Category: Cover Versions

Cover Versions, entire show, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

Tres Bon Ivers

Craig McAllister

That story from the other day (here) about the boy who swapped his iPod for a Walkman for a week had me thinking back to all my old compilation tapes I’ve still got in a box. I used to listen to the John Peel show religiously and sit with my finger poised over the pause button of the cassette deck on my music centre (as they were called, in my house at least, between 1983 and 1990, until CD first came into my life) waiting for something good to pop up inbetween the anarcho-punk, dub reggae, Ivor Cutler and Fall tracks. Nowadays I can appreciate that for the most part, John Peel’s show was all good, but to a 13 year old mad about Adam and The Ants, Crass, Culture and Captain Beefheart were a step too far.

By the end of the 80s I was a dab hand at recording entire Peel Sessions. If I was lucky I’d pause it just before Peel started talking. In hindsight, that was a stupid thing to do. I’d love to know what he said about some of the sessions I taped, but his comments have floated off into the ethers of time. I still have those tapes though…

cassette

The House of Love (“Hey man, the bongos are too loud” – I managed to capture Peel that night!), numerous Wedding Presents, a great Inspiral Carpets session with their original singer that sounded like The Doors and The Teardrop Explodes slugging it out after 17 microdots. And some fantastic Pixies stuff, including their first Peel Session.

pixies bw

You can find out all you need to know about any John Peel session at this indispensable site here. This Pixies one was recorded at Maida Vale 4 on 3rd May 1988 (21 years ago!!!) and broadcast about a week later, the session was notable for a couple of things. Firstly, it sounded fantastic. Pristine recording. Short, short songs. Frank Black screaming his big fat head off. Listening to it now, I can vouch that it still sounds fantastic today. Secondly, the choice of songs the band played was interesting. Two tracks from their recently released ‘Come On Pilgrim’ ep, two cover versions and a track that wouldn’t see the light of day until the ‘Doolittle‘ album.

pixies bar

About 10 years ago, long before file sharing had reached the West of Scotland I bought a Pixies bootleg called ‘Rough Diamonds’. This album has 5 tracks credited to the May 88 session, but my old tape has 4 songs from the session. I either missed their pre-Doolittle version of ‘Hey‘, or that song wasn’t broadcast in the first place. The 5 tracks are:

Hey

Levitate Me

Wild Honey Pie

Caribou

In Heaven (Lady In The Radiator Song) 

In contrast to the rather daft and throwaway Beatles original, Wild Honey Pie is a full-on Frank Black scream-fest that wouldn’t sound out of place in any Pixies set of original material. In Heaven.. is a cover of a song from David Lynch’s ‘Eraserhead’. But you knew that already. Have you ever heard Peter Ivers original? Creeeeeeepy. High pitched voice, churchy keyboard and a wind effect at the end. The Pixies do a pretty good job of replicating it, but I think the Flaming Lips would really make this one soar. I’m now off to illegally seek out some Peter Ivers recordings.  Enjoy the session!

peter ivers

I heart Peter Ivers

 

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

I like it, I like it, I la la la like it.

Craig McAllister

Watching Glastonbury from the comfort of my armchair, one band stuck out like a sore thumb. But a good sore thumb. A really good sore thumb. Springsteen? Hmmm. Sure, he’s got the knack of making a hundred thousand people feel like he’s serenading them on a one-to-one basis in the dressing room of King Tuts. Neil Young? Hmmm, yeah, but he does go on a wee bit too long. Just a tiny bit, but a wee bit nonetheless. Long may you run and all that, but c’mon Neil. Blur? Punkpoppogoagogo. Damon All Bran shadow boxing and jogging on the spot. Graham Coxon rolling around on the floor whilst soloing. Yeah, it’s all very 1992. I liked them a lot. But nope. The band that really did it for me were Status Quo. Yep. You read that right first time. Status Quo.

