Showing posts with label graham day and the forefathers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label graham day and the forefathers. Show all posts

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

GRAHAM DAY & THE FOREFATHERS - GOOD THINGS (2014)

There’s a moment after the lute solo in “Sucking Out My Insides”, and just before the orchestra and choir come in, when for the first time in his career Graham Days breaks into a beautiful falsetto to deliver the song’s heart-wrenching final verse.

Yeah, right. No, what the listener finds on the first album by Graham Day & The Forefathers are a dozen new versions of songs from Day’s back catalogue (six Solar Flares, three Prisoners, two Gaolers, one Prime Movers) delivered in a reassuringly familiar manner. In fact, they aren’t really what one would call new versions – there’s nothing like Bob Dylan playing Name That Tune with his audience or even Howlin’ Wolf psychedelicizing his blues – Day’s simply got songs out of storage and blasted the dust off with a crate load of Medway TNT. These are brash and boisterous songs performed with super-charged, pent-up energy. It’s like Graham Day of old, only more so. His vocals and wah-wah guitar assaults are the stuff of legend and with Allan Crockford and Wolf Howard’s formidable rhythm section striking everything with extra gusto it’s a heavyweight collection.

If accepted wisdom tells us Dave Davies’s crunching power-chords gave birth to heavy metal then it doesn’t take a DNA test on the Jeremy Kyle Show to show Good Things as one of its errant offspring. It’s such a hard rocking album one can’t help wonder how much of Day’s audience continues to be populated by Mods whose traditional musical preferences lie elsewhere. There is, it seems, space for at least one guitar hero and rock god in everyone’s life. The only time I take my air-guitar off its stand is to play along to Graham Day and I snapped a few strings giving it a workout to Good Things.

Much of Day’s audience though has dipped in and out over the years so some song choices here will be more familiar than others but Good Things is a great leveller. Covering four bands and about twenty five years of song writing it would take an incredibly perceptive ear to distinguish the origins of each track; such is Day’s singular vision to no-nonsense tunes.  

It’s fleetingly tempting to listen to these tracks back-to-back with the originals versions to play better/worse but that’s not the point. Good Things is best enjoyed without drawing direct comparisons with the originals; I’ve pointedly not listened to the versions back-to-back but my hunch is some are slightly improved. Day’s music has never been something to over-analyse, so think of this as a live-in-the-studioBest Of Graham Day album. Stick it on your record player, whack it up as loud as your neighbours will allow, and enjoyGood Things

Good Things by Graham Day & The Forefathers is released on Own Up Records at the band’s gig at the 229 Club in London on Friday 31st October.

Tuesday, 8 July 2014

"IF YOU TRY AND DO SOMETHING COMPLETELY ORIGINAL IT'LL BE TOTAL SHIT": THE GRAHAM DAY INTERVIEW


Graham Day & The Forefathers, Bethnal Green Working Men's Club, 2013
Graham Day, the Medway powerhouse singer, songwriter and guitarist, formed the Prisoners at school in the late 70s and made four albums, including the bona fide classic The Last Fourfathers in 1985, which continue to inspire and thrill today. After a cooling off period following the demise of the Prisoners he headed a succession of bands – the Prime Movers, Planet, the Solarflares, Graham Day & the Gaolers – all tough and uncompromising; his music – granite slabs of his own unmistakable brand of garage rock with tough melodies – eschewing the vagaries of fashion. After the second Graham Day & the Gaolers album, Triple Distilled in 2008, he hung up his guitar until last year when, with long-standing friends and bandmates Allan Crockford and Wolf Howard, he returned, to the delight of his legion of fans, to front Graham Day & the Forefathers, playing songs spanning the whole of his career to date.

I was delighted to finally pin Graham down (figuratively speaking) for a rare interview. 

What has the reaction been to Graham Day & the Forefathers? Is it what you expected?
It’s been fantastic and pretty unexpected I suppose. We never intended to make it a regular thing but the reaction has been so good we decided to carry on for a while.

You made two great albums as Graham Day & the Gaolers and then disappeared. What happened? What were you doing the meantime?
For me the Gaolers were amazing. I’d sort of retired and had been playing bass with the Buff Medways. Billy [Childish] decided that had run its course and that was that, but my mate Dan from a band called the Woggles was over in England visiting some friends and we met up in London for a beer. He told me I should start a new band with him and the Woggles bass player. Sounded like a great idea so they flew back over a couple of months later and we made the first Gaolers album, Soundtrack To The Daily Grind. There were no real plans to tour as it was a bit of a logistical nightmare with them both being in the USA but it was so good we just had to. It sort of carried on from there. I thought our second album, Triple Distilled, was the best thing I’ve ever done and we did some great tours, but touring takes so much energy and time, and we could never do single gigs as it was too expensive to bring Dan over so we ended up not playing again. I’ve never said it was finished but it sort of fizzled out. What was I doing in the meantime? Retired again I suppose.  

What made you get back out there playing again in 2013?
The Prime Movers did our first album, Sins Of The Fourfathers, on a German label, Unique Records. Last year was their 25th anniversary and they asked us to play a one-off show playing that album at their party near Dusseldorf. It sounded like a fun plan but too much effort to just play one gig, so we added three gigs and made it a mini-tour. It also wasn’t interesting or long enough just to play songs off that album so we added a few Solarflares and Prisoners songs to the set. It was so much fun and went down really well so we decided to carry on doing it. But by the end of the mini-tour we’d dropped most of the Prime Movers songs and were playing more Solarflares, Prisoners and a couple of Gaolers songs so it seemed ridiculous to call it the Prime Movers any more. So we came up with the Forefathers because of the Prisoners reference and stuck my name on the beginning just to tie up the fact we were playing songs I’d written in all the bands over the years. 

