Cover Versions, Dylanish, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

The Ghosts Of Christmas Past

Ooh! What’s that bulging in Santa’s sack? Buoyed by the swell of traffic following the Pogues post (a wee bit below), here’s a shortcut to previous Plain Or Pan Christmas stuff:

The James Brown Christmas album . Even better than it sounds. Here.

Dora Bryan‘s 1963 novelty cash-in All I Want For Christmas Is A Beatle. Here.

Julian ‘The Strokes’ Casablancas‘ uber-rare I Wish It Was Christmas Today. Here.

Some Bob Dylan festive fare. Here.

The Fall do Christ-mas-ah! Here.

The Ghost Of Christmas Past? That’ll be Phil’s Spectre.

Plain Or Pan is almost 5 years young. Over the festive period you’ll be able to pick up (download!) the annual Plain Or Pan Best Of The Year CD, featuring the most popular downloaded tracks from throughout the year – the ideal way for newbies to quickly catch up on what they’ve been a-missin’ and regulars to plug the gaps in their collection.

Remember, the ‘Whityeherefur?‘ botton on the left is your friend.

Cover Versions, Live!

And It Was Only Ever A B-Side

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want is the sound of The Smiths in minature. It‘s got a whole multitude of acoustic & electric guitar tracks, with enough pretty chords and fancy picking to satisfy even the keenest bedroom Johnny Marr guitarist for years to come (believe me). It’s whimsical, melancholic and bathed in pathos. Morrissey’s close-miked vocal is equal parts full of hope and despair and, for me at least, shrouded in ambiguity – is it “Good times, for a change” (eg, normally times are anything but good) or is it “Good times for a change” (eg, these good times we’ve been having will no doubt soon be over). That’s puzzled me for years that has. Sometimes drives me crazy if I’m telling the truth. The lyric is often lazily trotted out by the Philistines as an example of why The Smiths were “depressing etc etc blah, blah, blah“. Remarkably, it’s all over in under 2 minutes. “Where’s the rest of the song?” asked Rough Trade upon their first listen. Of course, it’s perfect as it was. “Like a very brief punch in the face,” to quote Steven Patrick himself. But you knew that already.

Perfect as it was. That hasn’t stopped others from having a go though. Without popping off to the normal places to check I’d wager it’s the most-covered Smiths track….ever!  It’s featured in a handful of movie soundtracks, sometimes as the original, sometimes under the guise of someone else. It’s been played live by any number of sensitive acoustic troubadours and as I type it’s being downloaded into the higher regions of whatever constitutes a Hit Parade these days by a whole generation of cloth-eared numpties who’ve taken to it after hearing Slow Moving Millie’s clunkingly twee aberration of a version that soundtracks the current John Lewis Christmas ad on the TV. (Try saying that after 2 light ales). I don’t like it, no.

In their prime The Smiths could rattle off songs the same way you or I tend to boil the kettle – daily and without really thinking about it. With supreme confidence they stuck Please, Please, Please… onto the b-side of the William, It Was Really Nothing single, alongside How Soon Is Now? The best bands always have their best songs tucked away on b-sides but that’s quite an amazing little single, eh? Johnny tells of writing it in his Earls Court flat in the Summer of 1984, just as The Smiths had joined that train that heaved onto Euston. The inspiration behind it was the little-known Del Shannon track, ‘The Answer To Everything‘, a record constantly playing in his house when he was growing up. “I tried to capture the essence of the Del Shannon tune in terms of its spookiness and sense of yearning.” If you haven’t already done so, now’s a good time to point you in the direction of Johnny Marr’s Dansette Delights, a compilation that features this very track. Anyway, I digress. What of those cover versions?

The first to appear was The Dream Academy‘s version in 1985. An instrumental was recorded for the Ferris Bueller’s Day Off movie, which is where most folk would’ve heard it. The Dream Academy were unfortunately a bit out of step for the mid 80s. Clearly in thrall to the pastoral,  introspective charms of Nick Drake and even Syd Barrett they’d have had a better chance of success in the mid 90s, when anyone who was anyone was citing Drake ‘n Barrett as visionary influences. The Dream Academy’s version (horrible pan-pipey synth strings ‘n all) crashed the charts at number 81, “which is nearly a hit,” mused Morrissey, who would later include it on  his audience warm-up tapes that played before his concerts.

