7 inch single collection: Amen Corner - Hello Susie

Grooving their way out of Wales it's...

AMEN CORNER


A: Hello Susie
B: Evil Man's Gonna Win
(Immediate 1969)


I can't give you much information on Amen Corner, other that they came out of the R'n'B boom from earlier in the sixties.

Originally on the British psychedelic label they transferred to the Immediate label, business of Rolling Stones manager, Andrew Loog Oldham. Probably a better fit as they were in the company of more soulful, bluesier sounding artistes like P.P.Arnold, The Small Faces and Humble Pie.

They became known for the just on the right side of saucy sounding "Bend Me, Shape Me", and then went on to have a number one hit in the form of the more more wistful "(If Paradise Is) Half As Nice" - so they were flying high prior to this record's release, although oddly failed to have any more hits after. Frontman Andy Fairweather Low, went on to have a long and solid successful solo career, and is still doing the round, I believe.

There's a blast of horns at the beginning of Hello Susie that instantly invokes bluesy soul music of Stax. The funky guitar licks and pumping piano sound just add further emphasis to that sound. Fairweather Low's voice has a pleasing rasp, and an urgency of tone that drives the tune forward. There's a few frilly slightly psychedelic organ bits in there that firmly place this record in the late sixties - but that's no bad thing, it adds shade to the sound, and throws complexity into what is, essentially a party record. You'll notice from the label that this tune was written by one R.Wood, and yes, I do believe that is Roy Wood, soon to become famous with Wizzard.

Evil Man's Gonna Win is a bit of a disturbing sentiment for a song title, but if there's any truth in the old saying that the Devil has all the best tunes, then maybe there's something in it. The Devil's music is, of course, the blues, and this track starts off much bluesier than the a-side.The guitar, bass and drums forming a laid groove, which is kicked up a gear within the introduction of funky organ. The song's title is then chanted over this groove for a few time. Then it slips back into it the original instrumental groove, and repeats. The record fades out, and you can easily believe that somewhere the band are stilling playing this take lost in their hypnotic groove.

If you want the place where blues meets blue-eyed soul meets psychedelia then this is it. It captures the essence of a time and place, whilst somehow being timeless and infinite. I quite like it.

Next Time some proper Rock 'n' Roll being pressed into service to sell jeans...

7 inch single collection: The Smiths - Sheila Take a Bow

Possibly the most "indie" indie band ever...

THE SMITHS

A: Sheila Take a Bow
B: Is It Really So Strange?
(Rough Trade 1987)

So here we are at The Smiths, and I'll confess that I didn't like them when they first came onto the scene, despite my cooler friends* trying to turn me on to them.

I had bought into the mythology that all their songs were depressing and miserable, and thought that Morrissey's voice was a bit of a whiny drone.

What changed my mind (somewhat) was the song "Ask". I heard this song, no scratch that I read a review of this song, that said something along the lines of Johnny Marr's guitar sounding like Hank Marvin - which if you know me is enough to set hares running. So I sought out "Ask", harder to do in those pre-internet days, (I think I eventually caught it on the Chart Show on Channel 4, one Saturday morning), and found it to be a thing of joy and beauty. I won't be coming to that single later 'cos I bought it on 12 inch - which falls without the scope of this blog. However it lead to a re-evaluation of The Smiths, and a realisation that maybe I'd judged based on ill founded pre-conceptions.

I'm not saying that I became a huge fan, but I did begin to like them a lot. These days I' much more ambivalent - they're not a group that I listen to often, but when I do I need to be in the right mood. I vacillate between thinking that Morrissey's lyrics are pretentious twaddle pretending to be deep and meaningful and them actually having some substance. Very much like their record covers of colour-washed, often slightly obscure, celebrities is either fantastic or utterly trite.  One thing that I am sure of is that most of the tunes, the instrumentation and playing are all to notch.

Sheila Takes a Bow is a bouncy little number, that belies the miserable reputation, with a message of going out and kicking life in the crotch rather than sitting round and moping. At least I'm guessing that's what it means because it's Morrissey's intonation always tends to land on the side of ironic, or sardonic even when he's being sincere. I know that everyone goes on about Morrissey/Marr being The Smiths, but this track in particular is buoyed along and, and enhanced by the bass and drums. So kudos to Messrs Rourke and Gannon to their contribution. Being just over two and a half minutes long may make this song feel less weighty, but it's probably the perfect length, for what is essentially a pop song.

