Cover Versions, Hard-to-find

Roky III

Craig McAllister

I must admit, I was very late to the party. I first heard of the 13th Floor Elevators when Primal Scream covered Slip Inside This House on the epoch-defining Screamadelica. A couple of years later I first heard what they sounded like via the original Nuggets album. You’re Gonna Miss Me sounded like The Who’s Can’t Explain sung half in menace, half in mayhem by a singer clearly over the moon and under the influence (the more canny amongst you may well spot that reference). The Nuggets albums opened a whole new musical world to me and I’ve soaked up everything from them ever since. So, better late than never, a few short years ago I finally bought The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators.

Roky I (2nd right)

Re. Ve. Lay. Shun! They say there’s two types of music; music you’ve heard and music you haven’t. Where had this band been all my life? What were they up to now? The answer to the first question was obvious – they had always been there, I just hadn’t been looking. What they were up to now was a bit harder to ascertain. Lead singer Roky Erickson had spent large chunks of his time in psychiatric institutions. The 13th Floor Elevators’ music wasn’t psychedelic for nothing y’know. Their name was inspired by the fact that most buildings rarely had a 13th floor – hotel floors typically went 11, 12, 14, 15 and so on. The 13th letter of the alphabet is ‘M’. As in ‘mescaline‘ or ‘marijuana‘. If you wanted to reach both the 13th floor and previously uncharted levels of consciousness, Roky reckoned you had to get high and to listen to his music. Being a champion of LSD, mescaline, marijuana etc etc had turned poor Roky into the lysergically-laced groovy uncle of Julian Cope and he was, quite frankly, off his tits.

Roky II

Roky has since returned to some form of normality and some form of music. Now under the legal custody of his brother, he is being looked after and given the medical care that he needs. In 2007 he played at both Coachella and in London. In 2008 he appeared on Mogwai’s Batcat ep. This year he has released an album, True Love Cast Out All Evil, backed by fellow Texans Okkervil River. What I’ve heard of it is (disappointingly) a million miles away from the Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators, but it’s better this than nothing at all, eh? Aye, I’m looking at you Lee Mavers. And you too Barrett, even if you are dead. You had plenty of time to do something, anything.

A portrait of the artist as a young man

Roky also releases albums online via his Roky Erickson CD Club. One of those albums has been that debut 13th Floor Elevators album recast in mono. In mono! Oh yeah! The Monodelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators comes at you like a train, relentless and unforgiving. It sounds fantastic. Here’s 3 tracks for you. If you’ve never heard the 13th Floor Elevators before, this is as good a place to start as any. Remember, it’s never too late.

You’re Gonna Miss Me

Reverberation

Fire Engine

Bonus stuff.

Here‘s Primal Scream‘s Slip Inside This House. Though if you haven’t got it/heard it by now, I’m surprised you’re even reading this. Now compare with the original, from the Elevators’ Easter Everywhere album. I love Primal Scream’s version. Druggy, fuggy and right on the button. With the programmed bassline and rinky dink pianos it sounds contemporary and fresh, but I like that they’ve used the percussion to try and recreate the bonkers jug band blues of the original. Any comments?

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

King Curtis (part 1)

Craig McAllister

If such a thing as a Definitive List of Legends In Music existed you can bet your life the usual suspects of DylanLennonMcCartneyJagger’nthat would be on it. Some may argue for the inclusion of WonderBowieMarley(insertyerown) too, but I doubt that many people would immediately add Curtis Mayfield to the list.

Poor Curtis hasn’t had it easy in the ‘legend‘ stakes. You want socio-political commentary? You’ve got Stevie Wonder. You want a string-swept soul? You’ve got Marvin Gaye. You want the funk? You’ve got James Brown. Curtis Mayfield did all this and more. With The Impressions he was there at the birth of soul music. He’s written for others. He’s produced others. He had his own publishing compnay. He had his own record companies. Yeah, that’s companies, plural. He was the complete package, yet in the grand scheme of things he rarely gets spoken about in the same reverential tones as those contemporaries mentioned above. Plain and simply, the genius of Curtis Mayfield has been too often overlooked.