She & Him do a nice 50s-inspired twangin’, end of the prom-type version. Slow and reverby and featuring the vocals of the future Mrs Plain Or Pan, Zooey Deschanel (aaah, Zooey!) it‘s one of the few Please, Please, Please… covers that dares to be just that wee bit different to the original.

On the other hand, Josh Rouse, the poor man’s Ryan Adams (albeit with far better manners) contributes a lazy half, cocked version. I like Josh Rouse, I really do. His 1972 album is worth more than a fleeting Spotify listen if you’re unfamiliar with his stuff, but really, his Please, Please, Please…! He doesn’t even play the proper chords or anything! That’s just not on!

Please, Please, Please… was rarely played live by The Smiths, but here‘s a terrific, and I mean terrific, version of it that opened one legendary LA show in 1986. Famous for a bouncer-inflamed riot at the end, The Smiths actually opened with Please, Please, Please….that night. A lilting, soulful version, bass, drums ‘n all. Now pop off and seek out Thank Your Lucky Stars. You will Thank Your Lucky Stars – the best Smiths bootleg out there, if y’ask me.

From Hair To Eternity

Cover Versions, Double Nugget, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, Live!

Brown Sugar, How Come You Taste So Good?

There’s only one thing good about Hallowe’en and that’s tablet. I despise Hallowe’en. Really properly hate it. I think it dates back to the times when I was a wee boy and I was sent out every year as a one-man band – my Dad’s old guitar (it was old then, it’s ancient now), a coathanger fashioned into a half-arsed harmonica harness, two cardboard cymbals between the knees and a massive big bass drum hanging off my skinny shoulders right down to my backside. Oh, and a couple of bells strapped round my ankles for added effect. “Who…what….are you meant to be?” they’d always ask and I’d mumble the answer while stuffing monkey nuts into a poly bag already full of monkey nuts. Then I’d shamble off to the next house sounding like the Eastenders theme falling down the stairs. With bells on.

Can I not just be a skeleton next year Dad?

We’ll see son, we’ll see…

Not that I’m scarred for life or anything. I’ve just spent the last couple of hours in classic grumpy old man fashion, hanging cheap orange and black Poundland tat from the outside walls of my garage and front door. An inflatable bat here, a plastic pumpkin there. Tat, tat and more tat. At least the kids’ll like it though. Hang some of that junk to your wall and it’s an open invitation to all and sundry. I expect literally hundreds of the wee grubbers round here tomorrow night, with their rubbish jokes and shop-bought costumes (there’ll be no one-man bands, I can guarantee you that), rattling my letterbox just as The One Show kicks off. “Oany tablet mister?”

Heres 2 version of a vaguely Hallowe’en themed double whammy (thanks to Big Stuff for the inspiration).

Spooky was first recorded by Classics IV, a band from Florida featuring a singing drummer and harmonies to rival the Wilson family. They were so laid back and chilled out they make Fleetwood Mac seem like Sonic Youth in comparison. Indeed, they practically invented the whole ‘soft rock’ genre. Gads. Spooky is almost garage band in presentation, but if you listen closely to the clipped guitar and polite vibraphone you just know they were heading in a different direction entirely. Indeed, by the time you’ve picked up on the lack of fuzz bass and the singing drummer’s vocal inflections (groovy, baby), it’s clear they’d bought a one-way ticket to mid-70s elevator muzak central, sax solos ‘n all. And it was only 1968.

Dusty Springfield hid her version away on the b-side of 1970’s How Can I Be Sure. Picked up since by hip samplers and happenin’ film soundtrack compilers, it’s been rightly placed amongst the canon of her best work. Dusty practically breathes the vocal across the top like a butterfly on a breeze as her fingers click in time to the coolest Fender Rhodes this side of Ronnie Scott’s in 1972. Even more cocktail lounge than the Classics IV version, it had, for a brief two and a half groovy minutes there made me forget the reason I was posting it in the first place.

There’s no tablet, by the way. I ate it all. Every last tooth-melting soft ‘n sugary bit of it. Right at this minute I am, as someone once sang, shakin’ all over. What’re ye goin’ as?

Bonus Track of sorts

REM did Spooky now and again in concert. Here they are in Hamburg a couple of years ago:

Cover Versions, Gone but not forgotten, studio outtakes

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

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

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 FallRowche Rumble

The FallThe Classical

It’s really Roche Rumble. But you knew that already.

