Sounds from the overground - solitary rants from the listening man No.5

I've been flagging lately - illness rolling around these bones  - you know the chills mutiplying - losing control. 

So in order to keep some semblance of writing happening here - it's a short post - i'll be updating very soon - longer and possibly diving back into the recording process and dates and stuff. 

So here you are then - happy new year - (class) war is not over. 

I have been spending far too much time making compilations of Euros Childs, Jonny, Teenage Fanclub and The Well green

Stuart Kidd is a beautiful musician. Honest, creative with songs to sing along too. You should look up his band camp site. There’s a wealth of lovely things there – a genuine wealth.

I came across The Wellgreen.

Euros continues to produce the most consistently beautiful sounds you could ever wish for and I have decided that next year I’ll interview him for this blog. A new twist in 2013. He doesn’t know it and hopefully it will be as good as my J Mascis interview conducted when I was mere youth. It was five words long. Bloody grungers.

I have listened to EPMD Never Seen Before exiting from the workplace – because I’m street like that.

Students I once taught have provided soundtracks to my waking hours – you all should check out Clouded Judgement, Beatmasta Bill and Monkeysteak.

Inkrument have failed to follow up a seminal long player. Pull your fingers out fellas.

The Super Furries have emerged on the periphery of my being.

Richard Chester is the new Brian Wilson or Spector or Joe Meek – take your pick really. We love him in this house.  

I missed The Fall, Orbital, The Stone Roses, The Primitives, and The Beach Boys this year.

My brother continued to see Adam Ant and saw The Stone Roses.

I’ve played Denim a great deal.

Summer Special is my No.1 album of 2012

I have avidly listened to Duglas’ recommendations on Twitter.

I have tuned into FNOOB – and got down to the Orb Sound System. 

I am pondering whether to get a Primal Scream ticket for March. 

I've got two music books to read - one called Telling Stories the other all about the mavericks in the independent scene from 1975 til 2005. 

I bought five cds for one pound yesterday – I am currently playing Simian Mobile Disco’s mixed set for Bugged Out. It is very good – bass and bleeps. 

I spent time with Euros Childs again.

It’s becoming a regular thing I guess. I could spend hours in the company of him and the Roogie Boogie Band. And I did uptown in London last week or the week before. A school night – the beginning of term but I needed that final special summer moment.

Euros tends not to disappoint.

I had arrived tired and sweating – meetings had and late leavings from workplaces – short stop offs to put children to bed with kisses and cuddles and then trains and tube rides to small public houses on busy roads. So I arrive and if I’m honest – I’m already over excited – I’ve got a good feeling about today. A simple download from the National Elf –oooh that’s better and my Summer can finally come to a wonderful end[s]

Euros Childs has created yet another pure pop classic in Summer Special – that is both familiar and new. It chugs – it rocks - and it resonates with feeling from beginning to end.  I arrive and Euros walks by – checking the parking tickets in pricey places. Or simply taking the air? I guess you might want to – at times. The album opens with Be Be High – first heard at the Vortex with H.Hawkline adding the rock – whilst Euros kept it rolling.  And I want to shout out at the top of my voice just because this song is ace – and that’s it. I’ve already got my boys and daughter shaking their heads and wiggling their toes to it – it's infectious – it creeps in – in a good way.  And from there it just gets better.  A record filled with instantly memorable melodies – and honesty. You can’t always find that these days.

So as I said – I arrive waiting, anticipating. Adam Stearns ambles on – all piano and falsetto – a baroque beatnik. A Van Dyke Parks with a Scottish accent. It is good. Different and a challenge for an opening act – to offer up that feeling so early in the evening. But the boy done well.

So I nip downstairs – cigarettes and cider – ready to find my place at the front of the stage for The Wellgreen. I’m not certain why I wanted to be down the front – just felt they would be something I wanted to see – up close and all that. I hadn’t heard them before – I have some vague recollection of a ‘tweet’ saying ‘harmonies and pop’ and to be honest that’s enough for me. You would wouldn’t you? If it’s going to be that simple it’s bound to be beautiful.

And they were.

Absolutely simple pop music. A Scottish Everly Brothers – I wanted them to be from Edinburgh so I could call them the ‘Waverley Brothers’ but they’re from Glasgow. So I can’t.  Marco and Stuart – two thirds of the Roogie Boogie Boys – making harmonic pop of epic proportions. There’s a Zombies undercurrent with a Bacharach twist amidst it all – but carried off with a modernity of a pop band living in a modern world.
 

