Dreamers: A Night with the BMX Bandits

Independent pop music in 1986 was genuinely that – it was independent – fierce in spirit and attitude – it was not part of the plan – it was immediate – simple and available from the right record shops or fanzine networks and tape exchanges.  I remember those times with both happiness and fondness. It was a time of awakening and feeling accepted – or not feeling accepted and knowing you weren’t the only outsider.

Not that I was an outsider – a loner – that was never my bag – give me a slightest hint of an audience and I’d be performing to it – liked the sound of myself see – clearly I still do – or I wouldn’t write this.  Yet 1986 was a formative time for many.  I was 14 – nearly 15 – growing up – the weight of the world sitting heavy on my shoulders and then along came all of these bands – shambling as John Peel said or jangly this and that – as various music journalists coined it. One newspaper  - the NME put some of this emerging independent experimentation together ‘on tape’ ( I’ve got it on tape – well a tape of the tape)  they called it C86. 

 As a rolling stone of  a tape it gathered momentum – it’s now viewed as a pivotal moment in defining an era – it didn’t feel like that at the time – it was just a tape with some songs on it that the NME gave away that week – some of them were shit songs ( you decide?)

However as the apocryphal story goes ‘this tape’ begat all other indie bands from that ground zero – thus we have that tape to thank for fucking Slowdive or The Chesterfields. (joke – natch)  However – it’s fair to say there was a lo-fi revolution taking place – The Smiths had opened our eyes  (another apocryphal story) and now out of that re-appreciation of rock n roll came these bands with 'soul' - not all about the hits but rather these bands were making something with integrity. It didn't matter that many of these fledging singles sounded cheap - under produced - it was all about existing - perhaps being on the outside of the mainstream - but here you could set the agenda.

The BMX Bandits have always been on my radar – not quite central – but there – pinging away – I know they are there - do you get what I mean? It turns out they’ve been there for thirty years.  I first met Duglas in South London – it was at a Teenage Fanclub gig at the Venue in New Cross (now home to three floors of independent sounds and lots of covers bands) but at that time they used to put on bands.  I was talking to Norman Blake or whoever and Duglas was there.  We struck up a short conversation about the magic of Brian Wilson.  

HE talked about SMiLE and promised to send me a copy.

He was true to his word. 

He sent me a tape. I don't know where he'd got it from - but it was such a lovely thing to do - he track listed it and put on a few other Beach Boys gems too.  It took another twenty-five years before I could thank him properly - via the wonders of the web (wonderweb?) and connections via cables.

There's something about that attention to detail and wonderfully openness that Duglas and his 'family' of Bandits have that can easily be mis-read - as twee and past it - or creepy and calculated - but if you look close into Duglas's eyes you can see he's been 'for real' since their formation. This is no novelty act. Tonight the 100 Club will be witness to another extension of PuNK (it's where it started maaaaaan) - that freedom to do just what you want to do.

Before the BMX Bandits - we have The School - a seven piece mish-mash of the Shangri-las, Motown, Spector, Beach Boys, The Pastels and dare it say it a C86 vibe - there's a craft in this Cardiff based troupe - horns and xylophones - pianos and guitars - layered vocals and sing along ding a lings - they are perfect in their own right. Reaching right back to the past to come up with something new. They are not twee - they will take you out in the underpass. You should all check them out - I will be doing so again.

And then this thronged crowd witness a beautiful pop performance - finely tuned and honest in its approach. Having read the piece in The Guardian previously – maybe it helped shift that perception of Duglas as eccentric rogue – and placed him in that rock n roll list of tortured artist – confronting his demons on stage through the simplicity of songs like ‘Your Class’. He's the Bellshill Brian Wilson - he even has the hand gestures to match.  

Love and mercy, indeed.