The flipside of this single is a ditty entitled Is Is Really So Strange? What is strange are the references to killing a horse, killing a nun and leaving a bag in Newport Pagnell, a combination of odd and mundane, that feels like a self-conscious attempt to be different to everything else, but could just have easily been chucked in carelessly because they fitted the rhythm and melody. It maintains the bouncy feeling of the a-side, and even during the chorus has tiny bursts of rockabilly guitar - which is one of those things that happens in Smiths, and Morrissey solo records that keeps me interested in listening to them.

I enjoyed listening to this record, and whilst it's from the latter end of The Smiths' career, which many aficionados, feel is lesser, it's still one of their more entertaining records.

*Oh who am I kidding, all of my friends were** cooler than me.
** still are

Next Time a bit of Welsh pyschedelic blue-eyed soul...

7 inch single collection: L7 - Shove

Here comes some grunge...


L7


A: Shove
B: Fast
(Sub Pop 1990)


Grunge...Grunge...Grunge - what a word - it's so evocative. It's a messy, sludgy kind of word, all rough and ready, noisy, no airs and graces, just plaid shirts and old jeans. This single word encapsulates a style of music , so completely, that even people who've never heard this music know exactly what'll it'll sound like from the name. Part punk, part metal, and all attitude.

Seattle based label Sub Pop were the prime purveyors of top quality grunge, being home to Mudhoney, and the nascent Nirvana amongst others. L7's early career, as seen on this record, also had them spend some time with this cult label.

L7 were (maybe still are - not sure of their current status) an all female grunge band, who had some minor success in the charts. They had a very memorable appearance on "The Word" performing Pretend We're Dead - look it up on YouTube. That was a little after this record though, and when they'd moved to a more rock/metal sound and had reduced some the punk elements (the sound, if not the attitude!)

Shove is loud and heavy. The music has a viscous lava-like quality - it's hot, sludgy thing that rolls inevitably forward, anything in the way is just going to get rolled over. The lyrics match this feeling, going beyond the assertive, and well into the aggressive, and because of that it's feminist without pushing the political cause, by which I mean these women making this record stands as feminist statement without actually anyone saying this is what it is. Very much action rather than words - impressive. In it's own way it's prototype for the riot grrrl movement which would emerging from grunge around this time.

One the other side of the record is Fast (apparently slightly different to the LP version, called "Fast and Frightening"). Yes, it faster than the a-side, it's got a raucous fluidity of sound, still powering hard onwards, and with nothing to stop it. Whereas Shove announces its presence as it lumbers scarily towards you, Fast is upon you before you know it. It's as 'in your face', with maybe a little less aggression than the a-side.

I was going to say that this is a great grunge record, but actually it's a great record full stop. Melodically and lyrically it's strong and bold statement that sticks around in your head for a long while after.

Next time the archetypal indie miserablists...

7 inch single collection: Ringo Starr - Wrack My Brain

It's everybody's favourite Beatle, it's...


RINGO STARR


A: Wrack My Brain
B; Drumming is My Madness
(RCA 1981)


So, Ringo...hmmmm. I'm not sure how to start this one. I like Ringo, I'm sure many people do, he actually seems like the most personable member of The Beatles, but he seems to be the butt of so many jokes, and the popular perception is that he's not as good (musically) as the other three. Although this is not not uncommon perception with drummers. I reckon it's a bit unfair - I know that I couldn't do what Ringo does, and I've never heard a track on which he's performing and thought it sounded wrong, or too basic. In fact if his work is complementing and supporting melody, then actual he's doing his job and doing it well. Also he's not one of these jazz or rock drummers that think they's God's gift to percussion, and exercises it with lengthy, often interminable drum solos - nope - his work work is tight, and on the beat - just what is needed. Of course then he has to and go and sing...

