Take a 'chance' on this Kidd

Music is all about time. The right time more often than not.

At the moment I have 'time'. It’s hasn't always been like that but circumstances sometimes throw you the freedom to think and do something different.

Time is on my side - If I could turn back time - Hit me baby one more time - This time (more than any other time)

And when time connects with ideas then things become magical. You see (well hear) there’s so much sound out there. And when our ears align with the sounds of the underground, from the garages, the box room rebels and the cupboard pioneers then  their melodies and words can lift our days and hit us right in the heart. All these genres emerging over time and rolling over one another – boundaries collapsing and sound taking over in fits and starts and change. This great body of sound pushing and moving on across centuries and cultures it's bound to have an impact.

And when you have time you make things.

And when you have time  then things can happen.

At some point last year Stuart Kidd had ‘time’ on his hands – as he puts it a ‘chance weekend’ to himself. So why not take a chance on the time that you’ve got. Which is exactly what he did. Setting himself the challenge to record an album in a weekend. Well let’s say put down the basis of a long player in a 48 hours (I can’t be exact – I wasn’t there)  The result of this is ‘Chance Weekend’ an incredibly beautiful set of songs structured through chance and risk, experimentation and play.

We all experience moments of time on our hands. Good times. Bad times. It’s what we choose to do with this time that shapes tomorrow and all that. There’s something in looking back to those moments when boredom bred creativity and the 'in between' happened. Stuart Kidd makes the music of the 'in between' from a cupboard (well not just a cupboard – but let’s stick with it as an image for his creative genius) in Scotland.  Stuart Kidd has been in my life for some ‘time’ now. I first came into contact with his incredible melodies and harmonies as part of The Wellgreen in a club in North London. Playing good time rock and roll with his partner in chime Marco Rea. And then through his bandcamp site I discovered all manner of beauty. 'Chance Weekend' is another find from this cupboard full of dreaming.  

Starting with an idea – well it has to start somewhere – to create songs using ‘chance’ materials Kidd set about creating a wonderful new long layer.  Inspired by Eno and Coryat and Dobson’s ‘The 12 Song Game’ he set about using random cards and exercises to revisit sounds, create new ones, merge ideas and sing with abandon in new ways. It’s still Kidd though – it’s still songwriting of the highest order – it’s just put together differently.

Sometimes with time on your hands you find new things to do with it.

Now this might be an odd place to bring this up but I’ve been reading a book by John Higgs again ‘The KLF Chaos and Magic and the band who burned a million pound’. It’s a wonderful book and you should read it. But within its pages is an explanation of magical thinking. ‘Chance Weekend’ has been touched by magical thinking. It really is a beautiful piece of work. I should write this review by using the techniques that Kidd used – roll a dice and add parts about harmony or write in italics and bold. But I’m going to chance it and just write whilst listening. Hopefully it will make some sense.   

Opening with ‘A picture I don’t want to paint’ with it’s nod to the laid back 'mid-eighties late night feel' production, kind of like a nightime drive tune that appears from the radio - not Chris Rea  - it’s never ever Chris Rea – but it has a sort of minor melancholic tinge coupled with odd squiggles and squeaks and straight away this is a departure from what we might be used to. The song is still full of rich harmonies blending and coming together but there’s a touch of wailing guitar in there to, it’s quite a sad opener but it works.

This is followed by ‘Little One’ a heartfelt tune to being a family. I guess once someone else comes along you shift your perspective in life and this shift in perspective has produced a wonderful song. It starts with a buzz and  simple beat mixed with a drone  my kind of pure pop – I can’t put my finger on the what it reminds of – it has this big ‘red rocks’ moment near the end – you know epic pop.  All hands aloft with lights and people on shoulders. It’s a song with a punch in the air and swaying with your  lover. Families come from this. There’s a lyric that Kidd sings so beautifully - keep us in your plans – because you know your children grow up and we all have to escape sometime but as a parent you want your children to 'keep us in mind'. It resonates with love for the unknown whilst calling past - a nod to being back somewhere in time. It's a beauty. This cupboard pop pioneer is producing some of the most wonderful sounds around at the moment and you really should give it a listen.  

