7 Inch Singles Collection: Blur - Bang

At the early days of Britpop we find...

BLUR

A: Bang

B: Luminous

(Food 1991)

Do I really need to explain who Blur are? Giants of the Britpop scene, and perennial rivals to Oasis; although I suspect that much of that nonsense from the creation of that genre to the rivalry stories comes as much from the minds of desperate music journalists as does from reality. I imagine that most of the people involved just wanted to try and make the best music that they could.

This is before those megastar days though, they'd just had a little bit of success, and were trying to follow that up, however this record was not to be that, they'd have to wait a few more years before truly exploding on the scene!

Before Brtipop there was the 'Baggy/Madchester' scene, (another convenient box to drop similar sounding stuff into!), and Bang surfs along the dying waves of that sound, and could easily fit in with records by such acts as The Farm (reviewed here), Northside or My Jealous God (both to be reviewed at a later date should I ever get round to it...). Bang has that slightly funky beat with groovy guitars, that sounds very similar to a lot of other records at the time, including previous Blur records! There's nothing particularly bad or poor about it, nether is there anything particularly noteworthy or idiosyncratically Blur about it. You can only tell it's Blur because of Damon's very recognisable voice; even there there's very little energy or enthusiasm to his signing. It feels like it was released because the record company wanted something that would fit in with what else was going on at the time. Apparently the band don't particularly like it, and seem to feel very much the same way about it.

At least the intro on the flipside, Luminous, grabs the attention by being something different starting with a cymbal heavy percussion section for about 20 seconds before the guitars kick in. This has a slightly dreamy blissed-out feeling which is helped by the slightly psychedelic sounds emanating from bass and guitar. Yes, it does feel that the inspiration for this comes more from the late 60's than form more contemporary sounds, whilst still feeling modern (well 1991 modern!). It's laid back and very atmospheric, and crucially shows that there's more to Blur than the aside would show.

So an interesting side-track to the early days of a major recording artist - one where the record company, in an effort to catch the zeitgeist actually have stifled the true creativity of the band. There is little in Bang to take notice of - it's there and not unpleasant, but not memorable, it's another record where the b-side shows the true measure of the band and hints that they have much more interesting stuff within them.

Next time something blonde...

7 inch Singles Collection: The Jesus and Mary Chain - Blues from A Gun

Menaces with melody it's...

THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN

A: Blues from a Gun

B: Shimmer

(Blanco Y Negro 1989)

I do very much enjoy the Jesus and Mary Chain (hereafter JAMC), so this is not going to be an unbiased piece of writing, so expect no scathing review here.For me the worst that can be said about them is that some of their stuff sounds a bit samey - but as I happen to like that sound that doesn't actually bother me much.

I think that the best description of JAMC that I ever read was in the Melody Maker (RIP) probably in the late 80's; maybe even at the time of this record or it's parent album. They described the sound of JAMC as "The Velvet Underground meets The Beach Boys" - well, not only are they two of my favourite bands, but I think that's a pretty accurate description. They have beautiful memorable pop melodies, whilst simultaneously being dark and fuzzy, and giving the impression that given have a chance those melodies will knife you in dark back alley without compunction. The JAMC is probably the ultimate example of brothers in bands falling out with each other - forget the petty squabbles of Gallaghers in Oasis, or the Davies brothers in The Kinks, Jim & William Reid seemed at times to only millisecond away from killing each other, and whilst I imagine that was quite debilitating to them, it fed into their sound giving it an extra layer of darkness and depth. 

 

Blues from a Gun was the lead single from their third album 'Automatic', by which time there had been a little polishing of some the rougher edges to their sound, but not enough as to neuter it.It starts with a fuzzy, swaggering guitar, and a rattling drum beat that underpins the whole song. The vocals are as expected, cocky, and self-assured, arrogant even, perfectly matching the feel of the music. Lyrically it's about depression and despair, but  delivered in a such a matter-of-fact way that that's just how the world is, that it adds to the overall menace of the music. It's that menace and darkness that oozes out of the song that actually makes it appealing.

Flipping the record over we get a track called Shimmer, and, you know what that's not an inappropriate name. The tempo has dropped from the a-side, and instead of chugging the guitars and chiming and indeed shimmering.It doesn't have the hooks of Blues from a Gun, but instead just kind of hangs there - crucially though it's short enough that I don't get fed up with it. It's there, and I like it when it's there, but when it's gone, I probably won't think about again; unlike the a-side which is still in my head as I am typing this.

