Hard-to-find, Sampled

Virgin Records

Craig McAllister

Far, far away, in a galaxy long ago, long before Jarvis Cocker and his friends were reminising about their first time…

Ch-ch-ch-ch-check it out!

“This is the story of out first teacher,” crooned those Caledonian Casanovas The Proclaimers. “Shetland made her jumpers and the devil made her features.” This Is The Story was The Proclaimers first album, released way back in 1987 and taken from it, the solidly swinging Over And Done With was a broad Scots’ celebration of all things conjugal, backed by an Iggy Pop Passenger riff and rough-roon-the-edges Everly Brothers 2-part harmonies.

“This is the story of losing my virginity.

I held my breath and the bed held a trinity.

People I’m making no claims to no mystery,

but sometimes it feels like my sex life’s all history.

It’s over and done with, it’s over and done with….”

For this particular pair of Celtic balladeers who were more geek than chic, it really was over and done with, in every sense of the phrase. I saw The Proclaimers around the time of their first album when they sauntered onto the stage at the Motherwell Music Festival as support to Deacon Blue; no dry ice, no fanfares, no strobes, just the pair of them, one with guitar, the other with an orange Adidas kit bag from where he produced an assortment of bongo drums, tambourines and other things that made a primary school racket when beaten, bashed and bumped. They were quite terrific if I remember, far superior to the headliners who took it all far too seriously, and despite them being the brunt of a million jokes, with a gazillion+ sales of 500 Miles they’re having the last laugh. They’ve probably moved onto a nicer class of teacher too.

The Proclaimers may have got it over and done with with the help of an anonymous eager Shetlander, but De La Soul were a bit more open about things on ‘88’s Jenifa (Taught Me). Built almost entirely from samples using the finest cut ‘n paste methods for the time, Jenifa is funkier than a mosquito’s tweeter, it kicks like a mule (thanks to the Steve Miller Band’s skitteryTake the Money And Run drum break) and, no beating about the bush, gets straight to the point.

“The downstairs, where we met
I brought records, she cassettes
Lost the break, found her shape
Jenifa, oh Jenny

Transcripts showed more than flirt
’I love daisies’ read her shirt
Grabbed my jeans, Jimmy screamed
Jenifa, oh Jenny

Marvellous
Shaped like a vase
No one can live their life for Pos
Found a house, aroused my joust
Jenifa, oh Jenny

Her clothes, I did shuck
Just like Dan I strictly stuck
To the punt, she cried ’kick it’
Posdnuos was in”

And on and on it goes, samples of Maggie Thrett’s fantastically funky’ Soupy’ and Lynn Collins ‘Think’ tumbling in and out of the mix as the 3 De La’s take turns on the mic. You’ll like it. If you’re familiar with the 3 Feet High and Rising album version, make way for the rowdier original 12” mix.

Yowsa! Thrett. No threat.

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

Putting On The Weight

Craig McAllister

Take a load off fanny, take a load for free. Or is it Take a load of fanny, take a load for free? Either way, The Weight by The Band often causes me to let out a wee schoolboy snigger every time I hear it. And in this part of the world I’m quite sure I’m not alone, eh? With typical American insularity (I know! I know! 4 out the 5 were Canadian), his world-weary lyric appears totally unaware of our quirky West of Scotland localisms. Funny that.

Long before Phil Collins and his particularly annoying nasal whine made singing drummers about as cool as cabbage, Levon Helm and his spectacular beard were leading The Band’s mellow blended vocals from behind the drum kit. I’ve always loved their (original) version of The Weight, with its rootsy backing and arm-around-the-shoulder, everything’ll-be-alright-in-the-end lyric. It’s only a few short lumberjack-shirted steps on from the fantastic stuff Dylan had them playing down in the basement of Big Pink and for me, it’s about as good a definition of ‘Americana’ as you could get. So it’s great when someone else can see beyond the boundaries of whatever Americana is and is able to re-interpret the song in their own unique way.

Aretha Franklin hooked up with Duane Allman and recorded this version at Muscle Shoals. Loose, funky and full of those soaraway Aretha vocal moments you know so well, it sounds insistent, urgent and right-on wholly holy gospel. Allman plays bottle guitar throughout like a maniac, while what sounds like the Stax house riff freely on the horns. Nice Chain Of Fools kick drum in the chorus too. Have a listen. Majestic is the word you’re looking for.