I loved it.

Two lads – a snare drum, some bongos, a guitar, a keyboard and two voices. They have released an album Wellgreens – you should own it – I do. Purchased from Euros at the end of another blinding night.  I expect he’ll be selling more when the Summer Special rolls into autumnal nights in northern quarters.

As for Euros Childs and his band [which for those not in the know consisted of Adam Stearns and The Wellgreen] they simply rocked the spot. I remained at the front- after a brief conversation with Stuart Kidd – a Wellgreen and me well chuffed – I’ll write about the Jonny Joe Meek album at a later date – and let myself rock and jump and dance and bounce as this band added more power to already powerful songs. As I’ve said before – everybody should know at least one Euros song – and hopefully they will  - Summer Special wouldn’t be a bad place to start – although I was listening to First Cousins this morning – at work – writing reports – planning lessons – thinking – and that’s also a beautiful (K)rafted (werk)  - all synths and pops. I should write about the whole set – do it justice and tap into my NME journalist tendencies and make the connections and discuss the this and the that – but I won’t – I’ve already taken up far too much of your time.

I will simply say – they played Parents’ Place – and it brings me to my knees –it just does that – brings me to my knees. It is the saddest song ever written. But I had a good feeling about tonight/ day and The Roogie Boogies did not bring me down. This lovely reworking of Ends tracks that lifts and compliments the isolation experienced on that album to bring about a welcome sense of belonging. 

And they play ‘First time I saw You’ – all looped bass and repetition [in the music and we’re never gonna lose it] It is a blistering sonic experience (trademarked any discussion of loud music and that) as that loop shakes the room from the beginning and Euros keeps it simple on the ‘moog’ or should that be Casio (my first keyboard- I formed a band with my friend Richard – we recorded a song called Nightclubbing with it – it was the eighties – I got mumps the very same evening – my career did not blossom) and slowly the band come alive  as she comes alive in my mind. It was ace too. As I said – it was all ace. I first saw ‘First time I saw You’ at the ULU when Chops was first released – it was incredible – and still is – it was a pleasure to see it back in the set. It was a pleasure to see this Summertime show. It was a pleasure to see Euros Childs.

And as always – like the first time – I bought the CD and Euros scrawled on it. I will continue to do this.

I am a fan. It’s great to be a fan of music.

Here are two for you. The Wellgreens and Euros Childs. Buy both of their albums – you’ll be smiling over Winter. 

Sounds from the overground - solitary rants from the listening man No.2

I have been using ‘garageband’ to recreate Stereolab tunes.



I made three new CDs for the car – they all jump.


I want to own the Housemartins albums in a digital format as I can’t remember where they are in the house.


I saw the animosity and boredom on Alex Turner’s face as the crowd sang ‘Mardy Bum’ and he couldn’t be arsed to dwell on all that old romance.


I uploaded various tunes – including ‘Slip inside this House’ by The 13th Floor Elavators.


I had a cup of tea in my Jonny mug.


I watched some of the Wu-Tang Clan’s set on i-player


I listened to Esmerelda’s Kite Vampire Girl.


I am still waiting to give the Oliver soundtrack to my daughter


I grabbed a handful of records and brough them downstairs


I looked at a photograph of my friend’s night out in Brighton with the Rhinestoned Immaculates


I wanted to get my hair cut


We played the pink vinyl 7inch of Candyfloss


I listened to the first Pink Floyd LP and got down to Interstellar Overdrive


We danced to the Machine Soul Funk Vol 1 EP on Rotters Golf Club

and we all stand together

Standing at the front of the stage – after allowing a Japanese woman to move into the space at the side of me and slightly in front of me ,so she could get a better view of Norman Blake – I found myself revelling in the joy of the ‘live experience’. And of course this meant I had a secured a Jonny ticket this time – as I said - I had gotten round to it a lot earlier than before. Not that this changes the way I felt way back then when I didn’t get a Jonny ticket.

Nonetheless – the guitars were set up – Euros with stickers of travels made – Norman’s simply signed by Daniel Johnston. A micro Korg, a Casio MT100 – possibly – and then a drum kit and Fender Mustang bass. Simple rock set up for a simple rock set. And as the other 40 some things started to feel the anticipation of the evening – the impending [non] stardom of the event – we all simply got down to it.

Not judging just jumping.