I'm not ever going to say bad things about a JAMC record - so not much point in summarising this, other than - that was good. I enjoyed it, and I know I will enjoy it next time I listen to again.

Next time we paddle in the early shallows of Britpop giants...

7 inch Singles Collection: All About Eve - What Kind of Fool?

 A little bit of soft Goth...

ALL ABOUT EVE

A: What Kind of Fool

B: Gold and Silver

(Mercury 1988)

I've talked about All About Eve before and how they were always considered a bit Goth, but in my opinion that's a bit of convenient pigeonholing, and not completely accurate. So I won't blather on about that here. Instead I'll mention the whole romantic imagery that they had at this time. If you have a look at the official video (you can find it yourself - I have, as ever gone for my preferred option of Top of Pops clip in the above link) - they all look like like they've be clothed and housed by the Bronte sisters. Julianne Regan pulls off the dichotomous feat of looking and sounding strong, independent and self-assured whilst at the same time maintaining am aspect of delicate and demur innocence. Whilst the lads in the band are all baggy sleeved shirts and weskits - looking like they're just going out on the moors to looking pensively into the sunset and write poetry. Byronesque, is the epithet that I'm, reluctantly, reaching for.

Even without all the visuals What Kind of Fool feels autumnal. There a rumbling minor key intro that borders on the menacing, before the vocals kick in evoking a feeling of wistfulness, and this first verse is by a low drone, the occasional chime and cymbal shimmer, the melody being almost entirely with the voice. When the chorus arrives it like (and I know I'm extending the metaphor unrealistically beyond breaking point now) coming out of the dark wood and bursting out on to a windswept moor on a late October afternoon. The supporting instrumentation starts to filter in and tone of the melody changes from a timid nervousness to something stronger and more assertive. It keeps this up throughout the rest of the song, but there are still hints of menace lurking in the background when the strings make themselves heard. At the time I remember preferring some of their other records, but listening back to this now, I might be tempted to change my mind.

The (surprisingly long) intro of the b-side, Gold and Silver, has a harder rockier feel, with prominent drums and guitars and an ooohhing vocal over the top, which culminates in a huge (unmistakably All Eve) guitar part, then the vocals ease in, like oil on troubled waters calming things down, but this momentary as the strong chorus crashes in. The song goes on in this fashion with a very rock - almost metal guitar solo in the middle. As with the a-side it's better than I remember.

After that I'm left wondering why I don't listen to All About Eve more often these days. That was a good record - both sides of it, What Kind of Fool probably has the edge, but only slightly. I've got plenty more of their singles to come in the future-so I'm looking forward to that.

Next time another band that gets occasionally gets lumped into the periphery of Goth, but definitely isn't...

7 inch Singles Collection: Pigbag - Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag

 Jazz-Funk from straight outta the 'hood (well, Cheltenham...)

PIGBAG

A: Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag

B: The Backside

(Y Records 1981)

Pigbag were a collective from my neck of the woods, Cheltenham rather than Gloucester, but to most of you that's probably close enough, however their heyday was in the years before I was going to gigs, so I never got to see them live. Maybe I wouldn't have, anyway, as their sound was a jazz/funk fusion - a hybrid of two genres neither of which I'm particularly intimate with, and consequently not something I'd be instinctively drawn to. They may even still be around - I found some relatively recent clips on Youtube when looking for an accompanying video - but if so I'd reckon that they're playing at the kinds of places that fall well below my radar.

If you don't recognise, the name of the record or the name of the band, there's a solid chance that you'll get that feeling of recognition when you hear the Ba Ba Ba-Baaa Ba Ba Ba Ba parping of the trumpet on Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag. It's the kind of thing that will get used on sporting broadcasts, and has also been heavily sampled on a number other hits. It's the bass-line and percussion that starts this tune off - the bass follow the same structure as that trumpet riff, just mentioned. The the trumpet comes in bold as brass (pun intended) then literally all hell breaks loose - This is the kind of thing that people who don't like jazz complain about - the sax goes off on some wild meandering, barely melodic, bit of free-form nonsense, and this happens a few throughout the record with trumpet as well as saxophone. These are interspersed with the cool and iconic trumpet riff. What makes this more than some jazzy self-indulgence is that bass and percussion. They are both there in the background, insistent, driving, and mightily epic. They build an infectious groove that can lift even the most sedentary among us into movement, and it's an earworm too, with no lyrics to focus on that groove lodges in your head, and works it's way down into your body, and days after hearing it you find yourself bopping along to that rhythm, which has been ensnared in you subconscious. If that's not enough, the whole tune takes an unexpected turn at the end when the trumpets and saxes disappear, and even that bassline fades out and for the last 30 seconds everyone transitions into playing percussion, and it ends on an inferno of drums, bongos, and other scraping and rattling sounds - by all rights this should be awful, but its not, because the same groove that's infected you lives in these instruments and this percussive breakdown, somehow helps brings the experience to a satisfying conclusion.

