Category: Cover Versions

Cover Versions, demo, Double Nugget, elliott smith, Get This!, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, Kraut-y, Most downloaded tracks, Peel Sessions, Sampled, Studio master tapes, studio outtakes

Four Play

Craig McAllister

Amazingly or not, ye olde Plain Or Pan is now 4 years young. This year saw the double-whammy milestones of reaching one million visitors and, on a personal level, having my writing recognised to the extent that I was invited to interview Sandie Shaw in advance of her appearing at the summer’s Vintage At Goodwood festival. My interview was subsequently published in the hardback Annual that festival goers could buy at the event. Which was nice.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

As has been something of a tradition at the start of a year, I’ve put together a compilation of the most downloaded tracks over the past year – 2 CDs worth of covers, curios and hard-to-find classics. I like to think of it as a potted representation of what Plain Or Pan is about.

Tracklist Disc 1:

Jackson 5 I Want You Back acapella

Dean Carter Jailhouse Rock

Frankie Valli Queen Jane Approximately

Chris Bell I Am The Cosmos

Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson I Am The Cosmos

Scott Walker Black Sheep Boy

Tim Buckley Dolphins

Sandie Shaw I Don’t Owe You Anything

Big Maybelle 96 Tears

Patti Jo Make Me Believe In You

Curtis Mayfield (Don’t Worry) If There’s Hell Below We’re all Gonna Go (takes 1& 2)

Brinkley & Parker.  Don’t Get Fooled By The Pander Man

Sly Stone Time For Livin’ (early version)

Maggie Thrett Soupy

Sheila and B. Devotion Spacer

Happy Mondays Staying Alive

Aretha Franklin / Duane Allman The Weight

Funkadelic Maggot Brain (alt mix)

 

 

Tracklist Disc 2:

Spiritualized Can’t Help Falling In Love

Serge Gainsbourg Melody

Stone Roses Something’s Burning (demo)

Can I’m So Green

Alex Chilton My Baby Just Cares For Me

Elliott Smith I’ll Be Back

The Czars Where the Boys Are

Peter Fonda November Night

Beach Boys Never Learn Not To Love

Charles Manson Cease To Exist

Wedding Present Happy Birthday (Peel Session)

Penny Peeps Model Village

The Stairs Woman Gone And Say Goodbye

Kinks Sittin’ On My Sofa

Ramones Judy Is A Punk (1975 demo)

Capsula Run Run Run

White Stripes Party Of Special Things To Do

13th Floor Elevators Slip Inside This House

Jake Holmes Dazed & Confused

White Antelope Silver Dagger

Arcade Fire Poupee de Cire, Poupee de Son

The Velvelettes Needle In A Haystack acapella

Each disc comes packaged as one big downloadable .rar file, complete with artwork.

If you’re new here, welcome and happy downloading! If you’re a regular here, you may have some or all of these tracks already, so why not download anyway and burn a CD for someone who might appreciate it?

Cover Versions, Dylanish, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, Studio master tapes

Walk Away Renee Quadruple Whammy

Craig McAllister

Walk Away Renee is unarguably one of those songs that has passed into that category marked ‘timeless‘. It has been recorded by artists as diverse as Linda Ronstadt, T’Pau, David Cassidy, Frankie Valli and even Japanese pop duo Pink Lady (no, me neither), in turn being given the country treatment, the overblown 80s synth rock treatment (gads) and all manner of disco/pop/soul treatments. What I love about Walk Away Renee is that, no matter how many times I’ve heard it, when I hear it again I’m always tricked into thinking I’ve just joined the song half-way through.

And when I see the sign that points one way

The lot we used to pass by every day

Just walk away Renee

You won’t see me follow you back home

Maybe it’s the use of the word ‘And‘ as the very first word, maybe it’s the short short verse, but either way it gets me every time. It’s often assumed that it was written by Motown staff writers for the Four Tops, but that’s not true.

The lyric of Walk Away Renee is the slightly-stalkerish product of a love struck 16 year old (16!!) called Michael Brown, keyboard player in cult 60s sunshine pop group The Left Banke. The Renee in question was Renee Fladen-Kamm, a leggy free-spirited blonde who happened, in proper Spinal Tap tradition, to be the girlfriend of the band’s bass player. So infatuated by her was Brown that when the Left Banke recorded the song, he was unable to play his part of the song as she was watching from the studio’s control room.

“My hands were shaking when I tried to play, because she was right there in the control room,” he says. “There was no way I could do it with her around, so I came back and did it later.”

