Category: Hard-to-find

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

Hard-to-find

For Every Bragg There’s A Bono

Craig McAllister

Mixing Pop and Politics He Asks Me What The Use Is. That’s a Billy Bragg line. From ‘Waiting For The Great Leap Forward‘. But you knew that already.

Mixing pop and politics always sits slightly uneasily with me. A bit rich coming from someone who loves the early work of Bob Dylan I know, not to mention the socio-soul of Curtis ‘n Marvin ‘n Stevie, The Specials and all of 2 Tone, the angry young Mr Weller (when I think about it, I could go on and on and on), but you’ve got to agree with me that while there are the earnest few who do so for the correct, compassionate reasons there are those who do it more for the ker-ching and the career. Aye Geldof. Perhaps even you. Pause.

End pause.

Phew. I half thought a bolt of lightning would flash outta the sky and knock me outta my new suede slippers there. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh aye, that’s right; for every Bragg there’s a Bono, for every Stevie a Sting.

Housemartins Mk1. Where’s FatBoy Slim?

I like the sound of records. Often I don’t actually listen to what the singer’s singing about. A bit rich coming from someone who loves the early work of etc etc blah blah blah, yes, but this would explain my love of the Cocteau Twins. When I was at school and Happy Hour came out I thought The Housemartins were just a slightly wacky guitar band with a clever grasp of melody and terrible taste in knitwear, no more and no less. Later in life I appreciated Paul Heaton’s biting sattire on some of The Beautiful South’s material (even the band’s name had political undertones, I got that), but I never really had his first band down as being overtly political. All that changed (I’m embarrassed to admit) only 2 months ago. Flag Day, from The Housemartin’s London 0, Hull 4 LP popped up whilst the iPod was on shuffle and oh! The penny dropped. Flag Day in 1986 was far too slow for this 16 year old. It was nothing like Happy Hour or Anxious or We’re Not Deep or any other of those 4 chord toe tappers. It broke the flow of what was a jaunty wee album up until that point and although I’d never get up and move the needle onto the next track, I doubt I actually properly listened to it more than once. Fast forward 25 or so years and it’s quite clear; The Housemartins were a slightly wacky guitar band with a clever grasp of melody, terrible taste in knitwear and a terrific way with words.

Too many Florence Nightingales
Not enough Robin Hoods
Too many halos not enough heroes
Coming up with the goods
So you though you’d like to change the world
Decided to stage a jumble sale
For the poor, for the poor

It’s a waste of time if you know what they mean
Try shaking a box in front of the Queen
’cause her purse is fat and bursting at the seams
It’s a waste of time if you know what they mean

Too many hands in too many pockets
Not enough hands on hearts
Too many ready to call it a day
Before the day starts
So you thought you’d like to see them healed
Got Blue Peter to stage an appeal
For the poor, for the poor

It’s a waste of time if you know what they mean
Try shaking a box in front of the Queen
’cause her purse is fat and bursting at the seams
It’s a waste of time if you know what they mean

Flag day, flag day, flag day.

How good is that? Paul Heaton isn’t that much older than me and here he was writing acidic commentaries on modern society. It could’ve been written yesterday, it’s that relevant today. Flag Day is lo-fi gospel, all chunky piano chords and sincere white boy vocals. Nothing much like the rest of the debut album and perhaps then a bizzare choice for a first single. It barely scraped the top 150. Later on, The Housemartins would do garage gospel again and take it all the way to the top. Christian Socialists at the Christmas number 1, if memory serves me correctly. Or did Reet Petite beat it? It seems a long way away these days.

The Music:

Flag Day (original single mix)

Flag Day (LP version)

Tune in next week as I discover the real meaning behind the tracks on This Is The Story by everyone’s favourite Caledonian Calvinists, The Proclaimers.

Housemartins Mk2. There’s the FatBoy! And the axe wielding maniac.

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:

Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

Keeping It Peel 2011

Craig McAllister

Keeping It Peel, eh? A worthy and admirable affair since you’re askin’. Click on the face of the great man just over there on the right to find out more.