Poor Travis. They’ve always been one step out of fashion, betwixt and between the next big thing. Arriving just as the Cava was getting flat at the Britpop party and too soon for an unappreciative public not yet ready for angsty melodic serious indie like Coldplay, who then came along and stole what brief thunder they may have had, they’ve been given a hard time of it. Which is a bit unfair, as they undoubtedly know their onions. The Travis version is straightforward, melodic and clearly heart-felt. No Staxy horns. No slide guitar. But plenty of Scottish soul. Whatever that is.

Talking of soul, and that’s ess oh you ell , brothers and sisters, with a capital ‘S’, The Supremes got together with The Temptations and nailed a version of The Weight for their joint 1969 LP Together that falls somewhere between Aretha ‘n Duane’s free ‘n funky version and the Heavyweight Championship of the World. Two vocal giants of soul slugging it out over 3 minutes of sitar-like guitar riffs, pitch-perfect harmonies (as you might expect) and sock it to ’em male/female call and response vocals. Knockout!

The Weight Trivia

Hairy old 70s rock bores Nazareth took their name from the song’s first line.

The track appears on the movie soundtrack for Easy Rider. In the movie, you hear The Band’s version, but on the soundtrack, due to legal bits ‘n pieces, the version you get is by the band Smith. No, me neither.

The Weight sits at No. 41 in Rolling Stone‘s 500 Greatest Songs Of All Time List.  That makes it better than Waterloo Sunset, but not quite as good as Dancing In the Street.

Bonus Track!

And hot off the press to boot! The Black Crowes played New York a couple of weeks ago and played their version of The Weight then.

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find, Peel Sessions

That’s When I Softly Sigh

Craig McAllister

Good evening children. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.

White Horses was a late 60s/early 70s TV show that readers here of a certain vintage will remember. I don’t, but I am more than familiar with the show’s theme tune, thanks in no small part to the Trashcan Sinatras and the lost art of the b-side. The original, sung by Jacky (real name Jackie Lee) is a light ‘n breezy affair, all mellow parping brass, plucked strings and perfectly e-nun-ci-ated vocals. Twee doesn’t even begin to describe it. Belle & Sebastian fans (d’you see what I did there?) probably rate it as crucial a record as there could possibly be. Tuck it just so under the sleeve of your duffle coat and pop on down to the University Cafe why don’t you?

Image stolen from Five Hungry Joes

The Trashcans take the original and give it the full-blown Cocteau Twins treatment – chiming 12 string guitars, a reverb-soaked vocal that has Frank Reader harmonising with himself throughout and a drum beat that is a sonic metaphor for those white horses that run wild and free in the Camargue in the south of France. The slide guitar that pops up in the middle is sublime – that’s when I softly sigh – sonic cathedrals of sound, man! Sonic cathedrals of sound. And they stuck it away on a b-side (see advert above). Criminal!

An unfamiliar-looking Wedding Present ground out a version for a late-era Peel session (July 2004) that has Gedge and co. twisting Jacky’s pop-lite original into something quite creepy and menacing that wouldn’t sound out of place on Twin Peaks. Adopting the standard indie blueprint of quiet-loud-quiet-louder, this is the sonic equivalent of a gnarly piece of wood – on first glance it looks ugly and out of place, but on closer inspection reveals itself to be a thing of rare beauty. Or something like that.

*Bonus Tracks!

The b-side to the Jacky original was another crackly curio called Too Many Chiefs (Not Enough Indians). If you listen carefully, it sounds a wee bit like the long-lost cousin of Tequila by The Champs. But just a wee bit.

In 1970, a guy called Gerald (not A Guy Called Gerald) gave White Horses the full Papa Smurf treatement. Listen to this once then bin the mp3 and go and wash your hands. Eugh!

demo, Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find, Live!

Legs & Co.