On the backside of the the record is The Backside - an excellent pun taking opportunity grasped, and applaud the band for it. Could it be more that that though, perchance it'll be some ode to callipygian wondrousness, just for double the pun. No, the fact is that nothing could be further from the truth, this tune starts out with sound fragments and odd fractured elements of noise. It's disquieting and disturbing, it's the sound of desolation and the aftermath of an apocalypse. In the mix amongst all the odd wind and brass tones there's a distant wordless wailing and occasional screams - about two minutes in this dissipates and a funky bass rhythm starts up - it's short and fast and repeated phrase, supported by tom-toms and other percussion, it keeps repeating for a while then gradually speeds up and the record comes to the end. Whilst this is happening fragments of the earlier part of the record drift in and out of the background, then suddenly it's over. 

Just Papa's got a Brand New Pigbag is enough to make this one of the more unlikely records to have been a big hit, but the b-side just makes that even stranger. A fantastic record, which is made up of one tune that will forever live in my head rent free, and another that is barely a tune, but nonetheless is capable of evoking powerful sensations.

Next time back to some melodic goth sounds...

7 inch Singles Collection: Peter Noone & Hermans Hermits - Lady Barbara

Popular in the 60's,now trying to take on the 70's...

PETER NOONE & HERMAN'S HERMITS

A: Lady Barbara

B: Don't Just Stand There

(RAK 1970)

Herman's Hermits had an odd sort of career; over here in the UK they were purveyors of fine crafted pop hits (Silhouettes, No Milk Today, I'm Into Something Good, There's a Kind of Hush - all bona fide sing-a-long classics), but  in the states they seemed to be some kind of slightly jokey music hall act having big hits with I'm 'Enery The Eighth, and Mrs. Brown, You've Got A lovely Daughter. An interesting approach to take - presumably distinguishing themselves from the other first wave of British invasion acts by add an extra amount English eccentricity to their output. Fair-do's to them it seems to have worked-at least until the 60's gave way to make way for a new decade, and this is where we find them in 1970, with what turned out to be their last single. 

I don't know if the band knew at the time it was going to be their last record, but billing them as Peter Noone* & Herman's Hermits, says that someone at the record company knew that this was the end and labelling it as such would be a great way to transition into the lead singer's solo career. Which incidentally went nowhere fast, apart from an unlikely hit version of Bowie's Oh!You Pretty Things.

Lady Barbara** is an odd song (especially for a band winding down their career) - it doesn't really have echoes of the poppy sensibilities, or indeed their more vaudevillian excesses. That's not to say that it's not catchy (one of the writers was Errol Brown - soon to be making an impact upon the charts with the smooth pop stylings of Hot Chocolate). The song is a bit all over the place starting slowly with a slightly folksy feel with a tremulous backing of what could be lutes, mandolins or balalaikas, which then sudden steps up a (slight) gear when a full string backing pops up with the main melody. The acoustic nature of the piece gives it a bucolic ambience, but this is not your rural rustic idyll, but instead the song breaks down briefly into something that wouldn't sound out of place to one of those formal balls that crop up in adaptations of Jane Austen novels, it then turns into a bit of a slow sing-a-long, before returning to the more up-tempo melody, and then back to the Gavotte again and so on. A strange record, but not unlikeable for all that.

Flipping the disc over we find something more traditional in the shape of Don't Just Stand There. There the expected guitars, bass and drum sound of the beat era - but this isn't fast paced belter. Once again we're going for the slower ballad, and this one has an added melancholy curtesy of an honky-tonk piano there's some country guitar sounds in the background, and you think were headed out west with a a sad country song. Then it starts building up speed, and sticks a jazz organ in the instrumentation for the chorus, and even starts to sound a bit jolly in places, and suddenly we've got an up-beat country pop fusion that swings and sways quite pleasantly lead.