The Prime Movers changed quite dramatically across three albums, most notably with Arc in 1993 which had a strong prog-rock feel. What are your thoughts on those albums?
I love the first album. It’s totally raw and full of energy. We recorded it as a three-piece but never gigged as a three-piece. Fay [Hallam/Day] used to join us on stage for half the set and then started writing songs and was soon with us full time. The band changed pretty quickly due to Fay’s influence. I have no idea what really happened to the sound, it turned into Deep Purple during the next two albums, and live I thought it was great, although pretty self-indulgent and very strange. I was quite happy to go along with it at the time because it was something different but looking back on it I don’t understand it at all. It sounds totally alien and often laughable, like a piss take. When people talk about the Prime Movers I’ve subconsciously deleted those last two albums – Earth Church and Arc - and think of it as nothing to do with me although I’m undoubtedly guilty as charged.
The Prisoners, 100 Club, 1985
 How do you feel about the esteem The Prisoners are held in?
It’s always puzzled me how much people go on about the Prisoners. At the time we did okay in London and France but elsewhere we were pretty unknown and played a lot of gigs to bar staff in mostly empty venues. I never thought of the band as being particularly special; everyone we knew was in a band and it seemed just the normal thing to do. I thought we were pretty good live but never managed to make a record which did us justice. It was the wrong time for our music; the popular thing was New Romantic and recording studio engineers tried to make us sound like the music of the time. We had constant frustrating battles trying to explain what we were about and never getting it. The press mostly hated us and said were out of date and just retro shit.

Have the Prisoners overshadowed your work since?
The adoration people have shown that band over the years astounds me. It’s very touching but has also been annoying at times. Most of the stuff I’ve done since has been fairly well received but totally overshadowed by the Prisoners. Every gig people shout for Prisoners songs and it made me feel like they just wanted a nostalgia trip and weren’t prepared to let me move on. Sometimes people get quite aggressive about it and think I owe them something. Promoters would ring up to offer a gig but they wanted a Prisoners reunion, not the current band. For a songwriter that can be quite damaging, as if my musical career ended at age 22 and has been worthless ever since. There’s no point carrying on unless you really think what you’re doing is the best stuff you’ve ever done and with a couple of exceptions I’ve always believed that. So it has been frustrating to think that no-one else agrees with you.

No chance of any more Prisoners reunions then?
There are still people who want the original Prisoners line-up to get back together, which will never happen again, and it still manages to piss me off. We did some reunion gigs in the 90s and although nostalgic it just wasn’t the same. People have to realise that Johnny [Symons] has never played the drums since so was never relaxed or particularly good when we played and James [Taylor] has made a career out of jazz funk and plays the organ totally differently than he used to; which might be brilliant but unfortunately doesn’t work too well with those songs. Promoters will pay ten times our normal fee to get something which simply doesn’t work, that doesn’t make any sense, and I find it quite insulting that they wouldn’t understand that. The best thing about the Forefathers is that finally I’ve been able to stop fighting against the Prisoners. This is not a new band playing new material; it’s just about embracing the past and enjoying it for what it is. For the first time I’ve been able to appreciate those old songs and have found it quite emotional. Of course we’re now giving the audience what they’ve always wanted so the gigs are no longer a battle and are just one big happy party.
  
Am I right in thinking you look back at the Solarflares period the most fondly?
I loved the Solarflares. I wrote some of my best songs during that period and also learnt how to sing properly. It started off being quite popular but support dwindled slowly until it wasn’t worth doing it any more. We did some great tours and I look back fondly because we had such a laugh and got on so well together. For the first time we made some records which sounded like the band and I learnt how to produce decent records. I wouldn’t say I look back most fondly at that period; at the time yes, but I’ve enjoyed most things I’ve done and as I said earlier I always believe the current stuff is the best. Following that logic I would have to say the Gaolers was the best period. The happiest period is right now I suppose but that doesn’t count as it’s just a tribute band of ourselves.  

If the Solarflares had been your first band in the early 80s and the Prisoners later do you think they’d been judged differently?
Maybe it would be the exact reverse but I’m not sure. There was something really cool about the Prisoners, maybe because we were so young and because of the conflict between me and James which made it explosive at times. I think the Flares were more measured, happier and less cool as a result.

As well as fronting bands you’ve been in Thee Mighty Caesars and the Buff Medways. How was it taking a more back seat role to Billy Childish?
I started playing drums in the Mighty Caesars in 1986 while the Prisoners were still going and I loved it. I was getting pissed off with the Prisoners and loved the freedom to literally take a back seat and bash away on the drums in a cracking rock and roll band without the hassle of singing and feeling responsible for it. Some people got really angry that I did that. When we were gigging one night after the Prisoners split up someone from the audience grabbed me and shouted at me to stop playing this shit and get the Prisoners back together. I never played the drums before but loved it and still do. Same playing bass in the Buff Medways; I loved that for the same reasons. I’m not sure I would like playing guitar in someone else’s band, and definitely wouldn’t sing for anyone else, but on a different instrument it’s great fun.  

In what ways are you similar and different to Billy?
Billy and I are very different. We used to live in the same house during the Prisoners days and we’ve always got on really well. He’s much more driven than me, always doing something; be it songs, painting or writing, I’m the opposite and only do something if I’m inclined to. He will record every song he’s ever written and I’m much more self-critical and will bin a lot of stuff before I even play it to anyone else. His life is in the public eye and is a living breathing ‘artiste’ and social commentator; I’m just a normal bloke with a proper job and nothing to say who happens to play in a band for a hobby.
The Buff Medways farewell gig, Dirty Water Club, 2006
What inspired you to learn to play guitar?
 I started off playing bass, playing along to Stranglers and Rezillos songs in my bedroom. When me and Allan Crockford started a band in 1978 I found I was too fiddly on the bass and he was a good rhythm guitar player but couldn’t play lead, so we swapped. When I heard Syd Barrett playing guitar on The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn it blew my mind. I discovered how you could make a guitar sound so powerful without being ‘rock’ with loads of unnecessary notes, and it changed the way I viewed the instrument. Similarly with Steve Marriott’s guitar sound and playing, it made me question what a typical guitar player is expected to do.

