"William Burroughs, Ken Kesey, Jack Kerouac, Camus; all books were just as exciting to us as records, there wasn't much difference." - Richey Edwards, 1991
1. Little Nicky Soul – ‘I Wanted To Tell You’ (1964)
Handclapping, shuffling, gospel-soul dancer on the
obscure and short-lived Shee Records out of New York. Little Nicky was
Nichalous Faircorth and the song – with great supporting vocals – was, it’s
believed, his only single. If you’re only gonna cut one record, make it a good
in.
2. Patti Labelle & the Bluebelles – ‘All Or Nothing’
(1965)
Newly signed to Atlantic Records and Patti, Cindy
Birdsong, Nona Hendryx and Sarah Dash rewarded the label with a number 68 pop
hit. By rights it should have climbed higher as not only was it their best
release to date it’s everything you’d want from a sultry and dramatic girl
group 45.
3. The Sweet Three – ‘That’s The Way It Is (When A Girl’s In
Love)’ (1966)
Another girl group beauty, this one written and produced
by still-to-come Philadelphian legend Leon Huff. Nice flugelhorn intro and a
gorgeous record from beginning to end.
4. Pharoah Sanders – ‘The Creator Has A Master Plan’ (1969)
Judging by the squawking terror that occupies a chunk of
this sprawling 33-minute epic from Karma
not everything went as smoothly as the Master may have wished.
The fourth volume of Soul Jazz Records’ New Orleans Funk shows no sign of
dwindling returns. There’s enough in the opening track to keep an old-school hip-hopper
in breaks and samples for a month.
6. Jimmy Smith – ‘Recession or Depression’ (1971)
A vocal track with sweeping strings from the Hammond
maestro, sounding for all the world like he’s written the soundtrack to a
Blaxploitation movie before such a thing was even in vogue: recession,
depression, unemployment, inflation, rich getting richer, poor getting poorer,
trying to make ends meet. An unexpected moment in Smith’s catalogue.
7. Senseless Things – ‘Everybody’s Gone’ (1991)
Twickenham’s Pop Kids have reunited for what’s billed as
a one-off show next March in Shepherd’s Bush. Saw them many times in the early
90s and revisiting their stuff now I’m reminded why. Great live band with short,
fast, pogoing-punk belters with an ear for a good melody. Now all we need are
for The Revs to be added to the bill.
8. The Prime Movers – ‘Don’t Want You Now’ (1991)
Much, I’m sure, to Graham Day’s irritation his time in
The Prisoners will always overshadow his other work. Listening back to the
second Prime Movers album, Earth Church,
it must rank alongside the best things he’s done and ‘Don’t Want You Now’
encapsulates the mean, rock and roll fuck-offness of the Mr Day we know and
love.
9. Peter Doherty – ‘She Is Far’ (2016)
It’s a pity there’s so much baggage with Doherty as it’s
possible to produce some quality records out of him. New album Hamburg Demonstrations hits a high
percentage of satisfying tracks. ‘Flags of The Old Regime’ is stunning and if
Dexys had cut the evocative ‘She Is Far’ you’d never hear the end of it.
10. RW Hedges – ‘Wild Eskimo Kiss’ (2016)
They don’t make records like this anymore. Only they do.
A magical, almost Orbisonesque, seasonal offering from RW Hedges ahead of a new
album next year. Lovely. Listen here.
The exceptional Mavis Staples was the recipient this
month of a lifetime achievement award at the Kennedy Center Honors gala at the
White House.
"The Kennedy Center Honors celebrates the
spectacular talents of artists whose brilliance has left a lasting impact on
our society," according to Kennedy Center Chairman David M. Rubenstein.
"Reflecting on the powerful commitments these
artists have made to their crafts as well as the cultural contributions they
have made over the course of their illustrious careers is a humbling
experience," added Kennedy Center President Deborah F. Rutter.
Look at this speech given by President Barack Obama;
everything about it is wonderful. Brings a lump to the throat. Fully
deserved Mavis. Congratulations.
I don’t usually go in for end of year lists but here, in
no order other than the one they appear above (which was arranged with the
design in mind rather than anything else), are my nine favourite albums of
2016.
It’s been a while coming but the latest issue of Mark
Hynds’s Subbaculture has been worth the wait. As always, it’s intelligently written,
thought-provoking, inspiring and imaginatively designed. Although Subbaculture’s
remit is a multitude of street styles it’s the enduring Mod one which takes
centre-stage.
There’s a two-part Routes Out Of The Mod Revival feature:
one taking the paisley path, the other heading down the strict purist road as captured through the lens of Paul Hallam; author
Jason Brummell gives an interesting insight into the world of independent
publishing; Peter Jachimiak takes a look at the British art scene of the 50s
and 60 with one eye on their sartorial get-up; and the film version of Absolute
Beginners is given a reappraisal (so much so I’m going to have to watch it
again as my opinion may have changed since I, as a know-all teenager wrapped up
in the Colin MacInnes novel, dismissed it as inauthentic 80s rubbish when I saw it for the
only time in 1986).
The case for 1980 being music crowning glory is food for
thought; there’s an extract from Mr. Brummell’s forthcoming novel; and,
although it feels a little tacked-on, Jeff Hately from the band Wolfesbane
offers his thoughts from a metal/punk point of view.
Best mag out there. They won't be around long so look sharp, get yours here.
Broadcast on 7 December 2016 in the USA as part of the Unsung
series, this 35-minute documentary takes an affectionate look at the life and
career of Bobby ‘Blue’ Bland and needs no further sales pitch from me. Enjoy.
Join three unwise men – Mick, Doc and I – this Sunday for
the Fusion Christmas Cracker. We’re offering up an hour of party poppers to
have a drink and dance to. There’ll only be one or two Christmas related songs,
the rest just great old soul, beat, R&B, Mod, whatnot singalongs; Czechoslovakian psychedelic B-sides must
wait for our own individual shows.
So, grab a bottle of Baileys and tune into Fusion in time
for an 8.30pm start. And, while on the subject, can I say thanks to everybody who tunes into Fusion on Sundays (not only the ones I have a paw it) - it's much appreciated. Spread the word. Ho ho ho.
Looking back at his time in These Animal Men, Julian
Hewings – then trading under the inviting-ridicule nickname, Hooligan –
claims the band decided early on their venture wasn’t to become a business or a
career but would be an “artistic moment to express our defence of rock and roll
and the ordinary kid”. There might be some revisionism going on there but
there’s no denying his assertion that they “were doomed but we just fucking
went out and blazed it.”