And so Herman's Hermits*** end their career not with bang, but not with a whimper either, instead with an enjoyable curiosity. This may not be an essential record, but it's an engaging detour

Next time some irresistible porcine funkiness...

* Honestly 7 years later he could have just added a hyphen and become Peter No-One, and fitted nicely into the Punk/New Wave nihilistic aesthetic.

**For ages I thought this was a song about someone from the Salvation Army until I realised that I was conflating it with the film Major Barbara

***A band who got their name because a pub landlord thought that Peter Noone looked like the character Sherman from the Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoons.

7 inch single collection: Eddie Cochran - C'Mon Everybody

If we play some cool music will you please buy our jeans...

EDDIE COCHRAN

A: C'Mon Everybody
B: Don't Ever Let Me Go

(Liberty 1959)

 

Of course this is not the original 1959 release of C'mon Everybody - this was a 1988 re-release to tie-in with advert for Levi's 501 jeans. In a canny series of adverts base around nostalgia for a mythologised 50's and 60's, some good-looking lads and lasses, and soundtracked by a variety of cool numbers, these Levi's ads became quite talked about, and provided some career revival's and appreciation of dudes like Marvin Gaye, Ben E.King, Percy Sledge & Sam Cooke. So this advert was just another entry into this series - notable, in hind sight, in that it's Rock 'n' Roll not Soul, and that the narrative of the advert supposedly came from the reminiscences of Sharon Seeley (Eddie's girlfriend).

Eddie Cochran is part of my own personal holy trinity of Rock 'n' Roll along with Buddy Holly and Gene Vincent (Elvis who?) - all of whom are connected by their deaths. Buddy Holly went on his final tour because Eddie asked him to cover for him when he was unable to do. Out of guilt Eddie did an English tour that Buddy was supposed to have done, if he hadn't died. He of course died in taxi accident on that tour. Gene Vincent was also in that taxi, and that accident exacerbated an existing injury, and he felt guilt because of his friend's death - these two things led to his increased drinking, which precipitated the illness the cut his life short. I haven't fact checked any of that, so there might be some element of myth in there, but it's a good myth.

I'm guessing that you all know who Eddie Cochran was so I don't need to do a little bit of bio for background. I don't need to, but I want to, so here goes. He started off as part of a country duo called the Cochran Brothers (they weren't actually brothers), as part of this act they started to develop a more rockabilly sound, and then when Eddie went solo, he beefed up this to the more recognisable Rock 'n' Roll. A good looking young fella whose gorgeous honey coloured Gretsch guitar, was matched by his honeyed vocal tones.

My perception is that C'mon Everybody is part of popular music DNA like the other early rock 'n' roll classics like Johnny B. Goode, Great Balls of Fire or Peggy-Sue. However there may well be some young 'uns out there chancing upon this meandering nonsense who really have no idea what I'm going on about, so for there benefit of those guys C'mon Everybody is an up-tempo rocker, that's led by a strong rhythm section. The percussion is heavy and leads the beat, and is backed up by thumping double bass, which perfectly emphasises the "bare feet a-slapping on the floor" lyric. Over this Eddie strums his guitar and encourages the kids to go out and have a good time regardless of any consequences. As a song it encapsulates the energy rush of being an adolescent in late 50's USA, probably the first teenage generation with disposable income, and greater amounts of societal freedom, in an era of post-war emancipation. As such it's as much an historical document as it is a great song...and it is a great song.

On the flip side is Don't Ever Let Me Go - a charming, more melodic romantic ditty. It's pleasant, ephemeral seeming thing, with Eddie's golden tones pleading with his sweetheart to be with her forever, but there's a couple of interesting things going on in this tune. Most notably for me is the percussion, it's lower down in the mix, but the drums are adding a gentle swaying Calypso rhythm to the song. Added to this there are some background woos and whoops that are straight out of the Doo-Wop tradition. All these things are the little touches that lift what would be a pretty, if forgettable ballad, into something a mite more substantial.

So as a whole a great record, well worth the just over 4 minutes it takes to listen to both sides. What is more, regardless of the b-side, it is an important record in the history of popular music.

Next time some country schmaltz...

