Everything that follows has possibly been rendered
irrelevant by the news that Godspeed You! Black Emperor are releasing a new
album on March 31st, but let’s do our best to keep calm in the meantime…
If you’re looking for someone to blame for what I’m about to
tell you, then Alex Neilson of Trembling Bells is an appropriate scapegoat. Not
content with being drummer, vocalist and chief songwriter with the finest
contemporary folk psychedelic outfit in the known world, the Yorkshire
Glaswegian has also formed two other outfits that have markedly influenced my
musical tastes over the last few months, sending my aural curiosities
spiralling towards hitherto unknown territories. Firstly, he arrived at the
Bridge Hotel last August with his “balls to the wall” Free Jazz outfit Death
Shanties and split my head open with the immense noise they created.
Consequently, I’ve been out and investigated what this genre means these days,
courtesy of Viennese Theremin terrorists Blueblut, as well as a couple of Sun
Ra and his Arkestra recordings found amid the smouldering stock embers of the late,
lamented Volcanic Tongue Records, where Alex was once employed I believe.
However, Free Jazz tells only half the story. At the very
end of 2014, the final album I bought last year was by Alex’s other vehicle,
the unaccompanied vocal group Crying Lion, which includes Trembling Bells’
genius vocalist Lavinia Blackwell, who released the stunning “The Golden Boat,”
which simply blew me away in every possible way. Logging on to Facebook to pass
this praise on, I was given an automated suggestion to like Topic Records (http://www.topicrecords.co.uk/), who
for 75 years have kept the flame burning for Cecil Sharp and ethnomusicologists
everywhere, with innumerable folk releases that are for people who hear little
difference between the work of Kate Rusby and Lady Gaga. As a kid, I remember
my Uncle Brian giving my dad a Topic release as a birthday present; the
scratched and beaten up album “Canny Newcassel,” including Ed Pickford, Johnny
Handle, Louis Killen and Bob Davenport among others (of whom more later) passed
into my possession after my dad’s death and it’s a good nostalgic listen,
including Tyneside songs from the mid-19th century onwards.
The thing was, while listening to Crying Lion, on vinyl
wonderfully enough, I was able to read around the subject and what became clear
to me, apart from the fact I needed to plug huge gaps in my musical knowledge
about 60s folk music, was that Topic Records were a company I needed to spend
time learning about. Well, after a few hours playing around on their website
and various social media platforms, I found myself having purchased or borrowed
CDs and vinyl by the following artists (in alphabetical order): Anne Briggs,
Peter Bellamy, Shirley Collins, The Copper Family, Bob Davenport and Louis
Killen, who have provided me with various levels of enjoyment and the
opportunity to sing lustily and atonally along with.
For me, the most breath-taking talents from that list are
the amazing, uncompromising releases by obstinate hedonist Anne Briggs and
doomed, Bohemian traditionalist Peter Bellamy. Born in Nottingham and orphaned
as a child, Briggs left home to sing in folk clubs in London when barely 16.
Possessing a voice that only Sandy Denny or Lavinia Blackwell could hold a
candle to, she sought the primacy of art above all else, eschewing commercial
success or even regular recordings, while living an itinerant lifestyle,
including much time in Ireland with Johnny Moynihan of Sweeney’s Men (incidentally,
I’m immensely looking forward to Andy Irvine at the Tyneside Irish on April 16th).
The CD I purchased of her greatest moments has stunning versions of “Polly
Vaughan,” “Blackwaterside” and “She Moved through the Fair” that have actually
improved my life by hearing them. As I say, she is part of a trinity of divine
female voices alongside Sandy and Lavinia; that is the highest praise I can
offer. I borrowed this CD from my mate Ginger Dave and returned it; he said
subsequently I could keep it. I must get it back from him soon.
