Gone but not forgotten, New! Now!

Happy Birthday Rabbie!

Craig McAllister

252 years young the day!

That reminds me. Prince Charles was on a visit to Crosshouse Hospital, just outside Kilmarnock a couple of years ago. One of the Hospital big wigs was accompanying him round the wards, steering old Charlie clear of the wasters, winos and swine flu sufferers that were using up valuable bed space. Walking into one ward, The Prince stopped at one of the first beds and asked the young man how he was feeling. The bedridden patient replied;

“Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,
Wi’ murdering pattle.”

Charles mumbled something under his breath, smiled at the distressed patient and walked on. He stopped at another bed and asked the next patient how he too was fareing. The patient looked up and shouted out,

“My curse upon your venom’d stang,
That shoots my tortur’d gooms alang,
An’ thro’ my lug gies monie a twang
Wh’ gnawing vengeance,
Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,
Like racking engines!”

Somewhat shaken, Charles walked on. Stopping at the last bed  he looked at the patient. Being the future King and all, it was only polite of him to ask this patient how he too was progressing. With a froth of the mouth patient number three barked out,

“When Chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearing late,
An’ folk begin to tak the gate;
While we sit bousing at the nappy,
An’ getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps and styles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like a gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

This truth fand honest Tam O Shanter,
As he frae Ayr ae nicht did canter:
(Auld Ayr, wham ne’er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses.)”

A visibly bemused and perturbed Charles turned to his guide and inquired, “Where are we man? Is this some sort of mental ward?”

“No Sir,” came the reply. “This is the severe Burns Unit.”

You can have that one for free….

Here‘s lo-fi acoustic folk Scottish supergroup-of-sorts The Burns Unit doing a brand new song called Tupperware Pieces for last week’s Marc Riley show on BBC 6 Music. S’a cracker. (I stole the mp3 from Peenko – ta!)

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

Marr’s Barres

Craig McAllister

….or how Johnny cooked up How Soon Is Now?

How Soon Is Now? – don’t forget the question mark! – is the song that people who dislike The Smiths like. Those same people who would lazily decree The Smiths as ‘miserable‘ whilst frantically waving a 12″ of Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now right under your nose (“Exhibit A, M’Lud!”) embraced How Soon Is Now? as if it were the returning of The Messiah himself.  It’s true! As well as being a dancefloor filler from Dublin to Dundee and Humberside, it was the song that truly broke The Smiths on the American touring circuit, from out of the colleges and into the (relatively) cavernous venues required to house the hordes who packed in expecting to hear more of the same rockist thunk. Ironically, it was the one song in The Smiths’  impressive arsenal that the band never quite managed to pull off live and in more recent times, Morrissey and his ham-fisted group of plodders have failed miserably to do it justice too. It’s a unique track, made in unique circumstances and although others have tried, no-one, NO-ONE! has managed to get it sounding quite as majestic as the band what wrote it. So how did they do it?

Ingredients:

  • One copy of Hey Bo Diddley. The first track Bo Diddley will do.
  • One copy of Run Through The Jungle. Must be The Gun Club version, NOT the Creedence Clearwater Revival original. If you don’t have an actual version, a crappy lo-fi mp3 will have to do. Sorry.
  • One copy of Can‘s I Want More from 1976’s Flow Motion LP.
  • One copy of Hamilton Bohannon‘s Disco Stomp.
  • One copy of Lovebug Starski‘s pioneering hip-hop single You’ve Gotta Believe from 1982.

Method:

Listen closely to Bo Diddley’s guitar playing. D’you hear that juddering tremeloed effect? File it away for use at a later date. Now take The Gun Club track. Oh! It has almost the same rhythm as Bo Diddley’s! And only one chord by the sounds of it! Keep that in mind for the moment. Now. Think. D’you remember driving back from Wales on a really hot day, sitting in the back of your parents’ car, listening to the radio? Hamilton Bohannon’s disco stomp was all the rage in 1975. Great rhythm guitar playing, I’m sure you’ll agree. You’ll want to use that too – throw it all in.

It’s time to cool it down now. Don’t worry, it can’t ever be too cool. In 1976 as the world went disco, even pioneering German prog-rockers were getting in on the act. Take your copy of I Want More by Can and give it a good listen to. Juddering? Repetitive? Keyboard motifs? Just as I thought! Make a mental note to do something about them later.

