Category: Gone but not forgotten

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

What does Snoop Dogg use to dye his hair?

Craig McAllister

Bleeeeeeaaaaaach.

I’m from Ayrshire. I can’t pretend to understand the gangsta leanings of Cribs ‘n Bloods ‘n West Coast v’s East Coast. Not that that stopped every two-bit Burberry ned who ever stole from the music shop I once worked in. The 2 Pac posters were just about the most shoplifted items there. Them and the M People CDs, bizarrely enough. “Goat oaney Floyd, man?” someone would ponder in your general direction. And as you did your best to be civil towards them, his pal would be lining the sleeves of his puffa jacket with select pre-ordered images from the poster stand. Ask Marvin from The Scheme and he’ll confirm it. The hash leaf poster of 2 Pac with his pecs ‘n guns ‘n bling bling chains must’ve been on half the walls of Kilmarnock. The ‘Take Me To Your Dealer‘ one with the day-glo alien was no doubt on the other half. But anyway.

2 Pac. Made one terrific record. California Love. It was his comeback single after being released from jail in 1995, after poppin’ a cap in yo’ ass (or something). Packed full of vocodered vocals, sampled ‘n looped trumpets, 80s analogue synths and thumping bass, it is, in short, Dr Dre’s G Funk personified. As is nearly always the way with such tracks, it arrived fully formed and was jigsawed together by the rather clever Dre from an assortment of obscure and under-appreciated funk and soul gems. By no means an exhaustive list, if you listen to the tracks below, you might get a better idea of how the good Dr mixed the given ingredients into the California Love cake.

Ronnie Hudson‘s West Coast Poplock is old school funk. Vintage 1982 to be exact. So not that old school, really, but it‘s the sort of old school funk that once could make Prince strive to make decent records. I bloody love it. It’s the basis of the lyrical content of 2 Pac’s track and is itself fairly redolent of Booker T and the MGs Boot-Leg.

Joe Cocker‘s Woman To Woman features the rolling, staccato piano riff and horn riff that plays throughout the 2 Pac record. It has, I should point out, also been sampled by Moby and Ultramagnetic MCs amongst others. You’d think there’d be enough sampleable tracks out there without everyone using the same bits, eh?

Zapp and Roger Troutman‘s (also sometimes known as Zapp and Roger, or the Zapp Band or just plain old Zapp) Dance Floor provides the authentic electro backing and Chic-esque rinky-dink guitar riff. And the vocodered vocals. And the groove. Once again, it‘s exactly the sort of record that Prince was carefully taking notes from whilst building his 80s back catalogue.

See? That Dr Dre’s no’ that guid really. A couple of heart-attack inducing bass bins, a decent record collection and a good ear for glueing the right bits together in the right places. Ker-ching. It’s dead easy when you think about it. Now. Where did I put that Fat Larry’s Band 12″?

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

Song To The Siren Triple Whammy

Craig McAllister

Song To The Siren was originally released on Tim Buckley‘s near-mythical Starsailor album. Long-since unavailable on CD, if you don’t have it you can buy it these days on iTunes. I think a re-issued vinyl made a fleeting re-appearance a couple of years ago before burying its head once again in the sands of time. Or you can read to the bottom and see what turns up…

There are two schools of thought surrounding the Starsailor LP. On one hand it’s considered a bit out-there and genius-like. On the other hand, it could just as easily be described as unlistenable, noodling avant-jazz-folk-funk. You’ll have your own thoughts on the matter I’m sure.  Song To The Siren cuts through all of this by virtue of it being an old song by the time Buckley got around to cutting Starsailor. It’s moody and melancholic and features the trampoline-voiced Buckley switching back and forwards from baritone bass to fabulous falsetto, much like Buckley Jr (proving, I suppose, that young Jeff was merely a more angelic chip off the old block). Not avant-anything at all, it’s got some terrific atmospheric guitar going on just below those stellar vocals. If you haven’t heard it you’re in for a treat.