Poor Peter Bellamy killed himself back in 1991, convinced
his life had been a commercial and artistic failure. The photo of him I have
used here is one that shows him utterly ecstatic while singing; it’s the one I
like best as I find his death such a tragedy. As yet, despite Alex’s
recommendations, I haven’t as yet come across Bellamy’s first recordings with
the Young Tradition, a group he formed after Anne Briggs urged him to drop out
of Art College. Following YT’s disintegration after a few years, Bellamy
followed a solo career as, in his own self-deprecating phrase, “a boring,
bleating traddy.” This is totally unfair, as his “Both Sides Then” album is
another stunning release, featuring Dave Swarbrick on some tracks, with Bellamy
on accordion or unaccompanied on others. The opening “Barbaree” is a glorious,
rollicking reading and one that almost makes me wish to punch the air. “The
Housecarpenter” is a saddening story of tragic love, while “Derry Gaol,” also
known as “The Streets of Derry” when Andy Irvine and Paul Brady do it, is even
better than Sarah Makem’s supposedly definitive version. Bellamy’s tragic death
should not overshadow the true genius of his work and I must find out some
Young Tradition material soon.
Of a far more cheerful stamp are The Copper Family. Hailing
from Rottingdean in Sussex, several generations of the family have sang joyous
numbers of English rural life for pushing 150 years. First commented on by Kate
Lee (a friend of Sir Edward Carson no less!!) in 1898, they were recorded in
the early 50s for the “Come Write Me Down” CD, though at the time it was
basically the BBC increasing their archives of a supposedly dying tradition.
The four voices on that album, brothers
John and Jim Copper and their sons Ron and Bob, are all dead, but the
joyous celebration of harvesting, spring and ordinary rural pleasures hint at a
kind of pre Christian almost Pagan simplicity. Of course Fairport did a superb
version of “Banks of the Sweet Primeroses,” but it is glorious to hear it
unaccompanied, as well as Steeleye Span’s hit “Hard Times of Old England.” Also
to be recommended is the celebratory “When Spring Comes In.” As someone who
always scorned the optimistic nature of much English folk when compared to
Irish folk politics, this is a refreshing change. I’m also delighted to see The
Copper Family still continue with grandchildren and great grandchildren of John
and Jim performing for the midwinter solstice in Rottingdean.
Also from Sussex is Shirley Collins, who with her sister
Dolly accompanying her on portable pump organ, was also an integral part of the 60s English
Folk revival. However, I have to say she comes a very poor second to Anne
Briggs in terms of female vocalists being, for my tastes, too formal and
emotionless. Also, she lacks the warmth of The Copper Family and sounds as a
little sullen for my tastes. Perhaps she’s too English for me. Actually, she
reminds me of Rose West impersonating Maddy Prior.
Sadly, I also didn’t particularly enjoy Bob Davenport’s 70th
birthday CD, “The Common Stone,” although I’m pleased to hear “The Bold Fenian
Men” sung by someone with a broad Geordie accent, which does justify much of my
post-closing time oratory these past 30 years I suppose. Davenport was born in Gateshead, but headed
off to London aged around 20 and ran folk clubs all around the capital, though
all I knew of him was that he introduced Fairport to “The Hexhamshire Lass”
which unfortunately doesn’t appear here on a set where arrogance drips from
every pore, in my opinion. It’s not a CD
I will return to.
Another Tyneside born person who ran folk clubs was Louis
Killen, who started the Bridge Hotel folk club in the late 50s/early 60s. As a
young man, my dad sang with Luke Kelly of The Dubliners, who gave his first
public performance in that bar. If only I’d asked him more about this before he
died. Killen came from a Geordie Irish family and eventually moved to the
States, where he joined The Clancy Brothers in the 1970s and 1980s, returning
home to retire, passing away 5 years ago.
Recorded on Topic, found on vinyl for £2 at Tynemouth market one Sunday
in January, “Along the Coaly Tyne” is patchy to these ears. I find much of the
mannered excessively Geordie voices too histrionic for my tastes; certainly the
overwrought version of “The Trimdon Grange Explosion” is far inferior to either
Martin Carthy or The Mekons’ versions. However, I suppose it is good to have a
local artefact as important as this.
