The Last Round Up

I’m not in the business of making resolutions for the future; I’d rather call them plans. As you’d expect there’s a few, related mainly to maintaining my mental well-being via sporting activity as both an observer and participant, with the creative urge featuring pretty strongly as well, but they’ll remain unsaid for a multiplicity of reasons. Looking back on 2018, it amazes me how I’ve got to the end of it in one piece, considering the queasy and unpredictable rollercoaster ride the year involved. I’ve documented events in detail on here, but the ease and speed with which I fell off the precipice of normal society into a world of debt, despair and the dehumanising effects of benefit culture was terrifying to endure. Thankfully, I have wonderful friends who intervened to save me from the pit of despair and for that I’ll be eternally grateful, as from from November onwards a kind of tranquil, gnostic calm has blanketed my life that I sincerely hope continues into 2019.

Of course, tragically, others have had it considerably worse; my heart goes out at this time to Bethan and Janine, as well as Kenny and family, bereft in the aftermath of tragic events that have left them repeatedly asking but unable to answer why, as they stare at the bleakness of unimaginable personal losses. I offer you my love; it isn’t any consolation, but it is all I have to give, and I mean it with every fibre of my being.

Musically, the loss of Mark E Smith back in January hit me hard; the realisation of just how much The Fall had meant to for 2 decades or more came rushing back, following the legendary autodidactic curmudgeon’s passing. On a smaller scale, the death of Pete Shelley at the other end of the year was a sad blow, considering how Spiral Scratch was the first English record that made me sit up and take notice of the Punk movement. While I could take or leave both the releases and many of the regular live performances of The Buzzcocks post reformation (though the December 89 show at Newcastle Uni and the July 2011 Mouth of the Tyne extravaganza at Tynemouth Priory, which I was lucky enough to see with Ben, were tremendous afternoons), there were some incredible highlights on the various releases that the dull, mid-paced Diggle plodders didn’t diminish. Pete Shelley was a thoughtful, articulate and perceptive songwriter; he combined an ear for a catchy tune, or a powerful insistent homage to his beloved Krautrock influences, with poetic lyrics that challenged and defeated the dismal machismo that infected so much of what was called Punk.  A memory I will treasure forever if his a capella renditions of What Do I Get? and Oh Shit at John Peel’s 50^th Birthday Party at Subterrania in Ladbroke Grove in August 1989. In chronological order, try this Shelley only Buzzcocks playlist as a tribute to the man -:

-          Time’s Up

-          Boredom

-          What Do I Get?

-          Oh Shit

-          Moving Away from the Pulse Beat

-          Love You More

-          ESP

-          Why Can’t I Touch It?

-          Something’s Gone Wrong Again

-          You Say You Don’t Love Me

-          I Believe

Staying with music, my desire for completeness and order has inspired me to write this blog, as there are elements of both live and recorded music that I’ve failed to review so far this year. Firstly, a couple of Tynemouth Market purchases. I’m a sucker for a prog rock bargain and so when I saw the chance of the Island Records sampler Nice Enough to Eat, nestling in the 2 for £5 rack alongside Rod and The Faces live album Overture and Beginners, I dug deep and got the two of them. The Faces album is in pristine condition, which doesn’t surprise me as, aside from a killer version of Jimi’s Angel, it stinks. Self-indulgent, pompous quasi karaoke takes on soul classics besmirch the grooves; I think I’ll stick with studio stuff instead, because the discipline of the recording booth is sadly absent in this smug and dull collection of landfill rhythm and blues.

Nice Enough to Eat has quality running through it like a stick of seaside rock. The opening number is Cajun Woman by Fairport from Unhalfbricking, so I was a willing convert from the get go. Other absolute standout cuts include Time Has Told Me by Nick Drake and the de rigeur excess of 21^st Century Schizoid Man by King Crimson, which is almost outdone for pantomime excess by the faux Indian pretension of Quintessence’s  Gungamai and the studious, po-faced solemnity of I Keep Singing the Same Old Song by Heavy Jelly. Well worth two and a half quid of anyone’s money, even if it sounds like it’s been recorded in a chip shop.

