My PC went on fire at the weekend. You can insert your own joke about burning CDs here: _______
Back to normal soon, I hope.
Year: 2011
Six Of The Best – Craig Gannon
Six Of The Best is a semi-regular feature that pokes, prods and persuades your favourite bands, bards and barometers of hip opinion to tell us six of the best tracks they’ve ever heard. The tracks could be mainstream million-sellers or they could be obfuscatingly obscure, it doesn’t matter. The only criteria set is that, aye, they must be Six of the Best. Think of it like a mini, groovier version of Desert Island Discs…
Number 9 in a series:
Craig Gannon is, to use that much clichéd phrase, a musicians’ musician. Any band looking for some understated yet majestic, melodic guitar playing could do worse than turn to Craig for inspiration. His CV reads like a Who’s Who of left-of-centre British rock acts since the mid 80’s – he’s been the perfect foil for Aztec Camera and Roddy Frame, The Bluebells, The Adult Net, The Colourfield and much of Terry Hall’s ‘solo’ material.
He’s perhaps most famous for being (briefly) the fifth Smith, hired when Andy Rourke’s drug problems led to him being ousted from the band and, on his return, being given the role of 2nd guitar. Craig played on much of The Smiths’ vital output from 1986 – the Panic and Ask singles, London, Half A Person, You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet Baby (the best Smiths non-single ever, surely?) and although asked to leave The Smiths in confusing circumstances, was considered vital enough to be asked back into the Morrissey fold, playing Last Of The Famous International Playboys on Top Of The Pops and as part of a pseudo-Smiths line-up when the old nipple flasher played his first solo show in Wolverhampton at the end of 1988. All this was happening whilst behind the scenes legal proceedings were underway to sue Morrissey and Marr for unpaid royalties relating to the afore-mentioned tracks. For a while it looked like Morrissey was considering him as his main writing partner, but being a man of principle, Craig wouldn’t drop the court case and, well, that was the end of that.
This was very much Terry Hall’s gain. Craig worked extensively with Hall throughout much of the 90’s and his guitar work on Hall’s solo albums Home and Laugh manages the trick of being both uplifting yet melancholic, with added fancy pants chords to boot. To these ears, both albums have the air of the undiscovered classic, and still hold up to repeated plays today. If you’re unfamiliar with them have a listen to the Forever J single, from Home. You’d like it. Craig has fond memories of working on these albums.
“The track I’m most proud of having played on would probably be a song called Take It Forever on Terry Hall’s second solo album which myself and Terry co – wrote. I rarely listen to records I’ve played on over the years but I still like the guitars on that. An obviously higher profile track would be Panic by The Smiths as I’m proud of my guitar playing on that.”
These days you can still hear Craig playing, though you might not realise it. His subtle playing is perfect soundtrack material for a whole host of TV and cinema productions – incidental music on Eastenders and A Question Of Sport amongst many others, and he doesn’t appear to miss the thrill of what you or I might refer to as ‘the music scene‘.
“I now make my living as a composer rather than a guitarist which is exactly how I like it and at the moment I’m just in the middle of writing the score for a film called R/Evolution which looks at the revolution in human consciousness. It includes contributions from Forest Whitaker amongst others and is narrated by Richard Olivier. The film was been shot around the world over most of this year and I’m writing a contemporary orchestral score which incorporates various ethnic and world music styles.”
Craig’s Six Of The Best is, I think, one of the best we’ve had yet and a good indication of the influences that seep into his guitar playing:
Walk On By – Burt Bacharach.
One of Bacharach’s most simple songs which in this case proves that simple can be good, although that’s not always the case. I first got into Burt Bacharach when I was about 14 and it was probably this song that started it. A great intimate feel and a never bettered vocal by Dionne Warwick this also has trademark Bacharach flugelhorn phrases. The Stranglers did a great cover of this track which I also love but this is perfect.