Since I’ve signed up to Topic’s monthly newsletter, I’ve
established a wishlist that includes The McPeake Family, The Watersons and, of
course, Seamus Ennis, though the great thing about Topic, rather like dropping
into Listen Ear records in Newcastle in 1978 and asking to hear the latest
Rough Trade or Small Wonder release, is that unexpected suggestions appear and
take you in hitherto unimagined directions. Hence, I have 3 hours of
unaccompanied Sean-Nos singing by Joe Heaney (more properly Seosamh Ó hÉanaí)
as his CD was February’s bargain of the month. Sticking his unknown name into
google, I came across a live version of “Rocks of Bawn” (sadly not on this
record) and was immediately struck by my need to purchase this. While 3 hours
of Sean-Nos is pretty hard going there are some gems; “Skibereen,” “Bean
Phaidin,” “The Valley of Kockanure,” “The Bogs of Shanaheever,” “Claudy Banks”
and “Lonely Woods of Upton” in particular.
It also whetted my appetite to find out more about the whole
idea of Sean-Nos and I’m determined to get hold of something by Darach Ó
Catháin, or Dudley Kane as his family in Leeds knew him. Whatever you call him,
“Oró 'sé Do Bheatha Abhaile” is stunning; incredible. Not only that, but I learned of the
incredible Irish art of lilting; literally diddly-dee-ing along to music, or
instead of music. Seamus Fay from County Cavan is apparently the best exponent
of it, so watch out for more here. I think I’ll be searching on Gael-Linn
records rather than Topic’s website for these though.
One new CD I did get hold is Fairport’s “Myths and Heroes,”
which I collected at The Sage at this year’s Wintour gathering. What an
enjoyable evening it was as ever; I was particularly pleased that we didn’t get
a greatest hits how, as it showed the band remain creative and vital, with
Chris Leslie’s hair getting longer every year. Admittedly, things started with
“Sir Patrick Spens” and finished with a trio of “Farewell! Farewell!” “Matty
Groves” and, of course, “Meet on the Ledge,” but there were 9 tracks from the
new album and several cuts from “The Festival Bell.” This can only be a good
thing. The new album isn’t, of course, “Liege and Lief” or “Unhalfbricking,”
but there are some great numbers, particularly “John Condon,” which could be a
successor to “Red and Gold” in terms of mood and structure, “Bring Me Back My
Feathers” and “Weightless.”
It’s rather ironic that the first new release I get in 2015
is from a band who have been together nearly 50 years, though sometimes old
bands rehashing old stuff works just as well. The night before they played the
Sage, Fairport played Leeds Grand; I was in town that night, but at a very
different gig. Back in 1985, I thought The Jesus and Mary Chain were the future
of rock and roll; for a while they were, until they learned to play, bought
proper instruments and became dull Velvets and Stooges copyists, but
“Psychocandy” and the early singles, including “ Sidewalking,” were glorious.
That said, I wouldn’t have been bothered about seeing them again, especially as
they played Newcastle the same night as Fairport so that was out of the
question, but Ben insisted. Who was I to deny the bairn a proper musical
education? I got us tickets and headed down on a half term Tuesday. Typically
he was full of flu and had to drag himself out of his sick bed, but the show
had to go on.
I’m delighted I went; white noise feedback, white light
strobes and the same three chords for the slow ones and the same 2 power chords
for the fast ones. Jim Reid draped over the microphone, William Reid spherical
(who says black is slimming?) and an audience of middle aged men in leather
jackets. What can you say though? “Just Like Honey,” “Some Candy Talking,”
“Never Understand” and “Upside Down” were amazing. Obviously playing the whole
of “Psychocandy” in order reduced the surprises, but it allowed Ben to last as
long as “You Trip Me Up” before illness forced our departure 2 songs early. A
taxi home for him and I headed to The Skyrack, my bar of choice back in 87,
with ringing ears and nobody to discuss the gig with. I thoroughly enjoyed it
and would recommend you see them. However, if they’re doing “Automatic” or
“Honey’s Dead” next year, I won’t be back.
