DECEMBER PLAYLIST

1.  Hank Williams – ‘Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain’ (1951)

Although written by Fred Rose and originally recorded by Roy Acuff this - simplicity of lyric, the aching delivery - still sounds like pure Hank.

2.  Rolling Stones – ‘I Just Want To Make Love To You’ (1964)

New collection The Rolling Stones On Air brings together the band’s early BBC recordings and for the most part they are curiously polite performances, as if on their best behaviour, but here, in front of a live audience rather than studio surroundings, they tear it up.

3.  Toni Daly – ‘Like The Big Man Said’ (1966)

Sassy Southend chanteuse warns against dubious men promising the world.

4.  Sun Ra & His Arkestra – ‘Ankhnation (aka Intergalactic Motion)’ (1966)

From Pictures of Infinity, this is nine minutes of nutty arkestral elation.

5.  David Newman – ‘We’re A Winner’ (1968)

Tenor man Newman takes on The Impressions.

6.  Bobby Womack – ‘It’s Gonna Rain’ (1969)

One of Bobby’s best.

7.  Ghetto Brothers – ‘Girl From The Mountain’ (1972)

Puerto Rican New York street gang turn to jangly guitars and irresistible rhythms. Sweet as.

8.  Whiteout – ‘Detroit’ (1994)

Scottish moptops really shoulda cleaned up with their string of splendid singles: ‘No Time’, ‘Starrclub’, ‘Detroit’ and ‘Jackie’s Racing’. No justice.

9.  Kasabian – LSF (2004)

I was taken as a surprise “treat” to see Kasabian this month. I bought, and enjoyed, their first album back in 2004 but after the disappointing second one haven’t paid them any attention other than to roll my eyes at their unconvincing attempt to be rock and roll stars. But, credit where it’s due, the gig was an enjoyable affair – even in the humongous O2 Arena – and this oldie about burnt chips from that debut, complete with huge gospel choir, was joyous. Really.

10.  Margo Price – ‘Pay Gap’ (2017)

From one of the albums of the year, All American Made, comes this country protest song urging for gender equality. “In the eyes of rich white men, I’m no more than a maid to be owned like a dog, And a second-class citizen”.

JULY PLAYLIST

1.  Yusef Lateef – “Psychicemotus” (1965)

Most hipsters were still a couple of years away from psyching everything in sight but by 1965 saxophonist and flautist Lateef had been expanding minds for years with his Eastern infused jazz. I’ve only recently scratched the surface (there’s much digging to be done in Lateef’s vast catalogue) but the few albums I’ve got - Eastern Sounds (1961), Psychicemotus (1965) and Yusef Lateef’ Detroit (1968) - are all different but all great. This track, with its bamboo flutes and sparse complex rhythms, is Moondogtastic.  

2.  The Turtles – “Outside Chance” (1966)

Saturday mornings always begin with Brian Matthew’s Sounds of the 60s show on Radio 2. Yesterday he played this fantastic folk-punker.

3.  Dick Wagner and the Frosts – “Sunshine” (1967)

Debut single from Detroit area rockers Michigan rockers The Frost was a suitably groovy and thinly veiled ode to the lysergic stuff. 

4.  Bobby Womack – “Tried and Convicted” (1968)

Bobby was due to play in Walthamstow this weekend but he got the call from soul heaven so went there instead. Bit of an extreme measure to avoid E17; we might not have a 110th Street but we do have a Hoe Street.

5.  James Brown – “Just Enough Room For Storage” (1971)

The instrumental album by the James Brown Band, Sho Is Funky Down Here, is more of a surprise than one might expect. There’s a funky jazz groove on the title track but what makes the record an oddity is all tracks are co-written credited to James Brown and Dave Matthews. JB never one to give credit (and royalties) lightly, it has to be assumed the vast majority of the work was by arranger Matthews, and that certainly comes across with acid rock guitar leads unlike anything else associated with Brown.

6.  Clydie King – “’Bout Love” (1972)

Although Clydie King is one of countless singers to never really “make it” – earning her crust in the shadows as a backing singer – she’s one of the more unlikely examples. Her vocals on ’65-’66 singles for Imperial – “Missin’ My Baby”, “If You Were A Man”, “Soft And Gentle Ways” etc – are knee-tremblingly  gorgeous and she looked stunning. Her recording career stretched back to 1956 but Clydie had to wait until 1972 to cut Direct Me, the first of only two solo albums, which included the rather pertinent “Ain’t My Stuff Good Enough?” and this glittery stomper.