Alone Again Or – Love
I first got into Love in 1983 through Roddy Frame who used to play this all the time. This song is off one of my all time favourite albums ‘Forever Changes’ and was written by Bryan Maclean rather than the usual Love songwriter Arthur Lee. It’s probably the most accessible track on an album which includes some pretty weird late 60’s psychedelia. It starts with a great acoustic guitar arpeggio pattern joined by strings and then into an inspired mariachi style trumpet solo. Love also did some rubbish but ‘Forever Changes’ is one of the best albums of all time in my opinion.
The Long And Winding Road – The Beatles.
Growing up in the seventies I was always listening to The Beatles and I’m still amazed at how brilliant they often were and they had everything including two brilliant songwriters, great image, personality and chemistry etc. I could have picked loads of favourite Beatles songs but this is just one example of what an incredible songwriter McCartney was. Great chords, a poignant melody and a hugely emotional vocal. John Lennon played the bass on this and you can hear him fluffing all over the place but that doesn’t take anything away from it. The originally released version has choir and orchestra overdubbed by Phil Spector which apparently McCartney hated. One of many fantastic songs from the best band the world has ever seen.
Theme from Once Upon a Time In America – Ennio Morricone.
Written by one of my all time favourite film composers this is one of many works of genius he composed and it never fails to get me choked up every time I hear it. Knowing it so well from the film originally it evokes feelings of innocence, lost friendship and nostalgia. About a year after I first saw the film I was lay on the beach in St Petersburg Florida in the same spot De Niro and James Woods filmed one of the scenes in the film and I listened to the score on headphones…..the whole score is amazing.
Let Him Run Wild – Beach Boys.
I got into the Beach Boys quite late really, probably in my mid – twenties as before that whenever I heard the name ‘Beach Boys’ I always thought of ‘Surfin USA’ etc until I heard the album ‘Summer Days and Summer Nights’ and the masterpiece ‘Pet Sounds’. ‘Let Him Run Wild’ has everything you expect from Brian Wilson including great harmonies, catchy bass line and the best part for me Brian’s beautiful lead vocal, he had such a fantastic voice. This song was a taste of things to come with ‘Pet Sounds’.
The Girl With The Sun In Her Hair – John Barry
Loads of times in the Seventies I’d be watching TV and hear a great TV or film theme and a lot of the time it turned out to be by John Barry. Growing up on the Sean Connery Bond films I always loved the music although John Barry has written loads of great music for non – Bond films. ‘The Girl With The Sun In Her Hair’ was actually written for a Sunsilk advert in the late Sixties and you can hear that unmistakeable Barry sound, it could almost have been another Bond theme. Every composer ‘borrows’ occasionally and it sounds like John Barry ‘borrowed’ from Ravel’s ‘Introduction & Allegro’ for this piece.
Now, that’s what I call music! Every Six Of the Best compilation comes in a handy RAR download file. Get Craig Gannon’s here.
*Bonus Track!
Here‘s The Long And Winding Road, stripped of Spector’s syrupy strings and all its Mantovani mush. Essentially a McCartney demo and all the better for it.
Coming next in this series –
Six Of the Best from a worldwide singing sensation (TBC)
The Kids Are Alright
When is it that the arrogance of youth takes flight, mortality strikes and reality bites? Some folk get depressed over milestone birthdays – the 21st, the 30th. Many of my friends are currently agonising over turning 40. That wasn’t a problem to me. The day I turned 27 was my biggy. That was the day I realised I’d never play football for Scotland. Truth be told, I knew from the age of 14 12 10 eh, make that 8 that I’d never play for Scotland, but We Have A Dream and all that.
(statisticians note, not my card!)
I had boxes and folders and albums stuffed full of football cards. Like many of my peers my hero was Kenny Dalglish, the swashbuckling, freescoring King of The Kop. I wasn’t a Liverpool supporter, but Kenny played for Scotland more times than anyone else and he was my idol. We even celebrated his birthday in my house (March 4th, if you want to know). A few years ago when moving house I found all those cards again and amongst them was the celebrated King Kenny card, both arms aloft in victory salute, red socks rolled to the ankles, the boyish smile atop the dark blue of Scotland with a rainy Hampden Park in the background. Aye. Boyish smile. Turning the card over broke me into a cold sweat. Kenny Dalglish. Age 27. Clubs: Celtic, Liverpool. Scottish appearances: 59. International goals: 20. Age 27. 27! He’d done all this by the age of 27! I hadn’t. Nor was I likely to.