As far as forthcoming releases, other than GY!BE, I’m
looking forward to stuff by The Gang of Four, The Pop Group and Wire, not to
mention British Sea Power’s “Sea of Brass” and Francis MacDonald, which will no
doubt feature in my next music blog. All of which are encouraging signs that
old bands are releasing new material, though I’m slightly disappointed not to
have seen The Pop Group or Wave Pictures (I also missed out on getting a ticket
for them on February 7th at The Cumberland, when it sold out while I
prevaricated) or even The Fall. You see, those three bands, as well as Mogwai
on the Friday supported by Sleator Kinney, were announced as part of the Radio
6 Festival in Newcastle. The first
night’s tickets, 1,800 of them at the Academy, sold out before I’d even heard
about the festival. As regards Saturday night, while The Fall were playing,
I’ve seen them often enough not to be bothered about paying £35 to see them
support Hot Chip and Maximo Park, so I
got myself ready for the Sunday; Wire and British Sea Power.
Despite mentions of Saturday’s tickets going quickly, I was
amazed to see 3,400 Sunday tickets disappear in 30 seconds. Seriously; less
than a minute for them all to go. What was worse is that they all ended up on
Stubhub and Viagogo at massively inflated prices. Frankly I was both furious and heartbroken,
with a growing sense of disgust when the free Saturday day time tickets (The
Pop Group and Wave Pictures), which were supposedly available by lottery, didn’t
go to anyone I knew. Not one person I was acquainted with was successful. The
BBC seriously needs to look at their policy of using licensed scalpers like See
Tickets to distribute tickets. The only results I see are pissed off punters
who have lost faith in the best radio station there is, not to mention the
immaculate box office of The Sage being forced to suffer undeserved flak from
those who missed out. That said, when I was ready to pretend the whole event
wasn’t even taking place, a kind friend of a friend on Facebook offered me cost
price for the Sunday and it was marvellous.
Heading to The Sage on a bone-chilling Sunday, with
incessant sleet driving in from the west, I wasn’t in a great mood. However,
once inside, everything ran like clockwork. Radio 6 ought to be commended for
the superb organisation of the festival and picking a load of bands that wouldn’t
sell out individually but came together effectively and made for a great night.
That said, I was back indoors by 9.00 to see Laura snivelling at “Call the
Midwife.” Actually, that’s a good idea for gig timings in future.
Entering The Sage around 5.15, I saw a few people I knew,
passed on the beers and got a place 2 from the front in Hall 1 for British Sea
Power. Bang on time, Steve Lamacq introduced them and, with no time to waste,
they flew through a crowd pleasing half a dozen numbers, with “Waving Flags,” “The
Great Skua” and “All In It” really bringing the house down, especially when
Ursos Actos appeared, much to the consternation of neophytes in the crowd.
Compared to the staid Sea of Brass show in October, this was brilliant and
really brought home to me how much I love this band and everything they stand
for. Simply superb entertainment.
From Hall 1, I shuffled along the balcony and down the
stairs while King Creosote finished playing. There was plenty bars, beer
sellers and food stalls, but I was only interested in seeing Wire. After King
Creosote, the crowd moved on and I secured a place right at the front in time
for one of the most important bands I’ve ever heard. They did not disappoint; “Doubles
and Trebles” and “Joust and Jostle” were the stand out numbers in a furious,
visceral aural assault. Never in their nigh on 40 year history have Wire
contemplated compromise. This is still the case and, I’m delighted to say, many
said they stole the show. They were the end of my show and I don’t regret
paying £40 to see 2 bands or hear 12 songs. Did you really expect me to stay
for Tim Burgess and The Charlatans?
As regards live music, while I’ve tickets for Lee “Scratch”
Perry on April 10th and Andy Irvine the week after, the one gig I’m
now tempted by is Wire at Brudenell Social Club on Tuesday April 28th;
I’m determined to make it there and back in a night.
No comments:
Post a Comment