Ringo Starr is unlikely to grace anyone's list of top 100 pop and rock vocalists - that's fine when making those kinds of lists many perfectly adequate and acceptable singers get left off, and Ringo is a perfectly adequate singer. This sounds like damning with faint praise, but there's plenty of mediocre singers out there who are more highly rated because the slack is taken up by the skill of their band, the orchestration and arrangement of their songs.

Wrack My Brain* is bright and breezy slice of pop. Honestly not much can be said, it's light, it's actually quite catchy. The guitar solo comes slightly from left field as it's a little (but not too much) country inflected. This goes for the little snatches of honky tonk sounding piano that pepper the arrangement. I quite like it, except just at they end when it ends in some very odd synthesised backing vocals - but that's a minor quibble.

Flipping the platter over we find Drumming is My Madness - which is good to know, that Ringo has a passion for his day job! Although the drumming here is doing nothing that particularly stands out - instead it's got a quirky groove, lead by a guitar, it's quite bassy, with some fun horns filling in. There's a couple of small drum breakouts, but actual there's a flute solo that stands out more. Ringo's singing is lesser than on the a-side of this disc. He alternately sounds either bored or amused at doing this, it's like this is just a fun piece that he's knocking off for himself, without ever anticipating that it'll see the light of day.

This record is light-hearted fun - never likely to trouble either the charts or serious musos, but as a snack between heavier bits of music it cleanses the palette, without filling you up.

*OK - so research is going against the ethos of this blog, but Wrack or Rack? I have a Yardbirds single called Rack My Mind (due on this blog one day!) - so surely one of these is wrong and I can get on my high horse about it! No - turns out that either are acceptable spellings, Wrack maybe slightly more old-fashioned, but it's just as acceptable.

Next Time some proper grunge...

7 inch single collection: Sandie Shaw - Puppet on a String

It's winner of the 1967 Eurovision Song Contest, it's...


SANDIE SHAW

A: Puppet on a String
B: Tell the Boys
(Pye 1967)


In England, at least, the Eurovision Song Contest seems to have become a bit of a joke. Public perception of it seems to have come round to the view that it's a slightly overlong camp-fest not worth taking seriously. Many people believe that it's only worth watching for the scores, and seeing how politically inclined they are. It's probably sour grapes - surely the nation that gave the world The Beatles, The Stones, Bowie, Queen and The Spice Girls should have no problems winning a song contest. Well, we do have problems, and we have done for a while, but it's not always been so - we've won it on a few occasions, and come second many more, and the shebang used to get taken relatively seriously.*

Puppet on a String was the winner in 1967, and was performed by popular singer Sandie Shaw - she'd had many hits before this time including a couple of number ones, and so was yer actual proper bona fide star. Popular myth is that Sandie hated this song (or maybe it's legacy and effect upon her career) - although she may have come to something of a rapprochement with it in the more recently. Back in those days a singer was chosen, and they were given a number of songs and the one that was the most popular was the chosen entry - so if you were the singer you could get landed with a right stinker of a song. Puppet on a String is not a right stinker, it's a pleasant upbeat number, that has a persistent oompah-oompah beat (just exactly how every Eurovision sceptic thinks every Eurovision song sounds!) I can imagine if this followed you round for years, it would stop being so pleasant, and could haunt your nightmares - so it's easy to forgive Sandie Shaw of any antipathy towards this song. Also I have to point out a bit of lyrically befuddlement - she sings about winning and losing on swings and roundabouts - both of these I've always held to be non-competitive activities. Surely winning on either of these is not ending up at your nearest spinal injuries unit.

On the flip-side Tell The Boys has a bit more to it. It's still up-beat and cheery lyrically, and makes full use of the brass section of the orchestra, but it has more nuance and shade to it - it's not so relentless. The verses have an accompaniment that feels almost minor key, this gives and edge to the optimistic lyrics. Also Sandie Shaw sounds invested in the emotion of this song. I think it's a little beauty, which is why (in a change from tradition) I've added a youtube link to this track too!

So a record of two halves, one half a bit of entertaining frippery, but the second a minor classic that should be me more widely celebrated.

* I don't mind the Eurovision - (I don't go out of my way to watch these days, though) - I quite enjoy hearing what other cultures think is the perfect distillation of a pop song.