We are party to the wee talks from Duglas peppered with his observations and ultimate belief in love. His talks are funny - he is a funny man.  He eats an apple - he eats a boiled sweet. He plays the kazoo.  He gives us his best tunes.  It's a testament to this band that you can put a song as magical and wonderful as 'Serious Drugs' four songs in and know that you've got belter after belter left for the crowd. 

We are party to a pop band with tunes that should have been high in the hit parade.  I'm not going to try and describe the sound - but this is pure pop craft - there's a nod to the past  - you can't write songs like this without referencing Spector and Wilson - but there's so much more hidden inside Duglas and his Bandits heads - listen to the howling guitars of 'Kylie's got a crush on us' or the Ramones meets The Shirelles stomp of my favourite song of the night 'I wanna fall in love'.  Duglas and CHloe are in fine voice - they swap and harmonise all night - all sixties glamour and well tailored suits. Then there's the beauty of 'The Day before Tomorrow' were Duglas is joined by Sean Dickson (previously of The Soup Dragons) on omnichord. It's quite poignant really - Duglas tells us the tale of choosing their name and how him, Sean, Jim and Norman phoned up Eugene (from The Vaselines) to tell him their choices - how he hated the name the BMX Bandits - so they stuck with it. - and now here is Sean on stage once more with his boyhood pal - they hug after a riotous E102.

Pure class.

And then they are back to tell us of the injunction they have had to get to stop Kylie following them - cue Kylie's got a crush on us and then a blissed out Witchi Tai To to round it all off.

Glasgow in the early eighties must have been an exciting time - oh to be at Splash One. But you know I didn't need to be there - because of it - I've had a chance to hear those beautiful dreaming minds - Duglas, Norman, Sean, Bobby, Stephen, Rose,  - what a gang - what a set of groups.

What a bunch of beautiful dreamers.

It was a pleasure to be with Duglas and his Bandits in The 100 Club.  It's important to be reminded of the power of love. Duglas sings from his heart to yours and makes it seem that everything will work out right in the end. 

Anything is possible in Duglas's impossible dream.

BMX Bandits are thirty years old.  Here's to another 30 years.

Here is a wonderful song from the night - thanks as always to Ruth for capturing it

And here's one from The School 

Here's a couple of Likely Lads - Grin and hear it (see what I did there?)

Grin and bear it. A smile to fend off the ills of the world.  You get those feelings sometimes as you work through the final days of a long old haul at work – roll on the break. Chin up old man – we’ll see it through.

So here come The Wellgreen to spread their ever changing scene to the masses. It’s a new album see – another long player from the best players. Song number one – Grin and Bear It – sets the tone - like an updated Bay City Rollers with swagger (and there’s nothing wrong with that)  – you can feel yourself transported back to housing estates and blurred photographs of the family – with that boogie woogie backing – a sudden transmission from 1974 – similar to The Beach Boys rocking rocking chugging chugging roll of LA (Light Album) messed with a Wild Honey moment.  I think one the Rollers came from Prestonpans  - the other side of the Scottish tracks from these lads – and I get that sense of concrete and glam(our) melded in this stomping sure fire starter.

Like the opening to a sit-com scheduled just after The Likely Lads – there’s a flutter and smile in it all – I guess the album mines some of those Macca moments that run through With the Beatles right up to his last album – but as always - I can hear those Beach Boys chords and changes playing with my expectations – with fluid bass lines and familiar patterns - this long player feels like I already owned it – and that’s a good thing. The familiar (feel) flows through the nine songs on this lovingly crafted second album. I know my references will be obvious and not the ones that are clearly playing a part in the development of this set of super songs. (But tolerate them if you can) What I love about this album is that I can’t put my finger on the sound. As I said before – it’s the familiar. And that’s comforting.