Wow! When I was 16 I think I was still playing with my Action Man, certainly I wasn’t writing proper adult love songs, let alone recording them in a proper recording studio and having hits with them (#5 on the Billboard Hot 100, July 1966, Pop Pickers). With it‘s chamber orchestra intro, harpsichord backing and flute solo (nicked from California Dreaming), Walk Away Renee is pure baroque ‘n roll, a fantastically perfect arrangement and execution that is hard to match.

Hard to match, yes, but not impossible. The Four Tops‘ 1968 version takes out the Left Banke’s chamber pop elements and replaces them with a huge dollop of soul and those instantly recognisable Motown calling cards of drum beat, sweeping strings and stabbing brass. Produced by Holland-Dozier-Holland, the vocal performance is magnificent –  uplifting yet melancholic, Levi Stubbs giving the equivalent vocal performance to what young Michael was feeling in his poor wee love struck heart the day he wrote it. Fact – Rod Stewart loves this song. Want to hear those vocals in all their isolated glory? Of course you do. I’ve posted them before, but hear ’em here. No stabbing brass, sweeping strings or drum breaks to obscure the most perfect soul vocal you’ll hear this week.

I’ve never been that big a fan of Billy Bragg (I know, I know, shoot me…) but I do love his version of Walk Away Renee from the aptly-named Levi Stubbs’ Tears EP. Less Motown, more a homage to the talking blues of Woody Guthrie or early Bob Dylan, but done in those dulcet Essex tones (Bard of Barking? More like the Bark of Barding ho ho) he tells his own story of unrequited love (“I couldn’t stop thinking about her and every time I switched on the radio there was somebody else singing about the two of us………she began going out with Mr Potato Head…. I went home and thought about the two of them together until the bath water went cold around me….“) whilst Johnny Marr picks out the familiar melody in the background. S’a beautiful version, man!

Postscript

Renee seemingly moved on from the Left Banke’s bass player and onto the drummer before Walking Away for good. It seems that young Michael was never to receive her attentions. Nae luck Michael….

Yer actual Renee Fladen-Kamm. She walked away.

Cover Versions, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find

The Don Chorus

Craig McAllister

It would appear that ol’ Don Van Vliet, Captain Beefheart himself shuffled off this mortal coil tonight and has gone onto the next life where he will undoubtedly entertain, confound and enlighten those who are willing and able to tune into whatever frequency he broadcasts from beyond the grave.

Uncompromising, difficult and a right proper tuneless racket – that’s how I’d describe much of what I’ve heard of Captain Beefheart & the Magic Band’s work. And anyone who tells you anything else has at least a slight whiff of pretentiousness around him. Not her. Him. Definitely him. Captain Beefheart doesn’t really strike me as ladies music. Sorry, PJ Harvey and anyone else I’ve offended, but it’s true! I don’t claim to be a super-fan by any stretch of the imagination, but I do have a fond place in my record collection for the Clear Spot and Safe As Milk albums – 2 of his more accessible, bluesy and, yes, tuneful albums. As big a music fan as I am it’s almost embarassing of me to admit this, but I’ve never heard Trout Mask Replica, an album that always appears  (and now will always appear) on those 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die publications.  I first heard the Captain on a Melody Maker mail order CD round about 1990 – Beatle Bones & Smokin’ Stones failed at the time to live up to it’s way-out title. These days, with ears opened wider by all sorts of stuff I never knew about 20 years ago, it sounds pretty good, but it wasn’t until the Nuggets compilation and Diddy Wah Diddy that he made any real sense to these narrow-minded ears. Diddy Wah Diddy sounds fantastic – a growling bassline matched only by Beefheart’s growling vocal, carried along by a garage band stomp that David Bowie must’ve, must’ve played ad infinitum while he was writing Jean Genie. I only found out about 2 years ago that the Captain’s version was actually a fairly straight-ahead cover of an old Bo Diddley track, which, given that riff is perfectly obvious when you think about it. Bo Diddley’s version has better maracas on it, mind.