And to write songs?
I found quite early on that I had some kind of ability to write songs. I suppose it starts off by being inspired by and developing or even copying other people. I’ve found over the years that if you try to do something completely original it’ll be total shit, which is why it’s never been done before. The Prisoners were quite plagiaristic, embarrassingly so at times. Sometimes I did that because I thought a song had a great chorus but rubbish verse or vice-versa and wanted to improve the song. “Midnight To Six Man” is a good example of what I mean. I always loved the song but hated the chorus so I wrote a different one and called it “Be On Your Way”. Generally songs have tended to come to me when I’m trying to sleep at night. I sort of dream about seeing us on stage playing the song and realise I haven’t written it yet. So I have to get up and whisper it into a tape recorder because I know it’ll be forgotten in the morning. If a song doesn’t come together in ten minutes I usually bin it. These days I find it funny to play some of those songs I wrote as an angst-ridden teenager, singing some of those angry misogynistic lyrics now aged 50.

Did you always see yourself as vocalist?
Vocally I struggled for a long time. I never thought of myself as a singer and all the people I loved I tried to emulate to disastrous effect. Phil May, Steve Marriott, all them great soul singers, I quickly realised I wasn’t ever going to be them and had to try to find my own voice. I think I found it sometime during the Solarflares period and I’m only really happy with it in recent years. Just listen to the vocals on Thewisermiserdemelza to hear one of the main reasons I hate that album.

You mentioned about some of the songs you wrote as a teenager. How old were you when you wrote your first album A Taste Of Pink? How do you feel listening back to them?
I think the earliest songs I wrote which made that album were “Say Your Prayers” and “Don’t Call My Name” and I was 16. I still like some of those songs; they have a beautiful naivety and simplicity which can never be recreated. I’ve always been very anal about music and consequently I’m very narrow-minded. I think that’s why on the whole I was still writing songs with 3 or 4 chords, a guitar riff and a simple melody, recording it in the most basic way possible right up until the last album.

Does song writing come easily now or does it involve a lot of concerted effort? What’s your usual writing method?
I still don’t understand how I write songs. As I said they just come to me. If I sit down with a guitar and say right, I’m going to write a song now, it’ll never happen. I’ve never been someone who always writes songs for fun and have only ever done it when I’m inspired to by having an album or a new band to energise me. I think I’m just essentially lazy. Having said that if we’re recording a new album I’ll probably write a batch of crap first, then the juices will flow and I can normally come up with the music really quickly. Lyrics are another matter completely and I hate writing them. I often used to gig a new song and make the words up as I go along and hope something sticks. The only real exception to that is the last Gaolers album. I had so much fun writing those lyrics as they’re all about touring and past experiences, and some of the best things I’ve written. I absolutely detest some of the shitty lyrics I’ve written in the past particularly about conservation or trying to say something meaningful.  

Has the Forefathers got those juices flowing and given you the urge to write any new material?
Not yet. I do have some new stuff I wrote before which was for a possible new Gaolers album and I also started writing an instrumental album but with no real chance of the Gaolers playing again I gave up.

What made you choose “Love Me Lies” as the first single to be released by Graham Day and the Forefathers?
No real reason actually. We recorded the whole set of backing tracks live and when it came to choosing one for a single I just felt drawn to that song.

I assumed it was because you were unhappy with the original on Thewisermiserdemelza. I love that record but you’ve been very critical of it. Why?
Yes I hate Thewisermiserdemelza for lots of reasons. One is the real disappointment with the sound. We had Phil Chevron - rest his soul - as producer; it was the first time we’d had a producer and we had very different ideas about the album. Fair enough but it was our album so he should have listened to us. I’ve already said that at that time studio engineers would try to get you to sound modern and that’s the last thing we wanted. So from the outset we just fought against the engineer and producer. Some conflicts can result in a fiery, energetic battle which can get really good results. This one did the opposite. Secondly I hate the vocals. I just tried to put on some silly gruff voice which sounds completely false. Phil to his credit did try to get me to sing properly but I didn’t listen. It was my 20th birthday during the recording session and I was just pissed most of the time we were there. Lastly I just don’t like many of the songs on the album. I was clearly going through some kind of psychedelic ballad period and just don’t like it.

How has your taste in music changed/developed over the years? What do you listen to now that you wouldn’t have when you were starting out?
I don’t really listen to music that much as I know all my records inside out and I don’t like modern music. I’m cursed by the love of a certain type of recording sound and find it incredibly difficult to like anything if it doesn’t sound like that. I haven’t liked much music since the punk era; although the recording of punk music is really poor I guess I’ve forgiven it because that’s what I grew up with. 

What three records have left the most lasting impression on you and why?  
Piper At The Gates Of Dawn because Syd Barrett inspired my early guitar playing; The Pretty Things first album because it introduced me to blues, great singing and the ultimate sound of rock and roll; and the Kinks Kontroversy because it showed me how good songs can be.

If you had to pick three of your own albums to best represent your career which would they be and why?  
The Last Fourfathers because it’s the best and most representative Prisoners album; That Was Then And So Is This by the Solarflares because we were at our peak then, touring and loving it; and Triple Distilled by the Gaolers because it’s the best album I’ve ever made.
Graham Day & The Gaolers, 100 Club, 2008
This interview was conducted on behalf of the New Untouchables Nutsmag and first appeared here. Thanks to Rob Bailey for setting it up and, of course, to Graham for being so generous with his time and being so open to my interrogation. All photos by Mark Raison.

“Love Me Lies” by Graham Day & The Forefathers is out now on State Records. The band play the 229 Club in London on Friday 31st October 2014, tickets here.

