Category: Hard-to-find

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

Sum Songs

Craig McAllister

Regular readers here will know that I’m somewhat a fan of Elliott Smith. I’ve posted various bits and pieces of his before. Equal parts downbeat alt. folk mumbler and upbeat Beatles-obsessed melodic genius, I could listen to Elliott all day. Stuck at the end of the Son Of Sam single (November 2000) was this, the what I assumed to be title track but left of the album of the same name Figure 8. It’s spooky as hell. A simple music box piano plays a spidery, child-like melody in the background while Elliott quietly sings these fantastic lyrics:

Figure 8 is double 4
Figure 4 is half of 8
If you skate, you would be great,
if you could make a figure 8,
that’s a circle that turns round upon itself. 

Figure 8 is 2 times 4
4 times 4 is 2 times 8
If you skate upon thin ice,
you’d be wise if you thought twice,
before you made another single move.

Amazingly (to me at least), it turns out that Figure 8 is not an Elliott original. It was written in 1973 by Bob Dorough and recorded by Blossom Dearie. It first came to the public’s attention via US TVs Schoolhouse Rock series of educational programmes – aye, the same series of programmes that brought you Dorough’s own The Magic Number. You know, “3. Is a magic number. Yes it is. It’s a …” Of course you do. Turns out Dorough is a bit of a jazz cat – he worked with Miles Davis and Alan Ginsberg, played ‘tween Lenny Bruce stand-up sets and led the band in boxer Sugar Ray Robinson’s musical revue.  

Elliott Smith stays pretty faithful to the first half of Dorough’s/Dearie’s original. But whereas his stops at downbeat and introspective, Blossom Dearie picks herself up halfway through and starts singing the 8 times table, much in the way Bob Dorough does in The Magic Number. It’s a weird, weird record, and given my love for Bob Dorough’s most famous tune, I can’t believe I haven’t picked up on the rest of his Schoolhouse Rock stuff until now. As I have just found out to my pleasant surprise, the Schoolhouse Rocks records take all the best bits of Peanuts, The Muppets and Sesame Street and those ‘Charlie Says..‘ UK public information films and ends up with something that is both extremely twee and/or child-friendly, depending on which side of the fence you’re sitting. I bet Duglas T Stewart has an original 1970s vinyl copy somewhere.

 

Hard-to-find

Play That Funky Music White Boy

Craig McAllister

We’ll get the confessions, the truth and the cold hard facts out of the way first. I’m too young to appreciate the beauty that was Postcard Records. Way too young. I’m not exactly sure when I first chanced upon the label, but it was certainly long after the last of those few, fey and feisty 7″s had made their way out of Alan Horne’s bedroom and into the world. While it was all going on I was too caught up in the chart music du jour – Madness, Adam & the Ants, Swords Of A Thousand Men, Spurs Are On Their Way To Wembley. Proper stuff like that. Had I actually heard Blue Boy or Just Like Gold I doubt I’d have liked them. And if you’re being honest with yourself as you read this, when you were 11 you wouldnae have liked them either.

Meet The Beatles? Velvet Underground? Byrds?

It was probably an article in the short lived Scottish music publication CUT that first brought Postcard Records to my attention. Being a heady 13 years old, by now I knew my Robert Lloyds from my Lloyd Coles and had an appetite for discovering new things. I knew of Orange Juice of course. Rip It Up had been all over the airwaves, the words ‘One Hit Wonder’ running through it’s jangly core like a stick of sugary sweet confectionary. And I must’ve been aware of Aztec Camera by this point too. Over the years I’ve come to realise that year zero for many of these bands I grew to love began at Postcard. Edwyn and Orange Juice. Roddy and Aztec Camera. The Go Betweens. All began their shiny black plastic lives on the Postcard label. Josef K too, but, eh, we’ll scratch that last lot out. I never gave them a chance/listen until Franz Ferdinand waxed lyrical about them a few years ago. Like I said earlier, we’ll get the confessions, the truth and the cold hard facts outta the way first. I like them now though.

Anyway. The reason for this article is three-fold.

  1. I’ve been meaning to do a bit about Postcard for a while now.
  2. It’s just over 30 years since the first Postcard 7″,  Orange Juice’s Falling And Laughing, was released – there’s a good wee write up about Orange Juice and the pre-OJ Nu-Sonics here.
  3. Over at the Vinyl Villain, on 6th April they’re celebrating Paul Haig day. Paul Haig was lead singer with Josef K (below). But you knew that already.