The young Jack White, careful scholar of all things authentic and retro, as well as being something of a thieving magpie of the blues was a keen admirer of Captain Beefheart, so much so that the nascent White Stripes recorded a 3 track ep of Beefheart covers. On Sub Pop, it’s rarer than a White Stripes bass player so if you can find anyone daft enough to want to sell you a copy, you’ll need seriously silly money if you want to get yer sweaty little mitts on it. But fear not. If you don’t have the money honey, that’s OK…

Part Of Special Things To Do

China Pig

Ashtray Heart

…and the mp3s come complete with original vinyl snaps, crackles and pops. Party Of Special Things To Do sounds exactly like the White Stripes doing Diddy Wah Diddy. The rest is lo-fi in the extreme; exactly the sort of retro tub-thumping blues that had John Peel all in a lather over Jack ‘n Meg way back when. Enjoy!

My favourite Captain Beefheart track? That would be Big-Eyed Beans From Venus from side 2 of Clear Spot. Mr Zoothorn Rollo plays a mean slide guitar riff. It used to be the ringtone on my phone dontchaknow. The later Beefheart/Magic Band stuff I’ve tried hard to like. I really have. Grow Fins. Ice Cream For Crow. But I just don’t get it. I always listen with the idea that, much like Tom Waits (‘though I love love love Tom Waits), Captain Beefheart is the aural equivalent of whisky – difficult to swallow, but once you’ve got the taste for it you’re keen to try out new blends. Maybe I need to try again. Perhaps even that unplayed copy of Trout Mask Replica will make it’s debut round here any day now. Better late to the party than never at all, eh?

By The Way..

In recent years, it was painting and not music that occupied all of Captain Beefheart’s time. But you knew that already. Below is the none-more Beefheartian Ten Thousand Pistols, No Bumblebees oil on canvas from 1995.

Slight Update

Captain Beefheart’s 10 Commandments of Guitar Playing are here. Random samples:

4. Walk with the devil
Old Delta blues players referred to guitar amplifiers as the “devil box.” And they were right. You have to be an equal opportunity employer in terms of who you’re bringing over from the other side. Electricity attracts devils and demons. Other instruments attract other spirits. An acoustic guitar attracts Casper. A mandolin attracts Wendy. But an electric guitar attracts Beelzebub.

8. Don’t wipe the sweat off your instrument
You need that stink on there. Then you have to get that stink onto your music.

Well worth 10 minutes of anyone’s time!

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

Putting On The Weight

Craig McAllister

Take a load off fanny, take a load for free. Or is it Take a load of fanny, take a load for free? Either way, The Weight by The Band often causes me to let out a wee schoolboy snigger every time I hear it. And in this part of the world I’m quite sure I’m not alone, eh? With typical American insularity (I know! I know! 4 out the 5 were Canadian), his world-weary lyric appears totally unaware of our quirky West of Scotland localisms. Funny that.

Long before Phil Collins and his particularly annoying nasal whine made singing drummers about as cool as cabbage, Levon Helm and his spectacular beard were leading The Band’s mellow blended vocals from behind the drum kit. I’ve always loved their (original) version of The Weight, with its rootsy backing and arm-around-the-shoulder, everything’ll-be-alright-in-the-end lyric. It’s only a few short lumberjack-shirted steps on from the fantastic stuff Dylan had them playing down in the basement of Big Pink and for me, it’s about as good a definition of ‘Americana’ as you could get. So it’s great when someone else can see beyond the boundaries of whatever Americana is and is able to re-interpret the song in their own unique way.

Aretha Franklin hooked up with Duane Allman and recorded this version at Muscle Shoals. Loose, funky and full of those soaraway Aretha vocal moments you know so well, it sounds insistent, urgent and right-on wholly holy gospel. Allman plays bottle guitar throughout like a maniac, while what sounds like the Stax house riff freely on the horns. Nice Chain Of Fools kick drum in the chorus too. Have a listen. Majestic is the word you’re looking for.

Poor Travis. They’ve always been one step out of fashion, betwixt and between the next big thing. Arriving just as the Cava was getting flat at the Britpop party and too soon for an unappreciative public not yet ready for angsty melodic serious indie like Coldplay, who then came along and stole what brief thunder they may have had, they’ve been given a hard time of it. Which is a bit unfair, as they undoubtedly know their onions. The Travis version is straightforward, melodic and clearly heart-felt. No Staxy horns. No slide guitar. But plenty of Scottish soul. Whatever that is.

Talking of soul, and that’s ess oh you ell , brothers and sisters, with a capital ‘S’, The Supremes got together with The Temptations and nailed a version of The Weight for their joint 1969 LP Together that falls somewhere between Aretha ‘n Duane’s free ‘n funky version and the Heavyweight Championship of the World. Two vocal giants of soul slugging it out over 3 minutes of sitar-like guitar riffs, pitch-perfect harmonies (as you might expect) and sock it to ’em male/female call and response vocals. Knockout!

