"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. 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.