If only for their opening 5 minute salvo, I’d have been delighted to stand in a crowded field full of B.O. and pollen. Had I been there, my fingers would’ve been firmly in my belt loops and I’d’ve been heabanging away like some of those hopelessly embarrasing bald-on-top, long at the back tour t-shirt-wearing accountants-by-day oldies. Status Quo’s opening song sounded so good, I thought it was 1973 again. There’s a slow build up of feedback that Kevin Shield’s would’ve been proud of. Parfitt’s fingers are barred and poised to start chugging out the F-Shape at the 13th fret. As he finds the rhythm and locks the groove, Rossi fades himself in with that instantly recognisable counter riff on his green Tele. The rest of the band get on with the no-nonsense heads-down boogie and we’re off. Come on Sweet Caroline! Take my hand, together we can rock and roll! As that other rock ‘n roller who clearly stole Parfitt n’ Rossi’s patented denim-with-white-trainers look might say, Sen. Say. Shee. Oh. Nal. Aye Liam. You’ve been out rocked and out rolled by a couple of old men in waistcoats and bad hair.

quo

Of course, twas not always thus. Sure, they’ve mostly always had bad hair and often had a penchant for sporting the garishly coloured waistcoat, but back in the 60s, Status Quo were fresh from the Butlins holiday camp circuit and had a ‘The’ at the start of their name. If you’ve ever seen Spinal Tap (and of course you have) The Status Quo were a psychedelic beat combo in much the same vein as that film’s The Thamesmen. Paisley shirts? Check! Wah-wah? Oh yes! Multi-coloured guitars? Absolutely man!

status quo thamesmen

The Status Quo                        The Thamesmen

The Status Quo are amazing. They’re probably best known for Pictures of Matchstick Men, covered by many including most recently Kasabian for a Radio 2 session with Dermot O’Leary. Christ. I hate that band. They’d love to be Primal Scream, wouldn’t they? Anyway, back to The Status Quo. Not ‘The Quo’. That means ‘In The Army Now’ and best-forgotten collaborations with Manchester United. The Status Quo. Ice In The Sun. Another slice of 60s psychedelia. A coupla years later and they’d be slaves to the boogie. Here‘s their version of The Doors ‘Roadhouse Blues’. Guilty as charged, m’lud. For years I never knew this was a cover. When I was 10 I got ‘From the Makers Of…‘ a triple LP Status Quo Box Set from Santa. It’s still in my collection, as is  ‘Picturesque Matchstickabale Memories From The Status Quo’. If you only buy one Status Quo album this year, etc etc….You’ll not find it in Tesco but it’s worth seeking out.

status quo matchstick

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

Ripping off Johnny? Off with their heads!

Craig McAllister

Can’t get that new Yeah Yeah Yeahs single out of my head at the moment. ‘Heads Will Roll’ is cracking; hysterical vocals, electro rush and an outrageously shame-faced borrowing of the guitar riff from PIL‘s ‘This Is Not A Love Song’. Where John Lydon sneers, Karen O breathes. Where PIL throbs, Yeah Yeah Yeahs soar. But there’s no denying both are terrific songs, even if one borrows heavily from the other.

pil

The original version of ‘This Is Not A Love Song’ was PIL‘s biggest hit single, reaching number 5 in 1983. A remixed version featuring brass, keyboards and noticeably less guitar was released as a 12″. It was this version that prompted guitarist Keith Levene to leave the band. I don’t know what he’d have made of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (cough) ‘reworking’ of the track – it too is fairly keyboard heavy. But for want of a better phrase, it rocks!

yeahyeahyeahs

I like Karen O, even if she looks like she’s going out as Joey Ramone for Halloween. She’s got the attitude, style and ballsy presence that all my favourite female singers have. I’d never tire of punching those other 2 though. Wimpy poseurs in skinny jeans. Grow up ya couple of fannys. Still. ‘Heads Will Roll’. Great single. In a gazillion different mixes too…

Heads Will Roll (original)