The Weight Trivia

Hairy old 70s rock bores Nazareth took their name from the song’s first line.

The track appears on the movie soundtrack for Easy Rider. In the movie, you hear The Band’s version, but on the soundtrack, due to legal bits ‘n pieces, the version you get is by the band Smith. No, me neither.

The Weight sits at No. 41 in Rolling Stone‘s 500 Greatest Songs Of All Time List.  That makes it better than Waterloo Sunset, but not quite as good as Dancing In the Street.

Bonus Track!

And hot off the press to boot! The Black Crowes played New York a couple of weeks ago and played their version of The Weight then.

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

That’s When I Softly Sigh

Craig McAllister

Good evening children. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.

White Horses was a late 60s/early 70s TV show that readers here of a certain vintage will remember. I don’t, but I am more than familiar with the show’s theme tune, thanks in no small part to the Trashcan Sinatras and the lost art of the b-side. The original, sung by Jacky (real name Jackie Lee) is a light ‘n breezy affair, all mellow parping brass, plucked strings and perfectly e-nun-ci-ated vocals. Twee doesn’t even begin to describe it. Belle & Sebastian fans (d’you see what I did there?) probably rate it as crucial a record as there could possibly be. Tuck it just so under the sleeve of your duffle coat and pop on down to the University Cafe why don’t you?

Image stolen from Five Hungry Joes

The Trashcans take the original and give it the full-blown Cocteau Twins treatment – chiming 12 string guitars, a reverb-soaked vocal that has Frank Reader harmonising with himself throughout and a drum beat that is a sonic metaphor for those white horses that run wild and free in the Camargue in the south of France. The slide guitar that pops up in the middle is sublime – that’s when I softly sigh – sonic cathedrals of sound, man! Sonic cathedrals of sound. And they stuck it away on a b-side (see advert above). Criminal!

An unfamiliar-looking Wedding Present ground out a version for a late-era Peel session (July 2004) that has Gedge and co. twisting Jacky’s pop-lite original into something quite creepy and menacing that wouldn’t sound out of place on Twin Peaks. Adopting the standard indie blueprint of quiet-loud-quiet-louder, this is the sonic equivalent of a gnarly piece of wood – on first glance it looks ugly and out of place, but on closer inspection reveals itself to be a thing of rare beauty. Or something like that.

*Bonus Tracks!

The b-side to the Jacky original was another crackly curio called Too Many Chiefs (Not Enough Indians). If you listen carefully, it sounds a wee bit like the long-lost cousin of Tequila by The Champs. But just a wee bit.

In 1970, a guy called Gerald (not A Guy Called Gerald) gave White Horses the full Papa Smurf treatement. Listen to this once then bin the mp3 and go and wash your hands. Eugh!

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

Brrrrr!

Craig McAllister

Cold, isn’t it? Here’s a couple of self-explanatory tracks and 2 versions of a hip jazz inflected talking blues reinterpreted as a Soul II Soul-style floor shuffler. Or something like that.

Fall Breaks And Back To Winter (also known as The Woodpecker Symphony) is something of an oddball in the Beach Boys‘ mighty canon. Made up of some of The Elements bits n bobs (Mrs O’ Leary’s Cow and Fire) from the abandoned Smile album, it features enough random claps n clatters and eee-long-gaaa-ted incidental backing vocals to suggest Brain Wilson was in full sandpit mode as the tapes rolled. None of the Smile LP really made it into the public domain the way its creator intended, but Fall Breaks And Back To Winter did pop up as the last track on 1967’s mainly terrific Smiley Smile. But you knew that already.

Peter Fonda, main protagonist of 60’s counter-culture California briefly fancied himself as a peace ‘n love balladeer. In 1968 he even went so far as to get Gram Parsons to write him a song and commit it to vinyl. Resplendent in the West Coast contemporary finery of 12 string guitars and tasteful Forever Changes-lite trumpets, November Night didn’t exactly set the heather on fire and Fonda went on to do what he would be best remembered for – producing and acting in Easy Rider.

Beatle fact – when he was 11, Peter Fonda accidentally shot himself. Recounting the tale to a roomful of Beatles,  John Lennon picked up on his “I know what it’s like to be dead” line and wrote She Said She Said.