Friday, 27 June 2014

FALSE MEMORY LANE: THE ALLAN CROCKFORD INTERVIEW


Bass players - stood on the side of the stage, doing their job, rarely seeking attention, allowing the limelight to shine on others to take the plaudits. That’s the natural order of things but on occasions, for one reason or another, the bassist forgets their place and decides they want a bit more attention. They want to write songs, they want to sing, they want to be the focal point. The results, should anyone bother to listen, are seldom welcome: Bill Wyman’s “Je Suis Un Rock Star”; Bruce Foxton’s “Freak”; John Entwistle’s “Too Late The Hero”; anything to do with Peter Hook; you get the idea. All of which makes Allan Crockford’s successful switch from bedrock of multiple Medway beat combos including the Prisoners, the James Taylor Quartet, the Prime Movers and the Solarflares, to become the mastermind behind the Galileo 7 all the more of a welcome surprise.

Following Are We Having Fun Yet? (2010) and Staring At The Sound (2012) the new Galileo 7 album, False Memory Lane is their best yet. Crockford on vocals and guitar - with Viv Bonsels (organ), Mole (bass) and Russ Baxter (drums) - hasn’t been content to stay on familiar ground and regurgitate versions of his previous bands; instead he offers a fresh perspective on his talent. There’s little of the crash-bang-wallop Medway punk ethos in evidence; replaced with a more considered and thoughtful approach to both the writing and recording. The default position, such as there is one – as shown on previous Galileo outings – is of a bouncy English pop-psych band. There’s a strong 60s feel but on this new album in particular there’s an ear for at least the following three decades to stop it sounding like a pastiche or overly contrived. “Tide’s Rising”, “Don’t Follow Me”, “My Cover Is Blown” and “Don’t Want To Know” are business-as-usual, mixing fuzz guitars and organ, and whilst not truly psychedelic there are spacey sci-fi touches with brightness and colour throughout. But where False Memory Lane excels is when it deviates from the template, and it does so with admirable frequency.

The healthy scope of styles indicates Crockford’s willingness to experiment and a growing confidence in his writing. The title track is the most obvious example with Allan’s vocal backed only by a mellotron, handclaps and a finger-picking acoustic guitar reminiscent of Pete Townshend. Even better is the superb “Fools” which transports Strawberry Fields to Rochester High Street. “Don’t Know What I’m Waiting For” is sung by Viv and sounds like a new wave band mercifully cropping up to save an edition of Top Of The Pops in the late 70s and then covered by The Primitives (“Viv wanted a Primitives type song to sing, so I wrote one,” says Allan). “You’re Not Dreaming” has a spiralling melody and is more sinister sounding yet “Nobody Told You” manages to joyfully mix a clippity-clop Syd Barrett rhythm with a bubble gum ba-ba-ba-ba-ba chorus, vocal harmonies and a hint of the Left Banke. No mean feat. “Little By Little” is the heaviest psych-trip on show and had this been on young whippersnappers Temples’ album it’d be on hipper radio stations’ playlists quicker than you could say Their Satanic Majesties Request. Personal favourite is “I’m Still Here” which ties sepia-tinged lyrics to a magnificent melody and almost Big Star guitars in a way I’ve not heard done as well since Bronco Bullfrog’s albums of the late 90s. “I’m still here,” Allan sings, “saying the things that you don’t want to hear.” Au contraire Mr. Crockford, au contraire, on this evidence I want to hear much more. A terrific album by anyone’s standards.

With that in mind, Monkey Picks collared Allan to quiz him about the Galileo 7; revisiting his back catalogue with Graham Day & The Forefathers; and, of course, gently bend his ear about a couple of his old bands.

Give us a little background to the Galileo 7.
It started as me making demos at home and putting them on-line for whoever stumbled on them. I didn’t want to put them under my own name so I invented a band name. The Galileo Seven is an episode from the original Star Trek series and I always thought it sounded like a band. There was another episode called The Cloudminders that I liked as well. Sometimes I wish I’d chosen that one, because ‘Galileo’ is a bit difficult for some people to say. Having said that, Galileo was a good man for many reasons so he got the vote.

What's the fascination with Star Trek?
I liked it when I was a nipper, and any TV or music you grow up with stays with you pretty much forever. It's the power of emotional nostalgia, not necessarily a reflection of the quality of the thing you're remembering. There was a good few years when it wasn't shown on British TV and its reputation grew during the time we couldn't see it. The power of absence. I'm a big fan of Laurel and Hardy as well, and there was also a time when we couldn't see them on British TV for copyright reasons, so all we had was memories of how great these programmes were. And of course they get better the longer you go without seeing them. Like a good footballer who has a long term injury whose reputation grows in his absence while the team struggles. It's the old excitement of digging out records that you've only heard about, or heard fleetingly on the radio a long time ago. It's not an experience that people younger than us really have any more, because everything is so easy to find nowadays. I like the fact that I can now get hold of any piece of music, TV programme, film or whatever instantly, but I also miss that surge of excitement we used to get when we'd come across something long lost, buried, forgotten or unknown. I'm glad that I had that experience. As you can tell, I'm quite interested in the truth or otherwise of memory.

That’s all right then. With your band’s name and The Prisoners appearing on Channel 4 in Star Trek outfits I was worried you were a Trekkie…
No, I'm not a Trekkie! The uniforms on The Tube weren't my idea. I hate dressing up. But there's no doubt at all that it was a good idea, because everyone remembers us, and it did look good. The shirts were hand made by, I think, Johnny Symon's girlfriend and finished off in the van going up to the recording by someone else's girlfriend. I don't go to conventions or speak Klingon.