So with regards to the above, I’ve compiled The Best Postcard Records Album In The World…Ever. Every a-side and b-side ever released on the label, from Orange Juice’s rare as funk debut (even Edwyn Collins doesn’t have a copy) to Aztec Camera’s non-album Mattress Of Wire. And everything in between, from Antipodean brothers in arms the Go Betweens to Edinburgh’s answer to the Glasgow Glamsters, Josef K.  Every track wrapped in eczema-like scratchy guitars, elastic band basslines and vocals just on the wrong side of tuneful. Well. Almost every track. Roddy Frame uses, gasp! – acoustic guitars! He sings in tune! He’s a precocious 16 year old genius. The fucker! It’s the Sound Of Young Scotland y’know!

  

Here’s what you get:

 Orange Juice
Falling And Laughing　/　Moscow / Moscow Olympics　
 Orange Juice
 Blue Boy　/　Love Sick　
 Josef K
 Radio Drill Time　/　Crazy To Exist　
 Go Betweens
 I Need Two Heads　/　Stop Before You Say It　
 Josef K
 It’s Kinda Funny　/　Final Request　
 Orange Juice
 Simply Thrilled Honey　/　Breakfast Time　
 Orange Juice
 Poor Old Soul　/　Poor Old Soul (pt2)　
 Aztec Camera
 Just Like Gold　/　We Could Send Letters　
 Josef K
 Sorry For Laughing　/　Revelation　
 Josef K
 Chance Meeting　/　Pictures　
 Orange Juice
 Wan Light　(unreleased)/　You Old Eccentric　(not on compilation)
Aztec Camera
Mattress Of Wire　/　Lost Outside The Tunnel

 Why the small writing? Pain in the arse, man.

Download includes exclusive Plain Or Pan artwork.

 

 

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

Alex Chilton

Craig McAllister

Fuck. Just heard the news. This keyboard is awash with tiny tears as I type. It’s always the way, but why do the good guys go first? I can’t believe I’m writing about Alex Chilton in the past tense. His music, especially with Big Star, means as much to me as Them There Beatles, it really does. Whether he was bedroom balladeering or bar-room bawling and balls-out rocking, his songs hit a nerve that jangled all the way to the auditory part of my brain like one of those fancy pants chords he could tease out of his guitar.

If you’re reading this you probably know all about him. Teenage Box Top. Cult hero in coulda been shoulda been Big Star. Producer of The Cramps. Friend and collaborator with fellow enthusiasts/obsessives Teenage Fanclub. All round nice guy, he wrote and recorded some of the best pop songs you’ll hear. Seek out #1 Record or Radio City or 3rd/Sister Lovers for proof. Sometimes bleak, often uplifting, always soulful. But you knew that already. Given our track record for celebrating the artist in death rather than life, Alex Chilton may yet become somewhat ironically a Big Star.

I’m glad I caught Big Star live. Just the once, when they first played Glasgow as part of their initial reunion tour. I stood on the balcony of the QM Union looking down onto the stage where Chilton led his band through non-hit after non-hit after non-hit. The crowd knew every word. So too did Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer of The Posies, similarly Teenage Fanclub-like in their obsessiveness about Big Star, and on-stage playing out their own version of Jim’ll Fix It on bass and guitar. Chilton himself played a mean guitar that night. And I mean mean in the economic sense. No frills, no pedals. Just him, a nice warm valve amp and a couple of vintage guitars. What a sound! Often overlooked in the scheme of things, Chilton was a fantastic guitar player – proof? – His version of My Baby Just Cares For Me is still up for grabs via this post.

He could play anything. Anything. Rock. Pop. Stax-inflected southern soul. Doo-wop. Jazz. E-nee-thing. He was a player’s player. A dude. And he once, sorry twice, played the 13th Note in Glasgow with Teenage Fanclub as his backing band. Naturally I found out about this the day after the second show. It was a Tuesday morning and a colleague from work casually mentioned it on the phone. Pre internet days, I’m afraid. Pissed off? You better believe it. Especially as the bootleg sounds amazing. Here‘s the entire show. No artwork. No tracklisting (I’m far too lazy/far too busy to type it out). First track is a rockin’ September Gurls. There’s covers of T-Rex, 60s pop standards and, yep, Stax-inflected southern soul. Get it and remember him this way.

Thanks for the music Alex.