Craig McAllister

1! 2! 3! 4! See wee kids in Ramones t-shirts? Or young 20-something lassies wearing them as some sort of hip fashion statement? What’s all that about? I bet it does your head in as well. You knew this already, but looooong before The Ramones were a brand, they were a band. And quite possibly the most spine-tinglingly perfect four piece group there’s ever been. Feral and full-on, they were effortlessly chewin’ out the rhthym on a bubblegum while their contemporaries agonised over such grandiosities as lit-referencing lyrics and guitar solos.

1! 2! 3! 4! Or so we’re led to believe. It wasn’t that effortless, apparently. The stage routine was a strictly choreographed affair more in keeping with a Pans People Top Of The Pops routine. First verse – step forward. Jump. Chorus – head down, guitar up, left leg back. Second verse – walk back towards the drum kit . And so on and so on. Watch them on YouTube if you don’t believe me. And those dumb songs with the dumb chords and the dumb delivery? It’s hard being dumb in music, trust me. If you’ve ever played in bands you’ll know what I mean. Even the crappiest of bands can’t sound dumb. There’s always one flash bastard in the group who wants to be heard that wee bit longer, that wee bit louder than the others – the guitar intro, the guitar solo, the guitar outro. That was me. I couldn’t have played in The Ramones. No-one could. Any guitarist knows their way round a couple of barre chords, but no guitarist is happy churning out barre chords on stage for half an hour. They all want to fling in a teeny tiny wee widdly bit somewhere, even if it’s only them that notices. Or a minor chord. The Ramones were genius. Bass plays this part, guitar plays the same. The exact same. They came at you like a tank. Brutal and unforgiving. For every song. On every album. At every gig.

1! 2! 3! 4! And the lyrics – Who would ever dare write a song where the hook line between the chorus and second verse goes;

“Second verse, same as the first”

That’s genius, that is. In fact, nearly as genius as the next hook;

“Third verse, different from the first”

In any other band, the other members of the group would’ve clobbered the singer if he’d tried to get away with that. In its entire 1 and a half minutes, Judy Is A Punk also references the Berlin Ice Capades and the SLA (70s terrorist organisation dontchaknow), not so much finishing as self-imploding. Live, the songs came at you one after the other after the other after the other, punctuated by the odd “Wunchewfreefo!” and up the road.

1! 2! 3! 4! Oh to have been 17 in 77! I only caught The Ramones live once, at the Barrowlands in either 88 or 89 (I can’t be bothered looking for the ticket to check, but it’s there somewhere). I took my wee brother. It was his first gig and, carried away by the occassion, he managed to crowd surf for about 3 seconds before being manhandled by the bouncers onto (!) the stage, dragged past Joey “Hey! Looks like we got da fanclub in tanight!” and flung down a trapdoor on the stage (!), only to somehow reappear in the bar area downstairs where they sell t-shirts and stuff at gigs. I have a very vivid memory of being as close to the front as possible and looking up at Joey Ramone, a 9 foot high 2-legged giraffe, hanging onto the microphone stand like a hairy angle-poise lamp, legs akimbo and the drummer (Marky? Tommy? Who knows) flailing away in the background, somewhere between Joey’s kneecaps and beneath that ubiquitous Ramones logo. Magic.

1! 2! 3! 4! Da music:

Judy Is A Punk (1975 demo)

Judy Is A Punk (from the first Ramones album)

Judy Is A Punk (from It’s Alive, essential Ramones live anthology)

Pretty cool

demo, Hard-to-find, Studio master tapes, studio outtakes

Rolling Stones Jigsaw Puzzle

Craig McAllister

This is a re-post of sorts – the original files were long ago deleted, but it’s still one of the most Googled bits of music I’ve put on here. Now and again I get the odd email asking me to re-upload the tracks. Normally I never get round to it. But on this occassion I’ve relented…(not the complete mastertapes, mind, that’d take ages. Just the juicy bits)…

Original words ‘n pictures…

Gimme Shelter? Gimme, Gimme, Gimme!

July 8, 2008

Yes! It’s yet another of those fantastic studio master tapes that are all over the internet! It’s hard to top The Beatles Master Tapes. You might say they’ll never be topped. But this is a close second. Very close. This time it’s only THE STONES! THE ROLLING STONES! The master tapes of ‘Gimme Shelter’! Oh yes! No kidding! You may have these tracks already, cos they have appeared almost everywhere online, but I am aware that many visitors to this site come specifically to find studio gems such as these, so if you don’t have it, prepare to be dazzled. Daaaaaaaa-zzled!