Flawed Is Beautiful
is a film by Adam Foley and tells the story of These Animal Men and S*M*A*S*H;
two bands the weekly music press dubbed leaders of 1994’s genre-of-the-moment,
New Wave of the New Wave. Ultimately NWOTNW didn’t leave much of an impression
but it did – for good or bad – do much of the spadework for Brit Pop to
flourish the following year. Through archive footage and interviews with band
members, journalists and music biz people two quite separate stories emerge.
These Animal Men wanted to exist in a world where rock ‘n’
roll was king. Three minute blasts of adrenaline-driven pop, dressing up, wearing eyeliner, dying your hair, making a noise, star-jumping
on stage, pulling poses practiced in the mirror in front of an audience, getting
under people’s skin, taking cheap drugs and having huge heaps of fun; where
being in a band was the best possible thing one could wish for and being on Top of the Pops the ultimate
achievement. They did it. They lived it and revelled in it. “If someone was
gonna do something it had to be someone ordinary, and pathetic, and snidey, and
a bit of a prick. And that was me,” says Hewings, his pride obvious. Hewings/Hooligan
is the star of this film with his interview segments capturing all that is
wonderful about being in a band, balanced with an underlying appreciation of
the ridiculousness and transitory nature of the beast.
They courted controversy from the start which is always a
double-edged sword; gets attention but invites suspicion which is inevitably
impossible to shake. If the lyrics, title and spelling of debut single ‘Speeed
King’ weren’t enough, they somehow managed to persuade Virgin Records to throw
in a These Animal Men branded (empty) wrap of speed with each copy and have a
sleeve depicting a huge bowl of (fake) amphetamines with four straws. And if
that wasn’t enough, attempt to play live in schools around the country, with
obvious results. To this day, it is a constant source of embarrassment and
anxiety for bassist Patrick Murray but sums up the band in one episode.
While These Animal Men had a swashbuckling attitude,
blurring punk rock with modish glamour (incidentally, ‘This Is The Sound of Youth’ is
the best Mod Revival sounding record ever made, amalgamating Secret Affair and
The Chords into something greater than the sum of its parts) and an endless
stream of quotable soundbites looking and sounding like a bunch of cut-price
Richey Manics, S*M*A*S*H were darker, angrier and grubbier. The Men had style
but arguably S*M*A*S*H had more substance. Drummer Rob Hague comes across as a
salt of the earth kinda geezer but their story involves suicide and smack
addiction, political benefit gigs, awkward punctuation, singles called ‘LadyLoveYourCunt’ and ‘(I
Want To) Kill Somebody’ with lyrics about murdering members of the tory
government and a video showing John Major having his cock bitten off. That last
achievement is without doubt impressive but which band would you sooner have
been in? Very little about their tale sounds like much fun.
Flawed But
Beautiful is a labour of love for Adam Foley and even if you’re unfamiliar with
the bands – or not particular a fan of either – a terrific film capturing
dreams, youthful spirit, energy, excitement and white-hot rock and roll. It didn't last long but they did it. More should try it.
1. Tommy Collins – ‘All Of The Monkeys Ain’t In The Zoo’ (1957)
No they’re not. There are cheating conmen and shysters all
around, as ol’ Bakersfield boy Collins knew.
2. Willie Bobo – ‘Fried Neckbones and Some Homefries’ (1966)
The Latin percussionist’s haunting yet rather beautiful
and tasty groove.
3. The Tages – ‘The Man You’ll Be Looking For’ (1966)
This Swedish beat combo open a new two-disc compilation
Svenska Shakers: R&B Crunchers, Mod Grooves, Freakbeat and Psych-Pop from
Sweden 1964-1968. At least three of those descriptions apply here.
4. Tyner McCoy – ‘Four By Five’ (1967)
From The Real McCoy, the pianist’s first album after
leaving John Coltrane’s quartet, this – fact fans – is played at around 280
beats per minute. I’ve not tried counting but can vouch this is pretty damn
fast.
5. Alice Coltrane – “Galaxy In Satchidananda” (1972)
Ms Coltrane’s brand of deep spiritualism as demonstrated
on World Galaxy isn’t for everyone as I was reminded on Sunday morning when Mrs
Monkey rose from her bed to enquire “What the fucking hell are you listening
to?”
6. Curtis Mayfield – ‘Pusherman (Alternate mix with horns)’
(1972)
I’m not fussed where folk buy their music, as long as
they buy it, but was weird nipping into Sainsbury’s to buy their 2LP Special
Edition orange vinyl edition of Superfly. Over double the original length with
various additional versions, instrumental cuts, demos and radio spots it had to
be done. This alternate mix with added strings and horns is the pick of the
bunch.
7. Mose Allison – ‘Your Mind Is On Vacation’ (1976)
“If silence was golden, you couldn’t raise a dime”. On 15
November, at the age of 89, and only four years after retiring, Mose fell
silent. For a neat tribute and a top ten picks see my comrade Bill Luther’s
Anorak Thing blog.
8. Jesus & Mary Chain – ‘God Help Me’ (1994)
The type of gently stoned, campfire gospel, Spiritualized
and Primal Scream also deal in, done here by the Reid brothers with Shane
MacGowan taking the lead vocal. Holy.
9. Frankie & the Witch Fingers – ‘Rise’ (2016)
Their Heavy Roller
album is aptly named but this souped-up, supercharged, blues-harp wailing, skin
pounding, barnstorming rocker recalls the Moving Sidewalks garage classic ‘99th
Floor’.
10. William Bell – ‘Poison In The Well’ (2016)
William Bell’s second London visit of the year saw
another superb performance, this time at the Barbican Centre, showcasing his
latest Stax LP, This Is Where I Live,
and a host of his soul classics. Shaking Bell’s hand and sharing a few words
after the gig was an unexpected bonus and a magical experience. Legend.
Bronco Bullfrog, Crossfire, London, October 2016 (Mike, Andy & Louis)
I
last interviewed Bronco Bullfrog in 1999 for Shindig! magazine ahead of their first ever London gig, at the Nice
Club situated off Tower Bridge. In the finished article, I described them as “purveyors
of the finest, classiest, most gorgeous pop gems”. Why use one adjective when you
can you three? They went on to record four albums before splitting five years
after our chat.