Alex Chilton. December 28th 1950 – March 17th 2010

Hard-to-find

Thumbs aloft!

Craig McAllister

How much???!!!!????  for a Paul McCartney ticket?

Update

How much? How much? About a month’s worth of Tesco shopping for 3 tickets, that’s how much. Gulped then clicked ‘return’.

Of course.

They’re the best possible seats, but whathaveidone?

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

A Kinks Klunker and a Kouple of Klassiks

Craig McAllister

Call it The Establishment, Rock Royalty, whatever you fancy, but every songwriter has plenty skeletons rattling around their songwriting closet. For every Helter Skelter there’s a Frog Chorus. For every Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands there’s a Wiggle Wiggle. For every Heroes there’s a Laughing Gnome. If you dig deep enough you’ll find that no hero-worshipped songwriter is immune from it. They’ve all written rubbish at some point and some of it has even made it to vinyl.

Kinks ’83 model.

I came to The Kinks via 1983’s Come Dancing, but I was in denial about them for a long, long time. “The Kinks? Oh, they’re an old band.” said my mum. “I met Ray Davies in a pub in Arran once. Or was that Jeff Beck?” Like any normal 13 year old, anything my parents liked, I didn’t (or shouldn’t). If they hated Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood as much as they said they did, I was only going to buy the 12″ and play it non-stop for half a year. Ditto The Kinks’ Come Dancing. I loved it. I bought it. I played it to death when my mum wasn’t around to hear me playing it. Sometime later I borrowed the LP with Come Dancing on it (State Of Confusion) from the library and was massively underwhelmed. What’s all the fuss about those Kinks? This is pub rock. And not even good pub rock. George Thorogood and the Destroyers. Now there’s some decent pub rock for you. I was a good few years away from setting foot in a pub, but I knew. I did. 

State Of Confusion was so bad I didn’t even tape it. The band themselves seemed to be in some state of confusion. Were they rock? New wave? Acoustic balladeers? Nah, they were the bloody Kinks, mate. Only, they were going downhill fast without the brakes on. A severley diluted, sanitised version of the real Kinks that I had yet to hear. Of course a few years later I discovered the true Kinks and came to love them. Ray Davies doesn’t have to apologise for anything he’s written, recorded or released. You and I both know that. But the iPod threw up this stinker of a tune the other day. I had no idea who it was and was beginning to doubt my own taste in music. Then amongst the strangled power chords and strained vocals something jumped out at me. I recognised a wee bit of the voice. T’was only Ray Davies! On Disc 6 of Kinks box set Picture Book. Aye. Disc 6. The disc no-one will ever play more than once. Not The Kinks’ finest hour, that’s for sure. And lo and behold, the track I was about to skip was State Of Confusion, title track from the aforementioned 1983 elpee. It took me all the way back to when I thought the Kinks were Krap. Yuck! It’s a stone cold sure fire Kinks Klunker and no mistake. You have been warned.

I prefer my Kinks tight of trouser, modish of cloth and shaggy of hair. They were a fantastic garage band, a fact often overlooked in the clamber to place them at the top of the classic songwriting pedestal, but find a space in your heart and a few minutes of your time to appreciate the following tracks….

Here’s Sittin’ On My Sofa, Milk Cow Blues and I Need You. I’ve posted I Need You before (here), but You Need It. You Need All Of Them to be honest. As you listen, spare a thought for how they got that guitar sound. If you’ve read Ray’s X-Ray semi-autobiography, you’ll already know that brother Dave took a knitting needle to his amp one day in a fit of squabling sibling rivalry and burst a hole right throught the speaker cone. Cue much fuzzed-up distortion and the riff for You Really Got Me….

Ray and Dandy Dave

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

Superbe? Non, Sublime! (see video for details)

Craig McAllister

Confession time. Leaving aside the ubiquitous and brilliant Je t’aime (moi non plus), until last weekend I had never heard a single Serge Gainsbourg record. I had been reading an article about his daughter Charlotte and how she had been working with Beck. The article mentioned that Beck’s Sea Change album (a favourite of mine) was heavily influenced by Histoire de Melody Nelson, Gainsbourg’s accepted masterpiece. Knowing that other favourites of mine like Jarvis Cocker, St Etienne and Stereolab were fans, it seemed obvious and (long overdue) that I should pay a visit a la maison de Serge and I duly got myself a copy of Histoire de Melody Nelson. I’m glad I did.

