Taylor Swift Review at Hyde Park 2015

TAYLOR SWIFT – HYDE PARK 27th June 2015

(Reposted from 2015) And it came to pass; Taytay hit the London BST festival in Hyde Park. I was there, the sun was there, my two pre-teen daughters were there and, er, 64,997 others.

Yes that white dot is Taylor. She couldn't see me very well, either.

Taylor Swift has re-invented herself in the last few years from curly haired country singer doing spots in the Hannah Montana movie, to a global, all conquering pop princess.

Now I have a confession; this isn’t the first time I’ve seen Ms. Swift perform. I went along to the O2 last Feb to see the tail end of her Red Tour. My house and car – if my daughters have anything to do with it, and they do - reverb to the sounds of Taylor 24/7. I’ve become a Swiftie by osmosis. Perhaps there’s an element of Stockholm syndrome…

We got to Hyde Park early, just as the gates opened. I’d bought premium view tickets, an exclusive enclosure in front of the sweating hordes pressed against the barriers. Got some laminates with a map and timings to hang around our necks. Pint of cider and two J2Os secured, we settled down to watch the support acts.

Support Acts

Newbie Rae Morris started things off, she was good though she did sometimes waver out of tune. I’m glad she played her hit Under The Shadows (though inexplicably not Cold) and so escaping the curse of the under card. Riptide bloke played Riptide. We were out in the park getting Rendang at the time and so missed all of it apart from the last chorus. I feel okay about that. John Newman, doing some nifty dance moves, was somewhat miffed the crowd wasn’t noisier for him. Well mate, write some better songs and have a few more hits and you’ll get the accolade you feel you deserve. Case in point; his one decent hit – Love me again – was well received. Rightly. Ellie Goulding, on the other hand, was simply great throughout. I thought she’d be all fey and fairy voiced but she belted out the hits and jumped around like an excited kid. A major artist in her own right, she knew her subsidiary place in this park of Swifties and so worked the crowd. We enjoyed her….

Taylor Appears!

By now it was nudging eight o’ clock, it was as busy as hell and, even in the Premium area, viewing the stage was difficult. No sitting down and casually watching anymore. And then there she was – in one scream of adolescent hi-octane rush, Taylor came out fifteen minutes early and went all Welcome to New York on our asses.

Now, if you want a review about the costume changes, the stage backdrops, the dancers, you’re in the wrong place, as I don’t especially give a toss. Sorry. I liked the catwalk, I liked it even better when it took off into the air and Taylor floated above us (camera ready kids!). Her ‘celeb’ friends – couldn’t name them, no idea who they are – came on during Style. Whatever. The scene that celebrates itself.

Taylor.

But to the music… Well, I was worried because at Radio 1’s Big Weekend in Norwich a month ago, Taylor seemed a little underpowered and her voice, never especially strong, was weaker than ever. Well, not last night and not in Hyde Park. She carried the show with her musical chops (some guitar, some piano, lots of dancing, plenty of face voguing to the camera). She was on fine form.

Taylor Talks..

No review of a Taylor Swift gig would be complete without mentioning Taylor’s ramblings. Yes, she likes to talk to her audience. A lot. She speaks with the certainty and earnestness of youth about friendship, boyfriends, female empowerment, Instagram, cats; that sort of thing. I thought she pushed this soliloquising about as far as it could go last night. If it weren’t so crowded that would have been my cue for a toilet break or beer run. Her legion of young fans seem to like it though. She speaks to them.

The set list was principally from her latest album 1989 with a few – a very few – vintage hits for us older folk who remember all the way back to 2012. I Knew You Were Trouble was slowed down for the first half before speeding up. It didn’t work for me; you don’t mess with class lightly. A much better reinvention was We Are Never Getting Back Together, which saw a leather clad Taylor grunge up her breakthrough hit. She powered out chunky chords like Pete Townsend in a bad mood. She didn’t windmill the guitar but she snarled through this teeny tale as though she was the Who roaring through My Generation. One for the dads. Love Story was the reworked version which me and the kids – being Swifties – have seen endless times on YouTube. But it was good to have her floating above us as she sang.

Taylor on the elevated walkway.

Of the newer stuff, Blank Space, Bad Blood, Out of the Woods, all rocked. Two hours in and an extended Shake It Off, officially now a classic, had 65,000 people, word perfect, chanting along to THIS…SICK… BEAT. Are you paying attention John Newman? You earn your applause. Taylor’s got the songs, the attitude and, despite being ridiculously young, has religiously worked herself up to this high plateau. As Taylor said, amongst many other things, she will remember this night for the rest of her life.

Thing is, will it be to remember the moment when she was on top of the mountain or, has she hills yet to climb?

I’m so profound sometimes it literally hurts. It really does.

RANDOM SNAPSHOTS

1)   Food. Street food, of course; lots of pulled this and wood fired that. I had a vegan rendang. The rendang stall woman being surprised my kids not only wanted, but loved, rendang. Used to it. Fav dish. I cook! I score!

2)   Great weather. A sun-cream day for the balding pate.

3)   The two for one provision of female:male toilets being buggered up by a whole block of female loos being out of action most of the day. Epic fail, organisers!

4)   The drunken girl honking up on the floor as 65,000 people passed her on the way out. Pull yourself together woman – this is a Taylor Swift gig FFS.

5)   The flashing wristbands we all wore. Given out free at the gate. We all glowed in synchronised unity during Taylor's set. 

6)   My knowledge of Belgravia helping the kids and me get to and from Hyde Park in record time. I am my own hero.

7)   The look on my youngest child’s face when she realised she was actually seeing Taylor Swift in the flesh. Yes, Taylor Swift! She really exists.

8)   My kids liked it when Taylor’s mum ran past us a couple of times. Ah, our so close brush with celebrity! (Did I tell you I once bumped into Madonna in Cipriani’s?)

9)   Two songs into Taylor’s set, re-affirming the old truth, retreat and see more! The back of our exclusive enclosure was sparsely populated. Much better views. Certainly much better than the crowds penned in behind us.

10) My kids posting their pictures on Instagram. The concert now ‘officially’ exists.

The Franco's Fiesta fans are held back by security and a well placed barrier.

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Blues in a long overcoat from Chicago

Tim Robson plays the blues, Chicago 1996

“Ladies and gentlemen, Kingston Mines is pleased to invite on stage from London, England, Mr Eric Clapton!”

And so was I announced to a smattering of applause from the 2am drinkers still sentient after a night of blues and beer in downtown Chicago. Dressed in a long overcoat. And scarf.

Kingston Mines, Chicago? Eric Clapton? Explain Tim

It’s well known, by those who are in the know, that Tim Robson knows the blues. I wake up in the morning and there is Mr Blues waiting on my pillow. I might not be off share cropping but man, that 7:41 to Victoria commute is a bitch. It was what the blues was built on.

Back when time was young and I was in corporate real estate, my bosses in the global company I worked for had their head office in Chicago. So when they held a conference, to O’Hare I was summoned. Not that I minded; I was young, between addresses, flying business class and had two pressing objectives on my mind.

1) I wanted a hotdog. Chicago’s the birthplace of the hotdog, right?

2) I wanted to go to a blues club. Chicago’s the birthplace of electric blues, right?

3) Yeah. You know what three is. More about that later.

Tequila Madness in Suburban Chicago

It was Christmas. Chicago was cold and snowy. On the second night the senior VP invited us around to his house in the suburbs for a festive celebration. All the houses were lit up like a Home Alone homage. The wind blew and the snow fell fitfully as the limo sped to his house.

There were buckets of beer. I helped myself. I had a colleague from Singapore who did the same job as me in her region. I was surprised, pleasantly of course, to find that Suzie was pretty damn attractive. That attractiveness increased throughout the evening as the bucket of beer was steadily emptied. She was fun, also looking for a good time once we’d done with the party which - wouldn’t you know - was full of corporate stiffs wanting to talk about real estate. Fuck that! I was here to party.

One cloud spotted my horizon. My American counterpart Jeff (or whatever his fucking name is, it’s a long time ago. Jeff will do.) was also much attracted to Suzie. He had poise, good looks and an easy mid western manner. Single as well, bastard. I’d try to corner Suzie in a room and lo! there was Jeff, all teeth and good humour. The urge to recede into beta-ness is strong.

But I was lucky that night. We had some sort of party game and I won a bottle of tequila. Of course, we three thought it a good idea to start doing shots. After a few of these I explained that I wanted to split and head to downtown Chicago and get that hot dog I wanted. And then watch some blues in a dive club somewhere.

Yes, let’s do that said Jeff and Suzie and so we made our excuses - ‘you’re boring fuckers and we're off to get wrecked mofos’ - and got in taxi and headed downtown.

Into the Club. Hotdog.

Pitched out somewhere in a wintry central Chicago, I located a hotdog joint and indulged my first passion. Yum! Loved it. It went down fast. One craving satisfied it was time to indulge in number two on my list in order to get number three. Somehow, stumbling through the night, we ended up in Kingston Mines blues club. It wasn’t busy but, there again, it wasn’t that early by the time we rolled in.

The house band was playing some uptempo ‘modern’ blues. Not Howlin’ Wolf or John Lee Hooker. Whatever. We took seats at the bar to watch. Music playing, Jeff and I spent most of our time trying to outdo the other as we competed for Suzie’s affections. I think at one point Jeff started to get the upper hand. Same old. Same old. So, this being the case, the beer and tequila decided I needed to let slip to Suzie that I played in bands back in the UK. How were they to know my bands were crap? Oasis weren’t worried.

Suzie seemed impressed. Very impressed. Jeff looked annoyed. Good. Suzie was so enthusiastic she rushed off to the stage and when the song ended, had a word with lead guitarist. They chatted for a while and I could see her pointing in my direction. Oh dear. I could see where this was going.

And then I was announced onto stage. Suzie had said jokingly, I was Eric Clapton. I don’t think anyone believed her. There I was in a long overcoat. Scarf. Pissed out my head. Better looking.

Reluctantly - well not really - I’m an incorrigible show off - I swayed to the stage. A few of the drunks at other tables clapped. The guitarist gave me his guitar and I strapped it on.

Playing the Blues in Chicago: A Sausage-Fingered Disaster

“Waddya wanna play?” asked Mr Bassist.

Drunk and out of my depth, I went route one. “Er, I’m A Man?”

“Sure, start it off.”

And then I realised my fingers had all become sausages. I’ve had my fair share of disasters on stage, broken strings, drunkenness, hostile audiences - and this could have been the worst of an impressive pile of humiliations. But, looking back into the room, I could see Jeff moving in on Suzie again, so I thrashed out those A-D-C blues chord shapes with more energy than finesse.

“Now when I was a young boy. Bout the age of five…” behind me, suddenly, crashed in the drums, bass and other guitar. Wow! I was rocking Chicago with a shit hot group in support.

My voice was croaky and world weary. That 2am tequila sound. Fitted the song perfectly. I got through two verses and then the guitarist leaned into me, “Take a solo, man.”

The only solos I can do - not well, not technical - are simplistic blues runs. But that night, in Kingston Mines, I was all thumbs. Wrong notes, missed strings, out of time, yes; all the Robson trademarks were present in that woeful solo. Mercifully brief. Realising I was all bravado and tequila, the other guitarist stepped in and blasted out a solo that seemed to be a step above the ones he’d been trotting out previously. Eat that Eric, he seemed to be saying with his fingers. Oh to be fluid like Mick Taylor.