After all the bands you’ve been in, the Galileo 7 is the first time you’ve taken centre-stage. Was writing something you’d always wanted to do?
I wanted to try it because I’d started writing songs relatively late in my musical life. I’d been playing in bands for twenty years or more before I wrote my first song. I had no idea whether I could do it. I started writing during my time in The Stabilisers but it was more to do with mucking about making home demos than thinking I was ‘writing’. I didn’t really have any inclination before that at all. I thought it was a dark art and that I hadn’t been blessed. That’s why I was always the one in the bands who did all the practical stuff. I thought I had to make up for being uncreative.

Was there ever any frustration in always playing other peoples’ songs – predominately those of Graham Day?
I never felt frustration as such. Why should I feel frustrated playing Graham’s songs? They were mostly great, and he is one of the best singers of the last 30 years, and even up there with some of the recognised ‘superstars’.

Were you nervous about singing?
Not nervous as such but very aware of my limitations. Maybe too aware and self-critical. I’m not the best singer in the world – I’m not even the best singer in the band - and I’ve been in bands with some great singers so I was always on a loser if anyone compared me to them. But I believe in the songs and I had no alternative at that point. And I wanted the challenge. Being out of one’s comfort zone is good for the soul, although sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, especially when my throat is gone after five songs. I’ve got no technique!

Did you have to find a vocal style you were comfortable with?
I haven’t got a style, I’m just trying to remember the words and sing roughly in tune. It’s a kind of artless style if anything. Maybe kind of close to Syd Barrett. Not as good as him but kind of deadpan and underplayed. There’s no point in trying to develop a style at my age. It would be me doing a poor impersonation of someone else. You can do that when you’re young and still developing because most people end up sounding like something different and unique by mistake. At my age I’d rather just get better by doing it more.

What’s it been like trying to get your own band heard? I guess the recent formation of Graham Day & the Forefathers has helped raise the profile of the Galileo 7?
Well it hasn’t hurt. I’ve never been under any illusions about the amount of people who might be interested in our stuff just because I was in the Prisoners and all the other bands. Musically it’s not a million miles away, but I’m trying to do something a little different. A lot of Prisoners fans are very, very focused on just that band and Graham, and are really not that interested about what I’m doing. I accept that and I’d be the same if the bass player in a band I liked starting his own band playing guitar. It’s always the singer and songwriter that keeps the fans, and rightly so. But the Forefathers starting playing has maybe reminded a few people that I’m doing my own stuff and the more open minded ones have given us a listen.

Did Graham Day & the Forefathers come as a surprise or had you felt Graham itching to get out there again?
I don’t think Graham was particularly itching to start playing again, but it sounded like a bit of laugh when we discussed it down the pub. After the first few gigs it was obvious that we were still good, and more importantly, it was fun, especially picking and choosing whatever songs from whatever band we’ve been in together. It’s a big catalogue of songs and playing the Prisoners stuff was bound to get people interested. But it’s also good to remind people of how well the Solarflares stuff stands up next to it and good for me to play some of the Gaolers songs. They’re all new to me and it brings a bit of freshness to the set.

How does it feel trying to push new material with the Galileo 7 and then seeing peoples’ enthusiasm about Graham Day & the Forefathers playing old material?
Completely understandable, as I said before. I know how much those songs mean to people: they mean a lot to me as well. It’s the acceptable face of nostalgia, as long we deliver them with some attitude and aggression then it works. And it’s nice to feel that we’re stirring emotions in people.
Graham Day & the Forefathers: Day, Wolf Howard, Allan Crockford
Talking of nostalgia, the title track on False Memory Lane contains the line “nostalgia’s not what it was” and talks about rewriting old events. Have you seen this with regard to your career? I’m thinking predominately about the Prisoners who in some ways have taken on a life of their own.
Well, the song is about the way we fool ourselves about our motives and actions when we look back, and sometimes adjust the recollection to suit what has happened since, or build a narrative arc onto our lives as if we weren’t just bumbling along making it up at the time. I don’t know if it applies to the Prisoners, although I’ve told the story of the band so many times that it does seem to have a plot line now, and I can no longer be sure what anyone’s motives were for what we did and didn’t do during that time. I usually now say that we did things because we were young, stupid, lazy or drunk rather than through any master plan or rugged independence of thought. I may be downplaying our intelligence at the time but I think that’s more honest from this distance.

We always read how the Prisoners were such an influence on bands like the Charlatans, Inspiral Carpets, Kula Shaker etc. How does that make you feel? Proud? Guilty? Cheated?
It’s hard sometimes not to feel that we missed out a little bit on some substantial success somehow, but on the other hand that means very little now. The fact that we slipped under the radar many times adds a bit of romance to the band. I’m happy with what we did and glad that we didn’t get sucked into the industry too much.

You got sucked in a bit. The end of the Prisoners came with the acrimonious relationship with Countdown records and all the trouble (fan base, outside producer etc) that brought. After the experiences with Big Beat making Thewisermiserdemelza with an outside producer why did you make what appeared to be similar mistakes again?
Our relationship with Big Beat wasn’t acrimonious at all so I don’t think we imagined that we were repeating any mistakes by signing to Countdown. With Big Beat we felt that we’d tried the record company thing and just fancied doing the next record ourselves. We never fell out with them. Countdown was another matter. We sort of knew what we were letting ourselves in for but it was a last roll of the dice to take the band a bit further. We were warned by various ex-Stiff artistes that it wouldn’t be straight forward and that we would have to relinquish control of many aspects of our sound. But I remember that we had the contract looked over by a solicitor and he said it wasn’t great, but if we were going to sign it we had to throw ourselves into it to make it work. We never did and battle lines were drawn pretty early in the relationship. It was a little bit glamorous at first, with Stiff being a proper famous label, in a posh building with Island Records, but it quickly soured when we were saddled with a producer who hadn’t even seen the band.