Heads Will Roll (LA Boxers Dub Remix)

Heads Will Roll (Johnny Roxx Remixx)

Heads Will Roll (Foulhouse Remix)

Heads Will Roll (Weird Tapes version)

Heads Will Roll (Emre B remix)

*BONUS TRACK! French artist singing in English cocktail jazz re-working of ‘This Is Not A Love Song’. Covered by Nouvelle Vague. Fact 1. Pete Doherty would give his trilby-hatted skanky head to get this sound on one of his records. Fact 2. Nouvelle Vague’s version of  Love Will Tear Us Apart is one of the most downloaded tracks on Plain Or Pan. Seek and ye shall find. 

Cover Versions

Our Friends Eclectic

Craig McAllister

Forever just that one crucial half-step behind the hip and happening, tonight finds Plain Or Pan puffing, panting, gasping and wheezing in order to bring you the most exciting thing I’ve just heard since, oooh, well, the last exciting thing I’ve just heard (that’td be the Danger Mouse album, scroll down a wee bit). Aye. Most of you will no doubt at least have heard of these tracks by now and will possibly have them already. Some of the more astute amongst you may even have actual physical shiny black vinyl copies of a couple of the tracks. If so, bear with me. And do tip me off about such things in future. For the rest of you who pop over here from time to time, I bring you The Dead Weather.

the-dead-weather

Aye. the Dead Weather. An electro-blues based guitar supergroup of sorts. Featuring a Queen of the Stone Age on guitar, a Raconteur/Greenhorne on bass, a Kill on sulky vocals and the multi-talented Jack White on yer drums. A line-up like that could be a catastrophe in the making but no, everything I’ve heard so far sounds just as you’d expect. Distorted vocals. Crunching riffs. Stops. Starts. Squealy bits. To compare The Dead Weather to that drummer’s other 2 bands would be folly. The White Stripes? Bluesy, loud, fantastic, but the drummer cannae  play for toffee. The Raconteurs? They’ve taken their history classes in classic guitar rock, filtered out the worst excesses and passed the test with flying colours. And a decent drummer. Kick out the jams and all that. The Dead Weather? Aye. All of the above and more. They sound NOW!, not retro. These tracks have all been floating around cyberspace for a wee while now, but the versions below are the best quality mp3s around.

Hang You From The Heavens (First singe. Track 1 on Horehound)

Are Friends Electric? (b-side to single. Gary Numan/Tubeway Army cover)

Treat Me Like Your Mother (track 2 on Horehound, out July 14th)

They’re all fantastic, but on first listens alone, Treat Me Like Your Mother makes it straight into my Best of The Year compilation that I pass out to friends every Christmas. A duet of sorts ‘tween singer n’ drummer, it sounds like Led Zeppelin battling it out with PJ Harvey. It’s that good. “M.A.N.I.P. Yooolate!” If I had it on vinyl, it’d be worn down to the thickness of a flexi-disc by now. As I don’t, the only only other thing that’s puffing, panting, gasping and wheezing round here is Windows Media Player. Even it’s not fed up of The Dead Weather yet. Unlike that Danger Mouse album, if truth be told (!)

the-dead-weather-music-video

Cover Versions, demo, Hard-to-find

Can Gone Congo! Total Jungle Funk, Man!

Craig McAllister

 

 Hey! Hey! Hey! A-Hey! Hey! Hey! You’re twistin’ my melon, man! You know you talk so hip man, you’re twistin’ my melon, man! Call The Cops!