And then back for a verse / chorus and I stood there taking the polite applause from the band and the indifference of the audience. Suzie cheered and Jeff politely banged his glass on the bar.

“You were amazing!” said Suzie. Time to leave.

Later back at the hotel at O’Hare

We got back to the hotel, the hangovers beginning to kick in. The conference would start at 8am with a working breakfast attended by the big boss. It was now 4.30am. In the elevator we pressed the buttons for our floors. I hit nine. Suzie hit thirteen. Jeff didn’t partake.

“Can’t you remember your own floor?” I sneered.

“Yeah, sure,” replied Jeff smiling. “Thirteen.”

Next Day

I was awoken by my phone ringing. Confused and tripping over my clothes hastily discarded all over the floor like mantraps, I picked it up.

“Tim, we’re all waiting for you,” said my boss annoyed. “We need the EMEA numbers and plan for the year.”

I looked at my watch. 8.20. And then. And then the headache kicked in. Followed by the rush to the bathroom. You know the story. Suffice to say, me and the bathrooms of hotel became intimate friends throughout the rest of the day. Possibly the most miserable day of my whole life. I’ve never had a handover this bad before or since. I played no part in the real estate conference and flew back to the UK suffering and dejected that night.

But - and who else can say this beyond a few, a select few, I’d played the blues in Chicago at the legendary Kingston Mines. Years distant from the events, I forget the hangover and look at those grainy pictures with pride. I rocked once!

Annoyed about Suzie though.

---

Quotidian Notes:

1) After this incident I couldn’t smell, let alone drink tequila for twenty years. This is something I’ve been manfully working on recently. We all love a trier!

2) All career episodes, that were all consuming once, fade with time. I forget what the Chicago conference was about. Something important, no doubt. But ultimately inconsequential. Work hard. Show up. But don’t take it seriously.

3) I still play the blues. Live it man! But, the tequila! We’re not all Keith Richards and in both my recording and live career (FFS sake Tim!) a couple of loosners is fine. More and all you get a drunken mess. Maybe I like it that way. Sabatage is the go-to excuse of the underachiever.

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Between West Street and Bleecker Street - New York Memories

"Hey Buddy; take me to Bleecker Street."

“I saw a shadow touch a shadow’s hand. On Bleecker Street.”

— Paul Simon - Bleecker Street

(New York Memories from many years ago and a taxi trip I took to follow a song. A repost but with edits and additions.)

When I first went to New York, American Express put me up at The Marriott Downtown on West Street. (1) After a hard day in the office doing, oh I don’t know what - all work is ephemeral given time and distance - I would ask my US colleagues out for a beer. And sometimes they would oblige... For a beer. Just one beer. Before then departing for New Jersey or somewhere out of town. Leaving me alone in New York.

The Marriott Downtown on West Street is down at the bottom of Manhattan Island, in a very business district; all skyscrapers, bustling with life during the day but dead after work. What to do? On my first trip to New York?

Letting art be my guide, I summoned a yellow taxi and told the cabbie to take me to Bleecker Street. Due to the Simon and Garfunkel song, it was the only uptown street I knew and I didn’t know any attractive ladies I could meet at the top of the Empire State Building. So the cabbie took me - circuitously I found later - up to Greenwich Village.

De-cabbed, I wandered around the village. Had some beers in 'coffee shops' where I had to get used to putting dollars on the bar before ordering my drink. Lighting up a Marlboro - yes, you could in those days - I thought, hey! - this is living. All my idols - Neil Diamond, Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, had walked these very streets. Played in the coffee houses. All I lacked was my very own Suzi Rotolo immortalised on The Freewheeling Bob Dylan:-

Now that image is well known. Less well known is the cover of The Paul Simon Songbook where Paul poses (influenced by Dylan, no doubt) with his then girlfriend Kathy Chitty (of Kathy's Song fame):-

The album cover above is framed and hung in my hallway. The Song Book was released in 1965 and recorded in England after Simon temporarily left Garkunkel following the poor reception to their first album, Wednesday Morning 3am. Wednesday Morning, of course, contained Bleecker Street. Being a fan, I had all the albums.

So what does this all show? Not much, in the receding view of history. A first time visitor to a great city takes a taxi ride to someplace mentioned in a song. But to me it was real. It was living art. All of my life - in those distant youthful days - seemed to be an unwritten novel, an oral poem - a song awaiting to be sung.

I suppose life is an ever diminishing version of that little story: The search for the new, the openness of naivety, the finding of oneself, wherever that may be. I suppose we all search for the thrill and expectation I felt during that first taxi ride between West Street and Bleecker Street.

And sometimes we find that feeling. But usually we don't. We all live in between.

Tim

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Notes on New York

1) Subsequently, I used to stay at the Marriott World Trade Centre, a little further up West Street. It was in between the twin towers and, of an evening, instead of Bleecker Street, I’d hang out in Windows on the World bar, up on 101st floor.

2) Other memories of that first trip to New York? The death of Richard Nixon vying with Mayor Giuliani’s first budget and both being very much on TV & Radio. Surprisingly crappy roads with potholes even down in the financial district. 

---

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The Best Underground 60's Sounds 2

Yeah, Serge is batting above his average.

The Best 60’s Undergound Songs Part 2

A few years back, in the dark days of masks, lockdowns and weird social rules in supermarkets, I wrote a pretty well received article on the best unknown 60’s songs (strangely now my most popular article battling it out with Mick Taylor and - bizarrely - a circular walk around Burgess Hill).

The obscure 60’s article strayed not too far from the path of collective knowledge - B Sides from familiar bands (Stones, Beatles, Who), overlooked singles - Lady Friend by The Byrds. A couple of randos like Rudi’s in Love.

A toe in the water. I promised then - and I always keep my promises - to write a follow up with more obscure fayre from the 60’s. Well, here it is and here they are.

But before I start, I’m aware that this list will also be derided as mainstream, yawn, “13th Story Elevators - so overdone man.” I’ll take that abuse - there’s none so disdainful as an obscurantist. They are not my audience. Who is then Tim? Well, since you ask, my readers tend to stray on this site after perusing my Mick Taylor articles or having ploughed their way through my worthy histories of Rome through various battles. And given these facts, let’s tread lightly into obscure music trivia.

So - I can’t get no satisfaction crowd, be damned - here we go.

You’re Gonna Miss Me - The 13th Story Elevators (1966)

Pretty well known in underground circles. There used to be several club nights in Brighton in the early 90’s that would delight in playing obscure 60’s tracks. In my mind and unreliable memory, this particularly track used to be played a lot. For how else would I know it? It sounds like it was recorded in a garage which is a prerequisite for this list. Sounds like it was done in one take. Written by Roki Eriksson and storming to 55 on the Billboard charts in May 1966, this was the highpoint of The 13th Floor Elevators. If you like a track with prominent guitar, wailing singer, Kinks type solo and a weird jug instrument in the background then You’re Gonna Miss Me is one for your party playlist. Look smug.

I’m Gonna Jump - The Toggery Five

Familiar story. Boy finds his girl is unfaithful. Confronts her and then threatens to jump into a river to kill himself. Perhaps an over-reaction, no? Probably why she dumped you mate. But it’s delivered with panache, the singer has a pair of lungs on him and - subject matter aside - it’s a dramatic tune. Didn’t trouble the charts though. And how do I know this particular ditty? Well, back in Rochdale, so many years ago, the vicar’s daughter handed me a set of 45 singles. Can’t remember why. And this one was in the pile. It’s a crap anecdote I know but led to this entry on the listette.

Tried So Hard - Gene Clark (1967)

Gene left the Byrds in 1966 - afraid of flying and chased by the jealousy of the others. He then embarked on an unsuccessful solo career before drinking himself to death in 1991. Those twenty five years produced many great tracks and plenty from the 60’s all of which, unless you’re a Gene fan, are worthy of a mention here. I’ll go with Tried So Hard which - in various incarnations, I’ve tried so hard to play and record over the years. Clark is one of those few artists who started the country rock genre and no there’s no better example than this track. Superficially a ‘country’ song, it is replete with unusual minor chords and a great melody that are a hallmark of this under appreciated artist. So, listen to this, The Echos the album it comes from, and then go forth and listen more deeply my children. (Bonus points if you find Fairport Convention’s BBC Radio session version).

Think About It - The Yardbirds (1968)

B Side of their last single - Good Night Sweet Josephine. Whilst the A side is a some sub-Mickey Most musical hall type crap, Think About It is a audible signpost to guitarist Jimmy Page’s next group Led Zeppelin. Plug him in and away Jimmy goes, riffing like a bastard, soloing madly, double/triple tracking himself and foreshadowing Dazed and Confused. You know, there was a time, back when the planet was young and Margaret Thatcher was in power, when The Yardbirds were everything to me. More so than Zep even. Page, Clapton, Beck. What a lineage! But in their last couple of years, it was basically Page who used the Yardbirds vehicle - criss crossing the States and Europe - to hone his craft and develop the sound of what would become the world beating Zeppelin that dominated the 70’s (Hat tip to Renaissance though). From Happenings Ten Years Time Ago to Puzzles to Think About It, this was an experimental heavy metal journey. Think About It.

Blues Run the Game - Jackson Frank (1965)

“Catch a boat to England mama // Maybe to Spain”

There was a folk scene in the UK in the early to mid 60’s. It included John Renbourne, Bert Jansch, Sandy Denny, Paul Simon and his fellow American, Jackson Frank. Some went on to great fame and fortune and others - Frank - didn’t. He recorded one album, produced by Paul Simon, and left us with a hatful of great songs unknown and lost. Blues Run the Game, with it’s trademark folk finger picking style, haunting tune and ominous lyrics, is probably his greatest legacy. Got nowhere but it so nearly did. When Simon and Garfunkle were recording their first album - after the success of the electrified Sounds of Silence single - they recorded Blues Run the Game (probably a more polished but less heartfelt version). But it never made the cut for the album and lay unreleased until the 90’s. Frank died of mental illness and poverty never to know success. Blues ran his game and won.

Bonnie & Clyde - Serge Gainsbourg & Brigitte Bardot (1967)

Do we all feel the Serge? Dunno. But periodically, I do. Elisa, Initials BB, Qui est in, qui est out. Cool AF, is our Monsieur Gainsbourg. And Brigitte Bardot? This duo is hypnotic, with a an understated driving beat, falsetto cuckoos throughout, it draws you in and makes you think, why is this not more famous in the Anglo world. Clearly, I’m preaching to the choir in France but elsewhere, it’s a cult classic at best and a worthy and mighty entrant to this list. And yes, neither of them can sing that well. Cela n’a pas d’importance.

Maybe I Know - Lesley Gore (1964)

This song just comes at you right out of the blocks. With Quincy Jones production, this Jeff Barry/ Ellie Greenwich composition is a snapshot of early 60’s Brill Building styling. Inexplicably not a big hit, it’s one of my favs from this era - polished, great tune, confident double tracked vocals, whip cracking handclaps. Better known for ‘It’s My Party’ this is my preferred Lesley Gore song. And now yours. I’m sure her boyfriend didn’t really cheat on her in real life (no sniggering).