*link removed by The Man

Back in the 80s, standing proudly alone and not at all drowning amongst the flotsam and jetsom of the pop fodder du jour was This Mortal Coil‘s version. Essentially a Cocteau Twins’ track (Liz ‘n Robin ‘n nobody else played on it) their version of Song To The Siren took the Buckley blueprint, added some distinctive Cocteau’s swirling effect-laden guitar and topped it off with the weirdest, wonkiest and most crystal-clear vocals this teenager had ever heard. It took me about 14 years to like it, in all honesty. The cloth-eared fool that I am.

Ivo Watts-Russell, 4AD co-founder and brains behind the This Mortal Coil projects recalled the recording of Song To The Siren in a recent issue of Mojo.

I asked Liz if she’d sing Song To The Siren a cappella. Liz never went anywhere without Robin, so he came along. I couldn’t think what to do between the verses, so Robin, reluctantly, put on his guitar, found a sound, lent against a wall, bored as anything, and played it once. Three hours later, it was finished. I still tried to think of how to remove the guitar, but I couldn’t get away from that swimming atmosphere, which is a tribute to Robin’s genius.

Interestingly, Liz Fraser hated her vocal and Robin Guthrie is mightily peeved that no royalties have ever been forthcoming. In a flash of serendipity, Fraser would later go on to have a relationship with Buckley Jr, but that’s mere tittle-tattle and has no place in a family-friendly blog such as Plain Or Pan…

*link removed by The Man

Before he was releasing critic-unifying Albums of the Year, John Grant was the singer with The Czars. I’ve written about him before, in a told-you-so sort of piece, just before his Queen of Denmark LP stole everyone’s thunder in the music inkies round-up of what was hot and not last year. The Czars released half a dozen LPs to general indifference throughout the mid 90s and early 00s. I was a total fan. Possibly their only one. In another weird twist of serendipity, they were encouraged to magnetise their version of Song To The Siren by their A&R man, former Cocteau Simon Raymonde. Their’s is an almost 8-minute long blissed-out version, understated slide guitar, tinkling piano, gently beaten toms and John ‘s perfect vocals occupying the space left in the sky between Buckley’s soaring mood piece and Fraser’s cooing angel breath. Or something like that. I think you’ll like it…

*link removed by The Man

Tim Buckley‘s fabled Starsailor LP, anyone? Click the cover….

*link removed by The Man

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

I Got 5 Years Stuck On My Eyes

Craig McAllister

I got 5 years, what a surprise! ‘Five Years‘, Bowie’s opening track on the Ziggy album ends with that afore-mentioned refrain. But you knew that already. You might also know that Plain Or Pan has now been going for 5 years. Or you might not. Either way, thanks for visiting time and time again. Whether you’re one of the few who choose to ‘follow this blog’ or you’re one of those misguided creeps who ended up here via Google after searching for ‘Teenage Fanny‘ and got the Bellshill Beach Boys instead, those visits (and the numbers they register behind the scenes in the Plain Or Pan office) are what keeps me a-writin’ and researchin’. Not as often as I’d like to, but as someone commented some time ago, “One good post a week is better than 7 posts of shite.” I might be paraphrasing there, but you get the idea.

As is now customary at this time of year, my team of office monkeys gather up all statistical information made available to them and compile a couple of CDs worth of the year’s most popular downloaded tracks and painstakingly create a groovy cover that goes with it. This is not a quick process. Hours are spent refining and re-refining running orders. At least 14 different covers are produced before a carefully-selected random sample of Plain Or Pan’s target audience (that’s you, that is) choose the cover that speaks most to them. This year is slightly different. The office monkeys have gone on strike (they mumbled something about pensions) and time is at a premium (ie, I don’t have any). The tracks, 2 CDs worth are here. The artwork, not your normal CD cover, more of an image that you can use as cover art in iTunes or however you listen to music on your computer, is there, above this paragraph (right click, save as etc etc). The tracklist? I don’t have one. This year you can choose your own running order from the following:

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John Barry – Midnight Cowboy

King Creosote – Home In A Sentence

The Smiths – How Soon Is Now? (Rare Italian pressing)

Gruff Rhys – Shark Ridden Waters, which samples….