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…

7 inch single collection: The Hollies - Stop, Stop, Stop

One of the finest bands of the 60's...

The Hollies

A: Stop, Stop, Stop

B: It's You
(Parlophone 1966)

Here we are then The Hollies - often overlooked amongst the big hitters of the 1960's, and yet solidly performing and producing great records throughout the decade, into the next and beyond. A good variety of sounds and a willingness to experiment from the early beat sounds to magnificent ballads like He Ain't Heavy, the cutesy sounds of Jennifer Eccles and the steel drums of Carrie-Anne - all of these kind of things give a twist to what are otherwise solid pop songs, and raise them beyond the mundane. Possibly they are the best band of the 60's (and 70's) that have fallen out of popular public consciousness. I recall listening to the radio (many, many moons ago), and the DJ commenting that The Hollies were considered "The group's group", in that all the other well-known groups liked and respected The Hollies. Granted the DJ who said that was Jimmy Savile, but I think the point still stands, and I'm sure that I've heard other, less contentious, personalities independently say the same thing.

The Hollies had been established several years by the time Stop Stop Stop was released, and had already become a popular hit machine including a number one record with I'm Alive. So it's unsurprising that this record also ended up in the upper reaches of the hit parade. I mentioned earlier about giving pop songs a twist, and this is no different - instead of this tune being led by the now common-place sounds of the electric guitar, it is, instead underpinned by a banjo. This lends the whole song an slightly other-worldly air, as if the whole thing is taking place in a Gypsy carnival. The continually speeding up of the music building to crescendo in the chorus is like a wild waltzer ride at the funfair*. It's only only the chorus that it comes up for air, takes a chance to breath, and then grows again in the next verse. It is, of course, completely brilliant.

It's You on the flip-side does that very mid-60's thing of opening with a harmonica riff. It is a lesser tune than Stop Stop Stop - but that's why it's on the b-side. It's a fairly standard light mid-tempo beat tune - a dime a dozen in this era - however The Hollies manage to lift it from potential mediocrity simply through some fine vocal work - not only from the lead singer, but the harmonies are really special, and give this otherwise slight song a boost.

I've yet to hear a song from The Hollies that wasn't, as a minimum, very good, and I don't think that I ever will - so all in all an excellent little record.

*Ironically their very next single was "On A Carousel"

Next Time rock music from the stone age...

7 inch single collection: The Maisonettes - Heartache Avenue

One hit wonders ahoy!

The Maisonettes

A: Heartache Avenue

B: The Last One To Know
(Ready Steady Go! 1982)

You know I was in a bit of a quandary as to which YouTube link to add on this one. The official video - which is just the band performing, or the Top of the Pops, which is the band performing with added balloons, fashion victims and David 'Kid' Jenson. If you've followed the link you'll know I've made the right decision.

There is a studied "cool" about this band from stark clean lines of the black and white clothing, to the supercilious sneers of the two female singers on the sleeve of the record. Talking of those two women, the prominence of them in that picture may lead you to think that this band is fronted by two aloof young women, with a backing band made up of white guys with afros. This is the wrong impression - in fact the bearded fellow in the white jacket handles the lead vocals, with the women doing little more than oohing and ahhing in the background. In terms of visual marketing it was probably the right thing to do; in terms of sexual politics it's definitely a step backwards.

The deliberate evocation of a sense of "cool" is down there in the music too. Heartache Avenue delivers a stylised blue-eyed soul - laid-back, with a touch of melancholy. A smooth bass groove provides a swaying rhythm, with a sparkling keyboard bringing a glossy sheen to the whole. I remember the first time that I heard this song; I was watching the TV, and there they were - it might have been the linked clip, or else some Saturday morning kids show (Swap Shop or Saturday Superstore - whichever one was on in '82) - it stood out and had a hypnotic sound, and the visual image was striking and memorable. It stood out as being a little bit different, a bit more adult, and at the time I was enticed. In hindsight, it still has some charm to it, but there's little that makes it exciting.

If Heartache Avenue is laid-back then The Last One to Know, on the flip-side is positively horizontal. It start slow and shimmery, like a mirage on tarmac on hot Sunday afternoon. It's a smooth jazz/pop number with echoes of Sade (the singer, not he Maquis). The sound turns from a hot afternoon, to a rainy night - if you can picture that. If I were to make a video it would be in black and white and feature lampposts in the drizzle - it's that kind of song. Generally it floats around listlessly for three minutes then drifts of aimlessly.