A dazzled Mick. Camp? Moi?

Part 1. The History. ‘Gimme Shelter’ appeared on ‘Let It Bleed’ (the cake on the cover was made by Delia Smith, fact #1) and released in 1969. As you all know the song was the soundtrack to the end of the 60s. Rape, murder, it’s just a shot away, and all that. The Hells Angels murdered someone in the crowd at Altamont and the whole of the 60s went tits up and finished. Just like that. The decade that had started so brightly and full of hope ended (musically) on a sour note. But like I said, you all knew that.

Everyone waves bye bye to the end of the 60s

The song was written by Jagger and Richards. Jagger was getting lyrics together between takes of the film ‘Performance‘ that he was making at the time. Richards was playing about with the distinctive intro looking for a song to fit it. Et voila. Recording took place at Olympic Studios in London around February and March 1969 with Jimmy Miller producing. In one of those magical moments that occur now and again, Miller suggested getting a female vocalist to duet with Jagger. Cue Merry Clayton (incorrectly credited as Mary Clayton on the album, fact #2). Clayton’s high pitched, powerful vocal performance made the song. Her vocals are absolutely astounding.

Merry Mary Clayton

If you don’t believe me, here‘s the double tracked vocal-only performance. Just Jagger and Clayton battling it out. Listen out around the 3 minute mark as her voice cracks under the pressure and Jagger whoops a celebratory “Oh yeah!”. It. Is. Astonishing. Jagger later said of the finished track, “That’s a kind of end-of-the-world song, really. It’s apocalypse.” And the vocal track certainly backs this up. And if you liked that part enough….

Keith. 27th November 1969. 15 days after I was born. Fact #3

Part 2. The Bit You Came For.

The Rolling Stones astonishing vocal-only track of Gimme Shelter

The Rolling Stones – Keith’s guitar track of Gimme Shelter

(high quality wav file)

The Rolling Stones – Keith’s guitar track of Gimme Shelter

(bog standard mp3)

PLAYALONGAJAGGER/RICHARDS FOR 4 MINUTES!!!

Me. Yesterday.

Footnote. There have been many, many covers of ‘Gimme Shelter’. Merry Clayton did one herself. I don’t have my copy handy at present or I would’ve included it in this post. Suffice to say, a future ‘Gimme Shelter Covers‘ post is almost guaranteed. From the sublime to the ridiculous, they’ve all done it. Inspiral Carpets, Hawkwind with Sam Fox, Patti Smith, Voice Of The Beehive…..prepare to be irked.

Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

Brrrrr!

Craig McAllister

Cold, isn’t it? Here’s a couple of self-explanatory tracks and 2 versions of a hip jazz inflected talking blues reinterpreted as a Soul II Soul-style floor shuffler. Or something like that.

Fall Breaks And Back To Winter (also known as The Woodpecker Symphony) is something of an oddball in the Beach Boys‘ mighty canon. Made up of some of The Elements bits n bobs (Mrs O’ Leary’s Cow and Fire) from the abandoned Smile album, it features enough random claps n clatters and eee-long-gaaa-ted incidental backing vocals to suggest Brain Wilson was in full sandpit mode as the tapes rolled. None of the Smile LP really made it into the public domain the way its creator intended, but Fall Breaks And Back To Winter did pop up as the last track on 1967’s mainly terrific Smiley Smile. But you knew that already.

Peter Fonda, main protagonist of 60’s counter-culture California briefly fancied himself as a peace ‘n love balladeer. In 1968 he even went so far as to get Gram Parsons to write him a song and commit it to vinyl. Resplendent in the West Coast contemporary finery of 12 string guitars and tasteful Forever Changes-lite trumpets, November Night didn’t exactly set the heather on fire and Fonda went on to do what he would be best remembered for – producing and acting in Easy Rider.

Beatle fact – when he was 11, Peter Fonda accidentally shot himself. Recounting the tale to a roomful of Beatles,  John Lennon picked up on his “I know what it’s like to be dead” line and wrote She Said She Said.