Late 80s/Early 90s music in the UK was a strange place to be. The Smiths were long gone but still on everyone’s lips and Morrissey was trying to carve out a solo career and somewhat failing (the lukewarm Kill Uncle limping behind the giddy thrill of Viva Hate). New boys on the pedestal, The Stone Roses (whatever happened to them?), were on extended hiatus and the charts were full of 2nd rate Roses-inspired trash that was supposed to keep us entertained till they pulled on their Joe Bloggs and got down to business again. Happy Mondays were self-imploding on a cocktail of every conceivable drug. Bridewell Taxis? Naw! Chapterhouse? Naw! Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine? Naw! Naw! and Naw! Hairstyles started creeping downwards and greasy globs of lumpen grebo clogged up yer actual pop charts – Neds Atomic Dustbin, Wonderstuff, PWEI. Looking for a fix I turned to The House of Love and posh boys Ride. Both were very traditional 4 piece bands with all the right reference points and songs coated in all manner of guitar effects, but whereas House of Love used their pedals subtely to enhance their songs, Ride used them to disguise their shortcomings as musicians and singers. Flange. Chorus. Delay. Wah-wah. Turbo Distortion. Throw them all at the verse. Add a bit of Phaser to the chorus. Extra Delay in the middle eight and, voila, music for the kids. Being 19/20 years old, I loved them.

In a hazy blur of stripey t-shirts, girly fringes and expensive guitars, Ride thrashed their way fantastically through their first couple of EPs and debut album. With 2 singing guitarists (how very 60s!) and token silent moody bass player, the secret to their success was Lawrence on drums. A seemingly 8-armed whirlwind of Moonisms, right down to the target t-shirt, he was always the one to watch whenever they played live. First time I saw them, in the old Mayfair (now Garage) in Glasgow, the tall brothers walked in and stood right in front of me just as the band took the stage. I have a vivid memory of watching Lawrence thrash at his drums in the mirrors on the wall. I also remember trying to work out the chords Andy Bell was playing during Chelsea Girl, but, given that I was watching in mirror image, I couldn’t work it out. Damn those 2 Joey Ramone lookalikes.


Ride recorded a couple of sessions for John Peel. Their first from February 1992 is my favourite. In the spirit of all the great Peel Sessions, this session featured new stuff and a cover – 3 tracks from their not yet released second and third EPs plus a cover of a Pale Saints song – the joke being that Ride claimed to dislike Pale Saints, although their version of Sight Of You is pretty faithful to the original. Opening track Like a Daydream is sadly minus the backwards fade-in cymbal rush that introduces the EP2 version, but fairly clatters along in a rush of boyish off-kilter harmonies and masses of bravado. Great machine gun drums too, of course.  Perfect Time (also from EP2) is awash with a combination of chiming 12 string guitars and fuzzed out Fender Jags. Did someone mention Shoegaze? Shoegaze was never this slow, though. You want slow? Dreams Burn Down featured on both EP3 and the album, but on the Peel Session is stretched out to 6 and a half minutes of tremelo ‘n feedback and ‘she doesn’t love me anymore’ angsty lyrics. I thought this might’ve sounded dated 20 years on, but, nope, it still sounds mighty fine to these ears. Dreams Burn Down was always a favourite of Andy Bell, as he said in April this year:

“What can I say? It’s a great tune. It’s about the end of an affair — the end of a relationship. Kind of a typical, teenage reaction. I remember it became massive when the band started playing it. It was written as a pretty straightforward sound, but I remember the rehearsal when we first played it — we decided to go with this noise kind of thing. The noise emphasized certain parts of the lyrics, and that really worked and it was fantastic. Lawrence plays a massive drumbeat on it that actually Coldplay ripped off. I don’t know if that’s actually true or not.”

And he gave all that up! To play bass! In MKII (or was it MKIII?) Oasis! The fool.