Part three? Who knows? But read on for more music.

Songs we hate to love

Baccara - shockingly bad. But so Gooood!

Songs So Wrong They’re Right

Sometimes, in the dark, after a couple of drinks, you know you do something sooo wrong but it feels sooo right? A fumble. A stumble and well, whilst we're here - may as well?

But then you hear out the full Abba track...

See what I did there? Started all suggestive and then pulled out early and did some damage to your curtains. Anyway, the theme of today’s descent away from ancient Rome and Electric Arc Furnace steel production, is those songs that everyone affects to hate but then, secretly, love. Well, me anyway.

I’ll try and not make this a ‘Tim reminisces about watching Top of the Pops in the 70’s’ borefest. I’ll mix it up. A bit. Having said that, let’s start with:-

Devil Woman - Cliff Richard (1976)

Long car journeys, 70’s compilations, I can find all manner of excuses to whip this Cliff classic out. It’s disco, it’s guitar led. It’s slightly misogynist. Cliff warns us about women and their evil feminine ways (no sniggering at the back). Total classic and Cliff’s biggest hit in the States. This is the only Cliff song you can air guitar and head bang to. Well. you can, but you’d look a twat. Don’t ask how I know this.

Yes Sir I Can Boogie - Baccara (1977)

We’re all a product of our background. Our history. We fight it but, you know, nature / nuture and all that. So yes, I was around when this talent-free zone briefly burgled the UK charts in 1977 with this song (and it’s follow up - Sorry I’m a Lady). Objectively, it’s shite. A disco by numbers with two talentless singers giving it some fake Donna Summer’s orgasmic lift. I think they’re Spanish. Represented Luxembourg in the Eurovision… And yet, it’s one of my favourites. Play it. It’ll be one of yours too. You’re welcome.

Hannah Montana and The Jonas Brothers - We Got the Party (2008)

A deep cut, man. What do you do to improve a bonafide teen classic sung by a young Miley Cyrus in a crap blonde wig? Yes, add the Jonas Brothers (who the fuck are they? - editor). Miley / Hannah rocks out this surprisingly heavy tune with syncopated fuzz tone guitars. ANYWHERE WE ARE, ANYWHERE WE GO, EVERYBODY KNOWS; WE GOT THE PARTY WITH US! As Taylor Swift used to say - probably insincerely - on her Red Tour (yes, I was there too) when introducing some has-been guest - “this is my jam”.

Whigfield - Saturday Night (1994)

90’s dancehall classic by an Italian songwriting team fronted by a hot Danish singer. Catchy pop - bouncing bass, dancey keyboards, infectious tune and, did I mention, a hot blonde Danish singer? Some weird repetitive duck quacking. Simpler times children, simpler times. It’s not pretentious in the slightest but is dance gold… Wasn’t there a routine that goes with this?

Nellie The Elephant - The Toy Dolls (1984)

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Punk band flips a Disney classic and has rough sex with it. Aged badly but it was never that great. You had to be there, in a Rochdale disco swaying after too many snakebites. Then, and only then, was it a classic (so, why are you playing it now, Tim?).

Jilted John - Gordon is a Moron (1978)

The 70’s… Those were different times. The past was a different country, and all that. A song about John being dumped by Julie in favour of Gordon who, apparently, is a moron. And many others things too rude to mention on an ESG approved 2024 website. Sub-punk, witty lyrics, catchy chorus, bass solo, a long fade out with every insult under the sun for the afore mentioned Julie and Gordon. Did I really see this on BBC’s Top of the Pops? It all seems like a dream now.

Everyday - Troy (High School Musical 2) - 2007

It’s gotta be done! Tweeny-pop channeling ‘Oh Happy Day’ at the end when the cast, always faux sceptical of Troy & Gabrielle and their musical theatre ambitions, put aside their reservations and stand up, clap along and provide a rousing end to the film. Lightweight, derivative, cliched, but fuck it, tracing the arc of this slow builder is a pleasurable experience. Back when Disney knew their market, what the hell their purpose is; giving smiles to little ones and happy memories to those not so young (and now older still).

Hands Up - Ottowan (1981)

“La gard meurt et il ne se rend pas.” The stirring words of General Cambronne at Waterloo as The Old Guard went down fighting are echoed not at all by this French disco-pop duo 166 years later but the same indomitable Gallic spirit punched it’s way into this list. Happy to oblige. Memories of Costa holidays, warm evenings, light weight Europe pop and disco lights. Like the grand old general at Waterloo, this song takes no prisoners and fights to death to get you up and dancing with an irresistable mix of clap-clap beat, daft lyrics and an ear wormish tune. You start ironic. You end a convert.

****

There’s more. So many more. For those about to embarrass themselves, we salute you!

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David Crosby - RIP

The Crosby Legacy

There was a time, different place, different era, when I played The Byrds obsessively. The twinkling 12 string Rickenbacker, the three part harmonies, Gene Clark’s brooding magnificence, McGuinn’s granny glasses and Crosby’s cheeky grin, cape and high harmony.

I think my induction to the Byrds proper was the Original Singles Album (1965/67) which featured their first eight singles both A and B sides. Amongst the obvious Clark originals and Dylan covers - Mr Tambourine Man, Feel A Whole Lot Better for example, I discerned another quite different voice creeping in on the later cuts, all B sides. David Crosby.

On that album he is featured solo on three self penned classics - Why, What’s Happening?!?! and Everybody’s Been Burned. Within these three you have the quintessential Crosby vibe - laid back, melodic, whilst employing an almost conversational approach to lyrics.

Interestingly enough, it wasn’t until the third album, after Clark left, that Crosby starting putting forward his own songs. He had written previously - The Airport Song from Preflyte, the years later collection of early Bryds demos, is one of my favourites - but for the next couple of years until he was kicked out, Crosby was the Byrds main man.

Classics from this time - the groove of I See You, the sexual freedom of Triad - and the unreleased madness of Psychodrama City. The standout song though was released as a single in 1967; Lady Friend. It’s pretty obscure as the single failed and didn’t even make it onto an album. But it’s a classic - rollicking, brass led, great harmonies, usual Crosby sideways lyrics. A lost masterpiece in plain sight.

After the Byrds Career

And then he was booted out of the Byrds and formed Crosby, Stills and Nash and went onto write other classics of which Genevieve is the most outstanding and up with anything he wrote for the Byrds. Haunting, beautiful lyrics with some great guitar from the man himself. See video below. Deja Vu is also a decent song. There are occasional gems both in this configuration and on his solo album but I have to say, I prefer my Crosby in the Byrds period.

Crosby. A one off. RIP.

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Marcello's Oboe Concerto in D Minor

Piazza Navona - Casper van Wittel

Nearly twenty years ago I worked in a skyscraper near London’s Victoria Station. I’ve recounted previously how I used to walk over to Harrods via Motcomb Street. Well, apparently, I used to do something else too; I used to ceaselessly hum the melody to Vivaldi’s Winter (Largo) from the Four Seasons.

Now, as luck would have it, I had an Italian colleague sat opposite me. He liked Vivaldi. He told me that the Four Seasons was part of a larger movement, The Contrast Between Harmony and Invention (Opus 8). And thus began my interest in baroque.

Tracking down Vivaldi’s other opus became a hobby. If you haven’t heard La Stravaganza, l’estro armonico or Gloria it’s worth the two seconds of your life it takes to track these down and listen. From Vivaldi I found Teleman, Albinoni, Corelli, Bach (of course), Handel and numerous others.

Baroque music became the only music I listen to at work. It also became the only music I listened to on trains going to and from work. Ah, yes, commuting; how soon we forget! Two hours a day listening to my favourite Vivaldi’s concertii as the rolling hills of Sussex transformed into South London.

Now one of the best things about YouTube (and one of the worst) is that it takes your viewing habits and very quickly recommends other videos of the same ilk. Now this can be worrisome; you can watch a Trump press conference and in a matter of clicks you’re nodding along to Alex Jones ranting about satanic conspiracies. Or you watch Tulsi Gabbard tear Kamala Harris a new one in a Democratic debate and then you’re suddenly marooned watching extreme left propaganda (otherwise known as CNN).

But, to be fair, with music, Youtube comes into its own and I appreciate it recommending music for me. I have found many great songs and artists I otherwise wouldn’t have. Sometimes algorithms work.

Thus, one dreamy afternoon at work, my earphones plugged in to some Vivaldi, I came across - or YouTube recommended for me - Alessandro Marcello’s sublime Oboe Concerto in d Minor.

How can one describe these three movements? The angular musicality of the first, the haunting slow adagio, the playfulness of the third? Something about the key of D minor and the combination of oboes and baroque instruments always succeeds in delivering an impactful punch (see the equally sublime RV 535 from Vivaldi or Albinoni’s stunning Oboe Concerto - also in Dm).

The concerto was clearly popular in the early eighteenth century as Bach reworked it for harpsichord as BMV 974. It’s a good version - dropping to C minor for the occasion - and a good track to add to my piano playlist. However, it lacks some of the formality and evocativeness of the original. Bach’s version sounds like good instrumental music from a French film (nothing wrong with that, of course).

Marcello’s Oboe Concerto in D Minor is one to seek out; but the ultimate proof of a piece of music is to listen for yourself. I hope it is a positive experience for you all.

I love this version and the painting of Piazza Navona, by Caspar Van Wittel 1699, that accompanies it.

Face of Yesterday : The Curious Tale of Renaissance

Binky singing Face of Yesterday

The Curious Tale of Renaissance

I knew two things about British folkie prog rock group Renaissance:

1) I loved the rollicking 1978 single Northern Lights. Annie Haslam’s soaring vocals were a great counterpoint to all the punk around at the time. I bought the single.

2) As a big Yardbirds fan at university, I knew after the group broke up, vocalist Keith Relf and drummer Jim McCarty formed Renaissance with Relf’s sister Jane whilst Jimmy Page went off on his own and formed Led Zeppelin.

I’d never been curious enough to link these two facts. I knew Relf electrocuted himself in 1976 so he couldn’t have been part of the Northern Lights set up. And that’s where things stood until Christmas.

---

Occasionally YouTube throws something interesting at you. I was probably down a Yardbirds wormhole a few days ago and then YouTube threw ‘Kings and Queens’ from Renaissance’s first album at me. It shows a hippy-ish Keith Relf playing guitar, with his sister singing, Jim McCarty whacking the skins, some prominent piano work on a long prog-rock type song. Interesting but not really my scene.

Later, whilst I was in the bath, I asked Amazon to shuffle songs by Renaissance. Again, diverting but not really my scene. Until one song came on - Face of Yesterday - which I thought was interesting enough to put on a playlist. A playlist I listened to whilst walking up Wolstonbury Hill. Yes, this confirmed it, Face of Yesterday was my new favourite song!

It’s a dreamy ballad with classical influences and some excellent scat vocalism

And this is where things get a little murky.

The album Illusion. One group created it, another toured it and then disappeared to be replaced by another group with the same name. Confused?