It’s the same with music. Actually, it’s probably worse (or better, depending on how you view these things when considering your own contribution to the world.) Johnny Marr had done it all with The Smiths and split them up by the time he’d reached the ripe old age of 24. And when written down like that, I realise he isn’t that much older than me. Booker T Jones was only 17 when he recorded Green Onions with the MGs. 17! Seven-teen! The Boy Wonder himself, Sir Roddy of Frame turned up at a recording studio not far from where I’m currently typing at the age of 15 and, as the engineer himself told me a few years later, “blew everyone away, the wee fucker.” ‘Little’ Stevie Wonder was practically a veteran of the Motown studios by the time he’d reached double figures. You could say the same about Michael Jackson, with his dance moves copped from James Brown and his wee unbroken vocal yelps the icing to his big brothers’ sugar sweet soul.
There are tons more….a 20 year old Steve Winwood vamping on Voodoo Chile with Jimi Hendrix, 19 year old Paul Weller releasing In The City, George Harrison being sent home from the Hamburg-era Beatles for being too young. Feel free to add to the list here…
It’s no’ fair, eh? Listen and weep old folks, listen and weep….
Michael Jackson‘s isolated vocal track on I Want You Back. Released when Michael was 11 years old.
Stevie Wonder‘s isolated vocal track on Uptight (Everything’s Alright). Released when Stevie was 16 years old.
Aztec Camera‘s debut single on Postcard Records (of course!) – A) Just Like Gold B) We Could Send Letters, released when Roddy was 16 years old. The wee fucker indeed.
The Sound of Young, young, Scotland.
Campbell Owens ‘n Roddy Frame ‘n Aztec Camera in 1983
Salford Fads Club
Next week sees Rhino’s much anticipated release of The Smiths‘ back catalogue, tantalisingly remastered by Johnny Marr and available in any number of combinations, including a lottery winner’s wet dream of a vinyl ‘n CD box set. Old Morrissey’s disowned them already, but what does he know? You really should start sweetening up your other half. Tell them they’ve lost weight, or that that new haircut really takes the years off or…..you get the idea…..if you want one of these babies, you’re gonna have to do a lot of grovelling.
In preparation for my much more recession-friendly purchase arriving (and the fact that Craig Gannon is dropping by any day now with his Six of the Best), The Smiths have been on something of a heavy rotation round here. While The Queen Is Dead usually steals the headlines in any ‘Best Smiths Albums‘ polls, most folk would put the smart money on that particular accolade going to Strangeways, Here We Come, the band’s swansong recorded in (and on) good spirits while Smithdom collapsed around all 4 members like a quiff in the rain.
John Peel said something at the start of The Smiths perfectly-formed lifespan akin to the fact that you couldn’t tell who The Smiths had been listening to. There were no obvious Velvet Underground/Beatles/Van der Graaf Generator influences, that The Smiths arrived fully formed with a sound of their own. This may have been true on their first couple of records, but by the time they’d hit their stride, any number of influences were creeping in. Terrific as it is, you need only listen to the first 30 glam-stomping seconds of Panic back-to-back with T Rex‘s Metal Guru to recognise the chord progression, slide guitar and general hysterical rush to appreciate what Morrissey and Marr were listening to that particular day. (The ‘Hang The DJ‘ refrain came about after Steve Wright In The Afternoon, In The Afternoon! played Wham’s I’m Your Man straight after the news broke about the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. But I digress…)
“There’s so much buried in the past to steal from, one’s resources are limitless.” (Morrissey, interviewed in The Face, 1984).