Given that his Jamaican dad was nicknamed The Black Arrow and played in the 1950s Glasgow Celtic team, Gil Scott-Heron is best known in Scotland as the answer to numerous pub quizzes. 1974’s  Winter In America is the flute ‘n strings Blaxploitationesque jazzy track mentioned at the start. It’s groovy! Saint Etienne‘s version adds that early 90s shuffly Soul II Soul drum loop and a tastefully sampled brass section. It’s not Sarah Cracknell on vocals (Moira Lambert, I think) but it’s still pretty groovy too!

Winter’s here, folks. You’ll catch your death of cold, Sarah. Wrap up tight! Stay tuned.

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

I Got 96 Tears and 96 Eyes*

Craig McAllister

Right from the off, with its rinky dink 2 note Vox Continental organ riff and garage backbeat, 96 Tears is just about the perfect record. Released in 1966 by ? & the Mysterians, it was one of those songs like Louie Louie or Wild Thing that went on to be recorded by everyone and anyone with a fuzz guitar and a hip ear to the underground. It has in its time gone on to sell over a million copies and had over 3 million airplays.


Not bad for a band of Mex-Americans from Michigan with a love of surf music and a well thought out marketing ploy – have an unusual name and an even more unusual singer. It might’ve helped record sales when their lead singer claimed to be a martian who had lived with dinosaurs in a past life. Yep. Or when he claimed to have visited other planets and periods in time. Uh huh. I once had a drama teacher who would say to the class, “I‘m going to turn my back and when I turn around again, I’ll be in character….(….pause….)…Beowulf!!!” Rudy Martinez must’ve been a bit liked this.  He never went out without his sunglasses and only answered to his chosen moniker ‘?’, rather than his given ‘Rudy’, the name his mother preferred to shout when he was listening to his Van Morrison and Them records too loudly. If you’ve ever heard a ? and the Mysterians album, you’ll know how much a debt they owe to wee Van. If not, the ‘96 Tears‘ or ‘The Action‘ albums are good places to start.

96 Tears features regularly when my iPod is on shuffle. Most days will see an appearance of one version or another pop up. I’ve got what seems like 96 versions of it, most fairly pointless faithful recreations of the garage stomping original (Hello, Stranglers! Hello Music Explosion! I’m looking at you, Inspiral Carpets! You built an entire (early) career out of its Nuggety groove.) There’s one or two that take the original and mess with it so much, it just seems like the’d recorded a few minutes of pointless FM static and looped it ad infinitum (Hey there Primal Scream! Stop hiding at the back Suicide – how apt a name.)  Favourites?  Todd Rundgren‘s lo-fi fuzz-bassed studio demo is right up there, Aretha Franklin‘s soulful and (at first unrecognisable) version from Aretha Arrives is classic Aretha, with an almost Respect-like backing. Big Maybelle‘s a-whoopin’ and a-hollerin’ version, all Stax-inspired southern soul groove, underpinned by clipped guitars and a (bold as) brass section first came to my attention on 6 Music’s excellent Craig Charles’ Funk & Soul Show and has been on constant rotation ever since. Then there’s Gerardo Manuel & El Humo‘s super-heavy epic prog rock take. Think Iron Butterfly on jellies. It’s a grower, trust me!

Go fill yer boots…

96 Tears – ? & the Mysterians

96 Tears – Big Maybelle

96 Tears – Aretha Franklin

96 Tears – Gerardo Manuel & El Humo

96 Tears – Primal Scream

96 Tears – Inspiral Carpets

96 Tears – Music Explosion

96 Tears – Todd Rundgren

*…and I can’t believe I don’t have/can’t find a version by The Cramps, so here‘s Human Fly, featuring the line in the title at the top.

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

David Gedge! 25 Years In the Business! Yay!

Craig McAllister

Keeping It Peel is the brainchild of the good persons over at Football And Music. To honour the memory of the late great John Peel, Football And Music has decreed October the 25th “a sort of John Peel Day, but for bloggers.” Like many of the blogs listed on the Blogroll down there on the right, I’m in. It seems the right thing to do – as a music-obsessed teenager I listened religiously, finger sweating on the ‘pause’ button of my music centre waiting patiently to catch and magnetise some of those brilliantly weird and parent-bothering new sounds floating through the ether and onto my crappy cheap Boots C90s. I quickly developed the skill of being able to depress the ‘pause’ button in that wee space just between JP stopping talking and the record starting. In hindsight, I wish I’d been less skillful, as I’d love to listen back to those old tapes and be able to hear some of what he was saying. I still have some of the tapes up the loft. I should really get them down and have a wade through them sometime. Y’know, without John  Peel etc etc blah blah blah…