The music:

Like A Daydream

Dreams Burn Down

Perfect Time

The Sight Of You

*Bonus Tracks!

Here‘s the EP2 version of Like A Daydream, backwards cymbals ‘n all.

And here‘s Pale Saints‘ original version of The Sight Of You.

The beginning of the end I’d imagine.

Hard-to-find, Six Of The Best, studio outtakes

Six Of The Best – Craig Gannon

Craig McAllister

Six Of The Best is a semi-regular feature that pokes, prods and persuades your favourite bands, bards and barometers of hip opinion to tell us six of the best tracks they’ve ever heard. The tracks could be mainstream million-sellers or they could be obfuscatingly obscure, it doesn’t matter. The only criteria set is that, aye, they must be Six of the Best. Think of it like a mini, groovier version of Desert Island Discs…

Number 9 in a series:

Craig Gannon is, to use that much clichéd phrase, a musicians’ musician. Any band looking for some understated yet majestic, melodic guitar playing could do worse than turn to Craig for inspiration. His CV reads like a Who’s Who of left-of-centre British rock acts since the mid 80’s – he’s been the perfect foil for Aztec Camera and Roddy Frame, The Bluebells, The Adult Net, The Colourfield and much of Terry Hall’s ‘solo’ material.

He’s perhaps most famous for being (briefly) the fifth Smith, hired when Andy Rourke’s drug problems led to him being ousted from the band and, on his return, being given the role of 2nd guitar. Craig played on much of The Smiths’ vital output from 1986 – the Panic and Ask singles, London, Half A Person, You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet Baby (the best Smiths non-single ever, surely?) and although asked to leave The Smiths in confusing circumstances, was considered vital enough to be asked back into the Morrissey fold, playing Last Of The Famous International Playboys on Top Of The Pops and as part of a pseudo-Smiths line-up when the old nipple flasher played his first solo show in Wolverhampton at the end of 1988. All this was happening whilst behind the scenes legal proceedings were underway to sue Morrissey and Marr for unpaid royalties relating to the afore-mentioned tracks. For a while it looked like Morrissey was considering him as his main writing partner, but being a man of principle, Craig wouldn’t drop the court case and, well, that was the end of that.

This was very much Terry Hall’s gain. Craig worked extensively with Hall throughout much of the 90’s and his guitar work on Hall’s solo albums Home and Laugh manages the trick of being both uplifting yet melancholic, with added fancy pants chords to boot. To these ears, both albums have the air of the undiscovered classic, and still hold up to repeated plays today. If you’re unfamiliar with them have a listen to the Forever J single, from Home. You’d like it. Craig has fond memories of working on these albums.

“The track I’m most proud of having played on would probably be a song called Take It Forever on Terry Hall’s second solo album which myself and Terry co – wrote. I rarely listen to records I’ve played on over the years but I still like the guitars on that. An obviously higher profile track would be Panic by The Smiths as I’m proud of my guitar playing on that.”

These days you can still hear Craig playing, though you might not realise it. His subtle playing is perfect soundtrack material for a whole host of TV and cinema productions – incidental music on Eastenders and A Question Of Sport amongst many others, and he doesn’t appear to miss the thrill of what you or I might refer to as ‘the music scene‘.

“I now make my living as a composer rather than a guitarist which is exactly how I like it and at the moment I’m just in the middle of writing the score for a film called R/Evolution which looks at the revolution in human consciousness. It includes contributions from Forest Whitaker amongst others and is narrated by Richard Olivier. The film was been shot around the world over most of this year and I’m writing a contemporary orchestral score which incorporates various ethnic and world music styles.”

Craig’s Six Of The Best is, I think, one of the best we’ve had yet and a good indication of the influences that seep into his guitar playing:

Walk On By – Burt Bacharach.

One of Bacharach’s most simple songs which in this case proves that simple can be good, although that’s not always the case. I first got into Burt Bacharach when I was about 14 and it was probably this song that started it. A great intimate feel and a never bettered vocal by Dionne Warwick this also has trademark Bacharach flugelhorn phrases. The Stranglers did a great cover of this track which I also love but this is perfect.