By the time of Strangeways…., The Smiths’ influences had become much subtler. Johnny wanted to write a classic album in the vein of The Beatles’ The Beatles (“The White Album” dontchaknow), an album that was instantly recognisable as being by The Beatles, yet not in an obvious way. While Lennon, McCartney and especially Harrison broke free from what they felt were the constraints of Beatledom via a combination of pastoral fingerpickings and essentially solo recordings, Johnny Marr took the much more daring (and ultimately more rewarding) route of composing songs on instruments other than guitar. Across the album you’ll find autoharp, saxophone, traces of synthesized strings and that most anti of Smiths instruments, the drum machine. Listen closely and you’ll spot them all. Opening track A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours is a terrific piano-led stomper, augmented by vibesy percussion and the sort of arrangement that would have Chas Smash doing the nutty dance at the drop of a pork pie hat. And not a guitar in sight! Which brings us to Reparata & The Delrons 1975 obscurity ‘Shoes‘, which sounds like the sort of bazouki-led Greek goose-step that would’ve been foisted upon us during an era when Eurovision still meant something. All staccato rhythms and slightly stilted foreign accents, it was a huge favourite of Morrissey’s and Marr’s during the recording of Strangeways. Not surprising really once you’ve played it back-to-back with that jaunty opening track…….
And another thing…
To be fair, Johnny makes no secret of his love for Metal Guru, including it on his Dansette Delights compilation here.
This was Morrissey’s preferred image for the cover of Strangeways, until Harvey Keitel refused permission.
Man, The Smiths were just about perfect, eh?
Six Of The Best – Basil Pieroni
Six Of The Best is a semi-regular feature that pokes, prods and persuades your favourite bands, bards and barometers of hip opinion to tell us six of the best tracks they’ve ever heard. The tracks could be mainstream million-sellers or they could be obfuscatingly obscure, it doesn’t matter. The only criteria set is that, aye, they must be Six of the Best. Think of it like a mini, groovier version of Desert Island Discs…
Number 8 in a series:
Basil Pieroni, twangin’ guitar maestro from current hot to trot favs Butcher Boy – that’s him third from left.
I’ve known Basil in a roundabout way for over 20 years, ever since I immersed myself in the dual rites of passage afforded to every teenage boy in Irvine in the mid/late 80’s – playing in a band and drinking in The Turf. Even then, Basil was something of the elder statesmen of the Irvine music scene and looked about 40. Of course, he’s not changed a bit since (the wee quiff, the turn-ups on the jeans and the biker boots have all been in place for as long as I can remember) and he’s now having the last laugh, looking much younger than he actually is, while releasing actual bona-fide records on real record labels that proper music fans can buy on vinyl in actual record shops.
It was something of a surprise to find out he was playing in Butcher Boy. I just assumed he’d gone the way of every promising local musician and left his guitar to gather dust just out of reach of small childrens’ hands. While some of us remain frustrated bedroom guitarists and others cashed their chips in for the starry appeal of the wedding band, it seems that Basil’s perseverance has come up trumps. Butcher Boy have been a serious going concern for the past 6 years or so and are onto their 3rd album. You should do yourself a favour and follow that link just there on the right. It’ll take you straight to the page where you can buy Helping Hands, Butcher Boy’s third (and best so far) LP. It’ll sit nicely in the space between your Felt and Belle & Sebastian records, and while you wait for it to arrive you could have a listen to Basil’s excellent Six of the Best, complete with YouTube links ‘n all……
Okay. I start with the usual caveat about this selection being the six tracks that come into my head today and the list would change if you ask me again tomorrow.
Dusty Springfield The Look Of Love (1967)
Music written by Burt Bacharach & lyrics written by Hal David and performed by Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass. The song was sung by Dusty Springfield for the Casino Royale soundtrack and was nominated for an Oscar. Before you think it’s unfair that it didn’t win, Best Song nominees included “The Bare Necessities” from Disney’s Jungle Book and “Thoroughly Modern Millie” The winner was “Talk to the Animals” from Doctor Doolittle… Two songs that didn’t make the nominations were “To Sir With Love” and “Mrs. Robinson“. Tough year.
I digress.