Face of Yesterday

Face of Yesterday was recorded in 1970 for the album Illusion. It’s Jane Relf singing. But YouTube threw another curve ball at me; the video of the band shows quite a different lady singing the song. She has a completely different voice - lower, maybe more timorous but compelling nethertheless. And this lady is an absolute stunner! And also, she’s not Annie Haslam. A third female vocalist…

Well, it appears the vocalist on the video is Binky Cullom. And the band? They’re all new guys too and none of the original five appear in the video. How’s that even possible? Well, it seems that Relf, Relf, McCarty et al one by one dropped out during 1970 during the recording of Illusion. Relf and McCarty remained interested enough to recruit new musicians to replace them. And they did. Five times.

So, the six members of Renaissance on the video of 1970 touring the Illusion album are not the original five. Clear?

Not finished yet.

Over the next year, next month for Binky, five of the six also left. New members, came and went until 1972/1973 when the Renaissance that I knew, the Northern Lights Renaissance with Annie Haslam, came into being. This lineup was stable and lasted for years and produced a certain sound built around Annie’s vocals. But it was different sound. And a different group.

Final plot twist, four of the original five, minus Keith Relf, as he was dead, got together again in 1977. But as another group had the Renaissance name, they called themselves Illusion, yes, after that chaotic second album where they all walked out first time.

And what Renaissance song did Illusion re-record? Face of Yesterday!

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Mick Taylor and that Guitar Solo

Mick and Keef. The other Mick

The First Time I Heard the live Sympathy For The Devil

They say the Devil has all the good tunes (except when he goes down to Georgia, of course!). But perhaps just sympathising with Old Nick also conjures up a decent tune too.

I remember the first Stones album I bought myself. I was 15. Coming off the back of a couple of Greatest Hits compilations, I went and bought the live album Get Yer Ya Ya's Out. Live albums can often be a mistake as they tend to offer thin, over-emoting, out-of-tune and unnecessarily long versions of well-loved – and crafted - studio songs.

But not so Get Yer Ya Ya's Out...

The Stones 1969 Live Tour

It's a tour album commemorating the infamous 1969 US Tour - yes the one that ended with the screw up that was Altamont. I come back to this album frequently. I can safely say; I learnt to play guitar strumming along with this album. Recorded at Madison Square Garden, it captures the Stones as they transitioned away from Brian Jones and into the demi-god led outfit that included Mick Taylor. Finally, the Stones had some serious lead guitar muscle to complement the Human Riff, Keef. They would get better in the next couple of years, but this is the only official live album of the Stones Mark 2 line up.

My fav track was Track 1 / Side 2: Sympathy for the Devil. (“Paint It Black you devils! Do Paint It Black!”) E-D-A verses dropping to B for the chorus. Brilliant to play along with and attempt the extended guitar solo at the end of the track. Yes, I learnt my pitiful lead axeman skills from this track. Well at least for the first minutes of the solo anyway! Because suddenly the solo gets hard - real hard. What is a rhythm guitarist's best ever solo morphs into a shit-hot guitar hero work-out. You can hear the change about 4:30 into the track. It’s almost as though Keef took a snort half way through and felt emboldened to shout "Oi! Hendrix, Clapton - come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough!"

But YouTube and the internet have revealed the mystery behind the split personality on Sympathy for the Devil’s guitar solo. For of course – Keef plays the first half and then hands over to Mick Taylor. In less than two minutes, Mick Taylor pisses on Richards and - in the cock-measuring contest that was the Stones – for the next five years, never again would Keith attempt to challenge Taylor. There has only ever been one lead guitarist in the Stones and his name was Mick Taylor.

I’ll write in due course more about this golden era of the Stones. When they really deserved the moniker ‘The Greatest Rock n Roll Band in the World’. But for now, listen to this audio and you’ll see what I mean. Keef starts soloing at 3:18. Mick Taylor takes over the baton at 4:30 and from 5:20 streaks down the back straight to take both the tape and the Gold Medal.

As I said, the Stones would get better after 1969. Taylor would get more confident – aware that his fluid, melodic soloing would propel songs like Midnight Rambler, Gimme Shelter, Street Fighting Man to ever higher levels. But Get Your Ya Ya’s Out is where it began and, on Sympathy for the Devil, you can hear him shyly but definitely, take over the band’s sound.

Enjoy.

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GREATEST MOVIE SONGS

You’re watching a film. A song comes on the soundtrack - either heard or sung. And it’s memorable. And perfect. And right for the film, the time and the place. Might not be your favourite song but there - in the moment, watching the film - it is.

Here is my list of the greatest film songs.

Isn’t this a Lovely Day (Top Hat) - 1935

“The weather is frightening. The thunder and lightening seem to be having their way…”

If there’s a better song, I don’t know it. There’s probably not a day that passes where I don’t sing a couple of bars from this Irving Berlin classic. The movie poster hangs in my bedroom. In the film, Fred and Ginger are caught in a rainstorm and take refuge in a bandstand. As they sing and dance to this clever song, the rain outside pours. Their little shelter becomes a cacoon of flirtation, courtship and growing new love. To a great melody. We probably all wish for this. They weren’t complicated, Hollywood musicals of the 30’s. They went to the point. And what a lovely - make believe - world that was.

Sometimes, My Bloody Valentine - Lost in Translation 2001

Top five favourite movie. What’s not to like? Bill Murray. Bill Murray singing ‘More than This’ in a Japanese karaoke bar. Scarlett Johansson. Yes, Scarlett. A chaste romantic film. Clever. Laid back. The whirlwind of romance away from home. They go out with her friends. A club. A chase. A party. A karaoke bar. They drink and smoke and then get a taxi home. The early morning ennui following a night out. Dozy. Comfortable. With someone special. And this song plays. A surprisingly tender tune for a song with cranked up guitars. It floats along with the hazy reality of a blissful 3am with a girl. In a taxi. On the way back.

Get Back, The Beatles with Billy Preston - Let it Be (1970) Not the single. The final song from the movie.

The Beatles going down fighting. A cold January in 1969. The Beatles are nearly broken up and somewhat lethargic about their latest album. They decide to play one last impromptu concert on the roof of their building because they can’t be arsed going anywhere or organising anything else. So they play their latest songs across London to the unsuspecting office workers. The police get called after half an hour bringing this rooftop concert to an end. But there’s one more song. Get Back. John and George’s amp gets turned off after the first verse. And then ‘fuck it’ they switch it back on and their guitars come back with added urgency. This is it. The last song ever played live by the greatest group ever. It’s scrappy, it’s raw but it’s the fucking Beatles man. Going down fighting.

You’re Sensational, Frank Sinatra - High Society (1956)

“I’ve no proof. When people say, “You’re more or less aloof.”

Ah, Cole Porter… What a song writer. Famously, he wrote both the music and the witty and intelligent lyrics to his songs. High Society is one of my happy places. Happy memories of the family watching a good movie back in the 70’s. Of course, I like The Philadelphia Story too, but I grew up with the colour, musical version. From Louis Armstrong kicking it off on the bus, the hip jazz lingo, Bing Crosby being Bing, right through to the loveliness that was Grace Kelly. It’s a classic movie with a ‘sensational’ score. So many great moments; Bing and Grace harmonising on ‘True Love’, “now that’s jazz”, Frank and Bing duetting drunk, the breakfast outside on the patio. And the effortless class of ‘You’re Sensational’. I know I say it lot, but hardly a day goes by without my singing or humming its opening lines quoted above.

Bela Lugosi’s Dead, The Hunger (1983)

This is the classic opening for Tony Scott’s stylistic vampire movie The Hunger. The music is strange, other worldly and the perfect accompaniment to an unsettling, hip nightclub where Catherine Deneuve and David Bowie go out a’hunting for victims. Long coats, shades, cigarettes; the foundations of Goth are right there up on screen. Of course, in real life, Goths were just smelly losers in bad clothes and worse make-up hiding their acne. But in their mind, they were Peter Murphy, the chisel cheeked lead singer of Bauhaus who dominates this first scene from behind the bars of a cage (see below). Right song. Right movie. Well framed and shot. Hence, on the list!

Sweet Transvestite, Tim Curry - Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

Cracking song in one weird musical. Great was the day I found this movie. Suddenly everyone in sixth form was a sweet transvestite as both an insult, a compliment and - at the Christmas disco - a costume. I liked this song so much, I got my group to learn it and we’d chuck it in every now and then to get the crowd going. Or to stop them going. Whatever. At our final gig, at the Hare and Hounds in Brighton in early 1996, this was the last song we ever played. Pissed. Out of tune. Camping it up. And then I pulled a strop and sacked the band and went solo. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. Good song though.

There She Goes, The La’s - The Parent Trap (1998)

One of the greats. Of course this song stands on its own. Lee Mavers’ beautiful, beautiful indie twinkling guitar ditty packs three minutes of audio gold. And here, in a mainstream kids movie, it’s framed perfectly. As Lynsay Lohan’s American twin is driven around London - in a vintage Rolls Royce of course - images of London flash by as There She Goes blasts out. The two go together like an American travel agent’s perfect ad of quirky, historical, sunny London. With a iconoclastic soundtrack.

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music, Julie Andrews - The Sound of Music (1965)

Yeah, I know. A bit route one. Too obvious. What’s your favourite band? The Beatles. Favourite piece of classic music? Beethoven’s Fifth. Favourite movie song? As Time Goes By, Casablanca. They’re culturally ubiquitous for a reason, no? They’re the Stairways to Heaven of their field. Same here. I’ve tried to give a wide range of movie songs in this piece but - hey! - indulge me one indulgence. A toss up between the Dooley Wilson classic (If she can stand it, I can. Play it!) and this one. I went with Julie running around the Austrian Alps singing about mountains. And music. What makes it so special though, apart from the song, of course, is the helicopter shots, the gradual build up before Julie finally comes into shot. It is a classic, musically and cinematographically. Once seen, never forgot. Job done.

The Best Unknown 60's Songs

The Best Unknown 60’s Songs - It’s All Subjective!

The best hidden 60’s songs - in musical terms - is a slippery concept. I say ‘best’, you say ‘deservedly obscure’. You say “but what about this one’ and I say something about your mother. Ah, dear readers, I remember pub conversations.

But unknown songs, some by famous groups like the Beatles or Stones, are always a joy to find. It appeals to the musical snob in me. We all like to feel that our shadowy light in the forest is the one true path to musical esteem.

It’s all subjective, of course.

(In the list below I mainly feature obscure tracks by well-known bands with a few unknowns in there to keep you on your toes. It would be easy to pack the list with Gene Clark demos but that wouldn’t be fair.)

Lady Friend - The Byrds 1967

A joyous, rollicking single written by David Crosby, ignored at the time and now totally forgotten. Undeservedly so. The Byrds storm through a cracking tune with trademark Rickenbackers, floating harmonies, light and shade. Oh, and trumpets. There was a time, years ago, single and with tousled hair and Roger Mcguinn shades, this and Eight Miles High soundtracked my life. It was the beautiful dawning of a sadly short day… This is at the Byrds at their best and no-one knows this.

Reconsider Baby - Elvis 1960

Elvis would occasionally ‘do’ the blues. Exhibit A, his definitive take on Trouble in King Creole is perhaps his greatest ever vocal. Steamroller Blues is a highlight of his Aloha from Hawaii concert and album. Mess of Blues is one of my favourite ever tracks (but perhaps too famous for this list!) So, fresh out of the army, Elvis straps on his guitar and gets down and dirty with Lowell Fulsion’s driving lament. Yeah, that’s E on lead-rhythm. This version is famous for its two-in-the-morning feel epitomised by Boots Randolph’s extended strip club sax solo. Elvis is Back indeed!