Alone Again Or – Love

I first got into Love in 1983 through Roddy Frame who used to play this all the time. This song is off one of my all time favourite albums ‘Forever Changes’ and was written by Bryan Maclean rather than the usual Love songwriter Arthur Lee. It’s probably the most accessible track on an album which includes some pretty weird late 60’s psychedelia. It starts with a great acoustic guitar arpeggio pattern joined by strings and then into an inspired mariachi style trumpet solo. Love also did some rubbish but ‘Forever Changes’ is one of the best albums of all time in my opinion.

The Long And Winding Road – The Beatles.

Growing up in the seventies I was always listening to The Beatles and I’m still amazed at how brilliant they often were and they had everything including two brilliant songwriters, great image, personality and chemistry etc. I could have picked loads of favourite Beatles songs but this is just one example of what an incredible songwriter McCartney was. Great chords, a poignant melody and a hugely emotional vocal. John Lennon played the bass on this and you can hear him fluffing all over the place but that doesn’t take anything away from it. The originally released version has choir and orchestra overdubbed by Phil Spector which apparently McCartney hated. One of many fantastic songs from the best band the world has ever seen.

Theme from Once Upon a Time In America – Ennio Morricone.

Written by one of my all time favourite film composers this is one of many works of genius he composed and it never fails to get me choked up every time I hear it. Knowing it so well from the film originally it evokes feelings of innocence, lost friendship and nostalgia. About a year after I first saw the film I was lay on the beach in St Petersburg Florida in the same spot De Niro and James Woods filmed one of the scenes in the film and I listened to the score on headphones…..the whole score is amazing.

Let Him Run Wild – Beach Boys.

I got into the Beach Boys quite late really, probably in my mid – twenties as before that whenever I heard the name ‘Beach Boys’ I always thought of ‘Surfin USA’ etc until I heard the album ‘Summer Days and Summer Nights’ and the masterpiece ‘Pet Sounds’. ‘Let Him Run Wild’ has everything you expect from Brian Wilson including great harmonies, catchy bass line and the best part for me Brian’s beautiful lead vocal, he had such a fantastic voice. This song was a taste of things to come with ‘Pet Sounds’.

The Girl With The Sun In Her Hair – John Barry

Loads of times in the Seventies I’d be watching TV and hear a great TV or film theme and a lot of the time it turned out to be by John Barry. Growing up on the Sean Connery Bond films I always loved the music although John Barry has written loads of great music for non – Bond films. ‘The Girl With The Sun In Her Hair’ was actually written for a Sunsilk advert in the late Sixties and you can hear that unmistakeable Barry sound, it could almost have been another Bond theme. Every composer ‘borrows’ occasionally and it sounds like John Barry ‘borrowed’ from Ravel’s ‘Introduction & Allegro’ for this piece.

Now, that’s what I call music! Every Six Of the Best compilation comes in a handy RAR download file. Get Craig Gannon’s here.

*Bonus Track!

Here‘s The Long And Winding Road, stripped of Spector’s syrupy strings and all its Mantovani mush. Essentially a McCartney demo and all the better for it.

Coming next in this series –

Six Of the Best from a worldwide singing sensation (TBC)

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

Hard-to-find

Salford Fads Club

Craig McAllister

Next week sees Rhino’s much anticipated release of The Smiths‘ back catalogue, tantalisingly remastered by Johnny Marr and available in any number of combinations, including a lottery winner’s wet dream of a vinyl ‘n CD box set. Old Morrissey’s disowned them already, but what does he know? You really should start sweetening up your other half. Tell them they’ve lost weight, or that that new haircut really takes the years off or…..you get the idea…..if you want one of these babies, you’re gonna have to do a lot of grovelling.