Opening with a Sgt Pepper like fanfare ‘Forget Me Not’  drifts into that beatific 60s simplicity and here come The Zombies to help him create a perfect pop storm with a banjo and a kazoo somehow making melodies conjuring the 1930s. This has a lot of Macca about it and that’s no bad thing.  There’s never an afterthought with Kidd – he puts it all into the tunes and it works. Like ‘Tomorrow Sky’, that comes next all seas and open horizons with a space filled guitar part to match. This is my favourite so far ( but I haven’t got to the end yet) There’s a swirling organ like the mighty sea rumbling beneath it and that chord progression sends you far out to watch the sun. I don’t want to say it’s country folk – but you need a jump in point so I’m saying it has echoes of country folk but inflected with the city (to keep it real maaaaan) The harmonies are thick and wonderful - the whole long player is both reflective and forward thinking. In using random procedures to create songs the process has made Kidd stray from what he knows into a tomorrow that never knows.

Next comes 'Crazy George' – which is just brilliant  it seems to be made up of found sounds and repetition. I get the feeling of early children’s television music as Kidd makes sounds from rainbows.  It’s got a touch of Van Dyke Parks, it's pastoral and evocative of other pleasant worlds. Actually this might be my favourite. And once again time is referenced so well as KiDD sings 'You can’t look back without tomorrow close at hand.' You really can't. 

Up next is ‘Sagro’ - now this actually has the Bagpuss melody as it's intro  ( or I might have locked on to a children’s television theme in my mind through my own magical thinking) it’s all Oliver Postgate and wonder. Still mining that Van Dyke Parks vibe and then shifting to drum machines and swirls. Melodies unwinding over chugging beats.  When it breaks after two minutes it’s sublime. I could listen to an album of that sound. There’s lots going on in all these songs – but it doesn’t feel that it’s thrown in – more developed even though his working method held more power over the production of this album than the more traditional process of writing a set of songs. But sometimes you have to just do something different

'Like a Bullet' is a ‘cut up’ lyrical blast an ‘Alphabet boogie woogie’ to borrow Kidd’s own technique. I have just written ‘The Beach Boys meet The Style Council uptown’. And that’s no bad thing. So I'll stick with that description for now. 

The fuzzed opening of ‘Unknown Hometown’ with its echoes of MBV guitars breaking and falling apart whilst Teenage Fanclub provide the structure is absolutely pure pop. Random and sublime. It feels like it’s in a key that’s pushed his voice somewhere else and I really like that. It’s quite a big one this one.  

We are nearing the end and there’s time for two more tunes from this wunderKidd. ‘I see crocodiles’ a drone spiritual with a touch of Bowie era ‘Low’ about it – you’ll get the reference when you listen. But then suddenly punctuated with huge harmonies as at comes to an end – we're back to hands in the air – as night falls and we fall in love. And there’s a lovely drone repetition at the end that I could listen to for hours.  

Finally wonk pop at its best is addressed in ‘Where have they gone’ With spring reverb making it seem ‘Free’ ( see what I did there?) and alive. It’s like Kidd goes glam with a touch of  Tricky thrown in the blender. A riotous manner with which to close the cupboard door on at this time. As experiments go this works for Kidd. It’s another long player of incredible tunes and words from a genuine genius of sound. He’s contributed to so much wonderful music over the years but clearly saves some of the magic for himself. With time and chance he’s woven together a truly special record.

With ‘time’ comes creativity. Kidd’s time over that weekend was well spent. Why don’t you take a chance on Kidd and listen yourself this weekend. You won’t be disappointed.