A glance at the set list – opening with Bread - already I had explained its love in this house to Euros as I overpaid for a mug in light of the fact I had not paid anything for my download of Pantiago at the National Elf Library – hands up for those who make Bread. We sing it often. We sing a great deal I have realised and although I find the moans come easily – my children have taken to asking who wrote the songs we play in the car and the house – and now could happily make a compilation tape – or should that be ipod playlist - featuring The Small Faces, the Beatles, Euros Childs, The Move , The Troggs and of course Jonny.

I would have loved to have taken my daughter to this gig. But in time she will find her way and hopefully it will be beyond the tastes of her father. She might even find Beefheart entertaining – because I haven’t as of yet – but it’s not over – give it time. I remember we got A Love Supreme on cassette by Coltrane – we could get into the first minutes but then it was like heavy – heavy load stuff. But over time I can dig it. I’m hep like that.

But there’s a humour in all of this that is lost by lots of other performers. I had witnessed the shitness – not the fitness - of the Glastonbury circuit as performers reached out to make a connection. You want to make a connection – play smaller gigs. See the whites of their eyes and stop pretending that this is your moment – your perfect moment. Perhaps it’s the music you make that allows for that connection – or perhaps it’s because you don’t take yourself so seriously. As I have to – all stiff suited and polished and booted as I walk the walk and often forget the talk. I experienced that another gig I managed to tear myself out the house for – a new band, a hip hop troupe called Inkrument. All humour but talent – putting on a show and not making one – as I am want to do on many occasions. I’ll write about INKRUMENT at another time when I’m feeling the hip hop bop – but they are a remarkable band.

They do hip hop better than most. They should be listened to more.

But back to this standing (and delivering) I’ve written about the mob – the throng, the feeling that you’re right at the heart of the action. And a few weeks ago I was wading through the past – and came across a whole heap of concert tickets. Those entrances to good times. It was odd to be back at the Borderline – I’d been there several times before but forgotten how intimate the whole thing is – I remember when Rob had graduated from the racket of The Williams and Scunthorpe tension to Adorable and sonic pretension and me and McGee watching the show and then moving on to The Gardening Club for a dose of the old plinky plonk via taxis and laughs. Or when Frank Black had taken the stage and left us all reeling with his command and craft. A truly awesome show guys – really like awesome.

Going to something live stays under the skin. And those tickets are the last hopes of tapping into the memories of the night. All the understated moments – I once fell in love over a weekend as me and a friend waltzed through the Wedding Present, Ian McCulloch and The Jesus and Mary Chain and ended up walking the distance home holding hands and smiling. It may have been ‘Lover, lover, lover’ by Mac that did it – all northern scowl and (this) charm (ing man). But you know what I mean the incessant rush of adrenalin as the song you wanted kicks in – I remember telling Paul before we watched the Smile concerts in London that it wouldn’t matter if Smile didn’t quite come off as long as Wilson played Time to get Alone.

They opened with it. It blew my mind.

I’m not certain where all of this is going – it started with me waiting for Jonny to come on in a small room in London and has reawakened the dormant gig goer in me. I know I’m forty now and perhaps I shouldn’t be hanging around in dark rooms waiting for young things to come and wow me – but Norman Blake is easily my age – a touch older to precise and it felt right. From the first concert to this there’s always been a thrill in seeing people make music.

Saying that the first concert I ever saw was Wham – on the Club Fantastic tour in 1983. Edinburgh Playhouse on the 11th October – packed with screaming scots and two northern brothers, DJ Gary Crawley warming up the house as they waved cheap silk scarves in the air and chanted George and Andrew in wild abandon. I have to admit I was caught up in the thrill of it too. It felt like my own introduction to Beatlemania – it was a frenzy man – a real frenzy. Emma’s brother has worked lots of these gigs over time – the boyszones and the westlifes – he says the front rows are full of piss afterwards.

I did not piss at the front of the Borderline stage.

Despite my excitement. But I did want to scream.

So here’s to Wham for starting it all off.