 

Where has this music been all my life?! I had expected Gainsbourg to come across like some Gallic garlic-breathed, Gitanes rasping Tom Waits on heat. Which, when I think about it, sounds pretty brilliant actually. But no! Sure, with his droopy eyes and beaky nose he might look like a particularly pervy old turtle (what did the ladies see in him?), but close your eyes and he sounds fantastic. Histoire de Melody Nelson is all street walking, hip thrusting bass and funk guitar. The vocals are practically spoken and drip with what I assume to be lust – my French isn’t as good as it used to be but given Serge’s track record I must assume that this is the case. After all, the guy has history….

Hee hee! The album is (whisper it again – see Sopht Rock post below) a concept album. A Rolls Royce driving Serge knocks a pretty young girl off her bike. As he runs to her aid his thoughts turn not to how badly injured she is, but how beautiful she looks. Naturellement. Sleazy? You bet. Think Marvin Gaye dressed not in a modish mohair suit but in a dirty raincoat. How come he got away with stuff like this and R Kelly ended up in the jail? Well, to answer my own question, R Kelly’s music is clearly criminal enough…
 
Histoire de Melody Nelson is equal part Funkadelic and equal part Jacques Brel. Given the combination of music and subject matter, Prince must surely be a fan. The playing on it is outstanding. Not surprising given the calibre of the musicians. No household names, but the individuals involved have impressive form.

On guitars, Big Jim Sullivan and Vic Flick. Big Jim was an in demand sessioneer in the 60s (He was ‘Big’ Jim so as not to confuse him with Little Jim(my) Page), he played with Tom Jones in his 70s Vegas Golden Era, befriending Elvis in the process, and appears, allegedly and un-credited, on almost 1000 hit singles. Vic Flick was part of the John Barry Seven. You’ve heard his guitar playing a million times before – it’s his distinctive twang that plays the James Bond Theme. As well as playing in assorted musical line ups in the 70s, keyboardist Alan Hawkshaw wrote much music for adverts, composed a ton of BBC library music and came up with Chicken Man, better known to most of you here as the Grange Hill theme. Most impressively of all, he wrote the music you hear on Countdown as the clock ticks down to zero. Bassman Herbie Flowers has many strings to his bass/bow. He is known to many as bassist in 70s classic/prog/rock fusion ensemble Sky and he is known to 80s kids as the writer of novelty pop hit Grandad, but he is perhaps best known for playing that bassline on Lou Reed’s Walk On The Wild Side. But, hey boy, you knew that already, didn’t you?

Serge et Jane B. Lucky B.

Histoire de Melody Nelson is a short album, less than half an hour long, and sounds like one continuous piece of music. This is the best way to listen to it. I’ve posted a track below (listen out for the way he croons “merde”), but really, to get the full experience, you should allow yourself half an hour to enjoy the album as a whole. While you do, have a perv at the cover. That’s Jane Birkin on the front. And I don’t think she’s wearing much more than that pair of jeans…..

Serge Gainsbourg Melody

Following on from this week’s epiphany, my search for Serge has led me to a wonderful album called Les Annees Psychedelique. It contains every bit of French freak-out funk and jazz you could ever possibly need. One track stood out above all. Requiem Pour Un Con reminded me of an old track by The Folk Implosion. Playing the 2 tracks back to back I realised that The Folk Implosion had sampled and looped the opening drum track and fashioned it into a fantastic instrumental tribute to Gainsbourg named ‘Serge‘.

Also on Les Annees Psychedelique is Bonnie & Clyde, Serge’s 1968 duet with Brigitte Bardot. Not as famous as Je t’aime, but equally as good. I’m now off to find Serge’s original version of said track, featuring Bardot instead of Birkin on vocals. À beintôt! 

Bof!

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

Who Loves Ya Baby?

Craig McAllister

Aye, it may be Valentine’s day and Cupid may well have shot his arrow haphazardly in my direction, but there’s no room for slushy sentimental syrup here. Only the finest in 1970s funk (of course).

A track popped up on the iPod the other day and I was convinced I was listening to a rare outtake of The Temptations Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone. It had that same stop/start bass riff, sweeping cinematic strings and double-time handclaps, and it was only the absence of vocals that had me reaching for the ‘now playing’ menu to see what I was really listening to.