The Cyrkle – It Doesn’t Matter Anymore

Midlake – Branches

Elliott Smith – Alameda

Peter Salett – Sunshine

Mott The Hoople – Walking With A Mountain

Primal Scream – Jailbird (Kris Needs’ Toxic Trio Stay free mix)

Primal Scream & PP Arnold – Understanding (Small Faces cover)

Ride – Like A Daydream

The Wildebeests – That Man (Small Faces cover)

Dion – The Dolphins (Tim Buckley cover)

Darondo – Didn’t I

Edwin Starr – Movin’ On Up (Primal Scream cover)

Shellac – My Black Ass

The Rivingtons – Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow (the building blocks of Surfin Bird)

The Survivors – Pamela Jean (Brian Wilson recording)

The Heavy – How You Like Me Now? which heavily ‘borrows’ from…

Dyke & The Blazers – Let A Woman Be A Woman (Let A Man Be A Man)

The La’s – Come In Come Out (John Leckie mix)

The Girlfriends – My One And Only Jimmy Boy

The Whyte Boots – Nightmare

James Brown & the Famous Flames –I’ll Go Crazy

The Jim Jones Revue – Hey Hey Hey Hey, cover of….

Little Richard – Hey Hey Hey Hey (false start take)

Suede – The Wild Ones (unedited version)

Lee Dorsey – Holy Cow

Fern Kinney – Groove Me

Aretha Franklin – Rock Steady (alt mix)

Jackson 5 –  I Want You Back (Michael’s isolated vocal – dynamite!!!)

Reparta & the Delrons – Shoes (the inspiration for The Smiths’ A Rush And A Push…)

Dusty Springfield – Spooky

She & Him – Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want (Smiths cover)

John Barry – The Girl With The Sun In Her Hair

A fairly representative selection of what Plain Or Pan is all about, you might agree. In other words, a right rum bag of forgotten classics and demos and cover versions and alternative takes and studio outtakes and the rest of it. Outdated Music For Outdated People right enough.

Missed any of these legendary compilations?

Here‘s the first 2 years, 2007 & 2008

Here‘s 2009’s

Here‘s 2010’s

Download ’til yer heart’s content!

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

The Ghosts Of Christmas Past

Craig McAllister

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.

Dylanish, elliott smith, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, studio outtakes

I’m So Sick Of Snow Patrol-ah!

Craig McAllister

When people discover that I’m into music in a big way they will ask the inevitable question, “What music do you like then?” My standard glib and non-commital reply has always been, “Oh you know, anything released before 1986,” which, on the one hand tells you nothing, but on the other hand tells you everything you need to know. Why get into the present when there’s so much from the past just waiting to be discovered? Of course, just to be contrary, I’m very much into the present. Two albums currently on heavy rotation (do iPods rotate?) are Skying by The Horrors and Ersartz G.B. by The Fall. Both current, both new, yet crucially both steeped in a wide variety of pre-86 reference points. The Horrors album seems to have taken early Psychedelic Furs and the pre-pomp Simple Minds as its year zero. But that description doesn’t do it justice at all. Full-on, relentless and played by musicians at the top of their game, The Horrors would be my band of choice if I was 17 and had the waist size for skinny black jeans and the gall to wear pointy boots in public. Spotify it then buy it. And that’s an order.

The current version of The Fall are brilliant – tight, taut and tense with seemingly their leader’s approval to, like, get down. The album is all Sabbath riffs and rockabilly rhythms, wonky keyboards and slabs of cement basslines. On some tracks, Mark Smith sounds like an angry dog attacking an old slipper (eg the lyric that healines this piece). On the rest he sounds like a demented Dalek on downers. This may just be the best Fall LP since Extricate. It’s that good. In fact, if this album and The Horrors one aren’t in the Top 5 of any of those Best Albums of the Year lists that should be appearing any day now, I’ll turn my copy of Telephone Thing into a trendy ashtray and smoke myself silly.

Photo ‘borrowed’ from Flybutter via Flickr. Ta!