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, studio outtakes

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:

Danse A La Musique

Small Fries

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

 

 

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, studio outtakes

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.

Cover Versions, Gone but not forgotten

Puir Amy

She had it all, she threw it away. Like one of those comets that comes blazing across the Earth every coupla hundred years, its tail fizzing slowly to a burnt out nothing. Then gone. Her ‘advisors’ no doubt loved it as the car crash unfolded around her. Was it Malcolm McLaren that coined the phrase Cash From Chaos? The skunk, the skank, the short short skirts, she wisnae the new Billie or Nina or Etta. She was the first Amy, all back-combed beehive and body art. Unreliable yet unconditional. Unable yet unbelievable.

Russell Brand has said it best so far. Read his words then listen to her duet with Paul Weller on Don’t Go To Strangers, a brilliant piece of Stax-inspired southern soul that Russell refers to in his eulogy.

Small in frame, massive in voice. Amy Winehouse, you’ll be missed.

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

Hope I Die Before I Get Old

(and I’m talkin’ about my g-g-g-generation)

It’s 1989 and I’m sitting in my bedroom, pleased as punch that I’ve managed to de-press ‘pause‘ on the tape deck of my music centre at the exact moment The Wedding Present launch into their final song in yet another brilliant Peel Session. It’s a rattlin’, clatterin’ version of Altered Images’ perennial classic Happy Birthday (hear it here), and during a breakdown in the middle section David Gedge gleefully shouts, “Status Quo, 25 years in the biz-ness!” and the band “Yay!” back at him with hardly disguised irony. Old farts still churning out the same 3 chord nonsense to the same set of hairier, older fans. Roll over lay down grandad and let the young team through.

It’s 2011 and I’m sitting at my computer, pleased as punch that I’ve managed to get this blog somewhat back on track after a couple of months of having more important stuff to do. I’m researching some things for possible inclusion when I stumble upon the fact that 25 years ago this month (July 1986), the New Musical Express released C86, the now seminal cassette that featured a compilation of tracks by 22 staunchly independent bands du jour. Released being the key word here – despite 3 weekly music papers, no-one felt the need to give anything away for free. C86 could only be bought by mail order, whic thousands of alternative music fans did. Although I didn’t. I paid 50p for mine at a record fair in Kilmarnock a few years later. I still have the tape somewhere and after a bit of poking around I turn it up.

And whadayaknow? Track 1, side1? It’s only Primal Scream, still going strong after all these years. Last track, side 2? Why, it’s only little David Gedge with his Wedding Present, also still going strong after all these years – Yay! Twenty five years in the biz-ness indeed.  Aye, so Primal Scream have seamlessly tripped their way through just about every sub-genre known to even the most trainspottery of musicologists, but there is still a band called Primal Scream who release records today, much like the Primal Scream who recorded Velocity Girl all those years ago (did the Stone Roses really rip it off for Made Of Stone? You decide). And The Wedding Present nowadays is a very different proposition to the band of George Best and all that jazz. Indeed, with the exception of the boy Gedge, the current line-up look like they’d have been playing pin the tail on the donkey at a jelly and ice-cream birthday party around the time C86 was made, but nonetheless The Wedding Present are still going strong. They even recently toured the Bizarro album again. What was that about old farts still churning out the same 3 chord nonsense to the same set of hairier, older fans? I love them, though. But you knew that already.

Most of the bands on C86 didn’t last a quarter of a century. Half Man Half Biscuit are still around – Yay! and Stephen Pastel can often be spotted still sporting the same dufflecoat, no matter the weather,  in whatever part of Glasgow is deemed to be hippest that week. Thankfully the others could spot a shelf life when they saw one –  in perhaps the same way that Spitfire and Shed 7 would be considered ‘important’ to musical heritage a decade later (ie, not at all important), Stump and Bogshed were maybe just about alright for the times and didn’t hang around too long afterwards. C86 became a lazy adjective for Steve Lamacq to use when describing under-achieving bands with bowl cuts, beads and a Byrdsian bent to their guitars. Which is more than a bit unfair, as to these ears, C86 had no actual defining sound. D’you know that smell you get when you walk past a group of 18/19 year old boys, all done up in their smart/casual gear and off to the local nitespot? A heady mix of Diesel, Dior and Davidoff that smells nothing like the sum of its parts? C86 is a bit like that. Aye, there’s floppy fringes and feyness ahoy, but there’s also experimentalism, big beats and the sort of music that was impossible to pigeonhole in 1986. The aesthetic of C86 was very much “we do this for ourselves and if anyone else likes it it’s a bonus“.