You can find the album to download or buy a limited copy here: 

https://kidd.bandcamp.com/

You can find even more wonderful things here: 
https://kiddtunes.com/
https://open.spotify.com/artist/7jTgnIN8MDiKqHVGfvgz0k


Here is the video for ‘A picture I don’t want to paint’

Oh and check out The Barne Society they released Grin and Bear it by The Wellgreen - and that's ace too. 

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)

That's love. Heaven's Above. Here come The Pastels again.

It’s taken far too long to write this….but the euphoria hasn’t diminished. I was in the company of The Pastels last week. And I missed The Fall this weekend but you can’t have all your heroes in one week – you know things could just implode with that kind of excitement. So here I am tonight – at home – with the incessant drone of charity ringing in my ears – you know the only time I wear my pyjamas is in my bed maaaaan. I’m old like that. You don’t want give anyone a shock. McCartney’s on in the background all wrong sounding strings, and Yesterday played in glittering jackets – like rock and roll has been wrung out of it all.

But rock n roll was alive last week in the Scala. I’ve told this tale many times before – but The Pastels are my Velvets. Art for the outsider. Now you know I’m part of the (main) stream –but I like to think that no one really listens to Sister Ray like I do. Well The Pastels – do that for me – that difference – but sincerity and fragility and noise and melody- just like Lou did – a band to fall into when the going gets tough and you just need a friend. We’re not freaks – we speak the same language – it’s just you lot out there that hate. Here - we're up for mutual respect and laughs and jokes – smiles and glances and late night chances.

It was good to have The Pastels back in London (although who was minding monorail was anyone’s guess) It was good to go to a Pastels show. It was an early start this one – doors were opened at 6.30 – and closed by 10.30. It was my kind of  night.  So I arrived with the strains of Bill Ryder Jones echoing through the labyrinth that is the Scala. You seem to be endlessly ascending stairs and opening doors in the hope of finding the band – kind of a Yellow Submarine scene without the psychedelic sights. Bill’s from Liverpool see –used to be The Coral and had the room hushed in wonder at his paeans to love lost and found. There's a deep rooted melancholy to his songs. You can tell he's lived it. A much more superior Jake Bugg - if you know what I'm getting at.

And the room was filling up. A friendly crowd. Waves and glances and nods and hellos – we’ve stood together in rooms across this city before. We like the same things. We all like The Pastels. It’s been 24 years since I last saw the Pastels – that was way back at the ULU. A four band bill – finishing with the kings of independent pop, before we them we had pale saints, Teenage Fanclub and the first London gig by Ride. I still have the poster. I didn’t get one from this gig. There was a part of me that wished I had. Funnily enough that ULU show had been populated by a mighty presence of Showsec security guards – this had that feel to - as my bag was searched and pockets were patted down. We’re a rowdy bunch us Pastel fans – I keep my blade tucked deep inside my anorak.

And on the bill this evening was another reference to the past – Lightships are Gerry Love’s extra curricular outfit – a Fannies for the future shall we say. I didn’t know that at the time – so it was a pleasure to suddenly see Love stepping out of the shadows to play a set of acid folk rock explosions (I’m trademarking that by the way) with a band that looked both glam rock and tinged with a Danish detective sartorial style. Gerry’s voice was in fine form – as harmonies and merged with delayed guitars and suddenly we had lift off (do you see what I did there?) I mean it when I say it had a folk attitude – authenticity again – I couldn’t quite make out the words but I got sense of it being about home. There was that familiar Fanclub feel to it but the sonics where doing something else. There was a guy making lovely squelches and producing shards of sound that took it away from what I was expecting and made it all the better for it. I really should look up his name – he’s in the Pastels aswell (so’s Gerry). There was a time – I’d know all the names – but when you get to my age it’s hard just remembering the names of your neighbours – let alone line-ups.  I need to go and listen a little more to Lightships – I like Lightships – I like their style.