Given that his Jamaican dad was nicknamed The Black Arrow and played in the 1950s Glasgow Celtic team, Gil Scott-Heron is best known in Scotland as the answer to numerous pub quizzes. 1974’s  Winter In America is the flute ‘n strings Blaxploitationesque jazzy track mentioned at the start. It’s groovy! Saint Etienne‘s version adds that early 90s shuffly Soul II Soul drum loop and a tastefully sampled brass section. It’s not Sarah Cracknell on vocals (Moira Lambert, I think) but it’s still pretty groovy too!

Winter’s here, folks. You’ll catch your death of cold, Sarah. Wrap up tight! Stay tuned.

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

I Got 96 Tears and 96 Eyes*

Craig McAllister

Right from the off, with its rinky dink 2 note Vox Continental organ riff and garage backbeat, 96 Tears is just about the perfect record. Released in 1966 by ? & the Mysterians, it was one of those songs like Louie Louie or Wild Thing that went on to be recorded by everyone and anyone with a fuzz guitar and a hip ear to the underground. It has in its time gone on to sell over a million copies and had over 3 million airplays.


Not bad for a band of Mex-Americans from Michigan with a love of surf music and a well thought out marketing ploy – have an unusual name and an even more unusual singer. It might’ve helped record sales when their lead singer claimed to be a martian who had lived with dinosaurs in a past life. Yep. Or when he claimed to have visited other planets and periods in time. Uh huh. I once had a drama teacher who would say to the class, “I‘m going to turn my back and when I turn around again, I’ll be in character….(….pause….)…Beowulf!!!” Rudy Martinez must’ve been a bit liked this.  He never went out without his sunglasses and only answered to his chosen moniker ‘?’, rather than his given ‘Rudy’, the name his mother preferred to shout when he was listening to his Van Morrison and Them records too loudly. If you’ve ever heard a ? and the Mysterians album, you’ll know how much a debt they owe to wee Van. If not, the ‘96 Tears‘ or ‘The Action‘ albums are good places to start.

96 Tears features regularly when my iPod is on shuffle. Most days will see an appearance of one version or another pop up. I’ve got what seems like 96 versions of it, most fairly pointless faithful recreations of the garage stomping original (Hello, Stranglers! Hello Music Explosion! I’m looking at you, Inspiral Carpets! You built an entire (early) career out of its Nuggety groove.) There’s one or two that take the original and mess with it so much, it just seems like the’d recorded a few minutes of pointless FM static and looped it ad infinitum (Hey there Primal Scream! Stop hiding at the back Suicide – how apt a name.)  Favourites?  Todd Rundgren‘s lo-fi fuzz-bassed studio demo is right up there, Aretha Franklin‘s soulful and (at first unrecognisable) version from Aretha Arrives is classic Aretha, with an almost Respect-like backing. Big Maybelle‘s a-whoopin’ and a-hollerin’ version, all Stax-inspired southern soul groove, underpinned by clipped guitars and a (bold as) brass section first came to my attention on 6 Music’s excellent Craig Charles’ Funk & Soul Show and has been on constant rotation ever since. Then there’s Gerardo Manuel & El Humo‘s super-heavy epic prog rock take. Think Iron Butterfly on jellies. It’s a grower, trust me!

Go fill yer boots…

96 Tears – ? & the Mysterians

96 Tears – Big Maybelle

96 Tears – Aretha Franklin

96 Tears – Gerardo Manuel & El Humo

96 Tears – Primal Scream

96 Tears – Inspiral Carpets

96 Tears – Music Explosion

96 Tears – Todd Rundgren

*…and I can’t believe I don’t have/can’t find a version by The Cramps, so here‘s Human Fly, featuring the line in the title at the top.

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

David Gedge! 25 Years In the Business! Yay!