There’s a whole heap of style – delivered with wit and honesty across this second album. Less sprawling than the final parts of their first. The songs sit well together – it’s a player – you know those days when you’d put a record on – play side one – turn it over and play side two. It has that feel – even down to the CD print (it looks like a record – you see’ll that when you buy it – and you will buy it – come on its Christmas for fuck’s sake – treat a friend – they’ll be your friend for life)

And the second song’s a smasher too – still with the feeling of flares and scuffed  shoes comes Sunday – not quite Monday – but I don’t like Mondays – shall I tell you why – it’s because I like Sunday – here’s the simple soundtrack written in glam high notes and pauses. Saying that, it has a feel of The Who’s  A Quick One – observational and sing-a-long . Quickly followed by gig staple Ants – hemmed into a Merseybeat sound – with sudden stops and descends – Ants scurries around the mind and sticks there – like the wee bastards in the houses. I don’t mean the The Wellgreen are wee bastards - just in case you mis-read me – I also picture them as red ants in the song ( another throwback to my seventies youth) And so to further the journey comes Train Song like a Simon and Garfunkel (with a hint of Freddie of the Dreamers – it’s the simplicity of that Casio beat) coupled with arpeggios courtesy of the MT100. With Marco and Stu lamenting that they just weren’t  born at the right time. Well they were. Because it means we have this music now and not in the past as nostalgia – it sits right here in 2013 as a testament to the fact that they can just write songs that aren’t affected and processed in a bombastic manner to knock the feeling right out of them.

I’ve said it before  - the fragility of The Wellgreen is there in the space and harmony. Which leads aptly into Counting  all these moments - one for the road – in the middle of the album - this isn’t looking back - this is the result of writing beautiful songs in homes late at night and into early mornings – it’s dancing with your partner through the days. It’s looking into eyes and falling in love – its casual glances and shared looks - it’s heartfelt and honest.

Then up pops Remember opening with a Zombies flourish and Hal Blaine snare rolls – coupled with those simple – yet always effective harmonies from Stu and Marco. Oh and how we wish for a harmony in the modern world. I was talking with a friend sometime ago and we were discussing how every boy band of the modern age ( you can define that) has failed to recognise that harmonies are what made the Beatles great – and now they just belt their parts in the same key and inflect everything in the same old fucking  manner (Ladies and gentlemen I give you Take That – I mean come on Gary – have a listen to The Wellgreen) Now with The Wellgreen there’s a measure to the mix  - sound complimenting sound – this is music made to be  played on the radio – you know -  the big radio – all over the country – harmonies like this sound wonderful through small speakers.

As you can see – I’m going track by track – I don’t usually but I wanted to put something down about each one. Because I said before without the writing how would we know – so next up is Impossible Love – mining those country roots all Gene Clark going solo  with The Fanclub for his backing band. It’s melting harmonies time and somewhere in there is a touch of Mike Nesmith going it alone.  I guess the whole album has this emerging seventies sound – a nod to what the sixties produced but taking it somewhere else and of course updating for the now.  Saying that, Summer Rain with its Bacharach moments and the return of the Everly Brothers should be sound tracking an eighties teen coming of age flick. Sublime. There’s music for every decade.

Leading to the finale of On Our Own, this heartfelt tribute to just being in love – you know the feeling – we’ll take the world on – together – just you and me. It has a Wings feel to it – now I’m no Wings fan – I couldn’t name another song other than the hits – but it’s the structure and the tone – lovely. Soaring stuff. 

So The Barne Society have done it again – this ever growing collection of beautiful tunes, wordsmithery and risk all packaged in their unique way. I’m glad The Wellgreen have a new album out. And it is an album. All killer – no filler. So to put it in a most simple way – it’s good that Stu and Marco find time to sing – to write – to record - to release it -  because it pleases other people.

It makes me grin. It will you too. 

This is Summer Rain 'off the new album' in Glasgow - with added guitar

There's also a stream of the whole Barne Society Christmas shindig - but I can't find the link again - so google The Wellgreen, The Barne Society or go to soundcloud and find The Wellgreen, or Marco Rea or Stuart Kidd - basically click stuff and listen - you know it's worth it. (I'll sort the links soon)