The Who - Circles (1966)

An A side, a B side, and song of many names (Instant Party for example), Circles is a song with a complicated release history. What is not complicated though is that it is a great piece of mid 60’s psychedelia. Hypnotic, the tune apes the song title in that the guitar chug spirals round and round creating a musical embrace drawing you in. That’s John Entwhistle on French horn providing the persistent drone which pushes the track away from the Who’s previous RnB sound towards the more experimental I Can See For Miles. I used to mash up this track with Neil Diamond’s even more obscure ‘Shot Down’ to audiences between Brighton and London. Well, audiences in Brighton. And London.

Child of the Moon - The Rolling Stones (1968)

Hidden in plain sight, Child of the Moon is the B side of Jumping Jack Flash. I have the original single, lovingly bought at Rochdale’s Champness Hall monthly secondhand record fair back in the 80’s. “The wind blows rain into my face” begins Mick over an ominous drone kicked off with producer Jimmy Miller screaming out some inaudible words. It’s a bit hippyish, a bit psychedelic, slightly reminiscent of the Beatles (also obscure) B side Rain but it’s catchy and I like it. And the video. Weird. Slightly unsettling.

My Girl the Month of May - Dion and the Belmonts (1966)

Yes, the guy who did The Wanderer and Runaround Sue, released this swinging-60’s record years after The Beatles had rendered him and Belmonts obsolete. It’s full of mid 60's hip strangeness, some spirited singing from Dion and a chuck in the everything including the kitchen sink approach to production. ‘Little girl of mine, youngest flowers of springtime, you're the month of May.” And what month is better than May? Got nowhere in the charts and so this is a delight to find. You’re welcome.

Born to be a Rolling Stone - Gene Vincent (1967)

Gene ‘Be-bop-a-lula’ Vincent relocated to the UK in the mid 60’s. Tax reasons. Women problems. A draw on the live circuit, he didn’t however record anymore hits. His moment had passed. But he recorded some obscure mid-60’s singles that are quite beautiful. Born to be a Rolling Stone (b side the almost equally sublime Hurtin’ for you Baby) is stop-start Byrds influenced, guitar led song with a riff that I’ve ripped off ever since. On one level, it’s a slight piece as the singer tells us in a couple of verses why he’s born to be a rolling stone. But music is often as not a feeling, a sense of time and place from where you first heard it. Gene’s mid 60’s output came along at the right time for me.

Happenings Ten Years Time Ago - The Yardbirds (1966)

“Why you all got long hair? Bet you’re pulling the crumpet, ain’t ya?”

It doesn’t get better than this. Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck on twin attack lead guitar smouldering through some hard rocking mid 60’s psychedelia. This is peak Yardbirds. They went up fast and fell almost as swiftly before re-emerging as the global phenomenon Led Zeppelin. So, much to write about this song. Jeff and Jimmy playing in unison, the catchy tune, the hard riff, the avant-gard spoken piece in the middle. Together with Stroll On, the dual lead guitar Yardbirds lasted for only a few months in 1966. Such months!

Juliet - Neil Diamond (1969)

I could write a whole article on fantastic Neil Diamond lost gems from the 60’s. Across both Bang and Capital labels he produced some wondrous songs from ‘66 onwards. Always good, he seemed to lose his way a bit from the mid 70’s until The Jazz Singer (1979). He’s now battling Parkinsons and I wish him well against that horrible disease. I’ve already written about Neil Diamond Song Number 1 Solitary Man, but there’s plenty of rivals from the 60’s. I chose Juliet because of the feel, the words, his range from baritione to falsetto, the cosy feeling of new love. “Lay your eyes on me, girl, wanderin’ inside a grown man, no more than a small boy, sweet Juliet.” The whole Sweet Caroline album is filled with some of my favourite music. I could have picked the sublime Glory Road, Hurtin’ You Don’t Come Easy, And The Grass Won’t Pay No Mind. The title track isn’t bad either.

Rain - The Beatles (1966)

An obscure Beatles track? Surely no such thing! Well, probably not, but a non-album B side is about as close as you can get. Rain was the B side of Paperback Writer. It’s the Beatles going full-on psychedelic. Snappy, stop-start drums and a persistent drone kick off this little beauty. It all works. Paul’s bass is fluid and a co-lead instrument. Check out the bass solo towards the end propelling the song into its backwards coda. “Raaaaaaiiiinnnnn” sing John and Paul never more in harmony than here. If you’ve not heard it, you’re in for a treat. In terms of Beatles B sides, it’s in the top three (along with Don’t Let Me Down and You Can’t Do That). A John song, of course.

Rudy’s in Love - The Locomotive (1968)

“No gun shootin’ for Rudi, no retributin’.”

A minor hit. British blue beat. Ska. The Birmingham sound. I first came across this song on a compilation 60’s cassette tape that came free with, I dunno, Vox magazine in the early 90’s. It’s a cheerful ditty about a rude boy who finds love and so doesn’t want to do gangster type stuff anymore. Basic boy meets girl stuff. Driven by a horn section and an organ, this is the ska sound that the Specials picked up ten years later. Syncopated. Danceable. Fun fact; until I checked this out I always assumed at least the singer was black. Apparently not, bunch of Brummie white boys. Who knew?

So there we go. It’s a list. Clearly I’ll argue with it tomorrow.

The Real Obscure Stuff of the 60’s?

Real obscure stuff - Gene Clark, The Toggery Five, The 13th Floor Elevators, Jackson Frank you can check out in Part 2 here.

Riffs! Shouting! Power! - The Roots of Rock.

Yeah. Probably get a better image later.

The Five Records That Created Rock Music

Sometimes I amuse myself.

Chortle.

Sometimes I amuse myself by imaging the origins of hard rock. How did music get from, say, Neil Sedaka and The Everly Brothers in 1960 all the way to Led Zeppelin in 1969? Nothing wrong with Sedaka or The Everlys of course. Their switch of record labels in 1960 to Warners kick started - in my opinion - their best records, epitomised by the wonder that is ‘Cathy’s Clown”. But something happened between ‘60 and ‘69. Music began to go all the way to 11.

So this is a blogpost that traces that development of hard rock, heavy rock and punk in just five 60's records.

Caveat (for there must be one). By selecting five early 60's records, one doesn't deny the journey up to that point. Muddy Waters riffing like a bastard. Little Richard amping up the vocals. Chuck Berry giving every subsequent guitarist a rock blueprint. And Elvis. Of course Elvis. But, where to start? As I've written before, you can trace rock back to Beethoven's thunderous riffs, Vivaldi's repeated motifs in, say, his Mandolin Concerto in C. But I'll restrict my journey to the first half of the 60's or else I will disappear up my own arse (again).

What am I looking for? Anger. Loud overdriven guitars. A sense of musical anarchy barely held in check. Riffs. Screaming singers. All the way to eleven. On a Marshall amp. So here is my list of the five stepping stones from pop to heavy rock.

The Beatles - Twist and Shout (Feb 1963)

Yeah, everyone knows this song and The Beatles version. One of the Beatles best ever covers (up with Long Tall Sally, Dizzy Miss Lizzie, Bad Boy, Money). But what propels this song forward is John Lennon’s vocals. If he did nothing else, he’d be remembered for this performance. After a full day recording the Please Please Me album, Lennon audibly shreds his larynx as he provides one of rock's greatest vocals. The instrumentation is so-so, a standard early sixties beat combo sound. It's the singing, the call and response, the AH-AH-AH-AH-WOOO bit that makes this song special. Compare the muscular and aggressive Beatles' version against The Isley Brothers' original. No contest. Lennon pisses on them and kick starts heavy rock.

The Kingsmen - Louie Louie (April 1963)

When researching this (seriously Tim?) I found that Louie Louie was recorded after The Beatles' Twist & Shout by two months. Who knew? Who cares? Massive hit in the 60's. Revived in the 70's for the film Animal House. What can one say about this? An absolute shocker of a recording, slapdash, careless, badly recorded. A total fuck up. But in that carefree, shouty, riff heavy style, we have the embryo hard rock and punk. It was recorded in just one take for $50 with singer Jack Ely yelling as loud as he could at a mic lodged above his head just so he could be heard above the instruments. A million pub rock bands heard this and learnt the way forward. Inspiring.

The Rolling Stones - I Wanna Be Your Man (Nov 1963)

It's not often The Beatles and The Stones went head to head. But - song hustling - John and Paul gave the young Stones this song to help get the London boys into the charts (number 12). The Beatles went on to record I Wanna Be Your Man themselves for the With The Beatles Album. Now, whilst The Beatles version is polished and lively, The Stones go straight for the balls. Or more to say, Brian Jones does. The ferocity and aggression he gives to his slide guitar lead is a wonder to behold. He did it one take. Bizarrely,  this track is not heard much these days. First time I heard it, way after other Stones stuff - as it's not on an album nor on most Greatest Hits compilations - I was blown away with Jones' wall of noise. 1963? Are you kidding me? But it is step three onto heavy rock. 

The Kinks - You Really Got Me (1964)

Riff heaven. Taking up the baton from the Kingsmen and amping up the power London style. Guitarist Dave Davis creates the song's dynamic. He cut his amp with a razor blade to create the fuzzy, 'heavy' sound. Rock is born! He then throws out a volley of notes in the solo; mad, nonsensical but the inspiration for many a guitarist's solo (I include myself here!). Long rumoured to be played by session man and pre Led Zep Jimmy Page, it was in fact Dave Davis. The first song you can really head bang to. And air guitar.

The Who - My Generation (1965)

The song where it all comes together! Riffs, heavy guitar sound, fucking mental rhythm section, powerful singer. Feedback. Anarchy. Power. Driven by The Ox and Moonie; their powerful backing gives Townsend the space to riff away and Daltrey to stutter like a pilled up prick chucked in front of a mic at closing time shouting out his story. The final minute where Moon goes mad, Daltrey screams and Townsend and Entwhistle lock together is one of rock's finest moments. It is this that points to the future - not least during The Who's own guitar smashing versions of this very song. The path is is now open for the Who to charge towards rock's finest moment - 'Won't Get Fooled Again’.

Watch The Who in their best ‘Fuk Da Hippies’ mood at Monterey 1967.

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Read about the time I was introduced as Eric Clapton onto Kingston Mines Chicago’s stage wearing a long overcoat as drunk and with no chops! Or maybe the best underground 60’s songs?

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Reposted and rewritten from August 2016 

The Greatest Album One / Two Punches

Albums that come out swinging!

There are albums that come out of the blocks with two killer tracks that are like a pissed off Mike Tyson swinging wildly at some trash talking, old timer patsy in the late 80's. Albums that decide that the best way to follow a kicking first track, is with another. 

Lock up your aunties! The Crowes in 1992

The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion (1992)

The second album from the Crowes throws 'Sting Me' to the left and "Remedy' to the right. 1992 might have been Grunge Year Zero but, together with Teenage Fanclub, the Crowes held rock's banner aloft. These are kick-ass rock tunes. Basically, The Faces reimagined if their Marshalls were turned to 11 and Rod really went for it instead of pretending to be Sam Cooke. Love these two songs. Highlight - the 'fuck you' start of the guitar solo in Sting Me. A moment in rock I've ever and a day tried to replicate. Two seconds of true power!