A record of two halves then - something stylish and something bland. The a-side is worth hearing once, but not something that's likely to incite a rabid fandom.

Next time we briefly escape the 80's and listen to one of the best and most under-rated of the 60's groups.

7 inch single collection: Slide - Why is it a Crime

Turn of the 80's British rock...

Slide

A: Why is it a Crime

B: Never Ever
(Mercury 1989)

Before we get down to the frivolous business of me telling you what I think about this record, I'd like to make a serious point about grammar. You may well think it looks aesthetically pleasing to have your band logo being all capital letters apart from the middle one (and, to be fair, it does), but it's wrong. Just wrong. Slide or SLIDE or slide, but never ever SLiDE.
And while we're at it it "Why is it a Crime" - ever hear of question marks? (see - there's one, just there). This hasn't started well for me...
Just look at them there on the record sleeve, the jackets, the hair,the moody looks. Obviously they think they look cool, and obviously they don't. I know, because I looked like that in 1989 (maybe with an impish grin rather than the enigmatic scowl) - and I was never cool; have you seen my record collection? I'm still not, but I've learnt to embrace it.

Why is it Crime? Why is what a crime? Apparently "...to believe in me" - well it isn't, (unless you're running some kind of scam - then you're the criminal -not the person doing the believing), but this literal reading of the lyrics,of course is daft, and is diverting me from describing the record. You know Big Country, or Runrig or even a rockier Del Amitri ? This sound s a bit like them - there is something of the Celtic rock about the, and if these fellows turn out to be Scottish it wouldn't surprise me in the least. The intro lulls me into thinking that this record is not going to be as rocky as I think it should be, but then the drums kick in and there we go - you can almost tell what is sounds like from that sleeve. The drums carry the verse, with the singer's pleasant rock voice taking the melody, with the guitars adding an accent in the chorus. I can pick out some little organ details for colour on the background, then the instrumental break goes all 80's rock, in a polite, and non-raucous way. Then it ends. It's a little mundane, but perfectly serviceable.

The b-side is not a cover of All Saints Never Ever - which is a shame - that would have been a little more interesting - if unbelievable, as this pre-dates that song by a few years. It's got a strong, upbeat strummed acoustic intro, and this time the singer has added a bit of rasp to the voice - and that whole Celtic Rock vibe becomes even more apt. I quite like the bass line on this track, and as with the other side, when the electric guitars do come in, it feels like they're just adding a little more colour rather than rhythm or melody.

Overall this is a case of it'll do - not too bad, but nothing that would ever, or indeed did ever set the charts on fire.


Next time something of a one-hit-wonder with a jazz/soul vibe...

7 inch single collection: A Girl Called Johnny - Hello It Isn't Me

Something from the 80's you've probably never heard of...

A Girl Called Johnny

A: Hello, It Isn't Me

B: Shallow
(10 1986)

Sorry, no YouTube or equivalent link for this, so you're just going to have to take my word for this one.

Regular readers of this blog (if such a thing existed) will know that this is all about feelings and memory - and I shun research for facts and figures to fill this bit up with some kind of vaguely readable text. Well dear reader, I failed miserably this time - largely because I really like this record and wanted to know more about this band, and if they released anything else.

Let me share with you what I found. There's a song by The Waterboys called "A Girl Called Johnny" (but I knew that already), and there are at least two other bands with the same name. All I could find out about this band was some information about this specific record on Discogs.com. The only new information on this are the names of the band members. All of which confirms my prejudices on bothering to do any research for this folly of mine.

I can see why I bought the record - look at that sleeve, an attractive, if slightly mood, young woman hugging a beautiful guitar. I'm sure many people would love to be the place of that guitar, and I'm sure just as many would like to be in her place - it is a very lovely guitar.

Coming back to the point - what does Hello, It Isn't Me sound like. It's got a vague 80's indiepop feel - without much of the attendant spikiness and misirablism. It's got a lightweight bounce that reminds me of the likes of Aztec Camera and Orange Juice. The singer, who according to Discogs, isn't called Johnny, but Fiona, has a lovely warm voice. the chorus builds assertively without being aggressive, which builds further still to an delicate but explosive instrumental break. The guitar sound, hopefully that lovely looking Gibson on show, has rich fuzzy undertone. The tom-toms in the background of the latter verses add an extra little something.