Coming back from Teenage Fanclub in Glasgow at the end of October, I picked up a copy of The Wire to keep me entertained on the train back. Appended to the cover was a compilation CD called Wire Tappers, which I finally got around to listening to in the second week of December. I’m not sure I’ll listen to it again, as I’m not that much of a fan of the post music genre that this appears to proselytise. Truly, it’s very samey; electronic ambient bleeps cover most of the disc, though Jef Brown’s effects pedal drenched guitar histrionics are well worth a second go, especially if you like the idea of Thurston Moore paying tribute to Eddie van Halen. Goodie Pal and Pals are a collection of screaming ladies, deeply influenced by No Wave to the extent they kick its corpse up and down the road for a few pleasantly unpleasant minutes.  Tomasz Darbrowski on the saxophone indulges in a kind of free jazz wig out that the Fast Show used to parody; I’m not sure if it is the response he was aiming for, but it really made me laugh.

So, despite the paucity of my purchases in 2018, here’s my scanty, best of list of new releases -:

1.      Trembling Bells – Dungeness

2.      The Mekons – It Is Twice Blessed

3.      Alasdair Roberts – What News?

4.      Pete Astor – One for the Ghost

5.      Yo La Tengo – There’s A Riot Going On

6.      L-Space – Kipple Arcadia

And here’s a rundown of the re-releases and oddities I got hold of in 2018 -:

1.      Mogwai – Ten Rapid

2.      Candy Opera – 45 Revolutions Per Minute

3.      The Door and The Window – Detailed Twang

4.      The Burning Hell – Library

5.      Alasdair Roberts – Pangs

6.      Various – Nice Enough to Eat

7.      Swell Maps – Wastrels and Whippersnappers

8.      Euros Childs – House Arrest

9.      The Fall – New Facts Emerge

10.  Rod Stewart and The Faces – Overtures and Beginners

Lastly, the various EPs and singles look like this -:

1.      Alternative TV – Dark Places

2.      Us and Them – Fading Within the Dwindling Sun

3.      The Burning Hell – Men Without Hats

4.      Bandit / Ground - Noise

Finally, what about the gigs I saw this year? Going back to the financial problems alluded to in the opening paragraph, I had the awful situation of having to pass up on seeing The Nightingales, as I simply didn’t have any money. Ironically, I had to miss my first Vic Godard performance on Tyneside, after an unbroken recording of seeing him stretching back to 1978, on account of the fact I was working the night he played the Star and Shadow; it concerns me that I may be forced to pass up the chance of seeing more live performances I’d regard as essential viewing in the future. Indeed, having failed to see Hector Gannet at The Wheel House on the Fish Quay on Black Eye Friday, on account of a misunderstanding with stage times and capacity, I was crushed to discover I can’t even get to see the second showing of the same set at the same venue on January 4^th as I’m at graft, which rankles more than a bit. Consequently, I’ll be studiously searching for Saturday and Sunday gigs in future, which is why I’ve already got BMX Bandits briefs for May 18^th at the Head of Steam.

The one gig I did manage to get to since I last wrote about music, was The Burning Hell at Cluny 2 in early December, along with my pal Brendan Oswald, who was back in the country on one of his all too infrequent visits from Slovakia. The Burning Hell was a name that meant little to me, but as Brendan raved about them, having travelled to the gig hotspot (not really) of Banksa Stiavnica to see them, I thought I’d give them a go. Very pleasant they are too; a combination of Yo La Tengo and King Missile. Serious tributes to rock classics rub shoulders with whimsical story ditties. They are, as could be guessed by their diffidence and studied nerdery, Canadian. This manifests itself by cultural references to Men Without Hats, Degrassi Junior High and other Canuck cultural highlights. I bought copies of their charming Library CD and Men Without Hats 7” and I’m very glad I did. The Burning Hell is a name that is totally unfitting to their style of music, but that’s what makes them all the more entertaining; expect the unexpected should be their catchphrase.

Looking back though, here are the 14 gigs I did attend, in order of enjoyment -:

1.      The Mekons; Leeds Brudenell Social Club, April.

2.      British Sea Power; Boiler Shop, November.

3.      Teenage Fanclub; Glasgow Barrowlands, October.

4.      Mogwai; Northumbria University, February.

5.      Trembling Bells; Cumberland Arms, July.

6.      Band of Holy Joy; Tynemouth Club, July.

7.      Three Queens in Mourning; Star & Shadow, October.

8.      The Vaselines; Star & Shadow, August.

9.      Michael Head; The Cluny, July.

10.  The Burning Hell; Cluny 2, December.

11.  Pete Astor; The Cumberland, March.

12.  The Wedding Present; Academy, June.

13.  Brix & The Extricated; Star & Shadow, November.

14.  Willie Mason; The Cluny, September.

See you in 2019; go easy...step lightly...stay free…