And with that carefully chosen piece of garbled nonsense Shaun Ryder, the thinking man’s Poet Laureate, put his band the Happy Mondays and a whole host of shuffly drummered 3rd rate copyists into the mainstream where they set up camp in Nedville for every Joe Bloggsed-up ned, bam and ‘yeah but no but yeah but right but’ wee hairy to claim them as their very own. Not that us music snobs were in anyway put out of course.

john kongos

Yer real actual music fans could tell you that “Step On was a cover, actually“, by the wonderfully named John Kongos. Sounds a bit like Congo, doesn’t it? Which is fairly appropriate, as his original version is a thumping tribal chant of a record. With a brilliant guitar riff. Replicated note for twanging note by Horse, yer Mondays tragically under-rated natty hat-wearing guitar player. Much like the Sex Pistols and Glen Matlock, the rest of the band hated him. He didn’t play in any of the comeback gigs. There’s yer problem right there, reformed Happy Mondays.

happy mondays

South African-born Kongos was also responsible for giving the Mondays another hit in the form of Tokoloshe Man. The original features a bluesy, swampy guitar riff and more tribal drumming a la He’s Gonna Step On You Again. The cover is pretty faithfull, although the Ryder brothers have flung a big bucket of Salford grime, muck and scuzz all over their clattering industrial funk and most of it’s stuck.  Paul Oakenfold does his best to polish it up, but it’s not too glossy. A perfect example of (gads) late 80s/early 90s indie-dance, in other words.

Johnny Wakelin

The 2 John Kongos tracks really remind me of In Zaire. The 1976 original was by Johnny Wakelin. Written about the Ali-Foreman 1974 Rumble In The Jungle boxing match, it has since been recorded by numerous no-mark disco artists. When I first started going to discos as an under-ager, In Zaire was regulalry played. I loved it. Johnny Wakelin’s version is the best. Chanting, repetitive riffs, tribalism again, it’s like Can gone Congo. Total jungle funk, man! 

Bonus tracks!

Happy Mondays – Step On (Stuff It In mix)

Happy Mondays – Bring a Friend (Bummed album demo)

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, Sampled

Yeeeaaaeeeh! This Deck(s) is on Fire!

Craig McAllister

I heard Suggs on Radio 2 this morning, waxing lyrical about Unfinished Sympathy by Massive Attack. Without a doubt one of the greatest singles of the last 20 years, it was probably the first record of it’s genre to turn me onto music that wasn’t guitar-based and played by skinny, spotty wee boys from the Home Counties. Hearing it again had me scrambling around my record collection to find all the other mixes of the track that I have. The best ones are available below…

massive attack unfinished

The track originally appeared on Blue Lines, which you knew anyway, and is an album you’ve probably heard/got already. If not, it’s never too late. Go seek it out. The single was released around the time of the Gulf War starting in 1991 and as a result Massive Attack were forced to shorten their name to Massive. A wise move, as Unfinished Sympathy was all over the airwaves. Every time I saw MTV at my girlfriend’s house, the video was on. Pre-dating Richard Ashcroft’s cocky gangling swagger in the video for Bittersweet Symphony (coincidence?) by a good few years, it showed guest vocalist Shara Nelson walking through the steets of LA’s West Pico Boulevard seemingly unaware of the chaos around her. Apparently it was shot in one take. If I could, I’d include the video below, but YouTube being what it is these days doesn’t have the original promo on it anymore. I’ll have to make do with this still instead.

shara1

As you will be aware, the track is a cracker. However, you may not be aware that it starts with a percussion sample from Bob James’ version of Paul Simon’s ‘Take Me To The Mardi Gras’. Bob James’ whole track is a wee bit elevator muzak for my liking, but if you listen carefully you’ll hear that distinctive banging on pots’n’pans and tapping on glasses filled with water percussion break. Massive Attack speeded it up a wee bit and built their track around it. There you go.

The track is mostly revered for its string part. The story goes that the band had used synthetic strings in the studio but knew that the track really need the full orchestral swoop that their keyboards just couldn’t replicate. But that cost money. Lots of money. And the band were skint. So they hatched a plan. Tossing a coin, the loser (don’t know who it was) was forced to sell his BMW in order to pay for the string section. Luckily for all involved, every one of them would soon be able to have any BMW they desired, but who knew that at the time?

massive attack shara

Hear No Evil. See No Evil. Speak No Evil. Make brilliant record.