Their
debut, Bronco Bullfrog, remains to my
mind one of the best albums of that period. Chief songwriter Andy Morten’s
attention to the details of everyday lives would be unmatched by his peers, if
he had any. A few years ago the band quietly reconvened and have since issued
four singles and played the occasional show. The most recent being the
Crossfire allnighter in London last month.
Watching
them I marvelled, once again, at not only their stunning songs – full of
classic pop hooks and three-part harmonies – but what a powerful live band they
are. The songs blasted from stage crushed their recorded counterparts to dust,
making them sound like cheap demos. It was a very well chosen set too, as if
distance has allowed them to reflect and cherrypick their greatest moments. Early
favourites from the first two LPs ‘Can’t Find My Own Way’, ‘One Day With Melody
Love’, ‘History’, Get To Know You’, ‘Jigsaw Mind’ and more nestled flawlessly with
recent singles ‘Marmalade’ and ‘Never Been To California’. The Move and Pete
Ham/Badfinger covers being glorious bonus balls. It was one of the most
enjoyable gigs I’ve seen all year and spent the set and days after wondering
how they escaped the attention of just about everyone, then and now.
I
rolled back the years with Andy Morten for the New Untouchables’ NUTSMAG to
wonder that aloud.
For those new to Bronco
Bullfrog, can you give us a quick account of who, how, when and why the band
started?
1996.
20 years ago – Jesus. Mike and I had been in The Nerve and Louis had been in
The Beatpack, Immediates, Morticians and probably others. He was in garage
bands when he was about 10. These bands were playing the same ’60s / mod
circuit in London and slowly got to know each other; dogs sniffing each other’s
arses, so to speak. I joined Louis’ post-Immediates band Vibraphone sometime
around 1990 but left after we were involved in a motorway accident after a gig
in Spain. In ’96 all three of us found ourselves at a loose end and decided to
try our luck together with something a little different. The garage / psych /
mod approach had been mined pretty deep and we’d all started listening to a
wider palette of music; country-rock, folk, powerpop, sunshine-pop. The aim was
to absorb all of these influences into one cohesive whole while retaining our
roots as Who / Kinks / Small Faces-worshipping fanboys. There were no rules at
the beginning: if we liked the sound of it, it was in.
The band took their name
from Barney Platts-Mills’ 1969 film, and your debut LP included ‘Del Quant’,
based on the main character. What was it that captured your imagination about
that film?
We’d
all discovered the film around the time the band was starting out and I
suspect, like many bands, needed a name for a poster in a hurry. It was to hand
and it stuck. I had no idea there was a Spanish Oi! label with the same name.
We watched the film endlessly and used to run off copies of my third-generation
VHS, taped off Channel 4 in the ’80s, for our mates. When we were writing that
first flurry of songs, it loomed large in our world and that’s where the lyrics
to ‘Del Quant’ came from. Louis and I wrote it in the kitchen in the house we
were sharing in Fosse Road South, Leicester. ‘Down Angel Lane’ is also named
after a street in Stratford that appears in the film.
Your debut album, Bronco Bullfrog, came out in 1998 on the
small independent Twist label. In the preceding few years swathes of bands with
even the slightest 60s echo were signed to big labels and had money pumped into
them. Bronco Bullfrog had far more depth, imagination and superior songs (I’m
allowed to say this, you can agree….) but got overlooked. Why do you think this
was and was it a source of irritation?
We’ve
talked about this a lot over the years (and over the beers) and we’re still not
sure. Laziness? Nonchalance? Ignorance probably. When we started there was very
little awareness of a lot of the stuff that most bands seem to crave from day
one: we had no desire to get signed up or play at certain cool gigs or support
Supergrass or whatever. We’d come up through provincial bands where playing to
40 people on a Saturday night was kind of enough. We weren’t chasing any kind
of success or acceptance; we were literally doing our own thing. It all felt
very insular; us against the world, getting stoned and buying obscure pop and
psych records from Leicester market and writing these little songs.
You enjoyed a greater
appreciation in other parts of Europe than in the UK. What were the differences
at home and abroad and why do you think that was?
Again,
we’ve asked lots people, particularly in Spain, where we’ve achieved a modicum
of success, about this as we have no idea. The over-riding impression we’ve
been give is that they like the songs primarily, and secondarily the way we try
and put them across – with gusto and without fear of failure! Perhaps our
tendency to “over-write” songs – to keep adding more musicality, more chord
changes and structural elements – singled us out somewhat. I wasn’t hearing a
lot of bands playing songs as naively adventurous as ‘Greenacre Hill’ and
‘7:38’ around that time. Still don’t actually. I guess the balance of downbeat,
often melancholic lyrics in a spunky, super-pop framework isn’t that common
either.
Some of the songs,
particularly early on, appear very autobiographical and personal. What emotions
do they provoke in you now?
Like
I said earlier, this was 20 years ago – we were young men writing about the
travails that young men go through: break-ups, breakdowns, high times, low
times, girls, films, pubs and cake. Life was easier then – we didn’t have
responsibilities like we do now.
What
I hadn’t done before (as primary songwriter) was to write about myself and my
emotions and those of my friends and the world around me. The Nerve was
resolutely a psychedelic rock band; the lyrics were, for the most part,
meaningless. The wah-wah and the Hammond were more important. It was only when
people started telling me how much the words to ‘Paper Mask’ or ‘Sweet Tooth’
meant to them that I started to consider that there might be some emotional
depth to what we were doing. Then we’d get on stage and try and be The Who in 1968
and any subtlety went straight out the window.
How self-critical are you of
your albums?
All
three of us are incredibly self-critical of Bronco Bullfrog’s recordings – I
can’t bear to listen to anything other than the first album and a couple of
tracks from each of the others. They were all recorded cheaply, quickly and
honestly – which is the way we wanted it – but that method can result in some
rather, er, candid performances. We weren’t confident in the studio and would
continually swop instruments if the other guy could do it better. That spirit
was lost as time passed. And the red light syndrome always defeated us.
Which three songs would you
pick to give the best representation of Bronco Bullfrog and why?
Tricky.