It was this, an obscure funk/soul track by Brinkley & Parker. Released in 1974, Don’t Get Fooled By The Pander Man could well be the theme for a long-forgotten down market cop show. Clipped wockawockawocka guitar, brass ‘n strings and a fantastic hi-hat and handclaps rhythm which kicks in around the 1 min 30 mark, Don’t Get Fooled By The Pander Man is the sound of beige leather jackets with over-sized floppy collars, 27″ bell bottoms and stacked cuban heels. With added car chases and Chinese food in cardboard boxes. As the man himself once said, Can You Dig It?

Ah, what the heck?!

I recently put up a rare version of Ball Of Confusion which is still available here. As another bonus, here‘s the full 11 minutes + version of Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone. Like that? You’ll like this – The Temptations Psychedelic Shack. A wee bit Sly, a wee bit Hendrix, a whole lotta groove.

Sometimes, the shortest posts are the best. I know you all just scroll through the crap that drips from my typing fingers til you find the mp3 links anyway. Bastards.

Anyway, thanks (as always) for visiting. I love ya, baby! Au revoir, a bientot!

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

The Godfather 3

Craig McAllister

I feel good! And so does my PC. Following a series of bangs, crashes, lost passwords and mis-firing emails, my old 20th century steam powered computer is back in the land of the living. So whilst the Antiques Roadshow were valuing it as a contemporary classic I’ve been busying myself listening to James Brown, the really early doo-wop influenced James Brown. Lo and behold, I get myself back online and discover that one of my pals has posted this on his Facebook page:

Mr Big Stuff, it’s surely a divine sign! I love the way he lets out one of those involuntary phlegmy ‘Huh!s’ towards the end. That’s why James Brown will never be bettered, if you ask me. Sadly, the self-styled Soul Brother #1 would never have done the Mashed Potato or the Tap Dancer to ‘Try Me’ or ‘Please Please Please’. Those dances were reserved for the BAM! 2,! 3! 4! BAM! 2,! 3! 4! funk-soul nuggets that earned him all those superlative-filled outrageous nick names. Tunes like ‘Cold Sweat’ or ‘There Was A Time’ or ‘Say It Loud (I’m Black & I’m Proud)’ sound great, but they look fantastic when The Entertainer breaks out one of his dance routines mid-song (Go to YouTube. Do not pass Go. Do not collect £200. Just Go! Now!)

The James Brown Revue began touring in 1960. Brown hired a tight, tight band who played for their lives with one eye on the crowd and both eyes on their leader. He’d point to the horn player at any given moment and expect him to blast out a note-perfect solo. He’d jab a finger at the drummer and expect him to ‘get wicked’ just like that. His band quickly learned to do just that because he’d fine them if they missed the first bar in any one of those jerky four-to-the-floor masterpieces. If they couldn’t take it to the bridge, it was the end of the road for them as musicians. But you knew all that already. In his Revue he’d always have some female company who would do a set at the start. Many of these women learned to give it up or turn it loose, so to speak, and they became on-the-road girlfriends of James Brown.

‘Marvellous’ Marva Whitney was one such lady. James Brown chose her set, sang duets on stage with her before his performance and generally did with her what he’d do with his other female singers. After a bit, Marva got fed up of Brown choosing her material and after trying but failing to become Mrs James Brown she left in a bit of a huff, though not before she’d recorded half a dozen or so funktastic solo tracks and the odd duet with James. She swapped one religious experience for another by becoming a God-fearin’, soul-stirrin’ minister in Kansas City. Here’s 3 of the most soulful and funkiest (and longest titled) she recorded with JB’s backing band.

Unwind Yourself

You Got To Have A Job (If You Don’t Work You Don’t Eat)

It’s My Thing (You Can’t Tell Me Who To Sock It To) Parts 1 &2

You’ll probably recognise riffs, melodies and tunes from elsewhere, not least other James Brown records.

I got to see James Brown live just the once. It was kinda tragic. Half way throught his set, Soul Brother #1 left for a quick costume change and while he did so, a magician came out and sawed a woman in half to the sound of Brown’s band playing furious funk. No kiddin’! It wasn’t that great really. The time I saw Prince, he was far better. Irony, huh?

Double Nugget, Hard-to-find

Denny Laine is in my ears and in my eyes

Craig McAllister

S’another couple of tracks in my fairly infrequent Double Nuggets series, where I take a couple of rarely heard gems from the 60s and thrust them centre-stage and under the spotlight and give them their 15 minutes of fame.