I have 5 versions of the track. There may be more, I don’t know. To be truthful, the mixes I have all sound quite samey to these ears. But as it’s such a  brilliant track, who’s complaining? The Paul Oakenfold Perfecto mix is a good remix, building on the percussive base of the original and taking it into slightly Stone Roses territory. Or at least, I thought so 18 years ago. Nelle Hooper’s mix is fairly straightforward, adding some choral backing vocals and pushing the bass a wee bit more to the fore (I’ve included the 12″ mix, but not the 7″), but for me, the original is still the best. Contrast and compare below.

Original mix

Nellee Hooper 12″

Perfecto Mix

Instrumental

Naturally, the success of the track spawned a thousand imitations. Bjork’s ‘Play Dead’ being one of them. (But that’s a great record too). Less successful were the cover versions. I know you’re sitting there thinking, “Who’d even attempt to cover Unfinished Sympathy?” Well. Tina Turner. That’s who.  What d’you make of this? Yep.  Takes me right back to my days on the shop floor in Our Price. A right stinker, just as I’d remembered. Overblown, windswept and bloated. With a hilarious spoken outro. Gads! We don’t need another hero, Tina. Stick to singing Mark Knopfler throwaways. She used to be great in the 60s too. What happened?  

Oh, and another thing.  When I eventually get round to learning the piano, the piano part from Unfinished Sympathy is the one thing I’ll aim to master. Those big bassy minor chords and the tinkly melodic bit. Hey, hey hey-a hey!

MassiveAttack decks

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

Since you’ve g-o-o-o-ne ah got a mess of the blues

Craig McAllister

The words of Elvis Himselvis. Maybe my favourite Elvis tune ever. It’s certainly one of them, right up there with Guitar Man et al. Anyway. A mess of the blues. Or to be more exact, many versions of Blues Run The Game. Written and originally recorded by Jackson C Frank it’s become a ubiquitous live standard on the folk scene. It’s been sung by a million sensitive finger picking  souls. And it’s been recorded by hundreds of them too. Some versions better than others, none of them particularly messy (sorry if the heading was misleading), all of them worthy of hearing for different reasons.

jackson c frank

Jackson C Frank’s story is tragic. In another world and time he’d be as revered as Tim Buckley or Nick Drake. If you know about him, this’ll ring true. If you’ve never heard about him read on.

In 1954 when he was 11, an explosion in Jackson’s school killed15 of his classmates and left him disfigured and hospitalised for 7 months. During this time he learned to play the guitar. The explosion in the school was national news at the time and a substantial compensation was set aside for victims of the event. Fast forward to Jackson’s 21st birthday and a cheque for $100,000. Not a nice way to receive such a  sum of money, but Jackson grabbed his chance and set off for England, with the money burning a hole in his pocket and the intention of buying ‘cars and guitars’. Stop for a moment and ponder that statement. I recently re-read Ian Hunter’s fantastic ‘Diary of a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star’. After reading it, the one thing I’d bet my house on is the fact that America has all the best cars and guitars. Jackson must’ve had very conservative tastes indeed.

Meeting Paul Simon on the folk circuit led to Simon producing the ‘Blues Run The Game’ album. The track of the same name was the first original song he wrote and was a standout both on record and in concert. No internet in those days, the folkies would sit, ear cocked with note book and pen in hand to quickly scribble the words. They’d then add it to their own set of songs for their next show at The Finger In The Ear or wherever they were on.  I know this as fact. As the son of 2 folkies, I ‘borrowed’ my dad’s copy of ‘Bringing It All Back Home’ and inside it found this scribbled sheet of A4 paper with half the words to Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream scrawled across it in some form of shorthand. Anyway, I digress. Jackson’s story doesn’t turn out particularly happy.