Weapons of Marr’s Construction

Now for the tricky part. Take all these wonderful ingredients and splice them together. Make a rough demo, call it ‘Swamp‘ then pop it through Morrissey’s letter box – he’ll sort out the lyrics, just you worry about the tune. Book a studio – Jam Studios in North London will be just fine. Ask John Porter if he’d mind coming along to twiddle a few knobs on the old Fender Twins. Change the light bulbs to red, spark up a generous spliff and start the tapes a-rollin’. Woah! Something’s cookin’ alright!

Cook for about 7 minutes. Take out the oven. Garnish with liberal sprinklings of Lovebug Starski (Morrissey would be horrified at the thought, but don’t worry, he’ll be too busy working up to a whistle later on, he’ll never notice – have a listen around the 3.11 mark – oh aye!) If you can, add some fantastic slide guitar, make it sound like a distressed cat miaowing into infinity ét voila! A masterpiece!

It’s worth noting that the first time you attempt this recipe, you may assume the vocalist is singing about the elements, “the sun and the air” and all that jazz. Listen again. Very clever guy, that singer. A bit too clever for the record company, who failed to spot the potential of How Soon Is Now? and were initially happy for The Smiths to stick it on as the extra track on the 12″ of William, It Was Really Nothing. I suppose it’s a measure of Morrissey and Marr’s confidence and unrivalled song writing skills that they could knock out such high quality songs between albums seemingly at will. For us mere mortals who aren’t blessed with the genius songwriting skills required to make such great records, perhaps this recipe of unlikely (though entirely obvious) influences will serve as some sort of cold comfort.

*BONUS TRACK!

Here‘s the Italian 12″ version of How Soon Is Now? With a different vocal and different mix it’s rarer than a steak pie in Morrissey’s house.

You can also still get my Mojo magazine-inspired Johnny Marr’s Dansette Delights compilation. Words here. Music here. 1000+ downloaders can’t be wrong!

There’s a fantastic Smiths bootleg that recently crept out, around Christmas time, featuring alternative mixes, scrapped demos, the whole shooting match, a Holy Grail for Smiths collectors. You can download it via here. Although, you knew that already, didn’t you?

There’s also a website linked over there on the right called Extra Track And a Tacky Badge. This is a right labour of love for those involved. They’re tweaking the band’s 17 singles to make them sound as magnificent as possible. If you’ve heard the work they did to the Joy Division and New Order catalogues, you’ll know what I mean. if not, get over there sharpish…

Just so you know, Simon Goddard‘s excellently trainspotterish Mozipedia was a constant source of reference for this piece. No fan of The Smiths and/or Morrissey should be without it.

A man of wealth and taste.

demo, Hard-to-find, Live!

Viva Glasvegas

Craig McAllister

Troon on a rainy Wednesday night. Not the sort of place you expect to find bona fide uber-hip, pointy-booted, squeezed head-to-toe into super-skinny black leather ‘n denim pop stars. This sleepy seaside town is more au fait with the golf swing rather than the swing of rock ‘n roll, yet 24 hours ago it was shaken from it’s slumber to the cries of “1! 2! 3! 4!” instead of plain old “fore!”

Georgia took the photo. I stole it.

Glasvegas were in town and, having had the carrot of an AAA Guest Pass dangled before my eyes, I made the short 15 minute trip from North Ayrshire into the beautiful South, with it’s posh wheelie bins and faint reek of the good life. Pass in hand and plonked in the rattle-yer-jewellery good seats of the town’s Concert Hall, we had the perfect view to enable us to take in the new sights ‘n sounds of the ‘vegas. New sights #1? That would be James all in white, not black, no longer playing guitar, “cos you didnae see Sinatra janglin’ away oan wan while he crooned.” New sights #2? That would be recently-recruited Swedish drummer Jonna/Joanna (?), who just like Moe T and Bobby G before her, prefers to stand and bash away at the kit. Actually, that’s a complete disservice to her. She’s far more of a drummer than those other 2 hamfisted clobberers combined. She’s added a fresh new dimension to the band’s wall of sound AND she’s quite capable of adjusting her specs mid-beat as they slide off her beautiful, sweaty Swedish face. A multi-talented, multi-tasking vision in auburn hair. And I’m not the only one who thought that, eh birthday boy?

Georgia took the photo. I stole it. Again.