The first batch will always remain the most resonant as they represent a
snapshot of our lives and our friendship at that time; precious, life-affirming
memories. After that we tried our hand at all sorts of things but ended up
gravitating towards a fairly regulation powerpop / power-trio format and some
of that variety was sacrificed. Stylistically, a selection that I like would be
‘Paper Mask’ for its emotional heft, ‘Sweet Tooth’ for its blind pop optimism -
poptimism? - and something like ‘Down
Angel Lane’, ‘History’ or ‘One Day With Melody Love’ for almost capturing the
essence of all those ’60s 45s we adore: punch, power, melody and dynamics. And
mistakes.
After years away Bronco
Bullfrog have reformed in a very gentle manner, releasing a series of
stand-alone 7 inch singles and the occasional gig. Tell us about those. What
prompted the three of you getting back in the studio?
I
guess we needed some time apart after the band split up in 2004; some growing
up had to be done. I’m not saying any of us have grown up but we’re all best
mates again now and that’s by far the best thing that’s come out of this
reunion.
The
singles were a natural by-product of getting back together and not wanting to
go straight back on stage; we were more interested in writing and recording a
bunch of new songs in as informal and low-key a manner as we could manage. We
went to State Recorders when it was in Folkestone, then when it moved to St
Leonard’s, as we’d known Mole and Marty since their Mystreated days and liked
the rough and ready sound they were busy patenting. I emailed a few labels and
lo and behold. We’ve done four 45s on four labels so far.
The four Bronco Bullfrog 45s: 2012-2015
So many bands reform years
down the line. People have mixed views about this, what’s your take? What makes
a successful reunion, both from the point of view of a musician and a fan?
I
can only speak from my own experience, which is that the whole time we were out
of action we were still getting requests to go and play in Spain, Germany and
Italy. After a while we realised that people remembered us and maybe we should
give it a shot. We did a couple of warm-up gigs late last year to quell the
nerves, then headed back to Spain in December and dived in at the deep end at
Purple Weekend. We’ve done two tours over there since then and, while we’ve
undoubtedly become less ragged, we’ve also realised that playing those songs
for 90 minutes when you’re 47 is knackering.
What can we expect from
Bronco Bullfrog in the future? More gigs? Singles? An album?
We
haven’t recorded anything for 18 months as we were preparing our sea legs for
the Spanish shows. We’re all in other bands too and have assorted jobs and
families that require our attention. The plan, however tentative, is to record
an album and another single early next year. We’ll probably do it ourselves, in
our time and space, on a couple of old four-tracks so (a) it sounds more like
the old records we dig and (b) you can’t hear the mistakes so well.
Finally, your 2013 single
for State Records included ‘Never Been To California’ (my favourite track of
the new BB-era). For someone whose songs have so often included Californian
sunshine pop in their grooves, please tell me this isn’t true!
Sorry
Mark, it is true. Neither Louis, Mike nor myself have been to the US of A so I
thought I’d write a song about it and we’d try and make it sound like a
Californian sunshine-pop band. Obviously we failed but that’s what Bronco Bullfrog
has always been about really: creating something interesting and exciting by
failing!
The Way We Were
This interviewed was conducted for, and first appeared on, Nutsmag - the on-line home of The New Untouchables - 21st Century Modernist and Sixties Underground Music Culture. Check 'em out for tons of events around Europe.
Back in 2013 I reported on the launch of a new
underground literary fanzine, PUSH. Three and a half years, twenty-three
issues, two Best Of PUSH books, the emergence of a raft of exciting writers, a
host of literary events, and the giving away of cupboardfuls of nick-knacks and
pop culture memorabilia during editor Joe England’s legendary raffles later,
the mag is folding.
When PUSH appeared, it took its inspiration from the tiny
independent press network, especially Blackheath Books, and since establishing
itself as leaders in the field has paved the way for the likes of Paper &
Ink and Hand Job to do a similar thing. None though, with respect, has had the
bite of the England’s collections of prose, poetry and art.
Neither burning out or fading away, the final Sandinista! issue, is full of
incandescent rage from an all-female cast. Some of the pieces make for
extremely uncomfortable reading, and this from a series that has never shied
away from confrontation or ugly truths. As Joe says, “I love this issue, and
really cannot see where I could take the fanzine forwards from here.” I’ve huge
respect for people leaving things at the top so credit to Joe, not only for
collating a tremendous amount of work but for being a key conduit in bringing
like-minded folk – writers and readers – together and giving them a platform. A
push, if you will.
A third Best Of PUSH will appear soon, published, once
again, by East London Press. The final issue of PUSH can be obtained from Joe
here.
Fusion only broadcasts for one hour every week but that
hour is one of the highlights of the week. Every Sunday a motley crew of music
loving freaks hang out, play records, drink and have some fun. Listeners either submit
a playlist for head lunatic Mick to deliver or have a stab at presenting themselves.
This week I’m honoured to been entrusted to fill the hot seat in
Fusion’s rickety old studio for the latest instalment of Monkey’s Wandering
Wireless Show. There’ll be roughly 60 minutes of tunes spanning the 60 years between
1956 and 2016: soul, R&B, beat, things with guitars, songs ya know and some
you might not, with the odd surprise thrown in here and there.
If you sign up to hosting site Mixlr you’ll be able to join in
the chat with the Fusion family (they don’t bite, properly house-trained) as the show goes on, or
simply hit the link below in time for 8.30pm and listen in. Bring some booze
and enjoy.
The Primitives began a trio of weekend gigs on Friday with
a rollicking show at Glasgow’s Broadcast. Helped by the intimate venue, the low
ceiling, the strobe lighting, the rumbustious nature of the Prims material
and it being their first gig for a while this felt like the scales of pop and punk tipped more towards the latter than
usual. They’ve always walked that pop-punk path with style – every review since
1987 has included bubblegum and buzz saws, Ramones and Ronettes (see what I
mean?) – and continue to do so.
They’ve now been an ongoing concern in their second flush
of extended youth longer than their initial burst of activity and the two eras seamlessly
coexist. Oldies but goldies ‘Sick Of It’, ‘Spacehead’, ‘Really Stupid’, ‘Dreamwalk
Baby’ and, of course, ‘Crash’ – tucked away mid-set – in no way overshadow ‘Lose
That Reason’, ‘Hidden in The Shadows’, ‘Rattle My Cage’ and ‘Dandelion Seeds’
which already sound like modern classics.
Over twenty songs fly past in a giddying rush. With the band working on new material there'll soon be additional songs to add to their crown on pop gems, and few wear anything as well as the Primitives.