“The Look Of Love” has it all – a great song, an amazing soulful sexy vocal, one of the all-time great bands playing a great arrangement and that dirty honking sax solo. A perfect record
I’ve put in a link to a live version as Dusty is mesmerising to watch.
Orange Juice In a Nutshell
I love this song. A Scottish soul classic all done without the might of Herb Alpert, Dusty or Bacharach & David. And all the more amazing that this was apparently Edwyn Collins’ first attempt at a ballad.
Jonny English Lady
From the eponymous album released this year by Jonny (Teenage Fanclub’s Norman Blake and Gorky’s Euros Childs). English Lady is one of those songs that instantly got into my brain and gets better with each listen. It’s whimsical in the Ray Davis vein, but it’s daftness never strays into comedy. One of the best songs about missing an ex ever written.
I recommend the album. It’s really accessible pop and contains the Norman Blake song “Circling the Sun” that if you’re a TFC fan you won’t want to miss.
Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi, with Jack White Two Against One. From the album Rome
A recommendation from a work colleague and an unexpected treat (not that I thought my colleague has bad taste, but that I though Danger Mouse was a hip-hop producer – shows what I know…not that I’m against hip-hop…).
The players on this album all recorded with Ennio Morricone on his western soundtracks so they know a thing or two about a thing or two. The bass playing in particular, all treble and reverb, is gorgeous. The album also features Nora Jones, who with this and her contribution to Belle & Sebastian’s last record is stamping all over my preconceptions. I picked this track as I had it blasting out the Butcher Boy van as we left Indietracks festival back in July. After the unexpected headline slot from the Hidden Cameras and a belly full of real ale, I was still on a high and this kept the party going.
Edwyn Collins 70s Night From the 1997 Edwyn Collins’ LP “I’m Not Following You”
Time for a duet. Stepping out in style with the unlikely pairing of Edwyn Collins and Mark E Smith. An underdiscovered dancefloor filler. A stomper, a rant. A funked-up, fucked-up groove of a delight.
Bonnie Prince Billy For Every Field There’s a Mole from the 2008 album Lie Down in the Light. Taking it all the way to the sublime now for my last choice. I own more Will Oldham albums than any other artist – eleven in all sitting on the shelf next to me. He’s released a lot of records over the years under various names and with a huge cast of players. I started with The Letting Go a few years ago and wooed by it’s rustic loveliness and haunting cello, and have been collecting his records ever since. Monorail in Glasgow always have a good stock.
His albums can be hard to get into but I’ve found that perseverance pays off. “For Every Field There’s a Mole” is one of his more accessible tracks, so for the uninitiated this is about as upbeat and sing-along as it gets. This song has an unusual dynamic. I’m not technically competent to describe what’s happening musically, but it moves me. And it has some clarinet playing that really hits the spot.
Every Six Of the Best compilation comes in a handy RAR download file. Get Basil Pieroni’s here.
Useless bit of trivia…
I was once the lucky winner of the raffle (aye!) at one of Basil’s band’s gigs. The four scotch pies and beans didn’t quite go round everyone at our table, but we did our best to make sure everyone benefited as best as possible.
*Bonus Track!
Here‘s Girls Make Me Sick, Butcher Boy‘s debut single from 2007.
Coming next in this series –
Six Of the Best from Craig Gannon
Redding Festival
Fate works in mysterious ways. Firstly, two items all typed up and ready for publication when Mediafire stop me uploading mp3s for your aural pleasure. Then, problem fixed (2 weeks later) and the two items I wrote have somehow disappeared silently into the ether, apparently gone forever. This post, therefore, is a test of sorts…
Today is Roger Waters’ birthday. It’s also Dave Stewart’s. It would’ve been Otis Redding’s 70th birthday today too, but he never made it past the age of 26. Aye, fate works in mysterious ways indeed. Otis, as you well know, was the soul singer’s soul singer. Pure. Raw. Heart bleedin’, soul sweatin’, down-on-his-knees soul. Following his performance at 1967’s Monterey Festival, he was one of the first black artists to cross over to a white audience. Keef prefers his version of Satisfaction to the Stones’ original. Modern day wannabe Stones The Black Crowes did a pretty rockin’ verison of Hard To Handle. Well, they were “modern” 20 years ago at any rate. Not many people even knew it was a cover. But you did, eh? Course you did. Unfortunately Otis was also partly responsible for The Commitments and therefore pub bands up and down the country doing buttock-clenchingly awful versions of Respect and Mustang Sally (I know, I know, it’s a Wilson Pickett track), but he was a long time dead by then, so he thankfully never heard any of them.