The CD reissue doesn't 'feel' right!

Eden - Everything but the Girl (1984)

The impulse purchase one doesn't regret! Stood in WHSmith Rochdale's record department in 1984, I hear the wondrous album play over the store speakers. One track, two tracks, I was sold. Marched up to desk and asked, "Pray tell me good madam, who is making this bewitching sound?". Everything but the Girl apparently. Crazy name, crazy sound. So, I bought the album with its distinctive cardboard, non veneered album with the abstract painting on the front. The songs, I now know, were Each and Everyone and Bittersweet. They detail the commonplace jealousies and realities of relationships. All bedsits, screaming babies and jealousy. No holding hands and a rush towards lust with these songs. It was the clever lyrics as much as the bossa nova rhythms that had me captivated. The rest of the album's pretty good (apart from the execrable Soft Touch). I’ve framed this album.

George is a pinapple head

Beatles for Sale (1964)

Not a One / Two, but a 1-2-3. The Fab Four of course do what other groups do - only better. Whilst other groups would put their singles on their albums, The Beatles didn't.  So Beatles for Sale kicks off with No Reply, I'm a Loser, Baby's in Black. With these stunning ditties The Fab Four literally piss on their competition. The bar is set so high, their album tracks sound like a career best single for any other group. Bizarrely, although released at the height of Beatlemania, Beatles for Sale is pretty obscure these days and these three - being non singles - are not as well known as they should be. But I love this album. Almost as much as I love...

Fisheye

...Rubber Soul (1965)

Pound for pound, this non single containing album, packs pretty much the hardest punch of any album. It roars out of the blocks with McCartney's funky - come on Motown have a go if you think you're hard enough! - Drive My Car. Most groups' best single ever. Just an album track. We then shift gear to the acoustic and sitar masterpiece that is Norwegian Wood. As a guitarist, this latter song - with its major to minor shift - is a dream to play. Like You've Got To Hide Your Love Away this shows why Lennon is so revered. This is effortlessly brilliant. We all fuck around on D but don't achieve anything like this. Let alone chucking in a middle 8 in G minor. Class. In a glass.

Hard. Soft. Kicks ass.

Led Zep 4 (1971)

Anything The Beatles can do, Zep does one better and louder! The whole of Side 1 of Led Zep 4. Just review these four tracks:- Black Dog, Rock n Roll, The Battle of Evermore, Stairway to Heaven. And this is just an normal album, not a greatest hits compilation. Not a filler in sight! From the sonic destruction of the first two, to my teenage fav with Sandy Denny (obligatory hobbit references!) to the ubiquitous - but deservedly so - Stairway, this is how to start a 37 million selling album. Are these guys knights of the realm yet FFS?

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What about the five songs from the early sixties that led to heavy rock?

Time Waits For No One - Mick Taylor's Greatest Stones Song

“Time can tear down a building or destroy a woman’s face
Hours are like diamonds, don’t let them waste
Time waits for no one, no favours has he
Time waits for no one, and he won’t wait for me”

— Time Waits for No One - Rolling Stones 1974

In the late 80's I wrote a song called 'It's Raining Again'. I used to play it loudly in my rented flat on Montpelier Road, Brighton. It was shit. The only good thing about the song was in the instrumental break where I grafted a sausage fingered version of Mick Taylor’s solo from Time Waits for No One.

Ah, Time Waits for No One. This is the Stones, timeless, standing out of time, looking back at us and beckoning us mere mortals forward. Yes, this is the best track Mick Taylor and the Stones ever recorded. So beautiful. So wistful. And that solo at the end! It was Mick Taylor’s swan song with the band, at once both a calling card and an elongated - but elegant - adieu.

The song’s brilliance however comes from all the players in the group - it’s not just an excuse for Taylor to let rip. That’s the beauty of MT’s time in the Stones, he took them to another level but, without him, the starting point was pretty damn high anyway.

So, credits? Jagger's thoughtful lyrics echo Chaucer (time and tide wait for no man) as the singer muses about the transitory nature of life. Keef's adds the recurring spine tingling riff. Wyman, Watts, the ever ready, ever steady back line, all present and correct. Nicky Hopkins adds his characteristically dramatic piano flourishes whereas Ray Cooper contributes the pervasive metronomic backing that tick-tocks the track into immortality.

And then Mick Taylor solos like a bastard for two / three full minutes of magic. He employs Latin influenced runs up and down the fretboard (influenced by a recent trip down the Amazon). Like all the best Mick Taylor solos, this one is fluid and melodic and probably pretty spontaneous. You get the impression that if he were to play it again, do another a take, he’d do it in a completely different - but equally good - fashion.

Each crescendo on the guitar, proceeded by the supporting buttresses of melodic scales, is a highlight. As Mick works his way up the fretboard (though delightfully at one point he reverses) he carries the listener effortlessly to the stars. I believe many die-hard Stones fans request this track to be played at their funeral. It certainly has an ethereal beauty, at once balancing the beauty of life, music, art, nature, love with the fragility of those very qualities.

Listen below if you’ve never heard this track. The Stones could have gone this way. Mick Taylor though was not destined to be with them for long. In Time Waits for No One he’s playing his own exit music and damn fine it is too.

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The five greatest Mick Taylor Stones studio recordings?

Yohanna - Funny Thing Is (Song Review)

Yohanna – Funny Thing Is (2008) (Yohanna / Lee Horrocks)

“The funny thing is – that I can see myself
Like a star on the big screen
I guess I’m somebody else
It’s like make-believe in the wrong sized dress
And nobody wants me
Unless I’m somebody else. ”

— Yohanna - Funny Thing Is

Funny Thing Is

I must admit – this article didn’t quite go the way I envisaged. It was going to be all about small countries, female diva singers and my usual bucketful of navel gazing, solipsistic bullshit that we all love and enjoy. Actually, that’s precisely what you’re gonna get anyway; old habits die hard in a ditch defending my idiosyncrasies. The difference this time is that bizarrely, I ended up corresponding with the singer, Yohanna, herself.

Anyway, random is the new planned and rambling is the new coherence. And poor snowclones are the new annoying. Sometimes I’m so literary it actually hurts. Anyway, let’s get back on track. Yohanna stands in the wings, her song nervously pacing behind the closed curtain, anxiously awaiting the big reveal to you, my strung out caravan of misfits.

Watch The Funny Thing is Video

So, before you go any further, click on the video link of Yohanna’s song. It’ll help. I like small countries. I’ve found that the people are feisty and funny, conscious of their size but proud of their ‘us against the world’ predicament. When I was a globetrotting relationship manager for a multi national financial services company (try saying that after a few drinks!) I was fortunate enough to visit plenty of small countries, visits, I’m happy to report, paid for by my employers. So, for three years, I used to travel to Brussels every month; prior to that I had frequent (work related) sojourns in Amsterdam. I was summoned to Luxembourg a couple of times to get my butt kicked by a well known global telecommunications company’s in order to explain away a botched implementation. Yeah, Skype – I’m talkin’ ‘bout you. Bastards.

I also once pitched for a global contract with a large pharmaceutical company based in Iceland. I had a couple of days in Reykjavík. It was cold, it was winter and it snowed. It was dark until nearly noon. Perfect conditions in fact for those who view melancholy as but a tiny step down from ecstatic. I succeeded in getting the contract signed with the drugs company - of course – then celebrated with several cocktails in the Reykjavík Hilton feeling pretty good about myself. But, what did I actually know of the country around me?

- I knew, it was cold and that Icelanders did a lot of fishing and were often blonde.

- I knew Blur used to go there in the 90’s and, for a while, Reykjavík was the ‘cool’ place to be.

- I found out in my prep reading that British troops invaded and occupied the country in 1940 (Who knew? Sorry guys!).

- I knew that a beautiful singer called Yohanna represented Iceland in the 2009 Eurovision song contest with her rousing ballad Is It True and was robbed of Brotherhood of Man type fame by tragically, and wrongly, coming second.

And Yohanna, Tim?

It is, of course, to Yohanna that I now pivot and discuss her obscure, but evocative song, Funny Thing Is. It’s an odd choice, I know, but - if this is the joker in the pack of my favourite songs - musically and emotionally, it more than holds it own against the better-known competitors on the list. Scanning my iTunes top 25 most played songs, Funny Thing Is stubbornly remains a permanent fixture in the upper reaches. Others may come and go, but Yohanna’s song, artfully entwining empowerment, insecurity and big-voiced ‘you-go-girl’ choruses, is always there for me to have a surreptitious ‘diva moment’. It is my favourite sing-a-long.

I guess my liking for diva type torch songs was something that only grew gradually. Even though I went to school with Lisa Stansfield* , for years after, I only ever listened to boys thrashing loud guitars, shouting themselves hoarse. This was amplified during my own rock career – yes, I write the word ‘career’ sarcastically – where I consciously crafted a certain rock stereotype; Marshall amp, Epiphone guitar; plenty of feedback. Indeed, the charms of a well-written female ballad beyond, say, The Winner Takes It All or Aretha belting out You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman, evaded my playlists for years. My group used to do Walk On By but only because the Stranglers did so first. Dionne Who? Exactly. And then a strange metamorphosis happened…

I started to feminize my tastes and got all metrosexual on-yer-ass. I can even remember the date and the cause. Lucie Silvas and Breath In, 2004. (Lucie Silvas is, by the way, a lost British great, bow your heads in shame, fickle public). From that moment on, I was all about the girls. Classics like Erma Franklin’s Another Piece of My Heart, Etta James’ I’d Rather Go Blind, nestled with anything by Carol King, Jodie Mitchell up to the mid 70’s, early or late period Alison Moyet, some Avril Lavigne, most Taylor Swift, late 80’s Cher, upbeat Mary Chapin Carpenter, bits of Pink… Wearing my apron in the kitchen, I’d blast out girl power ballads, shake my booty and yell into the wooden stirring spoon that there ain’t no mountain high enough. An attractive image, no doubt you will agree.

So I was a prime convert for Yohanna when she sang her heart out representing Iceland on the Moscow stage at 2009’s Eurovision. She was a stunning vision in a full-length blue ball dress, her long blonde hair gently blown in the air like a classy 80’s pop video. Effortlessly she won over the audience – and me - with her heartbreaking ballad Is It True. See the video below. Best 2nd place ever? Click the video below and watch her!

(The UK, as usual, had put up some bollocks that no-one remembers. Why do we, land of pop mastery, always have to be so shit these days at the Eurovision? )

Song Review

So Yohanna. What a voice! What poise! What control! This cello led song gradually ratchets up the emotional tension until the final chorus where Yohanna finally lets rip, singing high and pure over the top of her backing singers; soaring in fact. The combination of a beautiful woman singing about deceit and betrayal universalized the song, the emotion; we’ve all been there. We’ve all loved. We’ve all been hurt. Yohanna should have won the contest. She was the greatest ever second place! I’m convinced that if she had won, I wouldn’t be here six years later trying to explain to you all outside the Nordics who the hell she is. Believe me, you’d know.