There’s a phrase they use. A musician’s musician. It means someone so supremely gifted that their peers worhsip at their fantastically talented feet. Not necessarily the wider audience at large. The paying customer.  Never was this phrase more true of Jackson C Frank. Dylan. Drake. Denny. All playing on the same folk scene at the time, they all dug him. (Everyone dug everyone in the 60s, yeah?) But as Sandy Denny and especially Dylan (we’ll talk about Nick Drake another time) went onto sell records and everything else, Jackson didn’t. A combination of writer’s block and mental health problems (a knock-on effect from the events in his childhood) saw him fall apart quite spectacularly. At the start of the 70s his son died from cystic fibrosis. Heavily depressed, before he knew it, his mental health was so bad he was institutionalised. Following this, he wandered the streets of New York homeless and helpless. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time led to him being shot and blinded. Through years of neglect, his voice was shot and no matter who tried to help him, it seemed Jackson wanted nothing from anyone. Shame, as his friends could see what was happening and were trying desparately to help him recapture his muse and maybe steady him on an even keel once more. It was not to be. Jackson’s troubled life ended in 1999 when he died of a heart attack, aged 56. Cheery stuff, eh?

jackson c frank 99

Jackson C Frank in 1999. Holy fuck.

Blues Run The Game is the sort of song Elliott Smith would be writing these days if he too were still alive. What is it about fucked-up singer-songwriters? It has been done by many. Here’s a few versions….

Nick Drake (taken from one of the countless bootlegs available online)

Bert Jansch (faithful and tasteful re-working)

Simon & Garfunkel (outtake from their debut album sessions)

Eddi Reader (gives it a restrained, shuffly acoustic Led Zeppelin III treatment. Taken from her Simple Soul album. S’a cracker)

Headless Heroes (Feisty-sounding, anonymous 21st century collective from America. S’another cracker!)

Any other 21st century folkies with an ear cocked and notebook and pen poised might be interested in the following…

Catch a boat to England, baby,
Maybe to Spain,
Wherever I have gone,
Wherever I’ve been and gone,
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same.

Send out for whisky, baby,
Send out for gin,
Me and room service, honey,
Me and room service, babe,
Me and room service
Well, we’re living a life of sin

When I’m not drinking, baby,
You are on my mind,
When I’m not sleeping, honey,
When I ain’t sleeping, mama,
When I’m not sleeping
Well you know you’ll find me crying.

Try another city, baby,
Another town,
Wherever I have gone,
Wherever I’ve been and gone,
Wherever I have gone
The blues come following down.

Living is a gamble, baby,
Loving’s much the same,
Wherever I have played,
Wherever I throw them dice,
Wherever I have played
The blues have run the game.

Maybe tomorrow, honey,
Someplace down the line,
I’ll wake up older,
So much older, mama,
Wake up older
And I’ll just stop all my trying.

Catch a boat to England, baby,
Maybe to Spain,
Wherever I have gone,
Wherever I’ve been and gone,
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same.

 

jackson15

Happy Jack

 

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

Reissue! Revalue! Repackage!

Craig McAllister

…in more ways than one. Morrissey, the Wilderness Years began in 1995 and lasted, some would say until 2004’s ‘You Are The Quarry’ album. He floated between labels, juggled his band line-up around and, possibly due to the fact he was whoring himself around Hollywood at the time, failed to capitalise on the jingoistic nature of BritPop and all that jazz. I actually think he’s still in the middle of a wilderness as I write, but who am I to say? I don’t go to his gigs these days; have you heard his band? Have you seen his band? 4 bouncers playing bad rock with about as much soul as a lump of wood. And I don’t buy the new stuff. That new single about someone squeezing his skull is, bluntly, shite. So why on earth he’s decided to re-release the 2 worst selling (if not actually just worst overall) albums in his catalogue at this precise moment in time is a mystery that not even Miss Marple could solve.