Next time a solo Beatle, but probably not the one you're hoping for...

7 inch single collection: Duane Eddy - Cannonball

Twangy guitars echoing from the mists of time...

Duane Eddy

A: Cannonball
B: Mason Dixon Lion
(London 1958)

I don't know if you ever peruse the lists of greatest ever guitarists that you occasionally find in music magazines (and probably on the internet too these days), but I would have a skim through them. It depends on the publication as to who'd be on the list. A more populist one would probably have the likes of Clapton and May in there - the kind of chaps most people would have heard of. The more guitar specialist ones would end up with people like Vai and Malmsteen heading the lists - the kind of people who can play lots of notes really fast, but are less fussed about actually melody. I'd look for three people on those lists: Hank Marvin (he'd usually be there somewhere), Bert Weedon (often in the British lists), and Duane Eddy (often completely absent). The frequent absence of Duane Eddy is something that still bothers me today. He is someone who played solid guitar rock 'n' roll instrumentals and between about 1958 and 1963 was a constant presence in the charts. Maybe much of tunes were simple, but I reckon that they weren't simplistic. They were certainly catchy and danceable, and therefore I reckon that his contribution to the popularisation of guitar music has been understated.

You'll recognise a Duane Eddy record is you hear it - as with all the true greats, you can tell it's them playing just from a few notes. The booming, bassy, echoing sound, became his trademark. if you need one word to describe Duane Eddy's sound it's TWANG! He (or at least his marketing guys) recognised this because there are many albums that have some variation of this word in them:
Have Twangy Guitar Will Travel, The Twang's The Thang, $1,000,000 Worth of Twang, you get the picture! Look at the record label above - the twangy guitar gets second billing above the rest of the band.

If ever there was a typical Duane Eddy track that you could point to and say, that's what he's all about the Cannonball is that track. A twangy (really no other word for it) upbeat repeated riff, that starts off rocking and builds tempo, adding in finger clips, and claps, then the saxophone and yelps as it builds up momentum. The suddenly the saxophone breaks loose and goes wild for short period, before returning to the steady rocking riff ready to build up that momentum again. This is good stuff.

If you're naming an instrumental one way is to give it an evocative name - something that connects the sounds to a strong feeling of time or place. Alternatively you could use a stupid pun, like Mason Dixon Lion, (both ways are valid, but I do prefer one - no prizes for guessing which). This b-side is very similar in feel to the a-side - maybe a bit slower in tempo - but a bassy looping guitar riff, with less yelping , but some whistling and La-La-ing from the backing singers. Once again heading to a middle bit where the saxophonist goes wild (I'm not really much of a saxophone phone fan, but a wise bear once told me that to appreciate a Duane Eddy record you need to appreciate the saxophone, and this is very true), before settling back down in to the groove of the tune.

So there you go a - both sides equate to a single 4-minute party on one slab of 7 inch vinyl. Nothing here to transcend the nature of being or to make you reach new heights of revelation, just a bit of loose and wild fun something we can all do with in these times.

Next time we're of to the Eurovision Song Contest...

7 inch single collection: Ray Moore - O' My Father had a Rabbit

Some old charity nonsense…

Ray Moore

A: O’ My Father had a Rabbit
B: O’ My Father had a Rabbit (Instrumental Version)
(Play 1986)

There’s a breed of DJ that is lugubrious, self-deprecating, warm and friendly. They were particularly to be found on Radio 2, and Terry Wogan was the king of such. Ken Bruce may well be the last remaining example still in the wild. Ray Moore was one of these – I remember his occasionally catching his radio show, preceding Wogan, if I was up early enough in the morning. It always felt good-humoured and made an easy way to start the day with a smile. Moore, himself died young from cancer, but he has left us with a very silly legacy indeed.