And from one style to another – super style icon Stephen Pastel (as seen in A Scene in Between) and his band – except as I said before – this isn’t about leaders – this is a collective – a gang.  Always understated – but never overrated – The Pastels emerge to warm cheers and claps and whoops – and that was just me. Once again finding myself positioned at the front - this wasn’t intentional – I wasn’t jostling for position I just happened to be standing stage left –  where Stephen was singing. There’s no front with this group. As I said they were/ are my Velvets from the 1980s. A super Scottish crew – making tunes for the few – that’s what it felt like back then. A few pictures - got to base your look on something – like those few photos we had of The Byrds and The Velvets – MC5 and The Small Faces – The Pastels were in there too – we were carving style out of sound. And the Songs for Children EP on a bootleg blue vinyl and random purchases from record shops dotted across the North. Each and every one of their songs holding something special for me. I was rocking a quiff at the gig – but inwardly I was shaking my bowlhead all night. I’m done with the anoraks. But without The Pastels in my teenage years – I might not have made it.

It doesn’t seem like twenty four years have passed – Stephen and Katrina still feel the same – this duo manning the helm of the good ship Pastel. From the opening mariachi melodies of Slow Summits we were ready for our adventure to higher plains. Moving from new to old – this all too short set encapsulated all that’s often missed about the Pastels – this is a band with a whole heap of perfect pop (corn) tunes – and references that take in far more styles than the ‘shambling and twee’ bands they supposedly inspired. This is Miles Davies meets Lou Reed downtown with a twist of the Shrangi La’s and Can. It’s experimental and sentimental – which is good thing in my eye and sounds even better in my head. So we were tripping through the old and the new and everything sounded divine. If you haven’t got the latest Pastels tunes – and come on – this is their first ‘proper’ long player in 16 years – then buy it.  And in the flesh this beautiful album came alive – with a band of players augmenting those well-crafted words of Katrina and Stephen. From Wrong Light to Check your Heart (surely the BHF’s next song of choice for any health campaign) with Nothing to be Done , Different Drum and Summer Rain in the mix -  the interplay of the two singers was perfect in every sense. I guess when you’ve known each other that long things are going to kind of click. It doesn’t just click with the group though – as I’ve said before there’s no front with Stephen – the conversation is flowing back and forth with an awestruck audience but Stephen never plays the star. He’s humble and appreciative that we’ve even bothered to come to.

We wouldn’t have missed it though. Even though I had to go home to fetch my ticket at the start of the evening when I realised I’d left it at home.

All of this was leading to a final blistering onslaught of one-chord feedback drones in the shape of Baby Honey. With a temperamental pedal and six members locking down into a six minute odyssey to love. You couldn’t ask for anything else. But understandably we wanted more. So we were treated to even more wonders from this brilliant bunch of outsiders – who it seems have been spending their time becoming the wedding band to book if you’re getting married in the West of Scotland. Well not really but Katrina treated us to a rendition of an old soul tune (someone please tell me it’s title – my mind is not what it was) given the Pastels treatment and recently aired at a friend’s wedding (Pastels tune update - Stephen tweeted to tell me it was Love (It's getting better) and was actually released on the Worlds of Possibility EP - so thanks for that) and Daniel Johnson’s Speeding Motorcycle was revved up and run out.

And then after a lovely gentle downbeat ending (And once again I can’t name that tune – I thought I could but it seems to escape me now) – The Pastels were gone. It was 10pm and I was going to  be back home by 11pm with the biggest smile across my face since the last time I saw them.

It won’t be another 24 years. I’ll be seeing you soon. 

Here's Baby Honey from Glasgow a few years back - I'm hoping that a video will surface from The Scala gig but it's not there yet.Although I am reliably informed that there's footage out there - and i'll update this page as soon as it's available.  So thanks to mudonthedoor for posting this. 

Oh and it's Tom Crossley - the wonderful noise wizard in Lightships and The Pastels.