If you’d carried on putting out your own records would the Prisoners have lasted longer?
If we’d carried on making our own records we might have made one more, but I think we were all a bit knackered by the end. We didn’t have the energy or enthusiasm for the whole thing. We needed a rest and we took one.

You've put your new album out yourself, is that a method you'd recommend for young bands starting out, to keep as much control as possible?
It's born out of necessity. If someone actually offered to release our album as we recorded it and promised to work hard selling it, then I'd take that option. It's really hard work. I used to be the person who didn't write songs but did all the boring stuff like promoting and selling and essentially managing the band. Nowadays I still do that, but I've added writing all the songs, singing them, recording and producing the music as well. And managing all the processes of actually getting the product available; I think I've gone wrong somewhere. But it is my thing and somehow I have more time and energy to take on the responsibility than the others in the band. As it happens a label has offered to licence the next album and press it up and do all the boring but necessary stuff. If the offer still stands when we've actually recorded some new material next year, I might well take them up on it. As for young bands starting out, it's always a good idea to do a self-release if they're prepared to work really hard to get people to buy it. Making the music is the easy and fun part. The bit that makes it possible to carry on doing it is actually selling a few copies. But make sure everyone in the band does their share if possible.

After the Prisoners came the James Taylor Quartet. I’ve been playing those first few records again recently and they still sound fresh and exciting. Would I be right in thinking that was probably the time you were in the most commercially successful band?
I like the early JTQ stuff. It was an exciting time because it happened quite quickly. I think the early JTQ gigs picked up a lot of the Prisoners fans as it wasn’t that long after the split. Gigs were pretty packed almost immediately and stayed that way. I suppose it seemed like success in comparison to what went before but it wasn’t commercial success. We were making the records we wanted to make and they were selling okay. That’s about as good as it gets at our level of the business.

For a band central to the appearance of “Acid Jazz” you weren’t especially jazzy.
It’s got an innocence about it and it’s got nothing to do with jazz. Just some Medway herberts having a go at being Booker T and the MGs and coming up with some sort of garage version. As soon as funk reared its head I knew I wouldn’t last long in the band. I’m not that kind of bass player and our efforts didn’t sound too convincing or funky. I don’t really like a lot of what the band has done since. It’s just not my sort of music, although I occasionally hear the odd song that sounds like a throwback to what we were doing in my time in the band.

With all your bands - Prisoners, JTQ, Prime Movers, Solarflares, Goodchilde, Phaze, Stabilisers, Galileo 7, Forefathers - you’ve made a lot of records. Do you keep count? Have you kept copies of everything? Kept a scrapbook?
I haven’t counted recently but it must be around 35 albums or so. I’ve got copies of most of them, but I’m not really anal about keeping or collecting memorabilia. Sometimes I wish I had kept stuff, especially when people keep putting stuff up on Facebook that I’ve forgotten about. But I’m always more interested in moving on to the next thing.

What is the next thing? What have you got planned for the Galileo 7 and Graham Day & the Forefathers?
Plans don’t really exist, we just do what we fancy if circumstances allow. If we sell enough copies of the new Galileo 7 album then we’ll do another one. It’s not cheap to put out a physical product and difficult to sell them. But we’ve had an offer from a label to license our next album so maybe we’ll do that next year. The Forefathers will put out a live-ish album in a few months; recordings of songs we do in the set, done power trio style with no frills, in our rehearsal room. And both bands would like to play more gigs, but we’re up against the realities of life, family, work and middle age.

What are your interests away from music?
I'm not really sure. I like reading when I get a chance, but the opportunity for the kind of concentrated, head in a book for hours on end type of reading I like only happens for a couple of weeks a year on holiday. I always feel my brain waking up again after a couple of days of concentrated reading; taking in other people's words, ideas, philosophies, science. I usually get a few ideas for songs on holiday. Keeping fit-ish takes a bit of time but mostly my head is full of music or thoughts revolving around selling our album, wondering about making another one. I really should get a hobby unconnected with music. I'm kind of into history, philosophy and science but it only goes as far as reading lots of popular books on those subjects and watching lots of documentaries. Time to go back to school...

Huge thanks to Allan for his time and his music. For further info, to listen, and to buy from the Galileo 7 shop, visit the Galileo 7 website. 


Thursday, 26 June 2014

JUNE PLAYLIST


Some tunes to tuck into between World Cup matches. Come on Colombia!

1. The Blenders – “Don’t Fuck Around With Love” (1953)
Whilst recording their strolling doo-wop "Don't Play Around With Love” single for Jay-Dee, The Blenders cut an X-rated under-the-counter version which, unsurprisingly, didn’t see the light of day until 1971. 

2. Elmore James – “Stranger Blues” (1962)
“Shake Your Moneymaker” is up there with the most danceable blues records ever committed to vinyl and “Stranger Blues”, full of fizz and raw energy, ain’t far behind.

3. Johnny Kidd and the Pirates – “I Want That” (1962)
Kidd and his Pirates take Crash Craddock’s rather pedestrian US hit and shake it all over with a shot of early UK rhythm and blues. Damn good.

4. Les McCann Ltd – “Fake Out” (1967)
Few things in mod clubs get my goat as much as Latin Boogaloo. I don’t get it what it’s there for and it’s always the same five records. In the privacy of my own home I’m far more tolerate as the purchase of pianist Les McCann’s whole album of his take on the stuff, Bucket O’ Grease, demonstrates. Admittedly some of the attraction was the cool sleeve with three young ladies hanging out by cheap diner. 

5. The End – “You Better Believe It, Baby” (1966)
The recent feature in Shindig! magazine had me scurrying back to my End records. They really were a class act. If you can get hold of In The Beginning, a compilation that came out in 1996, with loads of their early stuff you’ll be well rewarded. “You Better Believe It, Baby” was a Joe Tex cover given a modish fuzz guitar overhaul for a Spanish single release.