First up, Say You Don’t Mind by Denny Laine’s Electric String Band. Recorded and released in Year Zero for psych-heads (1967) betwixt and between Laine’s stints in the Moody Blues and Wings, this track is pastoral English baroque-pop personified. Deram had high hopes for the single, but it wasn’t until 1972 that former Zombie Colin Blunstone helped it into the charts with his own version. Ironic, really, as Say You Don’t Mind would give anything from the Zombies Odessey & Oracle album a good run for it’s money. A glass-half-full optimistic strumalong full of upbeat joy (you get the idea), if you like yer Paul Weller pastoralised (is that even a word?) or yer Foxes Fleet of foot, this track’s for you.

Next, a band who came straight outta Mod Central. Sounding naffink like the track above, Brighton-based Penny Peeps were named (my grandfather tells me) after those saucy seaside gizmos you could put a penny in and see a girl undressing. Cheeky scamps. This is a band who, had they been invented way back then, would’ve had The Who’s first album on constant repeat on the old iPod. The guitars ring like Townshend’s and the backing vocals ‘ooh‘ and ‘ahh‘ like a lost demo of Substitute (listen out too for the “I can sit for hours and hours and hours and hours” line just after the minute mark – pure ‘oo!) Aye. A harmony-heavy hammond-enhanced mod stomping 2 minutes 54 seconds, these kids are alright. Here you go.

Blur Fanclub Singles, Cover Versions, demo, Dylanish, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, Kraut-y, Live!, Most downloaded tracks, Studio master tapes

Three! Free! Fae Me!

Craig McAllister

Plain Or Pan is 3 years old and what better way to celebrate than with a compilation CD…..

Add your own Ronco/K-Tel voiceover:

Featuring the most popular downloads from last year’s blog, this compilation is the ideal taster for what Plain Or Pan is about. Covers, curios and the odd hard-to-find classic, this fantastic double CD is not available in the shops or from any good online retailers. Get it only at myTunes! Free! Today! Now!

Aye. It’s the ideal companion to last year’s double CD (still available here). Kicking off with the notorious Beatles Revolution take 20  outtake/outfake? that nearly melted Plain Or Pan for good in January last year, I’ve included some odd ball covers (Eli ‘Paperboy’ Reed, the Dead Weather track), Fleet Foxes spin-offs (White Antelope), one of Johnny Marr’s favourite records (The Equals), rare fanclub-only releases (Blur), hardly-heard studio gems (The Temptations), demos (Marvin Gaye, The Pretenders), rarities (The La’s white label version of Timeless Melody – only 500 exist) and a whole lot more over 2 CDs. I’m rather proud of this wee compilation. It includes some nifty home-made artwork too! Right click on CD1 and CD2 below to download each CD in one go.

 

CD1                                                 CD2

 

Complete tracklisting:

Disc 1

The Beatles – Revolution (take 20)

The Kinks – I Need You

Pop Levi – Blue Honey

The Temptations – Ball Of Confusion (unreleased version)

Booker T & the MGs – Sing A Simple Song

Ike & Tina Turner – Bold Soul Sister

Eli ‘Paperboy’ Reed & the Trueloves – Ace Of Spades

Marvin Gaye – Let’s Get It On (demo)

Arctic Monkeys – Baby I’m Yours

Afghan Whigs – Band Of Gold

Nirvana – Smells Like Teen Spirit (live)

The Soup Greens – Like A Rolling Stone

The La’s – Timeless Melody (GOLAS3 version)

Trash Can Sinatras – Snow

Super Furry Animals – Citizens Band

The Sundays – Wild Horses

Sparkelhorse/Danger Mouse feat Nina Persson – Daddy’s Gone

 

Disc 2

Glasvegas – The Prettiest Girl On Saltcoats Beach (full length version)

The Pretenders – Brass In Pocket (demo)

The Byrds – Mr Tambourine Man (vocal track)

Frank Blake – You Don’t Have To Cry

The Equals – Black Skin Blue Eyed Boys

The Fall – Lost In Music

Dead Weather – Are Friends Electric?

John Kongos – He’s Gonna Step On You Again

Grace Jones – Pull Up To The Bumper (12” mix)

Blur – Sing (To Me) (demo)

Inspiral Carpets – 96 Tears

Beck – Sunday Morning

White Antelope – It Ain’t Me Babe

Eddi Reader – Blues Run The Game

Stone Roses – Love Spreads (Guitar Track)

Neu! – Hallogallo