New sounds? That’ll be the 3 new tracks, being played live for only the 3rd or 4th time ahead of this Spring’s 2nd album. Underneath the gazillion effect pedals turned up to 10 there’s the faint echo of John McGeoch in some of the guitar riffs, post-punk and spidery-thin against the Killing Joke slab of bass. Nothing played tonight hints at the major-to-minor melodrama of the Ronettes-do-Dion dying in a car-crash first album material, but then James says later on that he didn’t think the songs played tonight are representative of it at all.

“What’s it like then, the new album?” Back at the hotel, and the seemingly stuck like Superglue Orbison Raybans have been swapped for an over-sized set of blue-tinted Lennon lenses. Yer man sits down next to us and I start firing questions at him. The first one’s a simple enough question which he’s no doubt been asked a fair few times already this week on a tour of Scottish gig backwaters that has taken them to places more used to ceilidhs and beetle drives. “Eh, ah dunno. It’s kinda hard tae describe. D’you know wance ye’ve shaved an’ ye look at yersel’ in the mirror? How dis it look?”

“Smooth,” I deadpan. “Smooth. So the new album’s like Luther Vandross?” He doesn’t get it, I think, and I’m not sure what to say next. Fear not, though, for James is a non-stop anecdotal motormouth. He’s off and running, waxing lyrical about Alan McGee and his Creation Records film, Bono and Noel Gallagher soundchecks, the merits of Phil Spector’s Christmas Album v’s James Brown’s Funky Christmas, playing festivals in Spain, Freddie Mercury’s shoes; you name it, he’ll have a soundbite prepared. On this week’s gigs, there’s lots of talk about ‘the vibe‘ and ‘the feelin” and ‘y’know?’ He’s a walkin’, talkin’ rock ‘n roll cliche and he’s ridiculously hilarious. He just doesn’t know it yet. Paranoid about having to live up to McGee’s proclamation of him as some sort of genius, yet perfectly willing to accept that he is indeed some sort of genius, James Allan could well be the next Bobby Gillespie. Now there’s a thought.

I also took the chance to chastise him for not playing tonight the best song in the Glasvegas catalogue, the wonderful Prettiest Girl On Saltcoats Beach. I’ve written about it before, here. You can fill yer (pointy) boots here:

The Prettiest Girl On Saltcoats Beach (full length version)

The Prettiest Girl On Saltcoats Beach (demo)

 

Get This!

Reel Music

Craig McAllister

Peter Salett was an artist I was enirely unfamiliar with until last summer. I was up late and found myself engrossed in ‘Down In The Valley‘ – a movie where cop’s daughter good girl (Evan Rachel Wood) meets cowboy drifter bad boy (Ed Norton) with predictably disastrous consequences. I’m no Mark Kermode ( I’m not even any Claudia Winkleman) but for what it’s worth, I think it was a pretty good movie. Standout for me was the music that plays over the beach scene, as the two main characters coyly get it on.

The track wasPeter Salett’s Sunshine. Low key, lo-fi and sung in the kind of hushed tones that rival Elliott Smith at his most fragile and introspective, Sunshine had me. I had to find out more.

I got myself a copy of In The Ocean Of The Stars, Salett’s 5th release from 2008. I’m not exaggerating here when I say this album is a stone cold lost classic, up there with Gene Clark’s No Other, Dennis Wilson’s Pacific Ocean Blue and other such since-discovered diamonds. Equal parts Elliott Smithish folk introspection, Randy Newmanesque melancholy and Brian Wilsonish simplisticness, In The Ocean Of The Stars never fails to disappoint. Every time I listen to it I hear new things. That world-weary Randy Newman reference is all the way through the opening track Magic Hour, bathed in pathos with it’s backwards-masked rhythm, wonky accordian and woozy country psychedelia. Really! The ghost of Gene Clark’s alt Americana is all over the title track, rich drop-tuned guitars, sweeping strings and a breathtaking “Starry, starry night” vocal.  Anglophiles may spot shades of Ed Harcourt or even, in I Miss You (Thought You Should Know), a bit of Richard Hawley. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it or it’s creator until now.