6. Pinkerton’s – “Duke’s Jetty” (1968)
Pinkerton’s Assorted Colours dropped a word from their name on successive releases until they were left with only Pinkerton’s for their slightly schmaltzy blue-eyed soul of “There’s Nobody I’d Sooner Love” 45. Much better is “Duke’s Jetty” on the flip with its Mulberry Bush/Spencer Davis Group/Traffic vibe.

7. The Pazant Brothers – “Skunk Juice” (1968)
Don’t know about being brothers, it sounds more like the Pazants were total strangers who bumped into each other on a New York street carrying instruments and cut a crazy funk record there on the spot. More folk should try it.

8. The Violinaires – “Groovin’ With Jesus” (1973)
Oh yeah, over in Vietnam they’re groovin’ with Jesus, and Jesus has the biggest, fattest, meanest funk groove this side of Funkadelic.

9. The Damned – “Anti-Pope” (1979)
I only own one Damned album – Machine Gun Etiquette. Can’t imagine they made a better one.

10. Graham Day & The Forefathers - "Love Me Lies" (2014)
Former Prisoners out on release revisit an old memory, strangle it in wah-wah, and bash the remains to a bloody pulp with riffs of rock. Aided and abetted (on production duty) by someone with the unlikely name of Franc Localdork. These men are still dangerous. 

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

GRAHAM DAY & THE FOREFATHERS, THE HIGHER STATE and THE AARDVARKS at the BETHNAL GREEN WORKING MEN’S CLUB


When Graham Day, Allan Crockford and Wolf Howard reunited to play as The Prime Movers at the Blues Kitchen in May – and then tore a whacking great hole through Day’s songbook – it got Day’s juices flowing after a five year absence. What started as a couple of special shows under a previous moniker has now developed into something hopefully more substantial: a new name, a fresh start but - for now at least - familiar songs from The Prisoners, The Prime Movers, The SolarFlares and The Gaolers.

First up though, taking a similarly nostalgic approach to the Forefathers, were 90s Mod scene attractions The Aardvarks. Cherry Red this year issued Sinker, Line & Hook: The Anthology 1987-1999, which by accident or design has prompted the Ealing dandies to rekindle former glories. Always taking from a slighter later sixties period than their closest rivals The Clique, The Aardvarks dusted off their old Wimple Winch, Easybeats, Fleur De Lys/Sharon Tandy and Who covers but these were overshadowed by their own material, especially “Buttermilk Boy” and the Graham Dayesque “I Threw Her A Line”.  

The band may sport a few grey hairs these days - singer Gary is now less Scott Walker and more Roy Walker (please forward all complaints/credit for that remark to Mrs Monkey, I’m in no position to comment...) – but they did enough to bring back memories of their amazing 1995 Barcelona gig which still gets talked about along the length of the Uxbridge Road. There was surprisingly no “Arthur C. Clark”, which I always think of as their signature song, but maybe next time.

The Higher State also look back but not to their own past. Marty and Mole, as half of The Mystreated, played on bills with The Aardvarks at the St John’s Tavern and Boston Arms twenty years ago but now showcase tracks from their fourth album, The Higher State (matching the score of their previous combo). With chiming guitars and three-part harmonies they gained in momentum, switching between unadulterated folk-rock and intelligent garage-punk. By that I mean avoiding the usual “running round town/tryin’ put me down” garages clichés, although as Marty acknowledged when muttering an introduction to “Potentially (Everyone Is Your Enemy)” there is seldom an upbeat message. “Always so negative,” he sniggers.

Watching The Higher State finish off with a blissfully sunny sounding “Song Of The Autumn” was to be transported to Los Angeles in ’66, to the Troubadour, to the Whisky A Go Go – a far cry from a scuzzy, down-at-the-heel East End working men’s club in 2013.

I expected Graham Day & The Forefathers to romp through their collective back catalogue and that’s exactly what they did. The Prime Movers’ “Good Things”, followed by the lesser-spotted Prisoners B-side “Promised Land”.  There were Gaolers songs (“Get Off My Track”) and a handful of SolarFlares numbers (“Mary”  etc.).

The absence of an organ didn’t matter (I could still hear one in my head) as the Medway powerhouse trio drove through in typically hard hitting style. Day, crunching out his riffs, his purple shirt soaked through to the skin, gets top billing but Crockford and Howard’s contribution to that sound should never be underestimated. They crashed, banged and walloped anything and everything within striking distance. It would’ve been easier to bash a hole in a prison wall than find a weakness in these monumentally tough slabs of songs. There was no let up. A quick catch of breath and then BANG, off again.

I wasn’t taking full notes as I didn’t want the distraction but jotted down the Prisoners ones as I knew I’d forget. “Better In Black”, “Creepy Crawlies”, “Whenever I’m Gone”, “Be On Your Way”. They kept coming. “Hurricane”, “Love Me Lies”, “Coming Home”. I only had a small scrap of paper. “I Am The Fisherman”, “Reaching My Head”. Blimey. And then the finale, “Melanie”. Not only were people cheering, they were dancing. At a gig. In London. Is this allowed? Incredible scenes.

Next stop is back to the old Prisoners haunt of the 100 Club on Saturday 8th February. It’ll be great like this was. There’s no immediate rush for new songs as there’s enough oldies to chop and change but on this form it’s a tantalising thought for the future. 

Sunday, 8 September 2013

GRAHAM DAY and ALLAN CROCKFORD of THE PRISONERS on THE MODCAST

Graham Day, The Prisoners live at the 100 Club, 1985
In the thirty years following The Prisoners and their various offshoots I can only remember two interviews with Graham Day. The first was in Go-Go fanzine circa 1985 and the second was around 2007 in his Gaolers period.