It was a movement, perhaps the twee-est, tamest of all youth movements, that was more about acne than anarchy, eczema than ecstasy, but it was a generation’s calling card, played out in the wastelands betwixt and between punk and house music, filling the void until the next proper movement arrived. We could do with that now. A proper musical movement to tease us, please us, invigorate and inspire.  Or maybe we have.  Is it Mumford & Sons & assorted pals pseudo folkest posho raggle taggle? Is it the skinny-jeaned and pointy-boots brigade from East London? Is it ‘mon the Biffy? I dunno. Maybe I’m one of the old farts. Actually, I know I am. Roll over lay down and all that, the young team are coming through….

In the meantime, dig out yer pipe and slippers, settle down in the rocking chair and crank up the old music centre. Here‘s C86 in all it’s itchy ‘n scratchy, low-fi, badly produced glory:

Side one

  1. Primal Scream – “Velocity Girl”
  2. The Mighty Lemon Drops – “Happy Head”
  3. The Soup Dragons – “Pleasantly Surprised”
  4. The Wolfhounds – “Feeling So Strange Again”
  5. The Bodines – “Therese”
  6. Mighty Mighty – “Law”
  7. Stump – “Buffalo”
  8. Bogshed – “Run to the Temple”
  9. A Witness – “Sharpened Sticks”
  10. The Pastels – “Breaking Lines”
  11. Age of Chance – “From Now On, This Will Be Your God”

Side two

  1. The Shop Assistants – “It’s Up to You”
  2. Close Lobsters – “Firestation Towers”
  3. Miaow – “Sport Most Royal”
  4. Half Man Half Biscuit – “I Hate Nerys Hughes (From The Heart)”
  5. The Servants – “Transparent”
  6. The Mackenzies – “Big Jim (There’s no pubs in Heaven)”
  7. Big Flame – “New Way (Quick Wash And Brush Up With Liberation Theology)”
  8. Fuzzbox – “Console Me”
  9. McCarthy – “Celestial City”
  10. The Shrubs – “Bullfighter’s Bones”
  11. The Wedding Present – “This Boy Can Wait”

*Bonus Tracks!

Musical karma chameleons Primal Scream have been through more changes than a (insert your own metaphor here).

Here‘s their stompin’ version of the Small Faces’ Understanding, featuring yer actual PP Arnold on vocals. And here‘s the Weatherall remix of Uptown, all 9 and a half minutes of struttin’ 70s dub disco and Chicago house – Hey, there’s about 3 movements right there in the one record! Beat that, kids.

*Extra Reading!

There was a good article here in The Quietus from a few months ago about the genesis of C86. Worth 5 minute of anyone’s time.

Cover Versions, Gone but not forgotten, studio outtakes

Hey Hey Hey Hey Double Whammy

Three weeks. Three weeks since I’ve put electric pen to electric paper on Plain Or Pan. In fact, you could make that three weeks and counting, as I don’t know when I’ll be able to dedicate the necessary time required to liven things up round here. Six of the Best with Alan McGee? It’s a work in progress – honest! Real work and all that that entails has kept me ridiculously busy recently and will do for the next couple of weeks at least. But while I’ve some breathing space I thought I should blow away some of the dusty cobwebs that are starting to gather in the deepest corners of the blog.

Hey Hey Hey Hey was originally on the b-side of Little Richard‘s Good Golly Miss Molly, way back in Nineteen Hundred and Fifty Eight. It comes at you like a runaway train, all pounding piano and breathless high-camp vocal hysterics from The Queen of Rock ‘n Roll (Elvis was The King – you gotta have a Queen, right?) It’s ridiculous, overblown and absolutely fantastic. Here‘s one take with a false start. And heres the master take. Good, eh?

The Jim Jones Revue are the MC5 in collapsed quiffs. They sound like a mixture of greasy spoon cafes and sweat, and their take on Hey Hey Hey Hey is a right royal ramalama of screamin’ and a-hollerin’ and needles-in-the-red distortion. I think you’ll like it. They also did an outrageous version of Good Golly Miss Molly. Here it is. I think you’re more than familiar with the original though…

Back soon!