A bit of internet digging reveals Salett has contributed quite a lot to movie soundtracks over the past decade. There’s every chance you’ve heard him already without realising. You might even have heard his stuff and gone on to investigate more, as I’ve done.  For all I know, everyone knows about him except me and I’m last to the party, arriving just as the best bit’s over and everyone’s moving on to the next hip thing. I don’t know. But I do know that In The Ocean Of The Stars is worth 40 minutes of anyone’s time. Go here to hear the album in full. You might even want to buy it afterwards.

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

Four Play

Craig McAllister

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

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

Tracklist Disc 1:

Jackson 5 I Want You Back acapella

Dean Carter Jailhouse Rock

Frankie Valli Queen Jane Approximately

Chris Bell I Am The Cosmos

Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson I Am The Cosmos

Scott Walker Black Sheep Boy

Tim Buckley Dolphins

Sandie Shaw I Don’t Owe You Anything

Big Maybelle 96 Tears

Patti Jo Make Me Believe In You

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

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

Sly Stone Time For Livin’ (early version)

Maggie Thrett Soupy

Sheila and B. Devotion Spacer

Happy Mondays Staying Alive

Aretha Franklin / Duane Allman The Weight

Funkadelic Maggot Brain (alt mix)

 

 

Tracklist Disc 2:

Spiritualized Can’t Help Falling In Love

Serge Gainsbourg Melody

Stone Roses Something’s Burning (demo)

Can I’m So Green

Alex Chilton My Baby Just Cares For Me

Elliott Smith I’ll Be Back

The Czars Where the Boys Are

Peter Fonda November Night

Beach Boys Never Learn Not To Love

Charles Manson Cease To Exist

Wedding Present Happy Birthday (Peel Session)

Penny Peeps Model Village

The Stairs Woman Gone And Say Goodbye

Kinks Sittin’ On My Sofa

Ramones Judy Is A Punk (1975 demo)

Capsula Run Run Run

White Stripes Party Of Special Things To Do

13th Floor Elevators Slip Inside This House

Jake Holmes Dazed & Confused

White Antelope Silver Dagger

Arcade Fire Poupee de Cire, Poupee de Son

The Velvelettes Needle In A Haystack acapella

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

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

Hard-to-find

It’s the last great day of the year

Craig McAllister

I don’t know much at all about the band Cousteau, but this track is really, really good. So good, in fact, I bought the album, which later pissed me off when all the free CDs that the music mags gave away at the end of 1999 featured it.

cousteau.jpg

‘The Last Good Day Of The Year’ was written by one Davey Ray Moor and occupies the musical space between Tindersticks and The Divine Comedy. The fore-mentioned singer clearly has a Scott Walker obsession, and there’s enough clipped guitar, brass refrains and general top-notch production that it wouldn’t sound out of place being sung by Dusty Springfield in 1968. Look at the picture of the band – you know what they sound like. Suffice to say,  ‘The Last Good Day Of The Year’ is the perfect downbeat, melancholy soundtrack for the end of 2010 (as it was at the end of 2007 when I first featured it!).

Pour me a Johnnie Walker red and start the countdown to the bells………

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

Walk Away Renee Quadruple Whammy

Craig McAllister

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

And when I see the sign that points one way

The lot we used to pass by every day

Just walk away Renee

You won’t see me follow you back home

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

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

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

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

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

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

Postscript

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

Yer actual Renee Fladen-Kamm. She walked away.

Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find

I’m Dreaming Of A Brown Christmas*

Craig McAllister

That’s Brown. James Brown. I think I may just have found a rival to Phil Spector’s Christmas Gift For You in the Best Christmas album In The World….Ever! stakes. James Brown’s Funky Christmas does exactly what it says on the tin and a whole lot more. Whether it’s a-whoopin’ and a-hollerin’ call-and-response gospel frenzy, or down-on-its-knees testifyin’ doo-wop soul, or the sort of on-the-one dance music that led to JB being re-christened Mr Dynamite, James Brown’s Funky Christmas is one hell of a soulful shout-out to Santa Claus; a right proper lookin’ to the skies for forgiveness frenzy of festive funk.

It’s real soul, man, not the sort of artifice with a catchy chorus and a couple of sleigh bells that normally gets chucked about this time of year. Despite titles such as Let’s Unite The Whole World At Christmas and Santa Claus, Santa Claus, I could quite happily listen to this album round the barbeque in July. I couldn’t say the same for Mariah Carey’s (albeit terrific – aye!) Christmas effort.

Get on the good foot and get down(loadin’)

Then go and buy the whole album. You won’t regret it.