No nostalgia rides

I was on the telephone talking to Paul the other night. About the concretes, his journey around the nation in the grip of ice and snow and how Stephen Pastel had come to walk him back to his hotel. And we spoke of the days when going to a concert was the straightforward. Seeing things is harder these days – for so many reasons – tiredness, disinterest, a better television schedule, fucked transport systems and of course children. Sometimes things just stop. Although I watched the end of some tacked together BBC4 festival programme with abhorrent middle class fathers leading their children through fields of mud in an effort to tap into some sort of a vision of a utopian Britain where everyone – I mean white C2 families can listen to dirge like rock and non threatening ‘other world’ bands whilst their children eat ‘vegan’ foods and paint themselves as they embrace ‘free politics’. I will never parade my children as accessories for festival fun times. I for one am social responsible and secondly – hippies do festivals and you should never trust a hippy.

But sometimes I would like to watch a moment of live music. Now if that moment of live music was a multi-platinum act and tickets were timed to go on sale at 7.16 am on the first Tuesday in March when the moon was waxing and not waning, then I guess I would have to join some sort of internet/ phone ticket system feeding frenzy with the masses – but I mean I would like to watch a band who are not moderately famous – who have not released a record – who have only played a handful of dates. I wanted to watch Jonny.

This crossing over of the independent, because we’re all ‘indie’ now both saddens and utterly unfazes me – I mean I shouldn’t be shocked by the nature of the capitalist control of culture – see how we fetishize all areas of existence. Note the build up to the forthcoming Creation Records documentary – I know I will watch it – will comment on its authentic voice and rally against the Sony sell out saying McGee had no option etc - but really Creation was a record label – it wanted my money – McGee and Dick Green wanted our money. Eventually they got it with the safety of simple driving rock guitars for mindless souls who love to sing in packs and enjoy the mob mentality of the imbecilic sections of the football terraces. Doing it for the kids? Really? Remember this was a label with Momus on it.

However – there was a time when you could turn up at a venue and venture inside and see the acts - without having to have a specific printed out piece of paper with several reference numbers and a time to collect. Of course I have bought tickets in advance – but it was a case of in advance – not at the first point of sale – the very minute they are released. Everyone wants a piece of it nowadays – how can Jonny sell out?

I first saw Euros Childs supporting The Concretes at the ULU in London. I had seen a glimpse of the Scandinavian group on a Glastonbury afternoon programme – they were wearing wigs and singing ‘You can’t hurry love.’ [Not a Phil Collins tribute – more a Nordic Velvets] I told Paul - as ever he had seen it - was already on the concretes tip - as he is wont to do – I bought an album and I thought very little else about it.

I read The Concretes were playing – I gave Paul a ring – we decided to get some tickets - I actually think he had purchased tickets for the tour already - but I was in London so we could go together –there was no rush. We purchased tickets – and Euros was on the supporting bill. First on – early start. He was an absolute revelation – I had dabbled on the outer fringes of the Gorky’s Zygotic Monkey catalogue of sounds. Listened to some Peel sessions, bought an EP but to be honest I didn’t even know who Euros was and that the Gorky’s had split. But I was mesmorised by his performance and that of his band – two from Radio Luxembourg at the time [now Racehorses – and they are always worth a listen with their wonderful craft of Floyd, Furries and Cole Porter ] and Richard/ or James Tam – they were awesome. It was mainly Chops – possibly with Henry and Matilda and Billy the Seagull – and what prime cuts they were – finishing the set with ‘First Time I saw You’ – this brooding, beautiful bass filled grower full of pure sentiment and love. First time I saw you – skirt was white and blue – first time I saw you. And throughout enthused with good cheer. I was laughing, dancing and feeling thoroughly entertained.

I have since seen Euros on several other occasions. I have always got inside the venue. I buy my albums off the fella himself normally after a concert – yes I am nearly forty but I get some sad flash of ‘teenage excitement’ in meeting the artist, having the record signed. And I once stage dived at a Teenage Fanclub concert – it was being filmed for Snub TV. It was busy – the Manics were the first act – all clashed and fired up - but we [me and James – a super cool young continental] got in. Probably bought our tickets a week or so in advance.

Now Norman Blake from Teenage Fanclub and Euros Childs from Euros Childs are Jonny and everyone wants a piece of the indie action. How everyone has suddenly awoken to the subtle charm of ‘Do the Caveman’, or ‘Which Witch is which?’ is new to me but it seems I can’t get a ticket for this gig. But as I said -no nostalgia rides – the whole shape of the music scene has changed – has mutated and the mob has muscled in. I will read the review in the Guardian. I will put ‘WegotTickets’ web page in favourites and their telephone number in my mobile and next time be that little bit faster.

Or I might just decide to stay at home.

Sometimes that is just that bit easier.