I like French Boutik. I like how the title of their album,
Front Pop, references forward-thinking
popular culture and the Front Populaire movement of the 1930s where an alliance
of French workers fought for basic rights. That combination of toe tapping melodies and socio-political
comment informs their music, not that I can understand it as I don’t speak French
but that’s not the point, is it comrades?
I like how French Boutik sing in French - it’s authentic
and natural – rather than a second tongue, it strikes me as uncompromising and,
frankly, the right thing to do, unlike so many others. Be yourself, be true.
I like how French Boutik’s music has undercurrents of
soul and jazz but doesn’t actually sound like either. There’s a 60s grasp of strong
melodies, elements of 70s new wave fleck their songs, as does 90s Britpop, and
sandwiched between is a clean 80s sheen which, probably unintentionally but not
unpleasantly, recall early Everything But The Girl, and Swing Out Sister (no
bad thing at all, in case there’s any doubt, Kaleidoscope World is a splendid LP) plus the first couple of Style Council
albums.
I like how French Boutik look happy on stage at the 100
Club, relishing the moment, and the way they shoot each other looks and smile
knowingly when they’ve just nailed a part of a tune. I like how as a support
act they make their set feel like the headline slot. People who’ve come specially
to see them and those who’ve never heard of them before are in unison: they’re
an enjoyable band. They drink red wine on stage.
I like how French Boutik are spilt along gender lines and
have a girl on drums who hardly breaks into a sweat. Horses sweat, gentlemen
perspire and ladies gently glow, as my Granpop always used to say.
I like that the vinyl edition of French Boutik’s LP comes
with an inner sleeve with lyrics and even a double-sided colour poster. Posters
are proper pop group material. It’s a proper pop record.
I like French Boutik. I like them a lot.
Front
Pop by French Boutik is out now on LP and CD.
1. Bobby Adams – ‘Sixteen Years In The Making’ (1963)
Bobby, with a voice like the man of the mountains, sings
about his delight of girl’s 16th birthday; a girl he met at the age
of two, then four, then eight. Enjoy this big beat mover then call the cops.
2. Satan’s Breed – ‘Laugh Myself To The Grave’ (1966)
Give a group of Rhode Island kids a cheap organ, a few
other instruments and some Animals records, lock them in the garage and wait for the results. Boom!
3. The Deadly Ones – ‘It’s Monster Surfing Time’ (1964)
The title gives most of this track away. Taut and twangy
instrumental with a few hungry monster noises over the top. Stay outta the
water kids.
4. Clara Ward – ‘Hang Your Tears Out To Dry’ (1966)
Primarily a gospel singer of the highest order, Clara
rarely ventured into the secular side of the house but Hang Your Tears Out To Dry on Verve is a spectacular exception. A
couple of standards, some full blown jazz-soul stompers, some folky-gospel and best-version-ever
covers of ‘This Ole House’ and ‘Help’. Not easy to find but what an album.
5. Betty Harris – ’12 Red Roses’ (1966)
From the new Soul Jazz Records collection, The Lost Queen of New Orleans Soul.
Although Betty was only ever flown in to New Orleans for recordings, Allen
Toussaint’s production and local musicians including the Meters give it that
unmistakable gumbo-funk sound.
6. Them – ‘What’s A Matter Baby’ (1967)
Them’s first post-Van Morrison LP, Now and Them, understandable lacks a bit of direction but the bouncy
blue-eyed soul treatment on the Timi Yuro/Small Faces classic works here.
7. Cilla Black – ‘Help Me Jesus’ (1973)
Now, I’m nothing if not a fair man and while I may
usually prefer the sound of a burning zoo to a Cilla record I’ve got to admit
liking this. Bittersweet Symphony intro, big sustained guitar chords, tickling
piano and ace backing vocals all contribute to an out of the floor gospel soul
dancer. If someone else had sung lead it’d be perfect, as it is it’s still pretty
damn good. I’m off for a lie down in a dark room to recover from the shock. Nurse!
8. Lloyd Cole & the Commotions – ‘Charlotte Street’ (1985)
Lloyd Cole at Islington’s Union Chapel this month was
magnificent. Playing two sets – one solo and one accompanied by his son on
second guitar – he treated the congregation to “the Lloyd Cole Songbook
1983-1996”. Lloyd’s voice was better than I’d ever appreciated, he was warm,
funny, self-depreciating and armed with a stunning catalogue of songs from the
Commotions period and the first phase of his (neglected by many) solo career. Rattlesnakes remains one of the finest
albums ever made in my book, not a note or phrase wasted, so it was a thrill to
hear three-quarters of it including a couple of my absolute favourites, ‘2CV’
and ‘Charlotte Street’.
9. Hooton Tennis Club – ‘Katy-Anne Bellis’ (2016)
I flagged up their ‘Kathleen Sat On The Arm Of Her
Favourite Chair’ last year and now off Big
Box Of Chocolates comes another toe-tapping Scouse half-60s beat/half-90s indie winner.
10. French Boutik – ‘Le Mac’ (2016)
I’ve no idea what Paris-based French Boutik are singing
about most of the time but I like the way they sing it and the cut of their jib. Debut LP Front Pop - bursting with bright
melodies and a magpie approach to picking influences be it 60s, 70s, 80s or 90s
– is highly recommended. ‘Le Mac’ rips along at a lick with careering guitars
and hurtling organ in hot pursuit while singer Gabriela Giacoman is too cool to rush.
There will be some frankly terrifying noises emanating from
the wireless this Sunday as three of Fusion’s most hideous voices join together
to present the shockingly imaginatively titled Halloween Show.
Mildew Mick, Degenerate Dr Gonzo and I shall be blowing the
cobwebs off some creepy and crawly musical chestnuts for your hairy ears.
If you listened to our ‘Party 7’ show last year, you’ll kind of know what to
expect (the worst…): tracks leaning a bit more towards the classics and a spot
of light tomfoolery. It’ll be fun, honest, and I promise there’ll be no Monster
Mash.
As always, Fusion cranks into action at 8.30pm on the dot for an hour. Tune in in plenty of time my ghoulish comrades.
The Lovely Eggs, The Lexington, 26 October 2016. Photo by Darren Brooker
Midway through the Lovely Eggs’ set, as they
finish ‘People Are Twats’, two audience members hold up pre-printed signs
reading I Can’t Believe I’m Missing Bake Off For This. Although in jest it’s a handy
– if slightly confused – reminder of ‘them’: the outside world, the 15
million people watching three people make cakes fit for the Royal Family, the
twats if you will, and ‘us’: the 200 people squeezed into a
far-too-small upstairs London pub venue watching a Lancastrian couple thrash out shouty
philosophies and observations on a battered drum kit and grungy sounding guitar.