It’s therefore long overdue to hear Graham and Allan Crockford interviewed for a full hour by Eddie Piller and Dean Rudland in edition 29 of The Modcast. Talk is largely centred on The Prisoners but also covers the other bands they've been in together and separately (Prime Movers, James Taylor Quartet, Solarflares, Planet, Galileo 7, The Forefathers, the list goes on).

It was a surprise in 1986 when The Prisoners signed to Eddie Piller’s fledgling mod label Countdown. The band had pointedly kept mod at a safe distance and their gigs were only attended by a few of the more “progressive mods” but after throwing their lot in with Countdown they were guilty by association and, much to their chagrin, still can’t shake an undeserved mod tag.

This doesn’t stop Piller at the outset of the interview continue with his assertion they were a mod band whether they like it or not. A slightly brave (or insensitive) move considering it was his involvement that gave people that impression. I understand Eddie’s logic - if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck - but it was such a restrictive tag and The Prisoners had nothing in common with any other band of the era with that title. And it was a time when music and youth cults stuck to their own – none of this open, cross-pollination of genres like today. One can almost hear Graham and Allan’s grinding teeth and clenching fists before adopting a more conciliatory tone.

Their year at Countdown was far from harmonious and rapidly brought about their demise. What isn’t clear is why the band signed for them in the first place. They’d already made three albums (for different labels) so it wasn’t like they jumped at the first deal offered. Piller describes how they remain the most difficult band he’s ever worked with. For such strong-headed individuals I can’t understand why they made such a dubious choice and then allowed such a patchy album to follow. My initial reaction to the opening tracks on In From The Cold was one of bewilderment. Where was the band I'd been watching for the last year? It’s tempting to play ifs and buts when considering bands who didn’t achieve commercial success and there’s ample opportunity with The Prisoners, yet what they did do was make some incredible records and play some amazing gigs. That'll do me.

Hear the full interview at The Modcast 29.

Wednesday, 28 August 2013

FROM THE ARCHIVES: THE PRISONERS at the SUBTERANIA, LADBROKE GROVE, THURSDAY 16th DECEMBER 1993

Jamie Taylor, The Prisoners farewell gig, 100 Club, London, 18th September 1986
This was written at the time for Something Has Hit Me issue 4 but has been stuck in a drawer ever since. Probably the best place for it but posted here as a reminder of a great night and to welcome back Graham Day and Allan Crockford (with Wolf Howard) now trading as Graham Day and The Forefathers. 

My, doesn’t time fly? It’s over seven years since The Prisoners whiskey fuelled farewell gig at the 100 Club in September 1986, when I remember Graham Day saying something like “That’s the last song you’ll ever hear us play”. Yet, for allegedly one night only, they are back to receive some rather late appreciation.

In the intervening years, Graham Day and Allan Crockford more or less stuck to their guns and produced some almost Prisoners Mark II material as the Prime Movers but for whatever unfathomable reason, no one in the UK gave a shit so they spent most of the time playing to more welcoming audiences in the rest of Europe. Jamie Taylor started calling himself James, formed the world’s largest quartet, almost single handedly created the Acid Jazz scene, only to influence a host of artists that became more commercially successful (certainly chartwise) than himself; which is precisely what happened to The Prisoners. They spilt and a couple of years later every tin pot indie band was slapping chunks of Hammond on their records and having hits, The Charlatans and Inspiral Carpets being the two most obvious. Johnny Symons dropped out of view, only to be spied at a Booker T. & The MGs gig where he denied ever being in the band.

Bearing in mind towards the end of their original days The Prisoners were struggling to get 100 people to the 100 Club, tonight’s huge sold out over-capacity crowd took me by surprise. Long before show time the place was packed solid.

Their biggest hit that never was, the brick-in-the-face impact of “Hurricane”, opened proceedings swiftly followed by “Reaching My Head”. Naturally enough everyone lapped it up but to my ears they lacked that special spark. Mind you, a bit of stage rust was only to be expected and I was struggling to find a decent vantage point to witness this historic event which didn’t help my mood.

Crockford, always one for the sarcastic quip, announced “Welcome to the golden hour,” and that’s what it turned out to be. From “Thinking Of You (Broken Pieces)” onwards things really started to hot up. I’d nearly forgotten how good songs like that were. Day was loosening up, flopping his long hair about whilst trying to keep hold of his guitar as it took on a wriggling electrifying life of its own. “Deceiving Eye” was a major highlight, delivered with real passion and brought back memories of the Fulham Greyhound and that ridiculous dance routine everyone did to the chorus - “You’ve been running, you’ve been hiding, you’ve been sleeping all over this town…” . I couldn’t spot anyone doing the actions (you can guess them) but they must’ve been somewhere.

The further into the set, the better the heady mix of Medway garage punk, late 60s rock and Small Faces instrumental rip-offs got. Not surprisingly perhaps, Jamie appeared to relish the chance to play the wonderful old go-go tunes again rather than have some rapper prance around in front of him. As far as I can remember, also included in the set were (I think), “Revenge of the Cybermen”, “Be On Your Way”, “There’s A Place”, “Better In Black”, “Explosion on Uranus” and perhaps “I Am The Fisherman” but it all whizzed by so fast it’s hard to recall properly and there’s no way I was going to take notes. “Happiness For Once” was never one of their greatest songs but the sod-you attitude was fully understandable. Then, all too soon, they were gone.

The encore featured an explosive version “Melanie” and Deep Purple’s (yeah, okay, Joe South’s) “Hush”. A touch of self-indulgence crept in here with long jamming sections stretching the song out for ages. Neither the band or the sweaty mass of punters wanted this to end.

Reunion gigs aren’t usually a good idea as they can tarnish a band’s good reputation but somehow The Prisoners were different. There was a definite point to prove and prove it they did. Nobody, but nobody, sounds like The Prisoners the way The Prisoners do.  
The Prisoners first reunion gig, Subterania, London, 16th December 1993. Filmed by Steve Duffield of support band Mild Mannered Janitors.