7.  Billy Swan – “Don’t Be Cruel” (1975)

The new Country Funk II compilation is every bit as good as the first volume. A swampy mix of late 60s and early 70s countrified soul and funk opens with Billy Swan taking “Don’t Be Cruel” at a stoned alligator pace but accompanied by a dope breakbeat. Yes, I’ve just typed dope breakbeat without really knowing what one is. Dig that crazy rhythm. Groovy. Wicked. Whatever.

8.  The Jetset – “Wednesday Girl” (1984)

The Jetset were South London’s maraca shaking, striped hipster wearing, Jetsetmobile driving version of The Monkees as you can see here on Spanish TV.

9.  St. Paul and the Broken Bones – “I’m Torn Up” (2014)

Paul Janeway might look like Alan Carr but, thank the Lord, sounds more like an overwrought James Carr. Alabama born, he and his Broken Bones mixed their debut, Half The City, in Muscle Shoals and not only does Janeway’s possess an amazing voice there appears to be a genuine understanding and love of soul music in the groove. The majority of these new/old soul combos leave me cold but for the most part Half The City positively smoulders.  

10.  Manic Street Preachers – “Europa Geht Durch Mich” (2014)

Futurology isn’t the masterpiece some have claimed but it’s still very good and easily the best Twelfth Album Of A Career a band has ever made.

BOBBY WOMACK at THE FORUM, LONDON

It’s a game of two halves as veteran midfield workhorse Bobby Womack proved on Tuesday when he performed a couple of sets at the Forum in Kentish Town.

In the first half he lined up to showcase songs from his current The Bravest Man In The Universe album. He began, sat on a stool, with a guitar, by delivering a soul-stirring reading of the old gospel standard “Deep River”. It’s one of the best tracks on the album but to witness it, to experience it first hand, shone a light on how powerful and affecting live music can be. That was true of the whole set which featured mainly new songs plus a couple gospel classics. His small combo featured the album’s producers Damon Albarn and Richard Russell who let Bobby’s voice – soaring high, swooping low and with those gruff bluesy licks like Bobby Bland - take the lead and accompanied it with a fat bass sound, minimal percussion, and various electronic beeps, clacks and squiggles. Womack - in black hat, nice black jacket, shades and striped jersey - sounded timeless yet the music was now and worked well, especially in a live setting. I wasn’t too fussed about the album beforehand but it came to life here and showed soul music can be contemporary yet still keep its church roots. An uplifting “Jubilee (Don’t Let Nobody Turn You Around)” ended the first half before Bobby departed and left everyone to “go to the bathroom or go for a joint”.  

The second half, with a completely different and larger band, bought a complete transformation from the instant Womack was introduced with a cry of “It’s Showtime.” And showtime it was: Showtime on an expensive cruise liner or showtime around the pool in Marbella in 1988. Bobby, having looked the model of understated cool, had changed into a red leather cap and jacket mistaking the Forum for a fetish club. The songs were drawn out and embellished with guitar solos, alto solos and a herd of backing singers fighting for attention; all of which threatened to drown out the vocal he’d so impressed with previously.

I’ve focused on the negative and on other occasions I might’ve been content simply to hear “Across 110^th Street”, “Harry Hippie” (which I love), “That’s The Way I Feel About Cha”, “Stop On By”, “Lookin’ For A Love” etc (all of which he sang) but it was impossible not to notice the stark contrast to the first set. Judging by the audience reaction to both I was in the minority as what looked like the North London Guardian readers’ convention whooped their delight every time he broke into a tribute to Marvin Gaye or Wilson Pickett or whoever. Womack’s CV - from his Sam Cooke days to Gorillaz - is phenomenal, I can’t knock him and the fella has even been treated for colon cancer this year so to then do shows like this speaks volumes about his character. He wasn’t bad - far from it, he's voice has kept remarkably well - but this soul cabaret "this is for all the lovers in the house" style is horribly dated and does a man of his standing no favours. By the time it got to a plinky-plonky version of “It’s All Over Now” I was wishing it was.

Back in the late 80s The Housemartins scored all their gigs like football results. Applying that here Bobby Womack stormed to a deserved 3-0 half-time lead only to throw it away in the second half. Final score: 3-3.    

SEPTEMBER PLAYLIST

Some highlights from this month's listening...

1. The What Four – “I’m Gonna Destroy That Boy” (1966)

Guitarist Cathy Cochran from this New York group said their records sounded “like an all-girl choir from a detention home”. Nice description, fabulous record.

2. Darrow Fletcher – “My Young Misery” (1966)

Darrow was aged between eleven and fourteen when he wrote then recorded this astonishing belter. A full collection of the material he scattered across several labels during the 60s and 70s is long overdue as I’ve not heard a bad one yet, and don’t expect to when he appears at the 100 Club on the 1^st of November.