fat morrissey

This alarming man

Except he’s not actually re-releasing them, he’s re-presenting them. Southpaw Grammar and Maladjusted have been fiddled about with. They’ve both been given new artwork. Both running orders have changed. Whole songs have disappeared (bye bye Maladjusted‘s lead-off stinker of a single ‘Roy’s Keen’), old b-sides and previously-binned tracks have taken their place (hello ‘Sorrow Will Come In The End’). Yes. Sorrow Will Come In The End. Yes? Yes, because it’s a belter.

morrissey last supper

‘Friend, do what you came for’

It starts like Nick Drake, all downbeat cello and string quartet. It continues with all the pathos of prime beehive-era Shangri-Las or Dusty Springfield. Whips crack. Flutes shrill. It goes into waltz time. Neil Tennant frantically starts scribbling in his Big Book Of Songwriting Tips. Why is it so good? Cos old sourpuss is singing about his court battle with Mike Joyce, where the amiable drummer won and claimed his share of the Euro Millions. It’s a stinging tale of hatred and revenge. But you knew that already. If you didn’t, you could work it out for yourself…

mike joyce

Here’s the words, every last stinging one of ’em…

Legalized theft
Leaves me bereft
I get it straight in the neck
(Somehow expecting no less)
A court of justice
With no use for Truth
Lawyer …liar
Lawyer …liar
You pleaded and squealed
And you think you’ve won
But Sorrow will come
To you in the end
And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain
Q.C.’s obsessed with sleaze
Frantic for Fame
They’re all on the game
They just use a different name
You lied
And you were believed
By a J.P. senile and vile
You pleaded and squealed
And you think you’ve won
But Sorrow will come
To you in the end
And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain
So don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes
A man who slits throats
Has time on his hands
And I’m gonna get you
So don’t close your eyes
Don’t ever close your eyes
You think you’ve won
OH NO

Here‘s the music.

One of the first ever things I wrote on Plain Or Pan was about Morrissey‘s version of ‘Moon River’. Often since requested, I’ve decided to do my own bit of Reissue! Revalue! Repackage! by reproducing the original feature below…

morrissey hold on

Anyone with a reasonably good set of ears will know that ‘Vauxhall & I’ is by far Morrissey’s best solo work. Only just ahead of ‘Your Arsenal’, but much, much better than the over-rated ‘You Are The Quarry’ it is a classic of sorts. Released in 1994, the playing, the songwriting and the vocal delivery all come together on a near-perfect wee album. It kicks with the melancholic majesty of ‘Now My Heart Is Full’ and gets better as every new track comes in. The singles released from the album were all (in my head) number 1 smashes.

All (in reality) were not what could be called ‘chart botherers’. The first single ‘The More You Ignore Me’ went in at a respectable number 8. ‘Hold On To Your Friends’ did less well. Straight in at 47 before tumbling to 74 and off the radar forever. Which is where we come in. You see. On the b-side was Morrissey’s version of ‘Moon River’ All 9 minutes and 38 seconds of it. He croons! He swoons! He goes on a wee bit! But it’s magic. For a while, the inclusion of this track meant that ‘Hold On To Your Friends’ was a reasonably valuable Morrissey single to own. However, a quick trawl through eBay shows it is not quite as sought after as it once was. Nonetheless, your life is not complete until you’ve heard it. So here it is, in all it’s majestic glory.

Cover Versions, demo, Hard-to-find, Uncategorized

We’re Lost In Music. Caught In A Trap. I Quit…

Craig McAllister

I don’t quit. I merely quote you the lyrics of Sister Sledge. Bob Dylan holds them in such high regard he plays this track immediately before taking the stage each night on his never-ending tour. (ahem….cough….etc). Aye right.

previously-on-lost1

There’s a fine line between madness and genius and brilliance and shite, and I think I may have just (very belatedly) discovered the musical threshold by which an artist can cross over from one side to the other. I say ‘belatedly‘ because the following tracks have mostly been floating about the ether for a year or so and had I not been listening to Stuart Maconie’s Freak Zone on BBC 6 Music on Sunday night, they’d still be happily floating about the world wide web and I’d be none the wiser.