In preparation for my much more recession-friendly purchase arriving (and the fact that Craig Gannon is dropping by any day now with his Six of the Best), The Smiths have been on something of a heavy rotation round here. While The Queen Is Dead usually steals the headlines in any ‘Best Smiths Albums‘ polls, most folk would put the smart money on that particular accolade going to Strangeways, Here We Come, the band’s swansong recorded in (and on) good spirits while Smithdom collapsed around all 4 members like a quiff in the rain.

John Peel said something at the start of The Smiths perfectly-formed lifespan akin to the fact that you couldn’t tell who The Smiths had been listening to. There were no obvious Velvet Underground/Beatles/Van der Graaf Generator influences, that The Smiths arrived fully formed with a sound of their own. This may have been true on their first couple of records, but by the time they’d hit their stride, any number of influences were creeping in. Terrific as it is, you need only listen to the first 30 glam-stomping seconds of Panic back-to-back with T Rex‘s Metal Guru to recognise the chord progression, slide guitar and general hysterical rush to appreciate what Morrissey and Marr were listening to that particular day. (The ‘Hang The DJ‘ refrain came about after Steve Wright In The Afternoon, In The Afternoon! played Wham’s I’m Your Man straight after the news broke about the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. But I digress…)

“There’s so much buried in the past to steal from, one’s resources are limitless.” (Morrissey, interviewed in The Face, 1984).

By the time of Strangeways…., The Smiths’ influences had become much subtler. Johnny wanted to write a classic album in the vein of The Beatles’ The Beatles (“The White Album” dontchaknow), an album that was instantly recognisable as being by The Beatles, yet not in an obvious way. While Lennon, McCartney and especially Harrison broke free from what they felt were the constraints of Beatledom via a combination of pastoral fingerpickings and essentially solo recordings, Johnny Marr took the much more daring (and ultimately more rewarding) route of composing songs on instruments other than guitar. Across the album you’ll find autoharp, saxophone, traces of synthesized strings and that most anti of Smiths instruments, the drum machine. Listen closely and you’ll spot them all. Opening track A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours is a terrific piano-led stomper, augmented by vibesy percussion and the sort of arrangement that would have Chas Smash doing the nutty dance at the drop of a pork pie hat. And not a guitar in sight! Which brings us to Reparata & The Delrons 1975 obscurity ‘Shoes‘, which sounds like the sort of bazouki-led Greek goose-step that would’ve been foisted upon us during an era when Eurovision still meant something. All staccato rhythms and slightly stilted foreign accents, it was a huge favourite of Morrissey’s and Marr’s during the recording of Strangeways. Not surprising really once you’ve played it back-to-back with that jaunty opening track…….

And another thing…

To be fair, Johnny makes no secret of his love for Metal Guru, including it on his Dansette Delights compilation here.

This was Morrissey’s preferred image for the cover of Strangeways, until Harvey Keitel refused permission.

Man, The Smiths were just about perfect, eh?

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

Notebooks Out, Plagiarists!

Craig McAllister

The Wisdom of MES #1:

He told me I didn’t understand, that we were from the bleak industrial wastes of North England, or something, and that we didn’t understand the Internet. I told him Fall fans invented the Internet. They were on there in 1982.

The Fall. Two short words. One long career. They’re a bit like whisky. You’ve been told it’s good and you want to like it, but on the first coupla tries it doesn’t go down well, sticks in the throat, comes back on you with a vengeance. Then, a wee bit older, more wordly-wise and mature and you realise, hey! This stuff’s great! It’s for every occasion, much better after dark, much better alone than shared. Ease your way into it gently then go for it. If you’re new to it, there’s a lot of catching up to be done. It’s been 35 years and 28 LPs or something like that. 28 LPs! And that’s not counting the multitude of ex label cash ins, compilations and crappy semi official bootlegs. Those 28 studio LPs, they can’t all be good though, eh? Yeah, some of them are better than that. Excellent you might even say. This Nation’s Saving Grace. Live At The Witch Trials. Hex Induction Hour. I could go on, but you know them all and you’ll all have your own personal favourites. (Extricate, since you’re askin’). Band members play on a seemingly shoogly, constantly moving conveyor belt. In The Fall, yer number can be up at any moment. Mark E Smith changes rhythm sections the way most of us change our socks. Play Dead Beat Descendent the wrong way and it’s curtains-ah! Play Dead Beat Descendent the right way and it’s curtains-ah! But you knew that already.