So, what to post? Much of the stuff I enjoyed on the Peel Show (roughly about 3 records an hour if I’m being honest) ended up being the stuff recorded by my future favourite bands. You know who they are, they’re the same as yours. I could be wilfully obscure or wilfully elitist, but in keeping with the unpretentious nature of the band I’ve chosen to feature, I won’t. The ubiquitous Fall may be forever linked-uh with John Peel, but to me The Wedding Present are just as big a deal – he gave them plenty of opportunity to record sessions for his show and they seemed to appreciated the platform he afforded them. Peel’s listeners clearly appreciated them too – they had a massive 45 tracks included throughout the years in Peel’s Festive 50s, a feat only bettered by, aye, The Fall.  And besides, David Gedge is the nicest pop star I’ve ever met – you can read all about it here.

Fan snap shot of The Wedding Present, Glasgow Barrowlands

(you can tell by the white tiles on the ceiling) 1988

Their session from the 24th May 1988 is my favourite Wedding Present Peel Session. This is the sound of a band no longe ramshacklingly scrubbing tinny guitars with brillo pads and replaying the reults through cheap amplifiers. This is the sound of a band who’ve managed to recreate their favourite sounds of alt. America in their live set – low rumbling bass that sounds as if it’s balls have dropped, meatier guitars played through proper amplifiers; tight, taut, tense, terrific. They would later go on to replicate this sound on their masterpiece LP, major label debut Bizarro (aye, forget the George Best album. No tears now.)

The 24.5.88 session is almost the perfect session. As was often the norm at these sessions, the band recorded 3 brand spanking new songs and one sparkling cover version. Nowadays, those three spanking new songs would be all over the internet the moment the last screech of feedback had died out and would have been digested, discussed and dissected by chat boards from Bradford to Berlin and beyond before breakfast. In pre-internet days, the C90 and your ‘pause’ button were your only friends. Fearful of taking a toilet break (Misty In Roots was my calling card every time), you captured what you could and replayed it the next day and more until the tape started to sound a bit wonky. Over time of course, this only added to the charm of a clandestinely captured Peel Session. It was often something of a shock to hear the ‘new’ song for the first time on the band’s album and finds that it didn’t slow down and speed up during the last chorus. Kids today with their mp3s, huh? They don’t know what they were missing. The 4 tracks I captured in all their hissy glory?

  1. Why Are You Being So Reasonable Now? (with ‘single‘ written through it like a stick of Blackpool rock, it was released on 7″ 4 months later. It even ended up being recorded and released in French)
  2. Unfaithful (workmanlike strumathon, eventually saw the light of day on the b-side of Kennedy (October 89 – Number 33  in the proper, real Hit Parade, pop pickers!)
  3. Take Me! (introduced by the DJ as Take Me, I’m Yours, released as Take Me! on Bizarro just under a year and a half later, this is a terrific indication of where the post George Best Wedding Present were heading (major labels, Steve Albini, America, Top of the Pops, my fanzine…))
  4. Happy Birthday (Altered Images cover, complete with Marilyn Monroe singing to JFK, “Happy Birthday Mr Pre.Si.Dent“. at the start)

Take Me, I’m Yours was my favourite. Over 8 minutes long, it featured an extended outro complete with Status Quo riffing, not the sort of thing expected from yer Wedding Present at all. The band must’ve been in on some Quo-related in-joke, for on Happy Birthday Gedge gleeefully shouts, “Status Quo, 25 years in the business!” and the band all cheer. It still tickles me today. The session tracks above are taken from my shiny, pristine Wedding Present Peel Sessions Box Set. Free of any FM hiss and missed guitar riffs they (cough…ahem) Present the Weddoes in the best possible way. I’m amazed that the Marilyn Monroe intro to Happy Birthday has been retained. I’d’ve thought that would’ve cost an arm and a leg to get the clearance for, perhaps even more than the expected return after selling however many copies of the box set they expected to sell. This music, after all, was recorded by a band who once sold a t-shirt proudly proclaiming in big black letters, ‘All The Songs Sound The Same‘. Who wants to sit through 12 John Peel Sessions over 6CDs in the one sitting? Only a fool. But a fool with particularly good taste.