Go Power At Christmas Time

Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto

Merry Christmas Baby

Let’s Make Christmas Mean Something This Year

Soulful Christmas


*Token Christmas post. Normal service resumed next week with Plain Or Pan’s annual end-of-year compilation and other such delights. Hope Santa’s good to y’all.

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

The Don Chorus

Craig McAllister

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

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


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

Part Of Special Things To Do

China Pig

Ashtray Heart

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

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

By The Way..

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

Slight Update

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

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

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

Well worth 10 minutes of anyone’s time!

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

The Bare-Faced Chic Of It!

Craig McAllister

Ask anyone to name the great double-act song writers and they’ll give you any number of Lennons & McCartneys, Liebers & Stollers, Goffins & Kings, Morrisseys & Marrs, (insert your choice here ______). I’d wager that few amongst you would automatically add the names of Edwards & Rodgers to that esteemed list, yet in my world they’d be one of the first double acts I’d think of.

Edwards & who?,  you might ask. Well, you wouldn’t. You are, after all, men (& women) of wealth and taste. Jagger & Richards, there’s another! But plenty people are familiar with the music of Edwards & Rodgers, yet few would know them by name. They’ve been sampled a gazillion times (Grandmaster Flash‘s Adventures on the Wheels of Steel – but you knew that already), helping give birth to hip-hop. They’ve been ripped off by the obvious (Queen‘s Another One Bites The Dust) and the not-so-obvious (The Smiths – listen to the second verse of The Boy With The Thorn In His Side. Hear that rinky-dink guitar riff in the background? That’s Johnny Marr’s homage to Nile Rodgers so it is. JM is such a fan of the Chic guitarist, he named his son after him). But I bet even the most ardent of music fans you know from work would be hard-pushed to tell you who they were. Go on! Ask someone tomorrow!

Seasoned New York sessioneers-for-hire Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers formed Chic in 1976.  Once they’d added vocalist Norma Jean Wright to their studio line-up, Atlantic Records signed them on the strength of their demo tape. That same tape made up the bulk of their first album, Chic, in 1977 and had dance floors from Studio 54 and beyond getting all hot under the collar to their unique blend of bass-heavy/guitar-lite/whispered female vocals. I love ’em. I am after all unashamedly disco, but to me, Chic are more than mere disco. Top players making top records. If they were, like, a proper rock band (ugh!), they’d be revered everywhere from Irvine, California to Irvine,  Ayrshire.

Listen to this. I Want Your Love, from ’78s C’est Chic LP. Following the bass-heavy/guitar-lite/whispered female vocals template, it oozes quality. Remember that this was the era when disco was dead, when technique-based musicianship was sneered at with a curled lip and ball of phlegm. Chic didn’t care. They stuck church bells, church bells! on top, added the grooviest of trumpet ‘n string refrains and played it out for 6 and a half minutes. The bare-faced Chic of it, by not conforming to the norm surely that’s more punk than punk?! Elsewhere, chord progressions may have been getting simpler and ‘proper’ musicians were dumbing down. Like a modernised version of an old Stax or Motown Revue, Chic were a guitar-based rock group playing dance music, for the pure sophisticated thrill of it. I Want Your Love never sounds tired, or dated. C’est Chic indeed.

Like that? Try this. I found it a while back on this magical world wide web we are a-surfin’ together. It’s a fan remix, the Dream Time Mix, not official in any sense of the word, but it is simply sensational – over 13 minutes long and quite superb.

Like that? Now try this. Edwards & Rodgers were accomplished producers. One artist to benefit from their talents was French singer Sheila B. In 1979, under the name Sheila and B. Devotion she had a massive hit with Spacer. The Chic hallmarks are all there – the instantly hummable bass riff, the instantly recognisable clipped guitar, the breathy female vocals. Spacer sounds a bit like Nico in places, more Germanic than French. But I doubt Nico would’ve ever allowed herself to be discofied in quite such a glorious manner.

Useless Spacer fact: Edwyn Collins always has a copy of Spacer on hand whenever he’s booked to DJ somewhere.

Now go and listen to all those brilliant Orange Juice records and ponder – that hummable bassline? Hmmm. That clipped guitar? Uhhh huhhh. Y’see…Edwyn knows the score! Chic-meets-the-Velvets I think was his phrase, wasn’t it?