & Shadow was pretty close to capacity, not
to mention stiflingly hot after a day of unseasonal warmth. This all added to
the really positive, fun vibe. The Wellgreen were the first act we saw; more
succulent fruits from the glorious tree of Scottish indie. It could have been
The Monkees we were watching, it could have been David Cassidy, though it was
CSN&Y when they did “Teach Your Children.” The harmonies, the lyrics, the
understated musicianship, the banter, the bonhomie, the integrity; within 2
songs I knew I was buying their album. Afterwards I got to have a chat with
Stuart (and briefly Marco); charming, friendly, erudite young men, who it is a
pleasure to encourage. The Wellgreen are everything we need a band to be. It
honestly fills me with hope and with pride to know that there is a rich and
glorious creative seam of independence that cuts through the corporate shit and
the falsity of so much of the mainstream. Yet this wasn’t arty or challenging
music we were hearing; it was beautifully crafted intelligent pop music.
When Euros arrived with The Wellgreen and Andrew Stearns as
his backing band, in the guise of the Roogie Boogie Band, it was pub rock with
a hint of glam. Elements of Dr. Feelgood, Kraftwerk, Wings (I’m not making this
up) all melded together in to what honestly could have been Euros Childs &
The Spiders from Mars to provide one of those rare sets where there wasn’t a
duff number. Despite my catch up activities over the past 18 months, I’m still
woefully ignorant of much of his back catalogue, so bear with me if I don’t
know all the titles.
Stand out moments included the beautifully daft ghost story
of “Cavendish Hall” and the saddest song of all time “Parents’ Place” from “Ends,”
not to mention the 12-bar goodtime stomp of “Roogie Boogie” and “That’s Better”
from the no doubt consciously mid-70s culturally referenced “Summer
Special.” Songs I’d not heard before that brought the house down included
a demonic, rock god “Horse Riding” and “The First Time I Saw You,” that
encapsulated everything on side 2 of “Low” in one synth riff. No encores
after that; just 75 minutes of superb, engaging, commercial pop rock suffused
with the endearing world view of a man I’ve come to admire so profoundly. Thank
you Euros Childs for making the world a better place. Needless to say, he was
wonderful company afterwards; diffident, charming & humble. There really
aren't enough superlatives for this man. And The Wellgreen are wonderful too.
To end the month, I went to see Stuart Moxham from the Young Marble Giants, supported by Gina
from The Marine Girls in her current
project The Fenestration at Morden
Tower. This incredibly intimate venue, accessed down the back alley behind
Stowell Street and up a staircase in the medieval west walls of the city,
struggles to hold more than 50, but surely is the true hidden jewel of
Newcastle’s music venues. Used for spoken word and acoustic events since 1964,
it is to my eternal shame that I’d never been there before. It felt like a
missing scene from “Get Carter” as I trudged, knee-deep, through Chinese restaurant
detritus, the tang of sweet and sour sauce shot through with MSG permeating
each pore in the brickwork, trying to find the place.
Once inside, I began to feel a little claustrophobic as the
audience pushed up towards 30, comprising the parents and the children of the
1990s Slampt generation. First on was Wilt
Wagner; a one man Thomas Leer and Robert Rental tribute act. It was like
1978 all over again as a low-fi synth and attendant electronics took us on a
sometimes pastoral, sometimes painful 15 minute musical exploration. I liked it
enormously, unlike the next act.
The Fenestration,
a husband and wife team who won’t see 45 again, wore pastel cardigans as if
they were auditioning for an AmDram version of “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure” and,
rather than a band, they appeared to be a pair of benevolent, ageing, formerly
trendy Primary School music teachers attempting to coax a particularly
reluctant cohort through the greatest hits of Trixie’s Big Red Motorcycle for the end of term concert. Without
being insulting, this was an almost unbearable, unlistenable 30 minute
excursion in to the unacceptable hinterlands of twee. Bear in mind, this woman
wasn’t invited to join Grab Grab the
Haddock after The Marine Girls folded.
She sang, atonally and unpleasantly sharp, while he doodled on a cheap Casio
and Strat-shaped electric mandolin, as well as interminably farting about with
a mini drum machine before each song, like he was answering a particularly
intractable proposition from Wittgenstein via text message. It was a terrible
load of tripe. Please don’t encourage these people.
Stuart Moxham must be encouraged; post YMG and his later solo vehicle The
Gist, he got a job as an illustrator and brought up a family. Now in his
50s, divorced and downbeat, he has returned to music, with the beautiful,
cathartic “Six Winter Mornings” album I purchased at this gig. It’s a dry
run to see if he can do the old material with a full band, including his
daughter on vocals. Also he’s done some tender acoustic stuff with a mate Derek
Halliday; it sounds like post Sandy era Fairport, so they fact that Stuart and
Derek look like Mulligan and O’Hare just added to the Cropredy vibe. As regards
his previous musical output, I sincerely hope he takes the plunge and tours
with a full band; leaving early because I was knackered and wanted to see The
Football League Show means I still haven’t heard “Final Day” performed
live.
So, there we have it; October looks a quiet month, before The Wedding Present, Half Man Half Biscuit,
Dirty Three and the previously mentioned Vic Godard / Sexual Objects extravaganza hint that November will be
the live month of the year…
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