We turn over the platter and find a song called Shallow. This has strong start with a jangly descending intro which leads us into a strong beat. The vocal on this side is slightly harder and more insistent. It's the same band with the same kind of sound - but this side is different enough from the a-side to make it interesting and stand-out on it's own merit. In fact I think this could have easily been an a-side too. The chorus is the kind that makes you nod your head to it whilst shouting along.

This is not the greatest record in the world , but I like it very, very much indeed - if the band had made an album I would have gone hunting for it.  I wouldn't say you should go and hunt it down - but if you do get the chance to hear it, do so. I've still got both songs in head, and over the years both have popped up randomly, and unbidden, but always welcome.

Next time - some British guys play have a go at rock...

7 inch single collection: J.Geils Band - Centerfold

Rocky, catchy and a bit dodgy...

J.Geils Band

A: Centerfold

B: Flamethrower
(EMI America 1981)

Oh, come on- you know this one, surely! It was very popular in 1981 and even got to number one here in the UK - can't say for the rest of the world - but I suspect it did pretty well.

What can I tell you about the band - not much. The singer's surname was Wolf - which feels pretty appropriate, and J. Geils himself (the guitarist) passed away quite recently (2017, I think)

You can tell that I'm trying to put off reviewing the record, because I'm not really sure what to say. Yes, Centerfold is a load of big and bouncy fun! It's got a good hook, and great sing-a-long, punch-your-fists-in-the-air chorus. The lyrics are simultaneously pervy and self-righteous and definitely full dodgy double standards. I'm paraphrasing the chorus and the latter half of the song but it goes something like this:

"I was shocked to see a girl I used to fancy at school in a pornographic magazine that I was reading*/looking at/using. I hope next time I meet her in real life she's got all her clothes on. Then I can take her to a motel, and take off all her clothes, and have sex with her, 'cos she's obviously gagging for it."

Then there's that god-awful squeaky synth sound that ruins so many rock records of this era. The whole thing is cheesier than the deli counter at Tesco.

I'm not sure what to expect when I flip the disc to Flamethrower. I've no memory of listening to this, although I know I must have done. I was expecting more of the same - and wasn't too surprised with what I found. It starts off with a clattering of drums, then those 80's squeaky keyboards come in. It's got a slightly funkier feel that the other side, and a long, daft instrumental break broken up with "Huh's" and yelps. It breaks down at the end into a sax and keyboard mush, which then tails off.

Obviously it's a terrible, but enjoyable record. I feel a little sullied after listening - but it's going to be an earworm for ages.

*For the articles obviously...

Next time some fairly obscure mid-80's British guitar pop...

7 inch single collection: The Distractions - It Doesn't Bother Me

Something a bit post-punk new wavey...

The Distractions

A: It Doesn't Bother Me

B: One Way Love
(Island 1970)

Who these guys are I don't know, and whether this single bothered the charts or not I don't particularly care. What's important (to me!) about this record is that it's on white vinyl. That is almost certainly the thing that attracted me to this record in the bargain bin. I'm a complete sucker for something a bit different to get me to part with cold hard cash for a record.

When leafing through my record collection the impression that I get whenever my eyes alight upon this particular specimen is a feeling of - it's good and I like it - but inevitably it will get passed over for a listen for something else.

It Doesn't Bother Me is a bright upbeat  slice of post-punk power-pop. It's upbeat with a crisp and clean guitar sound , with an unusual and welcome background organ punctuation. I bounced along to this song, and sang along with the chorus. There was a good false ending, on which I particularly enjoyed the drum sound.

Flipping this lovely milky white disc over we find One Way Love (not the 60's big, bold, brassy pop song by Cliff Bennett and The Rebel Rousers, for those of you who were wondering - I was).  It's equally up-tempo, with the kind of four-square rhythm that almost forces you to clap along with. It terms of overall sound it's not that different to the a-side, but that's no bad thing. Then it stops before it has the chance to go on to long and bore you..

This was a really enjoyable record, that three minute after I'd finished listening to it I couldn't remember the tunes or the words - they'd just gone. It was, appropriately, a distraction, but a welcome one. I expect next time I'm flicking through my record collection I'll see it and nod and smile in recollection of a good record, but still won't play it.

Next time a bit of dodgy 80's American rock...