The music….
Take 1 of Try a Little Tenderness. Otis with Booker T & MGs feeling the song out for the first time. Isaac Hayes arranged the brass section, fact fans.
I’ve Been Loving You Too Long. The heart-wrenchin’, knee-droppin’ Otis at his finest.
*Bonus Track!
Tindersticks version of I’ve Been Loving You Too Long. Almost but not quite white man gospel. It’s downbeat, churchlike (funereal, even) and fairly terrific. If you are unfamiliar with the work of Tindersticks, you might suggest Stuart Staples sings a wee bit like Vic Reeves’ Pub Singer on it. But don’t let that put you off.
Otis Deading
Notebooks Out, Plagiarists!
The Wisdom of MES #1:
He told me I didn’t understand, that we were from the bleak industrial wastes of North England, or something, and that we didn’t understand the Internet. I told him Fall fans invented the Internet. They were on there in 1982.
The Fall. Two short words. One long career. They’re a bit like whisky. You’ve been told it’s good and you want to like it, but on the first coupla tries it doesn’t go down well, sticks in the throat, comes back on you with a vengeance. Then, a wee bit older, more wordly-wise and mature and you realise, hey! This stuff’s great! It’s for every occasion, much better after dark, much better alone than shared. Ease your way into it gently then go for it. If you’re new to it, there’s a lot of catching up to be done. It’s been 35 years and 28 LPs or something like that. 28 LPs! And that’s not counting the multitude of ex label cash ins, compilations and crappy semi official bootlegs. Those 28 studio LPs, they can’t all be good though, eh? Yeah, some of them are better than that. Excellent you might even say. This Nation’s Saving Grace. Live At The Witch Trials. Hex Induction Hour. I could go on, but you know them all and you’ll all have your own personal favourites. (Extricate, since you’re askin’). Band members play on a seemingly shoogly, constantly moving conveyor belt. In The Fall, yer number can be up at any moment. Mark E Smith changes rhythm sections the way most of us change our socks. Play Dead Beat Descendent the wrong way and it’s curtains-ah! Play Dead Beat Descendent the right way and it’s curtains-ah! But you knew that already.
The Wisdom of MES #2:
If it’s me and your granny on bongos, it’s The Fall.
Check the record, check the record, check the guy’s track record!
I’ve always liked The Fall for having the gumption to tackle other folks material, regardless of how hip or otherwise it may appear to those watching from the outside. A quick poke about the internet will reward you with an excellent compilation of assorted cover versions that they’ve tackled in their own rattlin’, shoutin’ way. Lee Perry. The Kinks. Sister Sledge. The Searchers. Any number of garage band and rockabilly ramalamas. It doesn’t matter who’s being covered, they all end up sounding like The Fall. Which got me thinking. Can anyone ‘do’ The Fall? The Fall do loads of other bands, but have any bands done The Fall. Well…………Apparently not. There are precious few attempts at covering Fall songs. However….
Sonic Youth, pre-conceived too-cool-for-school detuned pretentious art-rockers that they are did a whole Peel Session of Fall tracks in 1988, and their version of Rowche Rumble is bloody marvellous. A right wiry tub-thumper, it keeps those ‘Ksch Ksch‘ vocals in and dresses the whole thing up in a wall of skronking Jazzmaster guitar. (Adopts noo yoik accent) It’s like art, but it’s like, rock at the same time.
The Wisdom of MES #3:
When they start saying they like the Fall, it’s usually that they’ve run out of ideas. You remember Wet Wet Wet saying that, you know, ‘we wanna concentrate on doing our own stuff, a bit like The Fall’. It’s like, ‘shut the fuck up!’, you know.