But my story doesn’t end here. I downloaded her album Butterflies and Elvis (crazy name, big in Sweden) and here is where the song Funny Thing Is came into my consciousness and onto my list of favourite songs.

It all starts rather peacefully; a piano playing a simple riff, the comforting beginning of many a slow building ballad. After a couple of bars Yohanna comes in, her voice welcoming and pure:

“Life’s a magic wand Dreams will never end”

Already we’re channeling ethereal; music, voice and lyrics perfectly capturing a mood of innocence and hope. But ominously, we’re quickly convinced that this isn’t going to a Disney fantasy, a carpet ride to clichéd emotions: Yohanna, and the musical backdrop are now leading us to a different place:

“When I try to run Somebody pulls me back” And then we’re cantering onto the ‘big’ chorus with drums, bass and guitar signalling this transition. Yohanna takes her voice up an octave and teaches wannabes and never-will-be’s exactly what a fucking chorus should be sung like – powerful, dramatic and yet tuneful. “The funny thing is,” she sings and the listener is drawn in; what is the ‘funny thing’ what is the irony about to be exposed, what journey are we heading on? We have the mental image of Yohanna gazing at herself, commenting on who she is, how she is perceived, maybe whom she is expected to be in order to get on in life. Her vocals and her passion drive us ever forward, drawing us in. She means it, man. She really means it.

Drop a level to verse two.

“I wanna be myself // And nobody else//It’s no fun being what you’re not //So just forget about it.”

We’re now inexorably building to the second chorus. We know already, learning from the first chorus, that this song has got ‘big finish’ written all over it. We know we are in the capable hands of strong voice, a passionate singer who loves to let go and this is all gonna end with the listener inevitably joining in, bellowing out, inexpertly perhaps, the hook line. Actually I do a good counterpart harmony myself at this point. If I have one criticism of the song it’s that I’m not on it.

Second chorus complete, Yohanna repeats and repeats ‘The funny thing is, that I can see myself” - the tension building with each repetition; you know she’s holding back and that at any moment she’s going to release her powerful voice, start ad-libbing the tune and break out into some kick-ass vocal improvisation. This is the ending that all good ballad/torch songs should possess – passion, guts, drive; the vocalist tunefully riffing over a crescendo of musicians and chanting backing singers. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do – soul singer style – Oh Happy Day type call and response sort of thing – but never have. Yohanna succeeds, channeling her heroes – Whitney, Celine, Aretha – but still remaining unique.

If I want an uplifting song where I can join in, feel the power of the music, ponder over the lyrics, envy the vocalist, then Funny Thing Is has to be the song. Criminally, hardly anyone knows about it here in the UK. Yohanna, though still young, is cruelly under-appreciated here (though check out her Facebook.

I wish her well in the future, with writing new material and new successes. Speaking personally however, with Funny thing Is, Yohanna is already up there with the best in my opinion. The very best. My list of great songs includes such untouchable artists as The Rolling Stones, Neil Diamond, The Byrds; The Eurythmics. The Beatles, and Elvis.

Yohanna; you are the Iceland of this group; small, feisty, independent – but holding your head up high against the big guys. You’ve earned your place on my list of greats. Which all goes to show, you don’t have to be perceived as a commercial success to be an artistic success (see Lucie Silvas).

Of course Yohanna should be more famous, of course her tracks should be in the international charts but, selfishly, I’m glad I found her and know her. She is my diva guilty secret. But I’ve just let that secret out of the bag. In a way, I’m glad. You go girl!

• Not lying – I really did go to school with Lisa Stansfield – it was Oulderhill School, Rochdale, early 1980’s. Yes, we sang together in the school play, yes she became more famous than me; no we never had a romantic relationship (though who turned down who, I’m too much of a gentleman to say!). But I’m here for the long haul. She may have been around the world but I’m still rockin’, still rollin’, still writing. One day her Wikipedia entry will say – ‘Lisa went to school with Tim Robson’. It will also show she’s a few years older than me. Mee-ow!

Savage - Eurythmics (Song Review)

“She said, “I have this unhappiness
To wear around my neck
It’s a pretty piece of jewellery
To show what I protect.”

You fall into patterns within relationships so very easily. You assume roles within the couple’s dynamic - what you do, what you believe and what you enthuse about. It’s kind of a domestic shorthand that describes, but soon imprisons, the full richness of each other’s personality.

With me, I’ve always been the ‘music’ guy. My girlfriends have pretty much been less interested in music than me. It is my thing. I know what year a song came out, who played on it and who wrote it. Whilst there are women who are every bit as obsessive in this area, I think it’s safe to say that this lauding of the ephemera of music tends to be a predominantly male trait. This characteristic plays itself out within a relationship by ownership of the playlists, control of the music; a pedantic, but ultimately futile, need to teach, to explain, each and every song. Love of something subjective becomes a dry lesson in the objective. Savage is the honourable exception.

Listening to this slow building song, I’m forever taken back by its gentle rhythm to a time in the late 80’s when life seem optimistic and everything seemed to matter. A shy girl, who loved me, said that I should listen to this track, as it was just the sort of music I’d enjoy. Like all good recommendations this was built from a solid foundation of what that person knew about me and then went off at a tangent. No-one needs to be told something obvious – it’s the unobvious and obscure, the great find, that really chimes within the soul. And so it was with Savage. The gentle girl was right, it is ever one of my favourites.

The slow, ethereal intro frames the piece; with each gentle wave of chords from the keyboard - more breathed than played - you know it’s going to be one of Annie Lennox’s betrayal songs. No one, other than Alison Moyet perhaps, does betrayal better than our Annie. The sparse backing provides a backdrop to some of Annie’s best lines. The images she plays with are disjointed, violent even – the sun displays its teeth - but her words convey a mood rather than any literal meaning. There is a brooding air of savagery hanging over the song, more vivid because it is unexpressed and waiting menacingly in the shadows.

But the Eurythmics were a duo and never more so than on this track. As the tension builds through the first two verses / choruses, a release is needed; all this musical foreplay must have its climax and this is stunningly achieved by a simple - but oh so right - solo from Dave Stewart. It’s as much about the notes that aren’t played as those that are. He puts himself into his guitar and feels his way through his solo. There is an un-80’s rawness in that guitar break, a sullen control, that matches Annie’s lyrics note for note. Other than Graham Coxon’s solo on Blur’s This is A Low, I can’t think of a guitar solo more appropriate, more understanding, of a song than this one.

Annie and Dave produced many great songs – Who’s That Girl, Julia, Here Comes The Rain Again come to mind – but I don’t believe they combine so perfectly than their collaboration on Savage. I wrote earlier about the glad-happy morning of the late 80’s. You can’t choose your time and neither can you control your era’s personal soundtrack. Of course, you filter what you hear through personal choice – which records to buy, which radio stations to listen to – but no one lives in a vacuum. My university days were the late 80’s. When so much of what was popular at the time – Kylie, Stock Aitken and Waterman, house music – retreats into the unopened drawer of memory, I’m happy that the gentle girl with the sad eyes, told me to listen to Savage. There’s a dignity in this evocation, both defiant and tender, that seems appropriate somehow.

The girl’s long gone, of course but I’ll leave it to Annie to provide the postscript:

“She said, “Everything is fiction
All cynic to the bone
So don’t ask me to stay with you
Don’t ask to see me home””

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Start the video at 1.30 for a live version of Savage.

REPOST: The Worst Beatles Tracks

(This was originally posted August 2015)

A pretty routine observation I make is that, unlike most artists, you can take any Beatles album and find an abundance of classic songs not released as a single. The sort of songs lesser artists would kill to have. Such was the embarrassment of riches within the Beatles, songs would just stack up and be used as album fodder. Which is why listening to any Beatles album is also such a joy. It’s never a couple of hits bulked out with fillers. With very few exceptions, all of the Beatles output is a consistently high standard, even when they were innovating.

So I thought, I'd compile a list of The Beatles' stinkers. There aren't many. One per album.

The Worst Beatles Tracks

Abbey Road – Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. Sorry Paul, it’s drivel.

*Beatles For Sale – Honey Don't. The Ringo badge of quality is added to this borefest. Carl Perkins also managed to write the second worst song too - Everybody's Trying to Be My Baby.

Hard Day’s Night – I’m Happy Just to Dance With You.  Paul and John did George no favours here by writing this dirge for him. Bizarrely, I covered this in my infamous Great Eastern solo gig in 1992. Knickers were not thrown.

Help! – You Like Me Too Much. Not a classic. George also wrote I Need You on the same album. Also crap.

Let It Be – For You Blue. George donated this derivative toss off to the Get Back project to protect better songs – Something, Here Comes The Sun – from a substandard album. Wise move.

Magical Mystery Tour – Yes, I know not a proper album. Flying, obviously. The Beatles do lounge music for the MMT film. Aural wallpaper.

Please Please Me – Boys. A Ringo filler. Pair an average singer with an average song and you get a sub average track. Probably worked better live at The Cavern. Or at weddings.

Revolver – Love You To. George and Indian music. Mordant vocals and cod philosophical lyrics to a raga beat. Same album as his fiery and brilliant Taxman.

Rubber Soul – What Goes On. Ringo got a writing credit for this Country and Western song. He should have held out and asked for the rights to Paperback Writer instead.

Sgt Pepper – Within In Without You. Yeah. I don’t really like George’s Indian influenced songs. This one goes on for over five minutes. It feels like it.

White Album – Revolution 9. Of course. John and Yoko's avant garde crap. Unlistenable.

With The Beatles. No weak tracks. Not one.

Yellow Submarine – Only A Northern Song. Sorry George, you again. Trying too hard to be different it just comes across as gauche and dissonant.

[Looking through the list now, it appears I’m overly critical of some of George Harrison’s contributions. Of all the Beatles, it was fair to say he got better as he got older. His voice, monosyllabic and nasal in 1963, matured by 1969 into a fine instrument. His song writing talents, sometimes okay, sometimes poor, had developed so much that by 1969 that he was able to go toe to toe with John and Paul. And win.]

Dirty work but someone's got to do it. Best album tracks next to cheer me up.

Cheers

Tim

*Beatles For Sale - Most critics say 'Mr Moonlight' is not only the worst song on the album but in the Beatles entire recording career. A bit harsh, I think. It's not a classic admittedly and the cheesy organ that George Martin adds doesn't help, and yet, and yet, I'm a fan of John Lennon's shouty voice going for big notes (Anna, Baby It's You, Happiness is a Warm Gun). Ironically Lennon's vocals were best demonstrated on the track they left off Beatles For Sale 'Leave My Kitten Alone' - now available on Anthology 1.

TOP 10 80's POP Songs

Here it - you asked for it - so I stand and deliver. Oh, dear, that’s a bad start. Suffice to say, Adam nor his ants will appear on this list (though I have a soft spot for Prince Charming, to be honest).

The only rule for this list - I had to like it at the time. You know, in the actual 80’s. And still like it now. It’s a high hurdle I set but let’s limber up and hope we don’t crash into the bar too much.

Ashes to Ashes - David Bowie (1980)

Scary, arty, new romantic cool! I remember watching this on Top of Pops with that weird and compulsive video. That strange dance on the beach, the odd costumes, the backhanded reference to Major Tom. This kicked off the decade and took it in a glamorous direction after the punk and rock of the 70’s. And the sound ain’t bad either!