The official Wedding Present website seems to be no more is here, and this excellent fan site has all you need and more. The image above, of David Gedge’s handwritten lyrics and guitar chords for Unfaithful and that shot of the band at the Barrowlands were taken from there. Thanks, Something And Nothing website!

*Bonus tracks!

Woah-woaw! Just cos it’s a cracker, here‘s The Wedding Present’s version of Orange Juice’s Felicity (Peel Session #1, 11th February 1986)

I used to have a few complete Peel Shows from the late 60s and early 70s which I’d have loved to make available for download here, but following the disaster that was the Great Hard Drive Crash of 2007, this is no longer possible. Instead, I offer you this – the complete 1971 David Bowie Peel Session. Some of this (crucially, not all of it) made it onto the Bowie At The Beeb CD set a few years back. Plenty of chat from Peel (and Bowie for that matter). Get it while you can.

Cover Versions, Dylanish, Hard-to-find

Thou shalt not put musicians and recording artists on ridiculous pedestals no matter how great they are or were.

Craig McAllister

Bob Dylan? Is he not dead? A colleague asked me that a couple of years ago, just before I bored them to within an inch of their death with useless Bob trivia, making them wish they’d had the foresight to not think out loud in my presence. I love all things Bob and many things Bob-related. He can be the most obnoxious, obscure, obfuscating person I never want to meet, but he can also be The. Best. Thing. Ever. Right at the top of that ridiculous pedestal. But you probably knew that already.

With the release of the Bootleg Series Volume 9 (the Witmark Demos) just around the corner, it’s worth noting that Columbia records tried to get many artists to have a go at a Dylan track – they heard the ring-a-ding-ding not from the wonderful sounds old wheezy Bob and his trusty harmonica were commiting to vinyl, but in the glossy cover versions of the pop artists du jour. The Witmark Demos was Columbia’s way of getting Dylan into a studio with all the songs he had, pressing ‘record’ and firing out the recorded results to whoever they thought might be able to sugar coat it all the way to the toppermost of the poppermost. You don’t need me to tell you that many have tried (and will continue to do so), but nobody sings Bob Dylan like Robert Allen Zimmerman. Certainly not The Byrds, who recorded whole albums worth of his stuff. Certainly not N. E. One with an acoustic guitar, no decent hair-do to speak of and the noose-like albatross tag of ‘The New Dylan‘ hanging round their neck. And certainly not those X Factor hopefuls who’ve started giving Time Out Of Mind‘s Make You Feel My Love the Mariah Carey ‘soul’ treatment. There were at least 2 versions on last weekend’s show. Enough to give anyone the dry boaks (Google it, non Scots everywhere). Of course, for every 3000 bad versions of Dylan songs, one good one pokes it’s head carefully round the corner long enough for someone to notice.

Like this one.

I heard this for the very first time only last week and I couldn’t believe my ears. Frankie Valli, helium voiced purveyor of northern soul perennial The Night, bouffanted crooner of the Grease theme tune and subject matter of musical theatre or theater depending which side of the world you’re on does a spot-on version of Highway 61 Revisited‘s Queen Jane Approximately that is absobloodylutely magic. Between the opening Mr Tambourine Man-aping (Byrds version) guitar riff, the fabulous Four Seasons call and response backing vocals and the rolling and tumbling piano riffs, I can’t believe this track has escaped my attention for so long. It sounds like any one of those bands from the Nuggets compilation, Mouse & the Traps maybe. I’d never have guessed Frankie Valli was responsible for it. It’s my favourite record of the year so far, until I track down the unreleased Frankie Sings Bob sessions that must surely lurk in the darkest corners of this here interweb.

From one extreme to another.

Dan Le Sac V’s Scroobius Pip were briefly famous 3 years ago with their Thou Shalt Always Kill single. Take time to read this. Just like Bob Dylan, it’s poetry (man)…

Thou shalt not steal if there is a direct victim.
Thou shalt not worship Pop Idols or follow Lostprophets.
Thou shalt not take the names of Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer,
Johnny Hartman, Desmond Decker, Jim Morrison,
Jimi Hendrix or Syd Barrett in vain.
Thou shalt not think that any male over the age of 30
That plays with a child that is not their own is a paedophile.
Some people are just nice.
Thou shalt not read NME.
Thou shalt not stop liking a band just because they’ve become popular.
Thou shalt not question Stephen Fry.
Thou shalt not judge a book by it’s cover.
Thou shalt not judge Lethal Weapon by Danny Glover.
Thou shalt not buy Coca-Cola products.
Thou shalt not buy Nestle products.
Thou shalt not go into the woods with your boyfriend’s best friend,
Take drugs and cheat on him.
Thou shalt not fall in love so easily.
Thou shalt not use poetry, art or music to get into girls’ pants.
Use it to get into their heads.
Thou shalt not watch Hollyoaks.
Thou shalt not attend an open mic and leave
As soon as you’ve done your shitty little poem or song
You self-righteous prick.
Thou shalt not return to the same club or bar week in,
Week out just ’cause you once saw a girl there that
You fancied that you’re never gonna fucking talk to anyway.