Genius is a word banded about willy-nilly these days. If you must, listen to Fearne Cotton or Dermot O’ Leary or any of those radio presenters and I can guarantee that within 5 minutes you’ll hear them attribute the word ‘genius‘ to whatever is currently the pick of the pops. Go on, I dare you. The dictionary defines genius as, “A person of extraordinary intellect and talent.” So, Fearne ‘n Dermot, you’re wrong about Plan B and Kasabian and Beyonce (although, Kasabian excepted surely, they might have their moments.) Use the word wisely, or not at all, that’s all I’m saying. 

“One is not born a genius, one becomes a genius.” Simone de Beauvoir said that. But you knew that already. Over time, Curtis most certainly did become genius. From doo-wop, gospel inflected beginnings, via straight ahead soul, he arrived at this, 8 minutes of bona fide soul genius (yes!) It’s called (Don’t Worry) If There’s Hell Below We’re all Gonna Go, it is extraordinary and it is the first track on the album pictured above. Seek it out, you’ll like it. With Curtis, you’re never too far from a wocka-wocka-wocka wah-wah guitar and he’s seen no reason to change that winning formula here. Taking his cue from the Book Of Revelations and underpinned by the sleaziest, meanest fuzz bass you’ll ever hear, strings sweep and brass blows as Curtis adds his heavily echoed sweet falsetto to the mix. It’s a fantastic arrangement. Brian Wilson always gets the ‘Legend‘ status when it comes to arranging, but (Don’t Worry)… proves that Mayfield is right up there with him. He must’ve known too when he was recording it that he was making such a monumental track. Listen to this, takes 1 and 2 of the backing tracks. No vocals, just the music in all it’s glory. You can imagine everyone gathered round the speakers in the control room as it plays, Curtis nodding his head in quiet satisfaction. Dig it, Brothers and Sisters!

Bonus Track

As you well know, Curtis Mayfield did the soundtrack to Superfly. Here‘s the demo of opening track, Little Child Runnin’ Wild, known as Ghetto Child at the demo stage.

…and here’s Curtis doing the Snoop Dogg-sampling Give me Your Love, live somewhere, sometime in ’72.

(Listen to the Bathtub intro section on Doggystyle)

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

The Tie’s The Limit

Craig McAllister

Listening to the radio whilst driving up combinations of the M5, M6 and M74 yesterday on a gruelling 9 hour trip from the sunny South of England I was reminded hourly of the sad death of Alex ‘Hurricane’ Higgins. As I drove home I wrote in my head the words here that fire forth from my fingers.

The Hurricane

Like many people in the 80s, I was gripped by the TV spectacle that was the snooker. Not snooker. That was something else. No, ‘the’ snooker. That’s how we referred to it. A game brought back from the dead-end of the working man’s club and the seedier side of life was arguably as big then as the English Premiership is nowadays. Instead of your Rooneys and John Terrrys, it was your Reardons and Terry Griffiths that were the household names in those days. Alex Higgins was different to his contemporaries in every way. Rough, ready and rakish, he brought punk attitude to the tables. He refused to wear a bow tie (de rigeur in those days) as he claimed it itched his neck. He  head butted a judge when asked to provide a urine sample. He took drugs. He smoked at the side of the tables. He drank like the ubiquitous fish and he played fast. Very fast. Hence the ‘Hurricane’ nickname.

The Hurricane came out the traps like a bolt of electricity. You know those short, short gaps between the songs in a Ramones live set?  He could muster up a double figure break in roughly the same time. Remember too, that this was the era of table bores like Steve Davis. A Rick Wakeman keyboard solo could’ve passed in the time it took Davis to consider all possibilities and all angles before lining up one of his defensive shots. Higgins was all about death or glory. If he was a rock star, he’d have been like Keith Richards or The Clash or Them the New York Dolls or any of those bands who meant it 100%. His life was snooker and snooker was his life. He earned and spent an estimated £4 million in his liftetime. Spent the lot. Drugs, drink, gambling, you name it. This time last week he was living in sheltered housing, penniless, toothless and 6 stones in weight, snooker cue-thin. A tragic waste of a life. Look at the picture above and remember him like that, eh?