Another current obsession is Elliott Smith. I’ve written much about him in the past (use the ‘search‘ box on the side there). I love Elliott and return to him time and time again. This week I have been mostly obsessing over Alameda, from his Either/Or LP. It’s not just the way he practically whispers the lyric. Or the ghostly harmonising backing vocals. And it’s not just the way he sounds like he plays guitar with 10 fingers. On each hand. Nope. It’s the way (muso alert! muso alert!) the song goes from monochrome misery into a burst of technicolour joy over a pair of E flat and G minor chords. “For your own protection over their affection, nobody broke your heart. You broke your own…” Majestic is the word I’m looking for. My Christmas holiday task is to master this song on the guitar. Easy chords but a difficult picking arrangement. Pop round at New Year to hear me murder it if you fancy.

Here y’are:

Alameda (Either/Or)

Alameda (Alt. Lyrics)

Alameda (Live WMUC circa June/July 1997)

Oh aye. Is it snowing on your desktop too? Nothing to do with me….

UPDATED AUGUST 2012….UPDATED AUGUST 2012….UPDATED AUGUST 2012

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

Brown Sugar, How Come You Taste So Good?

Craig McAllister

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:

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

The Kids Are Alright

Craig McAllister

When is it that the arrogance of youth takes flight, mortality strikes and reality bites? Some folk get depressed over milestone birthdays – the 21st, the 30th. Many of my friends are currently agonising over turning 40. That wasn’t a problem to me. The day I turned 27 was my biggy. That was the day I realised I’d never play football for Scotland. Truth be told, I knew from the age of 14 12 10 eh, make that 8 that I’d never play for Scotland, but We Have A Dream and all that.

(statisticians note, not my card!)

I had boxes and folders and albums stuffed full of football cards. Like many of my peers my hero was Kenny Dalglish, the swashbuckling, freescoring King of The Kop. I wasn’t a Liverpool supporter, but Kenny played for Scotland more times than anyone else and he was my idol. We even celebrated his birthday in my house (March 4th, if you want to know). A few years ago when moving house I found all those cards again and amongst them was the celebrated King Kenny card, both arms aloft in victory salute, red socks rolled to the ankles, the boyish smile atop the dark blue of Scotland with a rainy Hampden Park in the background. Aye. Boyish smile. Turning the card over broke me into a cold sweat. Kenny Dalglish. Age 27. Clubs: Celtic, Liverpool. Scottish appearances: 59. International goals: 20. Age 27. 27! He’d done all this by the age of 27! I hadn’t. Nor was I likely to.

It’s the same with music. Actually, it’s probably worse (or better, depending on how you view these things when considering your own contribution to the world.) Johnny Marr had done it all with The Smiths and split them up by the time he’d reached the ripe old age of 24. And when written down like that, I realise he isn’t that much older than me. Booker T Jones was only 17 when he recorded Green Onions with the MGs. 17! Seven-teen! The Boy Wonder himself, Sir Roddy of Frame turned up at a recording studio not far from where I’m currently typing at the age of 15 and, as the engineer himself told me a few years later, “blew everyone away, the wee fucker.”  ‘Little’ Stevie Wonder was practically a veteran of the Motown studios by the time he’d reached double figures. You could say the same about Michael Jackson, with his dance moves copped from James Brown and his wee unbroken vocal yelps the icing to his big brothers’ sugar sweet soul.

There are tons more….a 20 year old Steve Winwood vamping on Voodoo Chile with Jimi Hendrix, 19 year old Paul Weller releasing In The City, George Harrison being sent home from the Hamburg-era Beatles for being too young. Feel free to add to the list here…

It’s no’ fair, eh? Listen and weep old folks, listen and weep….

Michael Jackson‘s isolated vocal track on I Want You Back. Released when Michael was 11 years old.

Stevie Wonder‘s isolated vocal track on Uptight (Everything’s Alright). Released when Stevie was 16 years old.

Aztec Camera‘s debut single on Postcard Records (of course!) – A) Just Like Gold B) We Could Send Letters, released when Roddy was 16 years old. The wee fucker indeed.

The Sound of Young, young, Scotland.

Campbell Owens ‘n Roddy Frame ‘n Aztec Camera in 1983

Cover Versions, Gone but not forgotten, studio outtakes

Redding Festival

Craig McAllister

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, Gone but not forgotten

Puir Amy

Craig McAllister

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, Gone but not forgotten, studio outtakes

Hey Hey Hey Hey Double Whammy

Craig McAllister

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 here‘s 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!