Enter Pavement. They based most of their career sounding like The Fall, at least they did for those first coupla albums. Total rip off? Cute fanboy homage? It’s hard to tell. Anyway you look at it, they even had the nerve to do The Fall in a Peel Session, tackling The Classical with reserved jangle and polite (polite!) Hey There Fuckface vocals ‘n all. Sadly, nothing much like the pummeling, frantic original at all.
The Wisdom of MES #4:
Listening to Pavement, it’s just The Fall in 1985, isn’t it? They haven’t got an original idea in their heads.
*Bonus Tracks!
Contrast and compare with the original and best:
The Fall – Rowche Rumble
The Fall – The Classical
It’s really Roche Rumble. But you knew that already.
Les Coups Différents Pour Les Gens Différents
Ahem. Excusé moi…….
C’est Sly! Le Chat de Hep d’années soixante-dix mettre au point d’âme de banlieue son produit dans le studio tout comme la Famille Pierre partait. Vous reconnaîtrez que quatre au battement de tambour de plancher, la basse de duvet de frugtastic et ces super-glissant psychédélique remplissent sur la guitare. Vous pouvez reconnaître même l’air. Ce n’est que la Danse A La Musique, mes frères et mes soeurs ! En français ! La Famille « dum-duh, dum-dum-duh duh » les choeurs sont juste aussi indignes que la coiffure afro sur la tête de la Soeur Rose, l’air tout comme l’anneau-un-ding sauvage comme les 22″ fonds de cloche sur les jambes de Freddie. Enregistré comme French Fries au lieu de Sly et la Famille Pierre, il pose dans les coffre-forts pour les âges, non aimés, non découverts et incroyablement branchés. La face b est appelée Small Fries, le genre de r › la frousse-âme avec ces tromperie de studio de fausset fausse vocale qui a fait Prince s’assied sur et écoute quand il enregistrait If I Was Your Girlfriend.Vous creuse ?
La Musique:
La traduction ici. Les excuses énormes à tous mes amis français pour tenter d’écrire dans français d’écolier! Il n’arrivera jamais encore!
Fin
People Do Rock Steady
Rocksteady is a style of music that originated in Jamaica around the end of the 60s. Slower than ska, faster than reggae, you’ll recognise rocksteady by its beat – 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 1 and 2 and 3 and so on and so on. Alton Ellis. Toots and The Maytals. Hopeton Lewis. The Cables. Names you may not be familiar with (though Toots, surely?), but all are purveyors of the finest rocksteady available. You should seek them out, you’d like them.
Rock Steady is a 1971 single by Aretha Franklin, appearing on her Young, Gifted and Black LP. It‘s a classic piece of call and response Atlantic soul, all hi-hat, one chord chicken-scratch guitar and outrageously funky organ fills. The bit when everything drops out save Aretha’s “Rock!…….Steady!……Rock!…….Steady!” vocals is hairs-on-the-neck material. But you knew that already. That wee section alone has been sampled by every hip-hop act you care to mention, from Afrika Bambaataa to Young Bleed. Public Enemy have sampled the exact same part 3 times! I’ve often thought that Talking Heads based their white boy funk of Burning Down The House on Aretha’s Rock Steady groove, whether consciously or not. EPMD certainly did. Their 1988 single I’m Housin’ is built around the track. Still stands up today, for what it’s worth. You should play it in the car, bass boomin’ as you’re gangster leanin’ out the window. And if you can carry that move off in this particular part of the world, I’ll buy you a pint.