The Music Bit

Here‘s Neil Young doing a live verson of Like A Hurricane. Taken from the excellent Rock ‘n Roll Cowboy 4 Cd bootleg, I’m not sure where it was recorded, but it’s a cracker. Neil Young, Crazy Horse and a million amps turned up to 11.

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

Shhh! It’s So Quiet You Could Hear A Name Drop

Craig McAllister

Last week I was contacted out of the blue by an editor asking if I would write him some stuff for the forthcoming Vintage At Goodwood festival – the one where the Faces with Mick Hucknall-as-Rod are playing. To cut a long story short, I interviewed both Martyn Ware (Human Leage/Heaven 17) and Sandie Shaw. Sandie (as I can now call her) phoned me at home and we spoke about her role curating an event at the Vintage Festival.  Amongst the many things we talked about, it transpired that she was unaware that Elvis‘ version of Hound Dog was not the original version, merely a watered-down, revved-up pop version of Big Mama Thornton’s old blues original. 

After Elvis appeared from outta nowhere and hit the music world like a comet from Mars, songwriters from every corner bombarded him with their compositions in the hope that Elvis Himselvis could do what they couldn’t – turn the song into a nationwide hit. This usually came at a price, as Colonel Tom Parker would demand Elvis’ name be added as songwriter and that the song be published by Elvis’ own publishing company. Look in the brackets under the song titles. All those songs – Heartbreak Hotel, Don’t Be Cruel, Love Me Tender, (and there’s more) weren’t actually written or even co-written by Elvis, but that was the pay-off if you wanted him to sing your song. Heavyweights like Leiber and Stoller were established enough not to have to buckle under the force of the Colonel’s muscle, but most others did.

Without insulting your intelligence, you will know that there have been a gazillion versions of Elvis songs over the years.  Off the beaten track and slightly left of centre, here’s another two that you may not be aware of.

Firstly, Dean Carter‘s screamin’ and a hollerin’ garage rockabilly surf version of Jailhouse Rock. Welding together what sounds like primitive morse code, the drums from Wipeout, the piano riff from Let’s Dance (the Hey baby won’t you take a chance version, not the Bowie track of the same name) and the sound of a 7 year old being let loose on an electric guitar with a spanner-as-plectrum, it comes at you at 100 mph breathless, breakneck speed and sounds quite insane. Richard Hawley probably loves this record. You’ll like it too.

Secondly, no less intense is Buddy Love‘s take on Heartbtreak Hotel. More structured perhaps, than Dean Carter’s record above, Love sounds like an amphetamine-crazed matinee idol, barking over the top of skronking sax, freakbeat drum breaks and handclaps. Man! I love handclaps on records! Tarantino could do worse than consider this version for the soundtrack to a pivotal scene in his next movie.   

Bonus Track!

Recorded live a mere 54 years ago at the birth of rock ‘n roll in the New Frontier Hotel, Vegas on May 6th 1956, “He’s a fine young lad and a fine young talent,” it’s young Elvis Himselvis’ version of Heartbreak Hotel.  Of course, Elvis would be back in Vegas 20  years later; bloated, burnt out and bereft of decent ideas, but this is the classic version played by the classic line-up – DJ Fontana on drums, Bill Black on bass and Scotty Moore on guitar. Listen out for the ‘Heartburn Motel’ line he sneaks in near the end.

 

demo, Hard-to-find, Kraut-y, Sampled, studio outtakes

Meaty, Beaty, Big & Bouncy

Craig McAllister

Here’s a thing. Ask people to describe the music of the Stone Roses and most will wax lyrical about melody, tunes, 60s influenced pop and all that. Maybe they’ll drop in a hip reference to The Theme from Shaft by way of Electric Ladyland, or if they’re super-hip they’ll point out just how similar Fools Gold is to Can‘s I’m So Green – all skittering drums, whispered vocals and taught elastic bassline over a one-chord groove. Listen for yourself here.

But anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Today, I want you to reappraise what, to me, is the jewel in the Stone Roses particularly shiny crown. It’s not the saccahrine rush of She Bangs The Drums or the euphoric highs of Made Of Stone or the total groove lockdown of Fools Gold. Nope. The Stone Roses record that does it for me everytime is Something’s Burning, little-played and little-loved b-side of One Love.