After expressing incredulity that anyone would watch such
a thing, Holly Egg reveals her and David Egg are big fans of Channel 4’s Hunted, a show in which contestants drop
out of everyday society to go underground and escape the surveillance and
monitoring of The State. Sticking it to The Man. It makes sense, the Lovely Eggs do things their own
way. Fiercely independent, for years now they’ve put out their own records,
organised their own tours, it’s their
own DIY world. “This is our life,” Holly says with a mixture of quiet pride, ridiculousness
and a hint of what-else-would-we-do?
Luckily we are free to enter the world of the Lovely Eggs
and the best way is always via their gigs where they make the most sense. Some
of their whimsical nature of yore has been replaced by a harder edged, heavier
sound over the last few years but they’ve racked up such a formidable
collection of singles their set is beginning to feel like a greatest hits. The
latest 45, the wibbly-wobbly, suitably disorienting ‘Drug Braggin’’ opens
proceedings, swiftly followed by one of the best and most harmonious, ‘Food’. New
song ‘I Shouldn’t Have Said That’ is a frustrated blast of angry punk rock; and
‘Fuck It’ encapsulates the Eggs’ well-considered design for a happy and
contented life. “Some people spend thousands going to Thailand to discover
that, you can have that advice for free”.
A large part of what makes the Lovely Eggs so endearing
is their humour and between-song revelations. We hear about the tribulations of taking
a small child on tour (it’s their son, they explain, not a random three-year
old); their capacity for cans of beer (not too impressive, although the
previous point a factor here); thoughts on developing a drinks holster to
negate the inconvenience of having to bend down to pick up a beer; and how to
make onion rings pissed as a fart at 5am.
Although every song rapturously received the atmosphere is
oddly subdued between numbers. Maybe a sign of respect and attention, not wanting to chat through a gig is commendable in my book, but the audience come to life more during ‘Allergies’
when DJ Richard Merrett, positioned above the stage with Idle Fret’s Darren
Brooker, claps along in time through the song’s opening pause. “That sounds
really good,” notices Holly, who stops the song to ask everyone to follow his
lead. They do and it works wonderfully well. London, you started it…
If the Lovely Eggs had only made 2011’s ‘Don’t Look At Me
(I Don’t Like It)’ they’d still be immortal for giving us the sheer bloody poetry of washing-line
teeth, dressing-gown noses, dog-dirt eyes, wheel-chair hearts, red-wine smiles
and the genius of sausage-roll thumbs.
They depart. No phony encore. If you aren’t too busy watching
the telly or making cakes and want a cheery and beery night out, hunt down the Lovely
Eggs.
Many thanks to Darren Brooker (@IdleFret) for the ace photos
On the sleepy teatime quiz show Pointless last Friday one question was something like “Who in 1957 was author of
characters Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty?” Of a survey of one hundred people,
two correctly identified Jack Kerouac. My immediate response was to deride the
great British public for their lack of knowledge of On The Road, yet after some consideration every 50th
person recognising the central characters of a 60 year old American novel was a decent
result and those conducting the survey possibly struck lucky to hit that many.
Jack Kerouac naturally enough features in the latest
issue of Beat Scene. The design might
not have changed in over twenty years but neither has editor Kevin Ring’s
passion for all things beat related as he draws together new articles,
published transcripts and news and reviews of the latest happenings. I’m
excited to read of the publication of Kerouac’s original unexpurgated text of Maggie Cassidy and the article by Kurt
Hemmer identifying the Beat Generation’s influence on Morrissey threw up a
number of interesting associations. How have I never seen that photo of James Dean up a tree before?
Other pieces include Lawrence Ferlinghetti recalling ‘Howl’,
Kenneth Patchen’s Poetry and Jazz days, saxophonist Steve Lacy discussing Brion
Gysin, and William Burroughs is central to a number of inclusions.
Should Luke Haines ever appear on one of those game or
reality shows – and I’d dearly love to see him on I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here covering in rat shit fetching
firewood with Una Stubbs – he’d be introduced as “Best known as lead singer of
90s indie band The Auteurs and member of Black Box Recorder who had a hit in
2000 with The Facts of Life”. For me though Haines is the author of two
fabulously bitchy autobiographical books, Bad
Vibes: Britpop and My Part in its Downfall and Post Everything, both of which I read earlier this year and was
instantly a fan after having never taken much notice of his work. Haines
possesses a well-developed skill in tearing to shreds anyone who
crosses his path and a fondness for occupying the position of perennial
outsider with an enormous sense of righteousness. Written from the viewpoint of
the time with no attempt to balance with hindsight or maturity, both books are funny
as fuck. You need to read them, not least for the Glenn Hoddle lolly stick episode...
I remembered The Auteurs – I saw them support Suede at
the 100 Club in the early days of both bands – but not any of their music so it
was with trepidation and some reluctance I finally approached them. Haines
talks such a good game I didn’t want to spoil his version of events. How much
stuff from the mid-90s is going to sound great to fresh ears this late in the
game? The Auteurs did. Almost the classic albums he claimed, certainly the
first three and the fourth isn’t bad at all. Lacerating rock and roll, sharply penned,
unusual subject matter. And what with Haines being an obnoxious shit-stirrer
with self-destructive tendencies I don’t know why I missed out on them. A combination, more than likely, of bad
clothes, worse hair, a punchable face and the band not looking in any shape or
form like a gang. Bad crime that. They were no Spitfire, man. Oh, and one of them played the cello for Christsakes.
I, like almost everyone else, backed the Suede horse. It was one thing to merrily
mince around the indie-disco shaking all your money in time, quite another to rejoice
in an unsolved child murder or a light aircraft on fire.
Last Friday, Haines’ new album, Smash The System, was released. On Saturday, following a talk back
in the summer at the Walthamstow Rock & Roll Book Club, he returned to the ‘Stow
to promote it. Not that he mentioned it nor were there any copies to be bought.