Jamaican artists were heavily influenced by the sounds they could pick up on the airwaves. Being an island, few if any travelling musicians toured there, so Jamaicans were left to come up with their own music. As the sounds of soul drifted across the Caribbean, the musicians would take what they liked and add their own laid back twist to it. Many early ska and rocksteady records are covers of soul tracks. When an artist wrote his own song, it was often in essence a barely disguised soul record with new lyrics on top. The Brentford All-Stars Greedy G is basically a James Brown record with extra keyboard stabs and some dubby drums. Nothing wrong with that, eh? The Marvels heard Aretha’s Rock Steady and as quick as that light bulb could ping in their collective minds they’d re-jigged it into a rocksteady groove, chicken-scratch guitar, ourageously funky organ fills and all. Just a bit slower than the original, but then, the original was made in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. The Marvels cooked up their version in the burning hot temperatures of Jamaica. Sound Dimension were also taken by Rock Steady. Their instrumental Granny Scratch Scratch is clearly based on the Aretha record. Pure rocksteady (count the beat as you listen), it‘s a terrific head-nodder of a track.
*Bonus Tracks!
Here‘s an alternate mix of Aretha Franklin‘s version. It’s looser and longer than the version you’re familiar with.
Here‘s The Jackson Sisters frantic funk version.
Here‘s Rocksteady by Byron Lee & The Dragonaires. It has nothing to do with any of the above records.
Here‘s People Do Rocksteady by The Bodysnatchers. Again, nthing to do with any of the above records.
Now treat yourself and go and buy the Soul Jazz ‘Dynamite‘ series. 100% Dynamite is the best place to start. At the last count, six volumes to collect. All killer no filler ‘n that.
Effortlessly cool, even with the wee vocal slip at 2.28.
Double Barrelled Objects Of Desire
Pop music, especially the early stuff when the concept of the teenager had just been invented has always been awash with songs sung by hormonally imbalanced adolescent boys about seemingly unattainable girls. The helium high of The Hollies Hey! Carrie Anne (what’s your game and can anybody play?), Buddy Holly‘s uh pretty-pretty-pretty-pretty Peggy Sue, the Beach Boys‘ mock party jam version of ah-ba ba ba ba Barbara Ann (ah-ba ba ba ba Barbara Ann, ta-ake my ha-a-and). I bet you’re singing Al Jardine’s ridiculous falsetto right now. Every one of them a gazillion plays radio standard. Every one of them a teenage ode to an unattainable double barrelled object of desire.
I bet you couldn’t sing this though: Pamela Jean by The Survivors.
Pamela Jean is a terrific slice of early 60s Dionesque doo-wop pop, all hand claps, honkin’ sax and Spectorish tumbling drum rolls. It also happens to feature the unmistakable vocals of Brian Wilson. The vocal arrangement of Pamela Jean is totally Brian. From the bottom end bass to the harmonies and the high-high-highs, Pamela Jean is the sound of Sta-Press ‘n Pendletones ‘n Brylcreem flicks – the Beach Boys Sound of Endless Summer.
Pamela Jean isn’t actually a Beach Boys record but if you didn’t read the small print you’d never know. It could easily slot right there inbetween Little Deuce Coupe and Don’t Worry Baby; 50% pop and 50% pathos. Only thing is, other than Brian, no Beach Boys appeared on it. The Survivors were Brian and three friends, Bob Norberg, Dave Nowlen and Rich Alarian. Alarian had helped Brian write some of the early Beach Boys songs, but rather than Brian give his pal a writing credit, they agreed that Brian would produce a record for him. Pamela Jean was the result. Tremendous as it clearly is, the record failed to even scrape the outer edges of the chart. Perhaps poor old Rich would’ve been better off insisting on those writing credits after all.
*Trainspotter Fact #1
Any Beach Boys obsessive worth his salt (note his, not their – the tendency to focus on the minutae and detail is surely a male thing, aye?) would recognise that the melody for Pamela Jean was taken wholly from Car Crazy Cutie, from the Beach Boys Little Deuce Coupe LP. Pamela Jean just sounds better though, eh? And I bet you can sing it now too.
“Brian Wilson is not a good looking human being, yet his music is beautiful. Look at Nat King Cole–he looked like a real piece of shit but he had a beautiful voice. Look at Aretha Franklin–she would scare me in a dark room, yet her voice is fantastic. Roy Orbison too. The thing I listen too is the music.”
-Dennis Wilson, 1976
Plain Or Pan 