Ever since the album and accompanying b-sides were re-released last year, this track has taken on a new lease of life for me. If the original album was the sound of a band gliding effortlessly over and beyond all musical competition, the remastered album was the sound of a jet plane landing in your back garden – terrifyingly loud and absolutely thrilling. Weedy, thin-sounding tracks suddenly came alive. Full of depth, muscle and bite, Something’s Burning now had a jungle pulse bassline that sounded as if it came from the heart of Africa itself. This track isn’t an ‘instant’ track. On first listen 20 years ago it sounded rather one dimensional and uninspiring, but I’m glad I’ve rediscovered it.

Unlike the instant hit you get with all other Stone Roses material, repeated plays of Something’s Burning reveal new things. Amongst the skittering drums, whispered vocals and taught elastic bassline over a one-chord groove…HEY! hang on a minute!….listen closely and you’ll hear some jazzy vibraphone, bongos and some fine understated John Squire guitar riffing. The track ebbs and flows, rises and falls, and on my original vinyl copy the dynamics of this are lost somewhat amongst the snaps and crackles in the grooves. Not so the new-improved version.  

*Bonus Tracks

Something’s Burning demo – Well dontchaknowit – it begins with the same looped and sampled Funky Drummer break that accompanied Fools Gold!

Something’s Burning (jam and chat)  – hidden track (yeah!) on Disc 2 of the Stone Roses remastered album. 

And just so you know….

But you knew that already.

Cover Versions, demo, Hard-to-find, studio outtakes

Run Run Run Run Run Run Run Run Run Run Run Run!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Craig McAllister

Quadruple whammmy of sorts of The Velvet Underground‘s hypnotic and practically one-chord feedback-fest, Run Run Run.

First up, an original rare as could be 1966 acetate version by Warhol’s lapdogs themsleves. Recorded by Norman Dolph at Scepter Studios in NYC this rough demo version (complete with snaps, crackles and all manner of pops) was long-forgotten about until a passerby with a keen nose for musical history sniffed out the one and only acetate of the session (above) on a Chelsea (not London) street vendor’s record stall. The lucky so-and-so paid just 75 cents for it and ended up selling it for $25,000 on eBay. The definitive full account of finding the acetate can be read here. Do yourself a favour and click. It’s well worth taking the time to read. Then start pondering. Why don’t people sell stuff like this on the streets where I live?

Next, a  faithful, fantastically feedback soaked version by Argentine garage band Capsula. Clearly influenced by yer Velvets, Stooges, and all manner of tub-thumping garage rockers, they’ve been staple features of SXSW for the past couple of years. This version is taken from a low-key 2007 Velvet Underground tribute album. Look at the picture above. You know how its going to sound.

You probably have the next version already. Taken from Beck‘s excellent Record Club series where he and some pals play and record a classic album in it’s entirety, this version replaces the original’s guitar maelstrom with analoguey synth bleeps and bloops. A bit like Stereolab. In fact, a big bit like Stereolab. But you knew that already.

Lastly, we have the Strange Boys. This track isn’t actually a cover of Run Run Run, but it might as well be. Wearing their influences proudly on their skinny-fit sleeves, the Texans are unashamedly retro to the core. If you’re a fan of Nuggetsy garage band stuff or Television or The Strokes (and isn’t it all the same thing anyway?), their Strange Boys..and Girls album from a year or so ago is well worth seeking out. Probation Blues, the Run Run Run-alike is taken from the self-same LP. You’d probably like their latest offering, Be Brave, as well.

In ironic fashion I was also going to put up LCD Soundsystem’s ‘Drunk Girls’ . But you know what that sounds like anyway, probably got it too. If so, you’ll be well aware of the debt it owes not to the VU track featured above, but to the Velvet’s White Light, White Heat. I love the track, I really do, but come on man! Blatant rip off. Or just plain theft. Ach! What goes around comes around ‘n all that jazz. And we won’t even mention Jason Pierce or Spiritualised. No. We won’t. But we will direct you to this unbelievable slab of faux-stoned vinyl copyism…

Whisper it – I love this track too. And John Cale got a writing credit anyway. What’s the big deal?