3. Sarah Jane – “Listen People” (1966)

Many thanks to Bill from Anorak Thing for turning me on to this lovely Brit-folk single.

4. The Seeds – “Rollin’ Machine” (1966)

No other so-called garage band had as many brilliant songs as The Seeds. Their closest competitors had three, four or five. The Seeds had thirty or forty. I’ve picked this one at random. I wish Sky Saxon was still with us.

5. Big Daddy Green – “Who Done It” (1970)

From Louisiana, and he sounded like a big fella. What separates “Who Done It” from other swampy R&B 45s is the fuzz guitar that weaves its way through the grooves.

6. The Soul Children – “I Don’t Know What This World Is Coming To” (1972)

Public Enemy famously sampled the “Brothers and sisters” introduction for “Rebel Without A Pause” but the whole seven minutes of this Wattstax message song is funky vamping, hand clapping, testifying of the highest order (and cruelly cut from the film).

7. Bobby Womack – “There’s One Thing That Beats Failing” (1974)

There’s no bad track on Lookin’ For A Love Again and none better than this ender which with its spoken word parts, soaring strings, and soul man love throat does in a brisk three minutes what sometimes took Isaac Hayes quarter of an hour. 

8. The Staple Singers – “I Want To Thank You” (1975)

The Let’s Do It Again soundtrack written and produced by Curtis Mayfield and performed by The Staple Singers doesn’t rank among the finest artistic achievements of either (despite the title track being a US Billboard number 1 on the pop and soul charts) but it’s still a collaboration made in heaven and a classy LP.

9. The Adverts – “Bombsite Boy” (1978)

I was always put off The Adverts due to TV Smith being a punk with long curly hair which was unduly harsh on my part seeing how I overlooked that thing on Bruce Foxton’s head.  

10. The Wicked Whispers – “Dandelion Eyes” (2012)

Debut single from Liverpool band the Wicked Whispers could be the umpteenth single from The Coral, which is a compliment in the Psychedelic Jangle Handbook. 

AUGUST PLAYLIST

I know you lie awake wondering what I’ve been listening to. Wonder no more.

1. The Horace Silver Quintet – “Blowing The Blues Away” (1959)
Rule of thumb dictates jazz numbers with “blues” in the title should be avoided unless you fancy a eight minute nap. Silver demolishes that rule, leading his quintet with an almighty bash on the ole joanna in half the time and with twice the energy.

2. Roberta Daye – “I’m Never Gonna Cry Again” (1960)
John Manship has this neat popcorn 45 on sale for the frankly ludicrous sum of £150, which made the addition of it to the DJ box for £20 all the sweeter. Where do these prices come from?

3. Danny Brown – “Chewing Gum” (1962)
More piano pounding, this time on a R&B mover that’s begging for dance floor action. And will get it.

4. The Impressions – “Can’t Satisfy” (1966)
Take your pick. For some reason the new Impressions comp has a live version of this instead of the single version. It matters not.

5. The Hollies – “Look Through Any Window” (1966)
There’s no need to fear the Hollies, kids.

6. George Harrison – “Let It Down” (1970)
Oh Christ on a tangerine bike, the Beatles are coming. Again. Batten down the hatches, September is gonna be a ‘mare as their albums are re-re-re-re-re-launched and some poxy computer game gets hyped to kingdom come. I’m taking refuge in Harrison’s triple LP All Things Must Pass to avoid anything John fucking Lennon related.

7. Bobby Womack – “Harry Hippie” (1972)
It’s lyrically naff and Womack makes Harry sound more like a tramp than a hippie but it’s a beautiful record nonetheless, helped by Bobby laying off his Mr Lurve Man growl for once.

8. Menace – “G.L.C.” (1977)
There’s nothing like a well constructed, well crafted, thought out, clever, intelligent, insightful lyric laden with meaning, mystery and depth. Take it away, Menace: “GLC GLC, GLC GLC, You’re full of shit, shit, shit shit shit”. Er, yeah.

9. The Milkshakes – “Love Can Lose” (1984)
He may not appear to play it often but there’s more than one string to Billy Childish’s musical bow, as this twangy reworking of The Who’s “Circles” testifies.

10. New Order – “All The Way” (1989)
History now decrees The Stone Roses as the defining album of 1989 yet it was New Order’s Technique that provided the soundtrack to that summer, with the Roses only truly catching on come November with “Fools Gold” and the Alexandra Palace gig, which although keenly anticipated, was a huge let down. Only two overtly acid-house numbers seriously date Technique, the rest is pure bliss, and to my ears still the album of ’89. But then I’m a willfully contrary so and so.