Thou shalt not put musicians and
Recording artists on ridiculous pedestals
No matter how great they are or were.
The Beatles: Were just a band.
Led Zeppelin: Just a band.
The Beach Boys: Just a band.
The Sex Pistols: Just a band.
The Clash: Just a band.
Crass: Just a band.
Minor Threat: Just a band.
The Cure: Were just a band.
The Smiths: Just a band.
Nirvana: Just a band.
The Pixies: Just a band.
Oasis: Just a band.
Radiohead: Just a band.
Bloc Party: Just a band.
The Arctic Monkeys: Just a band.
The Next Big Thing… JUST A BAND.

And on and on it goes. You’d like it. See/hear it here. Anyway, around the same time, Dan Le Sac also took Blowing In The Wind, cut it to shreds, threw it up into the air, stuck it back together again in whatever order it landed and looped it into almost 8 and a half minutes of insanity. It‘s called Bob Dylan Thing. You might not like it. You might decide it’s the best thing since, well, Bob. You may even want to stick it on some ridiculous pedestal. But I doubt it. Give it a go though, eh?

Random fact

Bob has gone on record saying Elvis’ verson of Tomorrow Is A Long Time is the best cover version of one of his songs. That’s all folks!

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

God Save The Queen Of Denmark

Craig McAllister

John Grant‘s Queen Of Denmark album is a slow-burning beauty of a record. It’ll appear on every hipster’s Best Of 2010 list, yet I doubt it did so much as graze the outer reaches of the stalest charts since I don’t know when. All the hippest of hipsters like to keep these things to themselves, y’see, so they can say “told you so” when the time is perceived to be right. Queen Of Denmark is melancholic, melodic, Midlake-mentored and as richly produced as anything from the Golden Year of 1973 (right up there with Band On The Run, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, For Your Pleasure) It’s good, so it is. You’d like it.

Before flying solo, John Grant was leader of The Czars. Much like the album mentioned above, The Czars flew under almost everyone’s radar, save a few canny folk with one ear stuck to the ground and a finger lodged in their other ear in an attempt to keep out the cor blimey mockneyisms and northern infleccheeeoooons of the lad rock that wafted out of every butchers, bakers and candlestick makers up and down the country. There are many bands you could argue were born at the wrong time (hello Trashcan Sinatras), but The Czars, with 6 albums, 3 singles and an EP released to general indifference throughout the mid 90s and early 00′s can stake a claim to that unlucky title. I’d like to be able to tell you I was one of the few with that ear to the ground in 1994, but even though I’d heard of them when a local band supported them around 1997, I didn’t get on board (there were plenty of seats left mind) until 2001′s The Ugly People Vs. the Beautiful People.

Starting with the eerie melancholy of the aptly-named ‘Drug’, The Ugly People…album smacked me (ouch) between the eyes in a way I’d never been hit (oof) since Elliott Smith’s XO masterpiece. I got my fix (stop!) by playing the album daily, like some sort of deathly ritual until I was absolutely sick fed up of it. S’a great album n all that, but I only began playing it again recently after I’d heard Queen Of Denmark. More fool me.

From this point on, I went on a bit of a Czars bender. I went back and started at the beginning of their recorded output (Moodswing), where Cocteau Twin Simon Raymonde came on board. He signed them to his label, produced them and carried out some A&R, encouraging them to cover Song To The Siren along the way. With no real commercial success (and precious little critical acclaim) The Czars split up to no great fanfare in 2004. Strange to think that in 3 years, I’d heard and processed their entire catalogue. Processed? Gruff Rhys of the Super Furry Animals says that he heard the Velvet Underground so much when he was younger that he never needs to listen to them again, that their music is stored in the human iPod, the myPod if you may, that is the human brain. I’m a bit like that with many bands, The Czars included.

And now I’m discovering them all over again, thanks to John Grant releasing Queen Of Denmark.