The Wisdom of MES #2:

If it’s me and your granny on bongos, it’s The Fall.

Check the record, check the record, check the guy’s track record!

I’ve always liked The Fall for having the gumption to tackle other folks material, regardless of how hip or otherwise it may appear to those watching from the outside. A quick poke about the internet will reward you with an excellent compilation of assorted cover versions that they’ve tackled in their own rattlin’, shoutin’ way. Lee Perry. The Kinks. Sister Sledge. The Searchers. Any number of garage band and rockabilly ramalamas. It doesn’t matter who’s being covered, they all end up sounding like The Fall. Which got me thinking. Can anyone ‘do’ The Fall? The Fall do loads of other bands, but have any bands done The Fall. Well…………Apparently not. There are precious few attempts at covering Fall songs. However….

Sonic Youth, pre-conceived too-cool-for-school detuned pretentious art-rockers that they are did a whole Peel Session of Fall tracks in 1988, and their version of Rowche Rumble is bloody marvellous. A right wiry tub-thumper, it keeps those ‘Ksch Ksch‘ vocals in and dresses the whole thing up in a wall of  skronking Jazzmaster guitar. (Adopts noo yoik accent) It’s like art, but it’s like, rock at the same time.

The Wisdom of MES #3:

When they start saying they like the Fall, it’s usually that they’ve run out of ideas. You remember Wet Wet Wet saying that, you know, ‘we wanna concentrate on doing our own stuff, a bit like The Fall’. It’s like, ‘shut the fuck up!’, you know.

Enter Pavement. They based most of their career sounding like The Fall, at least they did for those first coupla albums. Total rip off? Cute fanboy homage? It’s hard to tell. Anyway you look at it, they even had the nerve to do The Fall in a Peel Session, tackling The Classical with reserved jangle and polite (polite!) Hey There Fuckface vocals ‘n all. Sadly, nothing much like the pummeling, frantic original at all.

The Wisdom of MES #4:

Listening to Pavement, it’s just The Fall in 1985, isn’t it? They haven’t got an original idea in their heads.

*Bonus Tracks!

Contrast and compare with the original and best:

The Fall – Rowche Rumble

The Fall – The Classical

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

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, studio outtakes

Les Coups Différents Pour Les Gens Différents

Craig McAllister

Ahem. Excusé moi…….

C’est Sly! Le Chat de Hep d’années soixante-dix mettre au point d’âme de banlieue son produit dans le studio tout comme la Famille Pierre partait. Vous reconnaîtrez que quatre au battement de tambour de plancher, la basse de duvet de frugtastic et ces super-glissant psychédélique remplissent sur la guitare. Vous pouvez reconnaître même l’air. Ce n’est que la Danse A La Musique, mes frères et mes soeurs ! En français ! La Famille « dum-duh, dum-dum-duh duh » les choeurs sont juste aussi indignes que la coiffure afro sur la tête de la Soeur Rose, l’air tout comme l’anneau-un-ding sauvage comme les 22″ fonds de cloche sur les jambes de Freddie. Enregistré comme French Fries au lieu de Sly et la Famille Pierre, il pose dans les coffre-forts pour les âges, non aimés, non découverts et incroyablement branchés. La face b est appelée Small Fries, le genre de r › la frousse-âme avec ces tromperie de studio de fausset fausse vocale qui a fait Prince s’assied sur et écoute quand il enregistrait If I Was Your Girlfriend.Vous creuse ?

La Musique:

Danse A La Musique

Small Fries

La traduction ici. Les excuses énormes à tous mes amis français pour tenter d’écrire dans français d’écolier! Il n’arrivera jamais encore!

Fin