Craig McAllister

Keeping It Peel is the brainchild of the good persons over at Football And Music. To honour the memory of the late great John Peel, Football And Music has decreed October the 25th “a sort of John Peel Day, but for bloggers.” Like many of the blogs listed on the Blogroll down there on the right, I’m in. It seems the right thing to do – as a music-obsessed teenager I listened religiously, finger sweating on the ‘pause’ button of my music centre waiting patiently to catch and magnetise some of those brilliantly weird and parent-bothering new sounds floating through the ether and onto my crappy cheap Boots C90s. I quickly developed the skill of being able to depress the ‘pause’ button in that wee space just between JP stopping talking and the record starting. In hindsight, I wish I’d been less skillful, as I’d love to listen back to those old tapes and be able to hear some of what he was saying. I still have some of the tapes up the loft. I should really get them down and have a wade through them sometime. Y’know, without John  Peel etc etc blah blah blah…

So, what to post? Much of the stuff I enjoyed on the Peel Show (roughly about 3 records an hour if I’m being honest) ended up being the stuff recorded by my future favourite bands. You know who they are, they’re the same as yours. I could be wilfully obscure or wilfully elitist, but in keeping with the unpretentious nature of the band I’ve chosen to feature, I won’t. The ubiquitous Fall may be forever linked-uh with John Peel, but to me The Wedding Present are just as big a deal – he gave them plenty of opportunity to record sessions for his show and they seemed to appreciated the platform he afforded them. Peel’s listeners clearly appreciated them too – they had a massive 45 tracks included throughout the years in Peel’s Festive 50s, a feat only bettered by, aye, The Fall.  And besides, David Gedge is the nicest pop star I’ve ever met – you can read all about it here.

Fan snap shot of The Wedding Present, Glasgow Barrowlands

(you can tell by the white tiles on the ceiling) 1988

Their session from the 24th May 1988 is my favourite Wedding Present Peel Session. This is the sound of a band no longe ramshacklingly scrubbing tinny guitars with brillo pads and replaying the reults through cheap amplifiers. This is the sound of a band who’ve managed to recreate their favourite sounds of alt. America in their live set – low rumbling bass that sounds as if it’s balls have dropped, meatier guitars played through proper amplifiers; tight, taut, tense, terrific. They would later go on to replicate this sound on their masterpiece LP, major label debut Bizarro (aye, forget the George Best album. No tears now.)

The 24.5.88 session is almost the perfect session. As was often the norm at these sessions, the band recorded 3 brand spanking new songs and one sparkling cover version. Nowadays, those three spanking new songs would be all over the internet the moment the last screech of feedback had died out and would have been digested, discussed and dissected by chat boards from Bradford to Berlin and beyond before breakfast. In pre-internet days, the C90 and your ‘pause’ button were your only friends. Fearful of taking a toilet break (Misty In Roots was my calling card every time), you captured what you could and replayed it the next day and more until the tape started to sound a bit wonky. Over time of course, this only added to the charm of a clandestinely captured Peel Session. It was often something of a shock to hear the ‘new’ song for the first time on the band’s album and finds that it didn’t slow down and speed up during the last chorus. Kids today with their mp3s, huh? They don’t know what they were missing. The 4 tracks I captured in all their hissy glory?

  1. Why Are You Being So Reasonable Now? (with ‘single‘ written through it like a stick of Blackpool rock, it was released on 7″ 4 months later. It even ended up being recorded and released in French)
  2. Unfaithful (workmanlike strumathon, eventually saw the light of day on the b-side of Kennedy (October 89 – Number 33  in the proper, real Hit Parade, pop pickers!)
  3. Take Me! (introduced by the DJ as Take Me, I’m Yours, released as Take Me! on Bizarro just under a year and a half later, this is a terrific indication of where the post George Best Wedding Present were heading (major labels, Steve Albini, America, Top of the Pops, my fanzine…))
  4. Happy Birthday (Altered Images cover, complete with Marilyn Monroe singing to JFK, “Happy Birthday Mr Pre.Si.Dent“. at the start)

Take Me, I’m Yours was my favourite. Over 8 minutes long, it featured an extended outro complete with Status Quo riffing, not the sort of thing expected from yer Wedding Present at all. The band must’ve been in on some Quo-related in-joke, for on Happy Birthday Gedge gleeefully shouts, “Status Quo, 25 years in the business!” and the band all cheer. It still tickles me today. The session tracks above are taken from my shiny, pristine Wedding Present Peel Sessions Box Set. Free of any FM hiss and missed guitar riffs they (cough…ahem) Present the Weddoes in the best possible way. I’m amazed that the Marilyn Monroe intro to Happy Birthday has been retained. I’d’ve thought that would’ve cost an arm and a leg to get the clearance for, perhaps even more than the expected return after selling however many copies of the box set they expected to sell. This music, after all, was recorded by a band who once sold a t-shirt proudly proclaiming in big black letters, ‘All The Songs Sound The Same‘. Who wants to sit through 12 John Peel Sessions over 6CDs in the one sitting? Only a fool. But a fool with particularly good taste.