I don’t know where O’ My Father had a Rabbit came from originally – if it was some daft folk rhyme, or specially written for this record. The writing credit on the label is to Conors – and I have reason to believe that this is the legendary ‘Shag’ Conors, who with his group the Carrot Crunchers were a leading light in the Scrumpy & Western genre*. (Indeed the linked YouTube performance from Wogan features Conors, his band and a few bemused looking Radio 2 DJs). This song has a lolloping, oompah of a beat, over which Moore intones the lyrics in a deadpan manner, suddenly going all Scouse as the song shudders to a standstill. Objectively this is neither good, nor particularly challenging music – however it’s not meant to be. It is clearly meant to been seen as something slightly stupid, so that you’ve got an excuse to dip into your pocket and fork out for Children In Need. The fact that it doesn’t pretend to be anything other that what it is, and there’s no over earnest sentiment involved, is, in fact, what lifts this record into being a joyous little moment. When I hear it makes me smile, and then it’s gone, and that’s it – job done! If all charity singles were like this, instead of deeply serious sing-a-longs with multi-millionaires then I’d be very well-disposed to charity records; rather than my usual Grinch-like attitude.

If we flip the record over – we can hear O’ My Father had a Rabbit all over again – only this time without Ray Moore intoning all over the top of it. Fortunately the lyrics are printed on the back of the sleeve, so you can join in, safe in the knowledge that what you sing will be no worse than what is on the a-side. Also on the back of the sleeve are a number of mildly amusing “critical” quotes from Moore’s peers at Radio 2 – enough to raise a wry smile.

In the end it’s a novelty for charity, that doesn’t have pretence to be anything else – so I’m inclined to feel warm and slightly fuzzy towards this record. Also, despite not having listened to this since about 1986, I could still recall the tune and the opening stanza:

‘O’ My Father had a rabbit,
But he thought it was a duck,
So he stuck it in the oven
With its legs tucked up.’

So, obviously this record does has a certain something going for it that defies all rational explanation.

*for those of you who are unsure of what Scrumpy & Western sounds like then think The Wurzels, (especially in their earlier years with Adge Cutler), and you’ll be there.

Next Time…TWANG! Back to the 50’s

7 inch single collection: The Screaming Blue Messiahs - I Wanna Be A Flintsone

What does a caveman with a transistor radio listen to? Rock Music!

The Screaming Blue Messiahs

A: I Wanna Be A Flintstone

B: Jerry's Electric Church

(WEA 1988)

Somewhere between Rockabilly and Psychobilly (judging by this record alone, I'd be tempted to call it Sillybilly!), with a similar feel to the music as bands like Westworld (of whom more to come in another future blog entry).

I know nothing else about the band. I've got a 12 inch single of a Peel session of theirs, but am totally unable to recall anything of that so that's not going to help.

Just an aside – the lack of hair of the singer adds to a select group of bald rock stars. He joins such luminaries as Buster Bloodvessel from Bad Manners, Rob Halford from Judas Priest, Sal Solo from Classix Novaeux and, I don’t know – ‘Angry’ Anderson maybe…

It’s a risky strategy; coming up with a catchy, but ultimately daft, and throwaway song. It can catch people’s attention, and get popular (I remember seeing this on Top of The Pops), but then you’re potentially tarred with that brush forever. That’s fine if you want to carry on making silly songs, but if you want people to take you seriously, it may not be the best career move. There’s a great driving rockabilly style beat going on through I Wanna Be a Flintstone, and the Flintstones related lyrics samples, and silly voices bring a sense of fun to the record. However it isn’t particularly deep, and doesn’t really go anywhere. It stops becoming repetitive by the virtue of being short –suggesting that the band were canny enough to know that the joke has a time limit.

Turning the record over we find a tune called Jerry’s Electric Church. This starts with some extracts of suitably churchy sounds; prayer, sermons and the like. Then there’s a helicopter drone and a schplang of guitars, whereupon the old rockabilly style beat kicks in, which coupled with some nifty riffery drives the song along. I’m afraid that I found the lyrics incomprehensible (sorry I must try harder next time). I’m hoping that it was a coruscating take down of the hypocrisy of modern organised religion, (bearing in mind the song’s title), but it could just has equally been as silly as the a-side.

This is a fun record – but the kind that you hear, smile at, nod in appreciation, and then probably forget about for the rest of your life. A shame as I think this band seem to have more to them than a Flintstones addiction. I must dig out that Peel Sessions E.P. and give it another go.

Next time, an even more ridiculous record…