No hard sell here. Strolling on to the low stage, glass of red wine in hand, he
sat on a stool, picked up an acoustic guitar, played songs, cracked gags and
wore, quite literally, a pair of Rock ‘n’ Roll shades. “Rock” in white paint on
the right lens, “Roll” on the left. Looked good but impossible to see shit
through so donated to one quick-handed punter after the first song, the album’s
rolling title track, which urged us to smash the system, listen to the Velvet
Underground and expressed admiration for the Monkees. “Davy Jones sings… Peter Tork sings… Mickey Dolenz sings…” Poor old
Mike Nesmith left off the list for treating the Monkees too seriously. “Imagine
being in the Monkees and not understanding the Monkees”. This light-hearted
knockabout routine become a frequent occurrence.
‘Ritual Magick’ was a macabre tale of putting menstrual
blood on the roses to make the garden grow (unusual song themes, remember?) and the odd folksy theme continued with ‘The Incredible String Band’, a
kazoo accompanied ditty about “an unholy
act, they sang like a couple of weasels trapped in a sack” which made me
chuckle as that’s precisely why I find those Scottish folkniks unlistenable. Haines though, the
contrary sod, “loved them”. ‘Bomber
Jacket’ a creepily evocative account of being outside growing up in the late 70s straddled comedy and menace as did ‘Are You
Mad?’ also referencing that period (or early 80s) with references to
Eric Bristow and Bobby George.
Outside the new record there were some Auteurs songs
including ‘Child Brides’, ‘New French Girlfriend’, ‘Lenny Valentino’ and ‘Show
Girl’ and although I can’t profess to yet being fully up to speed on all the
solo albums Haines knocks out seemingly cheaply from his front room (I’m
trying), ‘Lou Reed, Lou Reed’ and ‘Leeds United’ were instantly recognisable as
were two tracks from his concept album about 70s wrestlers: ‘Haystack’s In Heaven
(Parts 1-3)’ “Shirley Crabtree in heaven,
Les Kellett in heaven, Pat Roach in heaven, Dickie Davies in heaven, grapple
fans in heaven, all the old ladies in heaven…” and ‘Saturday Afternoon’ with Haines masterful at blending innocence with the darkest horribleness, entertainment
with terror. His half-spoken, breathy husk make a “liver sausage” sound like
the most terrifying object on earth. His sinister delivery akin to a hostage
taker ringing up and giving directions where to drop the money before your
loved one chokes to death on a meat based sandwich.
Luke Haines likes to give the impression of a scary man
(see his Twitter feed) and he can rub people up the wrong way (I
was talking to a couple of NME journalists from the 90s recently and the air
would've made a sailor blush when his name came up) but isn’t that what rock and roll is supposed
to be about? Smash the system, listen to the Velvet Underground, reflect on our pop-culture
heritage, wind people up and, most of all, have fun. Luke Haines is a lot of fun. Sorry Luke.
Smash The System by
Luke Haines is out now on Cherry Red Records.
Bad Vibes and Post Everything are published by Windmill.
The Lucid Dream, The Lexington, London, September 2016
Formed in Carlisle, Cumbria in 2008, The Lucid Dream have
just released their third album, the magnificent Compulsion Songs. Monkey Picks caught them at the Lexington in
London the day before release and is still slightly in awe with what it witnessed.
It’s been a pleasure to watch them develop and progress over the years from
being initially attracted by their (then) Mary Chain sound to the unstoppable
dubby, psych rock, Krautrock juggernaut they’ve become. One of the most
innovative bands around at the moment their live shows are phenomenal; managing
to harness raw power, imagination and hypnotic grooves to move the body and the
mind.
The Lucid Dream are Mark Emmerson (vocals, guitars, synths, melodica), Wayne Jefferson (guitars, synths), Mike Denton (bass) and Luke Anderson (drums, percussion). Mark kindly spared some time to chat about the
album, being a genuinely independent band from Carlisle, psychedelia and the albums that influenced Compulsion Songs.
Let’s start with
the new album, Compulsion Songs. Did
you have an idea in mind, leading off the previous album, or was it ‘let’s just
see what comes out’?
I think it's a natural progression from the second album,
The Lucid Dream. I look back at our
debut, Songs of Lies and Deceit, which
took four long years to complete and think it is a band finding their identity
whilst borrowing heavily; let’s be honest, the Spacemen 3 debut was very like
that. These last two albums I think have put us in a class of our own, and it
is no secret many share that opinion. No band are covering the genres in one
release that we are. Compulsion Songs
is going to be a classic with people in time, I can sense it.
Was it pieced
together over an extended period or done during one concentrated period of recording?
Surprisingly this album was very simple and constructed
from a recording/mixing view. After recording 'Bad Texan' for a single in
November 2015 we knew we should strike while the iron was hot, and recorded the
album over February-June 2016. We spent five days recording it at Whitewood
Studios, Liverpool, with Rob Whiteley and the way of working was that I had all
the songs ready, we literally spent a day rehearsing each - the joys of being
in a band who are shit-hot and know each other perfectly - and then off to the
studio to record it a few days later.
What's your
recording process like?
Everything was very structured really, and we laid the
guide takes down second or third attempt. 'I'm A Star In My Own Right' - the
morning I showed the guys the song, we then played it a couple of times in the
room, and literally were grinning at each other thinking 'that's it!'. Fourth time
we ever played that song together was the album take. Only 'Epitaph' required a
lot of work in the rehearsal room, which is no surprise given it's 11 minutes
long. We recorded '21st Century' and most of 'Nadir' on a Friday afternoon, 12
hours later we were in Barcelona to play. A productive weekend to say the least.
Also, I knew with family commitments, I became a father for the first time last
October, that we couldn't afford in time terms to ponder on mixes
endlessly. I also knew from obsessively mixing the last album that you
soon lose perspective and love for the album for a short while too.
All your releases
have been via your own Holy Are You Recordings. What are the advantages and
disadvantages of working this way?
Self-releasing for us has been amazing. The advantage is
that we take full ownership/proceeds from the sales. A huge shout-out has to go
to Guy Sirman at Southern Record Distribution. Without him/them we would not be
able to put the albums out. We are now in a position where we can put a record
out without having to pay upfront for it, and then see it distributed in the
best possible manner. The downside is that we can only have a certain
reach whilst being DIY. We employ our own PR in UK but we deserve to be getting
full releases throughout the world with thorough PR campaigns.
How does it affect
sales?
We are punching way above our weight self-releasing. This
album has been one of the top sellers at the independents, and I have been told
that had we have went through the corporate route that we would probably be
charting top 50 this week, and very likely top 10 on the vinyl chart. No word
of a lie, when we put an album up for pre-order our inbox is flooded. We had
100 direct copies of this new album and they sold out in a couple of hours. The
figures at the likes of Piccadilly and Norman have been abnormally high.