Football

Pretty Girls, Pretty Boys, Have You Ever Heard Your Mama Say Noise Annoys?

Craig McAllister

Aye. Noise annoys. If you’re having a rare old time watching the World Cup but because of this you feel you don’t have the time to catch up on reading your favourite blogs, why not combine the 2 by clicking here.

Thanks to the good people over at the Teenage Fanclub forum for the tip. Argentina to win by the way. Definitely not yer Engerlaha-ha-ha-nd.

entire show, Live!

Get Back! Get Back! Get Back to where you once belonged!

Craig McAllister

You may have noticed things have been a bit quiet ’round here lately. An extreme bout of lethargy/cannae be arsedness coupled with actual real work being a bit hectic has lead to a slow down in the proceedings. But, for what it’s worth, I can safely say “I’m back“. So too, you probably noticed, is old thumbs aloft himself, the strangely auburn-coiffured Paul McCartney.

 Beatle Bum

I gulped a huge gulp back in March when I hit ‘return‘ and ordered 3x £85 tickets. I nearly refused to pay in private protest at what could only be described as extortion. A superstar going through a high profile divorce meant only one thing – in a round about way I was paying for his youngest daughter’s designer clothing and private schooling. But just as quickly as I thought this, I thought of myself moping around the house on the night of the gig and how I wish I’d just gone. My 15 year old self did this very thing when The Smiths rolled up to my hometown as part of their Meat Is Murder tour. “Oh mama, let me go!“. “OK“. “Really? I thought you’d say no.” So, just to be contrary, I didnae go. 25 years later, it still tortures me. So really, there was no way I’d miss this. And thank fuck (sorry) I didn’t.

After sitting through Sharleen Spiteri’s Asda Price Stax/Volt Revue – group dressed by Top Man, mind stopped from wandering purely by ogling the highly shaggable Spiteri (sorry again – to paraphrase one of our Scottish politicians, it must be this hot weather), McCartney came wandering onstage to huge applause. A brief malfunctioning guitar meant that he started with a hiccup rather than a bang, but once he was off and running……. oh man…..he was really off and running!

Little Beatle Paul in his little Beatle Boots

For as long as I’ve been into music, I’ve obsessed over these songs and here they were being played out right in front of me, 12 rows from the front of the stage, no need at all for that big video screen just there. I’m into double figures for Dylan gigs. Old Bob expects you to sit there and listen in reverential silence as his ever-decreasing-in-talent pub band grind their way through another 12 bar version of Maggies Farm. I’ve seen the Stones, Jagger and Richards playing some pantomime version of the ugly sisters as they karaoke their way through their back catalogue. McCartney knows exactly what his audience are here for and he stands and delivers. From backbeat boot stomping Cavern Classics (All My Loving) to White Album genius (Blackbird, Back In The USSR, Helter!! fucking!! Skelter!! (sorry again) to Wings Greatest Hits, it sounds amazing. The band replicate every last note, every last harmony and even when McCartney hits the bum notes on the piano during Let It Be, or fluffs some finger picking on Blackbird, or goes a bit flat on the harmonies of Paperback Writer (really!), it makes it somehow all the more real. Live. In front of you. It’s like going to see the Bootleg Beatles, except, well, it’s almost yer actual Beatles.

(my own video – link newly uploaded – may take a few minutes before it works)

Highlights were too numerous to list – but the whooshing jet sound at the start of Back In The USSR had the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention. Live And Let Die‘s firework n flames display almost set fire to the same hairs a few minutes later. Even the toasted cheese on top – a pipe band marching on halfway through Mull Of Kintyre was gobsmackingly magic. The whole thing finished with the Sgt Peppers reprise before segueing into The End, complete with drum solos, rocktastic duelling guitars (no bass, as you’ll see from the video clip below – weirdly I had to upload it to YouTube before I could show it here) and the final harmonies from a croaking Paul McCartney. Really, this show was over the top brilliant. But, if you’ve read this far you knew that already.

 

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make