The official Wedding Present website seems to be no more is here, and this excellent fan site has all you need and more. The image above, of David Gedge’s handwritten lyrics and guitar chords for Unfaithful and that shot of the band at the Barrowlands were taken from there. Thanks, Something And Nothing website!

*Bonus tracks!

Woah-woaw! Just cos it’s a cracker, here‘s The Wedding Present’s version of Orange Juice’s Felicity (Peel Session #1, 11th February 1986)

I used to have a few complete Peel Shows from the late 60s and early 70s which I’d have loved to make available for download here, but following the disaster that was the Great Hard Drive Crash of 2007, this is no longer possible. Instead, I offer you this – the complete 1971 David Bowie Peel Session. Some of this (crucially, not all of it) made it onto the Bowie At The Beeb CD set a few years back. Plenty of chat from Peel (and Bowie for that matter). Get it while you can.

Gone but not forgotten, Hard-to-find

I’m Immortal

Craig McAllister

Forget your Abbacadabras, your He-Bee Gee-Bees, your Bootleg Beatles even, the real tribute to any act is surely the tribute single – a pastiche-like dedication of another’s love for their favourite artist.

Elvis Herselvis

One of the first must certainly be Janis Martin‘s 1956 hit single ‘My Boy Elvis‘. Janis was only 15 when she recorded this slice of schlockabilly rockabilly – “He’s off like a rocket and there he goes, he rocks from his head down to his toes, My Boy Elvis, Real Rock!” Sounding like it came  from a Sam Phillips session straight outta Sun Studios, Elvis was so impressed he sent her a big bunch of flowers. Not casting aspertions or anything, but Elvis was quite keen on the younger ladies, so there could well have been an ulterior motive in his Southern man’s kindly gesture. As young Janis herself sings,  “All the teeners stop and shout when they open the curtain and he walks out.” Indeed they did.

John Paul George Ringo & Dora

Y’know, in 9 weeks time Old Santa Claus himself will be popping down yer chimney. Given that the odd advert or two has sneaked under the radar and onto the TV, it seems only fitting that Plain Or Pan brings you the first Christmas download of the year. In 1963, cashing in on that new-fangled beat music thing all the youngsters were getting in a froth over, actress Dora Bryan recorded a somewhat novelty record, ‘All I Want For Christmas Is A Beatle‘. Sung in mock-cockney and covered in BBC light entertainment syrupy strings, it‘s not the sort of record you’re likely to play ad nauseum. “Christmas comes but once a year, they’re really all the same. I never know just what I want, it really is a shame. Yesterday I saw something that is my pride and joy. I want it for Christmas….it’s a real live Liverpool boy!” You can probably guess the rest, although she never quite gets anything to rhyme with ‘Ringo’. It’s a curio all right,  best kept in that ‘Christmas Songs’ box you open but once a year if you’re lucky.

Not Dead Pop Stars

Much more up my alley (and yours too, you people of good good taste) is the post-punk pre-pop debut single by Altered Images, 1981’s ‘Dead Pop Stars‘. Atmospheric, spiky and proto-goth (aye!) it’s a mish-mash of all the great post punk bands of the day. 30 years later it sounds to me like the boys are trying hard at being Siouxsie’s Banshees while Clare Grogan spits most of the words like a stroppy Minnie Mouse version of PIL-era John Lydon. Which, it goes without saying, is fantastic. Ironically, the band got their break in 1980 after sending those very Banshees a tape and managed to blag a support slot on their Kaleidoscope UK tour. This video is from that very tour;