Music, like the
majority of work in the creative arts, appears to have become marginalized these
days. Is being in a band like yours financially difficult to sustain,
particularly with touring?
We do well in that respect, which I guess stems from
self-releasing. We pay for absolutely everything - recording, mastering, PR,
art etc. The only thing we don't directly pay for are the manufacturing costs.
We always do well out of albums though as they sell very well for our level and
touring does well for us too. We aren't a band to be careless in the studio so
studio costs really are minimal. We can get a song-a-day recorded, easy.
Do you think some
have an issue with you bringing out your releases? Certainly if you
self-publish books people’s attitude is often it must be a bit crap if no
‘real’ publisher will touch it.
I think the people mainly to be culprits of that are the
bigger label/agent arseholes and pretentious websites. Let's be honest, a
self-released band from Carlisle isn't marketable but the proof is out there to
see that we have a very intelligent, non-judgemental, comparatively large
fanbase. We aren't a band to suffer fools gladly, and the message to all those
judging us without listening is 'fuck you'.
The reviews for Compulsion Songs have been uniformly positive
but I remember Shindig! magazine giving you a bit of a hard time in the early
days. How do you react to criticism?
Shindig! were pretty critical a few years back. The first
time was when 'Heartbreak Girl' was released in 2011, and the writer in question
accused us of jumping on the psych bandwagon. The irony of that statement was
that we had been this for four years at that point and 'Heartbreak Girl' isn't
remotely psychedelic, or claims to be. The other time was when we played
Liverpool Psych Fest in 2013. We drew one of the biggest, most receptive crowds
of the weekend. The writer claimed the crowd were bored or something like that.
My simple reply to that - how did our crowds go the following two years? A
rhetorical question.
What about your
geography? I think you’ve said if you weren’t from Carlisle and was from a
“trendier” big city you’d receive more coverage. With communication easier
these days via social media and whatnot does where you’re from make any
difference?
The problem is that people can't take you seriously in
certain areas if you're from a northern 'uncool' city like Carlisle. It is
ridiculous and unfortunately is an issue that will never go away. There’s a kind
of geographical discrimination that happens in the industry. Also, coming from
Carlisle means that you need to work extra hard to get recognition. There's no
'scene' here, people aren't going to be passing your disc around to promoters,
writers etc. Once we started in 2008 we went out and played shows in the
northern cities, lost a lot of money in the process but made an impact. Every
show somebody would be saying 'we've not seen a band as good as you in years'
and word-of-mouth developed. If you're from Leeds, you're half-good and play a
gig at the local pub you've got the NME and shite like that on speed-dial. Thankfully,
in Carlisle that's not a possibility and you've got to work extra hard to get
out there; the nearest city is an hour away. We can genuinely say we've never
had any 'label interest' ever, not that we care. When we recorded our last
album in Liverpool majors were sending scouts up on a weekly basis to look at
signing bands who had played a handful of gigs. Says it all.
Mark Emmerson, The Lucid Dream
Let's talk about
labels, ‘psych’ in particular. Handy shorthand for journalists or restrictive
pigeonhole for musicians?
In fairness, we are a band that's hard to pin down. We're
dabbling in psych, dub, garage rock, krautrock. I guess all have 'psychedelic'
elements so appreciate we have to accept that as a pigeonhole. To me bands like
The Flaming Lips at present, a band who are genuinely weird, do the unexpected
and are unhinged are psychedelic, but psychedelic to most appears to be 'has
flanger/delay/reverb pedal, haircut and leathers.' To us it means experimental,
challenging music. And fuck the leathers and get the shit hats off, get some
Adidas, Lacoste, Fred Perry and Paul and Shark on you posers!
How would you
describe your music?
Experimental but also in touch with classic pop music.
The thing that makes us stand out is that musically we are on fire, but we also
know what a great song entails.
What do you want
to achieve with the Lucid Dream that you’ve not done so far?
We often have this conversation, and we've achieved more
than we ever expected. Initial ambitions were to get a release on vinyl, play
outside of Carlisle – honestly! - and have a top time. We've done all those,
but also had a lot of records out, played 20 countries and done a few 6 Music
sessions, to name a few. The present to-do list for me would be topped by a
Maida Vale session and a couple of USA/Americas shows.
What would be a
measure of ‘success’?
Has somebody said you have changed their life? If so,
that's all. We have been lucky enough to have that acclaim several times. Even
things like a fan having 'You & I' as their first dance at their wedding,
it doesn't get much better than that.
Further listening.
The Lucid Dream’s guide to the five main records to help shape Compulsion Songs:
Neu! – ‘75 (Brain,
1975)
"This is the album that got the ball rolling with this album.
Tracks like 'Nadir' and 'Epitaph' are based around that whole motorik beat. You
could play those patterns for days and not get bored of it. Love this album.
Changed everything. "
Jah Wobble - The
Legend Lives On… Jah Wobble In ‘Betrayal’ (Virgin, 1980)
"One of the main components for the dub influences on this
album. Jah Wobble is a perfect example of an Englishman who took on board the
genius music from Jamaica and inspired it as his own. Something we are tapping
into. Check out 'Tales from Outer Space.'"
Singers and
Players - War of Words (99 Records, 1981)
"Adrian Sherwood produced dub/and more. Amazing album, all
very sparse but proves less is more. Some excellent 'toasting' on this album.
We were going to have somebody toast on this album but shelved the idea. Maybe
next time!"
Joy Division –
Closer (Factory, 1980)
"One of the greatest albums ever. Ian Curtis lyrically on
this album was such an inspiration. Dark, dark music, but the impact is second
to none. Ian was an example of what you could do with a limited range. One of
the all-time heroes. The synths and drum/bass patterns on this album were imperative
for forming 'Epitaph' and 'Bad Texan'. 'A Means To An End' has that dance
element that 'Bad Texan' does."
Primal Scream – XTRMNTR
(Creation, 2000)
Aggressive, confrontational, experimental rock
'n' roll. Everything The Lucid Dream are about live is "in that sentence, and
without this album we wouldn't be. See '21st Century' or the last section of
'Epitaph' for reference." Follow The Lucid Dream on Twitter or Facebook. Get Compulsion Songs from Holy Are You.