Just Wink

The Ballad of Sayid Jarrah

Be My Constant

The tracks in question have been recorded by Previously On Lost. As the advert says, it does just what it says on the tin. From Season 3 of ‘Lost‘ onwards, these 2 guys have written, recorded and released via their MySpace site a song a week, based on that week’s episode of Lost. Genius? Aye. The songs? Er….aye. It’s a bit Flight Of The Conchords, which is clearly no bad thing. In fact, that’s a very good thing, but I get the feeling these guys take themselves a wee bit too seriously. Anyway, their tracks vary in quality, length and genre on any given week. They pastiche doo-wop, Prince-style funk and any other genre you care to suggest. All played on the cheapest of Casio keyboards and plastic-sounding guitars and sung in the highest falsetto you could possibly achieve wearing skinny-fit cheapo Top Man jeans. If you’re a fan of Daniel Johnson or Ween they might be right up your street. Me? I love Flight Of The Conchords, but I think I prefer the real thing.

previously-on-lost-studio

Genius at work (?)

Let me know what you think. If you dig, feel free to go to the band’s website and buy Previously On Lost‘s new elpee, “The Tale of Season 4 and the Oceanic Six“. In the meantime, here‘s The Fall‘s version of Sister Sledge’s ‘Lost In Music’.

Le money il sur la table

Il money est sur la table

The palace of excess-uh  leads to the palace of access-uh!

Hiiiideawayyy!

What the fuck does that all mean? I mean, I can speak French and that, but what’s he on about? Make no mistake,  Mark E Smith is a true madness/genius threshold straddler.

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

Warts ‘n All

Craig McAllister

This one’s for Rockin’ Rik and anyone else who likes a good dose of old fashioned horn skronking juke-joint blues-soul. Eli Paperboy Reed came to my attention via his now legendary (in mine and Rik’s house at least) performance on Later with Jools Holland.

Pity he reminds me of that unfunny excuse for a ‘comedian‘, Jimmy Carr, but we can forgive him that, as Eli’s only gone and recorded a cover of Motorhead’s ‘Ace Of Spades‘. And put it out on vinyl! Go Eli!

eli-ace-7

The Good

Tight-as-you-know-what Stax horns, a vocal delivery that would give Otis Redding nightmares and a drum break that’s ripe for sampling. It’s a limited release, and quite hard to find due to the fact that your average high street has no decent record shops, so I’ve put it up for you here. It’s all the same to me…

eli-paperboy-reed

Listening to Eli doing ‘Ace Of Spades’ reminded me of a single I bought back in 1993. Corduroy were on the hipper-than-hip (though ultimately fashionably flash in the pan) Acid Jazz Records. They were formed from the ashes of long-forgotten late 80s mod hopefuls Boys Wonder. Dressed head to toe in polo necks, winkle pickers and, yes, brown corduroy, Anthony without assistance from any of his Johnsons could no doubt have given them a good kicking without too much sweat breaking.

motorhead

The Bad

For about 5 minutes in 1993 I thought they were the Next Big Thing, mostly due to this, their cover of Motorhead’s ‘Motorhead‘. I remember playing it to some big hairy guy when I worked in Our Price. ‘Fucking shite” was his straightforward appraisal. I think it’s a wee bit better than that, but not much. It’s no Jamiroquai (make of that what you will). Extra points for the polite guitar freak out half way through.

motorhead-girlschool

Which brings me on to the real deal. Yer actual Motorhead. Noisy. Fast. Loud. What’s not to like about that? Or this? Their cover of Johnny Kidd and the Pirate’s  ‘Please Don’t Touch’ (with Girlschool). Now that’s what I call a proper guitar solo. This mp3 is taken straight from an old crackly 7″. If you want super hi-fi stereo you know where to look!

lemmy

The Ugly