Incidentally…

  1. That blurry Polaroid of Altered Images live came from a brilliant fanziney website here. Worth 5 minutes of anyone’s time.
  2. Altered Images bass player Johnny McElhone holds some sort of record, having played in 3 different bands that have had Top 20 hits – Altered Images, Hipsway and Texas.
  3. The drummer in one of the later Altered Images line ups came into the Our Price shop I worked in one day. I didn’t know this until he asked to order an obscure Afrika Bambaataa 12″. “Why d’you want that?” I asked out of genuine interest. “Because he’s nicked my drums for it and hasn’t asked my permission!” “Oh, you’re a drummer…who for? etc etc” Nowadays he’s the guy who announces the passenger safety notice on the Ardrossan-Arran ferry. And that’s a fact!
Hard-to-find, studio outtakes

A Hunka Funkadelic

Craig McAllister

In Rolling Stone magazine’s uber-list of the Top 100 Greatest Guitar Songs Of All Time, sandwiched at number 60 between Jeff Beck’s Freeway Jam and Steve Cropper’s chops on Sam & Dave’s Soul Man you’ll find Eddie Hazel’s frazzled contribution to the title track of Funkadelic‘s Maggot Brain.

The (Maggot) brainchild of George Clinton, Funkadelic drew on music from every sphere, more often than not with electrifying results. Nothing was off-limits – when Clinton was in the studio cooking up his own particular blend of soup, into the pot would go 500ml of straight ahead doo-wop,  followed by 2 dessert spoonfuls of wild, freaked-out screaming guitar, a token pinch of acoustic balladeering and a generous dollop of gospel-tinged soul…often within the same song.

During the sessions for 1971’s Maggot Brain, George Clinton famously told guitarist Eddie Hazel to play as if he’d just found out his mother had died. For the next 10 minutes, Hazel wrung every drop of emotion from his guitar as Clinton manned the mixing desk, gradually fading out the rest of the band when he heard just how good the guitar playing was. While My Guitar Gently Weeps, and all that. It goes on and on. Self-indulgent and sustained by subtle Cry Baby wah, notes bend and vibrate, the whole thing ebbing and flowing, twisting and turning until Hazel finally goes and spoils it all by giving birth to the Red Hot Chili Peppers right there and then. He couldn’t know that at the time, of course, and Clinton, as much a visionary as he is, would’ve had no idea that his group of seriously funky black dudes would be the inspiration for some seriously flunky blank duds 20 or so years later.

Contrast and compare 2 versions of Maggot Brain: yer common or garden album version and yer original, un-faded mix, replete with random cymbal crashes, bass parts and the likes.

If you’ve never heard Funkadelic, Maggot Brain is a good starting point. Clinton’s kitchen sink mentality of flinging every possible musical genre into the mix and seeing what sticks is prevalent throughout. If you have heard Maggot Brain, you’ll know what I mean. But you might not have heard these tracks…

Whole Lot Of BS was the b-side of album single Hit It & Quit It.

I Miss My Baby was recorded at the Maggot Brain sessions.

I Call My Baby Pussycat (Is it funk? Soul? Retro-Hendrix riffing? Far-out gospel-tinged madness? Yes! Yes! Yes! And yes! From the America Eats Its Young album)

Like these? Seek out Free Your Mind And Your Ass Will Follow. It’s even better than it sounds.

*Bonus Track!

In 1994 George Clinton got together with the post-Screamadelica Primal Scream. A good match, you’d think. The Clinton influence is clearly there – Funkadelic/Screamadelic – come on! and both artists have impeccable musical taste, but the results were a bit disappointing to these ears. Whereas Funkadelic were a black band who could play rock music, Primal Scream were a peely wally rock band who thought they could play black music. And there’s the difference. Funky Jam‘s not bad, but I doubt George Clinton rates it as highly as anything else in his unique catalogue of work.

Just to jab the eye of any doubters, Funkadelic even wrote a song called Who Says A Funk Band Can’t Play Rock? It‘s magic.  Bobby G has still to write the Primal Scream classic Who Says A White Band Can’t Play TotalPunkSoulFunkAcidHousePsychoGarageSpeedFreakbeatStoogesMC5StaxMotownCrampsnEddie CochranAwopbobaloobobawopbamboo. But he’d like to.