Vienna - Ultravox (1981)

Cruelly kept off Number 1 by an annoying one hit wonder, this was a classy song with a kick-ass video. What’s not to like? Midge Ure wandering around Covent Garden and - yes - Vienna - in a mac with pointy sidies. Peak New Romantic but staying just the right side of pretentious. Epic song, with hypnotic piano, swelling strings and the suggestion of something mysterious, something foreign, something tragic. Still never been to Vienna.

Under Attack - Abba (1982)

Abba’s sad swan song. It did nothing in the charts and the group faded away after this. Very late-era Abba, synths, electric bass, treated vocals, I first heard this at Rochdale roller ring early 1983. it has stuck with me ever since.

To France - Mike Oldfield (1983)

Updated folk for the 80’s generation. I remember hearing the song - strangely enough - in France, sat in the back of my parents car as we drove around Brittany Probably in the rain. Maggie Reilly’s voice and the folky / medieval feel and subject matter make this an ethereal postcard from a vanished age. That age being my youth. I often return to this song when I want a good song to cook to, when I’m writing, when I want to imagine being young again.

Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood (1983)

Frankie Says… Well, if you don’t know what Frankie Says, you weren’t there. Frankie had three massive hits in 1984. They were all over the year like a rash. I got my mum to buy this single on one of her Saturday shopping trips to Rochdale. I remember being in Spain 1984 and all you could hear in the discos (yes, I said discos not clubs) was either Relax or Two Tribes in one of their many, many, 12 inch varieties. Obviously Trevor Horn created the vibe, the driving beat, and there was a shocking amount of Paul Morley ZTT inspired marketing, but, this was an era defining sound.

It’s about sex, isn’t it?

Madonna - Like A Virgin (1984)

Oh yeah! Something about time and place gets this one in the top ten. Her singing has matured and so did her production values, but this is where’s it is at. Joyous and dance-able, even for saddos with that bouncy synth beat, it calls out thirty odd years later. But to really experience it you need to be 16 and walking into a Rochdale disco with this pumping out! The smell of cheap perfume, hair spray, cigarettes and alcohol! Nothing better.

Pride - U2 (1984)

God! I loved this song. I love this song. Edge’s eternal guitar playing a special riff, Bono’s vocals, the U2 style drumming. Martin Luther King! The sound of me heading off to the pub in Rochdale for a cheeky 5 pints on Wednesdays in The Grapes or Elephant and Castle. “Are you 18, sonny?” This song is the time and place of who I am and where I came from.

Walk This Way - Aerosmith feat Run DMC (1986)

Seriously - this record still kicks arse. Rap and rock fusion! An alternative pathway which we kinda lost on the way. But boy did it produce one memorable collaboration.

Voyage Voyage - Desireless (1987)

Ah, holiday records. That’s what the 80’s were about. Who could hate Ottowan’s ‘Hands Up, Give Me Your Heart’ or FR David’s seminal ‘Words’. Add Desireless to this trio and we a one-twp-three combination of sublime 80’s French summer Euro pop. Voyage Voyage - I heard this in Benidorm in the summer of 1988 as I perused the city’s art galleries, a fragrant girl in a white dress on my arm as we discussed art and memory. Yeah. Or, maybe it was the soundtrack to being pissed up in one of the town’s clubs trying to buy girls with tattoos and bikini tops rum and cokes. One or the other. Great Euro pop though.

All Around the World - Lisa Stansfield (1989)

How could I not put Lisa Stansfield on the list? If it wasn’t a great song however, I wouldn’t have added it, but it is here on merit. The fact that she went to my school and I knew her slightly are interesting but not clinches. Lisa bookends this decade for me. We were in the school play at the start of the 80’s and she ended the decade at Number One with this song. I remember the feeling of pride when this became a smash. That was before jealousy kicked in. Why had CBS returned my demo?

(Hint: It was shit)

I will probably change my mind in five minutes, but let’s start this way, shall we?

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Lucie Silvas

Lucie. London December 2018. Picture Tim Robson

Occasionally, my judgement is wrong. Sometimes I will admit to these mistakes. Not often. Usually insincerely. But when I’m off and know it - and it doesn’t affect me to confess - I’ll write about it here.

I thought Lucie Silvas’ third album was shit when it came out. Then I saw her in concert last December and I now don’t.

There, got that off my chest.

So, as Lucie has released four albums, and I liked the other three, I now like all of them.

Lucie Who? Exactly. As I found out at her semi-secret gig recently in London, she’s a bit of a cult. I knew I was a longtime member of that cult but I didn’t know there were others too. In some ways they looked very much like me - men of a certain age, balding but - let me stress this - the similarity ends there. Didn’t realise she had such a large gay following. I suppose it was obvious really - a big voiced, attractive blonde who writes about relationships. A 2000’s Judy Garland.

In December, I took my 14 year old daughter to this sweaty Shoreditch cellar to watch Lucie. Her only other experience of live music is Taylor Swift in front of 66,000 in Hyde Park a couple of years back. But I hope she will remember this intimate evening all of her life and look back and remember when she saw the legend that is Lucie. It was a loose, make up the setlist as you go along, evening.

I first came across Lucie on 2005’s Now That’s What I Call Music 60 where Breath In was featured. Breath In is probably her biggest hit and its joyous driving pop song with a gorgeous sing-a-long chorus. It is a breath of fresh air every time I put it on. It’s on my Desert Island Discs and I notice its the 6th most played piece of music I own and the first non classical piece. The album’s pretty good too. Very white soul.

Lucie’s high point was her Second Album - The Same Side. As a whole it’s a classic - a big ballad classic but it has a trio of A songs that I always play - Almost, Already Gone and Alone. Already Gone being the perfect rock ballad with a haunting guitar break. And then there’s Passionate You. Clearly Lucie writes on the piano and her tracks often have catchy piano motifs. The title track - The Same Side - is also worth a listen. My favourite Lucie album. Sold about three copies.

Album 3 - Letters to Ghosts, I obviously didn’t listen to enough when it came out. She leaned on it heavily at the gig in December - clearly it’s her personal favourite. Guitar riff heavy Happy is the stand out track followed by the heart tugging ballad Smoke. The title track Letters to Ghosts is good (though better live tbh). And onto E.G.O. which was my fav album of 2018. First Rate Heartbreak with its stop / start riff is the standout track. She played this early and my daughter loved it.

Lucie has a raspy voice that seems to have two gears. She powers out on the low register and you think that maybe she hasn’t got the range for the top notes. But then her higher register kicks in and she hits the notes perfectly. It’s an attractive combination. I often credit Silvas with my gradual shift away from male cock-rocking blues based music to something wider, something more feminine. It was a good change.

She should be more famous.

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The video below is a raw, amateur shot version of Breath In but I think it captures something of the fun and involvement of a Lucie concert.

2018: Tim Robson's Music Review

Tim Robson’s 2018 Music Review

Yeah

I downloaded 255 songs in 2018. Or in some cases uploaded. But mainly downloaded.

255 songs.

Obviously, not all of these were released in 2018. In fact, most of them weren’t. There was lots of classical - and that’s like really old kids - and from Sinatra in the 40’s my downloads were pretty consistent through the following decades. I’m eclectic, man.

And yes, there were plenty of 2018 tracks. I have two teenage daughters and so its inevitable, even if I wasn’t such a hep-cat, that I’d have plenty of new material anyway from 2018.

So, here are my 2018 Musical Downloads (and sometimes uploads) Awards!!

2018 Award

Well, the most played was SZA (who?) with Calvin Harris and The Weekend. I detect the hands of my daughters on this one. It’s a good track but a bit morally dubious - two hot chicks decide to share a man on different days during the week. Who’s been reading my diary?

My favourite new release in 2018 was Lucie Silvas and E.G.O. and the standout track was First Rate Heartbreak. I saw Lucie in London in December so maybe I’m biased. Criminally under-rated but always brilliant Luice is - I found out - also great live. See the coming article on Lucie and her music.

Other notable 2018 songs were - Clean Bandit and Marina - Baby and also James Bay Strawberry Lemonade. I’m pleased for Marina (and the Diamonds) as her Primadonna Girl is a favourite of mine.

Best re-release in 2018 was Gene Clark Sings For You - a cache of Gene demos from 1967. The best track? Past My Door

(Hard to) Find of the Year

Musical find was Terry Hall’s two mid 90’s albums - Home and Laugh. I bought the Forever J single in 1994 and it became one of my favourite records ever - an evergreen candidate for Tim’s Desert Island Discs. I could never find the parent album but this year - probably thanks to dodgy Russian websites - I did! Favourite track - No No No. Fun fact - I found that the best tracks on both albums were written along with Craig Gannon. Yes, he of the latter day Smiths. Also good is Grief Disguised as Joy.

Live in 2018 Award

The runaway winner is - of course Lucie Silvas live December 2018 at The Courthouse London. An intimate, bonus gig for Lucie diehards, it was a close, hot, sweaty, amazing gig. Lucie was relaxed, taking requests and did songs old and new. She belted out stuff from her old albums (Breath In, Twisting the Chain), several from E.G.O. and plenty in between. Best song - Happy.

As some of you may know, I went to the 2018 Brit Awards and so had the opportunity to see no-marks like Duo Lipa lip sync whilst wearing jack-all and talk bollocks about feminism. Of course, Lord Liam of Gallagher, did an excellent Live Forever which went someway to atone for the fact I missed Oasis in the 90’s when I could have easily seen them. Here’s the video I shot which is basically a Liam / Tim duet. Sorry folks. Also, the picture is shit.

But, Justin Timberlake was also good. Especially Say Something with some beardy called Stumblebum or something. I downloaded the track and its one of the most listened to songs in 2018 (helps I got it in Feb, of course)! Most of the rest on the night were shit.

Classical Download 2018

I got into Georg Telemann in 2018. Thanks to my membership of Wandsworth Libraries, I get 3 free downloads per week from their catelogue and Spring was spent downloading - slowly - various notable Telemann concertos. And my favourite? See opposite - Concerto in E Minor for Oboe and Strings - Andante.

Why did I download this crap Award 2018

There’s no contest for this one. Some bollocks German Rap (why Tim, why?). The artist (?) is called Summer Cem and his gem which he curled off for the world is called Tamam Tamam. Look it up. I like Sandra, Nena and er, weren’t The Scorpians German? But this… What was I thinking?

Up My Own Arse Award 2018

This award is given to pretentious music I probably won’t listen to. I see I downloaded loads of early acoustic Dylan - Girl From the North Country, Masters of War, Corrina Corrina. No, not listened to them. I got sucker’d into downloading a couple of David Hemmings tracks because of the Gene Clark connection. Face palmly shit. Avoid. But, I think my deep exploration of Bossa Nova wins the award for 2018. Downloaded (too many) tracks from 60’s diva Sylvia Telles. I like a bit of Corcovado or Insensatez (especially when Anglicised by the Monkees - hey I’m versatile). But Dindi or Sol Da Meia-Noite are definitely there just for show.

So - there is my musical review of the year.

Anyway, I’ll leave you with a Christmas classic, well at least in my house (when no one else is around). It’s the cardigan wearing, bluesfest we call ‘Santa Claus is Back in Town’ from two years ago. I miss that cardigan.

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