Down With Tractors

The Criminal Minds "Urban Warfare" (from the "Guilty As Charged" mini-LP) (TCM Records, 1990)

2009-03-04T11:33:00.003Z

OK, this is probably the rarest record I own. I'm going to base that on the fact that I've been offered up to £500 to sell it. I've refused. ( I must be mad)

This is the first, self-produced and self-released record from legendary UK Hip-Hop crew The Criminal Minds. From 1992 onwards, they found a considerable measure of success releasing breakbeat hardcore (tunes such as "The Criminal" and "Baptised By Dub" are as definitive of the Rave era as it's possible to get.) However, when they first started, they were very much a straight hip-hop outfit. It's not to difficult to see the leap they made from hip-hop to hardcore: the BPM's sped up, the breaks were pushed to the fore, the raps pushed back a little, the scratches and samples took precedence over the production. Yet, they never lost touch with their hip-hop roots either: later tracks such as "Toxic Culture" (from the "Joyrider" EP) show they were as much influenced by The Bomb Squad as they were by any of their other Hardcore contemporaries.

But the one record by The Criminal minds that everyone seems to covet is this EP. TCM were, at the time a nascent hip-hop crew based in Buckingham, just outside Milton Keynes. At their core were two DJ's, Spatts and Halo. This mini-LP was recorded on a 4-track in Spatt's bedroom, and was financed by Spatts selling his Technics decks and pulling in favours from friends. There must have been loads of people involved in supporting the band up to this point, most of them are thanked in a special track on the second side of the LP "shout outs", and there's dozens of them! Despite the fact it was recorded on comparatively primitive equipment, the tracks are incredibly powerful, and intricately constructed. The scratching is razor-sharp, the beats crisp, the rapping febrile and full of energy. "Guilty As Charged" (AFAIK) remains a "Holy Grail" for collectors of early UK hip-hop, as it functions as a perfect snapshot of the development of hip-hop in this country at the time. This is what it was like. 500 copies were pressed, with most being sold privately to friends. Few made it into shops. I love this tune to bits (that bit where the Star Wars sample comes in - just PERFECT!) and won't be parted from it. Please don't ask me to post up the rest of this EP, you're just getting this one tune. Hope that's OK. Enjoy.

The Criminal Minds - "Urban Warfare" (mp3)

The Cradle "It's Too High" (Rough Trade Records, 1987)

2008-07-11T22:29:00.002+01:00

The 80's were a great time for agit-pop. Some of my strongest memories of the decade were the impact of the Miners strike, and the effect it had on the musical landscape. From features in the press, to benefit gigs, to student demos, to Rough Trade releasing "Strike" by The Enemy Within: it was a time full of militancy and the possibility that political change could be instigated by the sounds we listened to, and the ideals we held. Just around the corner was the 90's and the decade that was all abut greed being good, but in the mid 80's, things seemed just that little bit more empowered; even if, ultimately, it all came to nothing. Hey, at least we tried.
As far as agit-pop goes, one record really sums up the time: "Whistling In the Dark" by Easterhouse. A chiming slice of classic 80's pop, it was full of rage and exhortation: a diatribe about a country riven apart by industrial strife. "Whistling..." is available on "Contenders", a Cherry Red compilation which I can heartily recommend. However, less is known about the band that followed Easterhouse: The Cradle. The Perry brothers, Ivor And Andy, who made up Easterhouse, had a major falling out, and Andy disappeared. Ivor went on to form The Cradle, who are perhaps most notable for the fact that they included future member of The Smiths Craig Gannon in their midst (this rounded off a nice Smiths connection, as Easterhouse's first gig in London was supporting The Smiths at ULU).
This song makes me seriously nostalgic for the 80's. Not because it's a definitive 80's classic, but because I can hear the musical landscape shifting as this piece of vinyl spins on the turntable. The days of the independent charts producing great crossover hits was fading: just over the horizon was the birth of Dance culture and a thousand new genres, feeding off each other. This record feels like the proud last stand of an old guard. But, despite all of that, it's wonderful. Like so many of the tunes I post here, the reason I love it so much is that it acts as a landmark, a beacon, a snapshot of a time which has passed. Enjoy.

The Cradle "It's Too High" (mp3)

DJ Nut Nut "The Rumble" (Mad Ragga John Remix) (Production House Records 12", 1994)

2008-07-02T07:48:00.002+01:00

Though my real passion was for Old School Hardcore (check the archives!) the rise of Drum'n'Bass still managed to produce some truly incredible records. Just like Hardcore, the key here was innovation: every month brought new sounds, new stlyes, new waves of samples and textures; as a genre, D'n'B began an exponential growth that wasn't to slow down for many years. The tunes I bought in 1994, for me, showed the most progression. Though there was raw power and energy in the "darkside" anthems of 1993, 1994 saw the rise of the portamento b-line, on tracks like Dead Dread's "Dread Bass" , the power and finesse of Ray Keith's "Terrorist" and the sonic invention of Deep Blue's "The Helicopter Tune". There are elements of "Helicopter..." in this tune, it's got that same burbling percussion, but the real story here is the massively chopped up Amen breaks. The snares skitter, stutter and roll, twisting into impossible shapes. The rhythms draw you in, forcing you to find the flow within their complex programming, carrying you along with them. This is a tune with propulsion deep within its DNA.
And what of DJ Nut Nut? Well, not much, I'm afraid. I know she was a female Drum'n'Bass DJ, who recorded a few sides for Production House, and a few tunes for Hard Leaders And Tru Playaz, but I've not been able to find her currently online. Mad Ragga Jon (or John, as he's credited here) is a similar story, a flurry of tunes in the days of Hardcore, with some due to come out on pre-eminent Hardcore label Suburban Base, before a personality clash led to him being released by the label. For someone who was obviously talented enough to push the envelope with the twisted beats of this remix, it's hard to understand that this would be one of his last productions. After 1994, he too drops off the radar.
If you need a copy of this, it'll set you back about 25 quid. But for now, turn it up, loud, and lose yourself in those breaks.

DJ Nut Nut "The Rumble" (Mad Ragga John Remix) (mp3)

Herman Brood "I Love You Like I Love Myself" (Ariola Records, 1979)

2008-06-22T18:17:00.009+01:00

"I've had enough; maybe I'll be seeing you around. Make it a great party"

(Herman Brood, July 11, 2001)

It's so easy to find music now, isn't it? Hold your mobile phone up in a club, dial Shazam, get a text with the name of the song that's playing. Check out google, or discogs, and find a band's history, or any of their releases. Surf around the itunes store, filling in the gaps in your collection. Spend a while on ebay or gemm, or on message boards, tracking down an elusive CD, or a double for that old 7" that's starting to sound a little scratchy. But it wasn't always this way- when I started collecting, it was much, much more tricky. Back then, it seemed as if I had a long list of tunes stored up in my head; and I'd have to spend a huge amount of time trying to tick them all off, every time I visited a new record shop. There really was no effective way of sourcing things that weren't naturally stocked in your local shop: you could try and make a special order, but the process was very hit and miss. Without computers to check availability, or stock levels, an order might sit in a shop for weeks (or months) on end. The catalogue for actually placing orders was a giant red book, that most record shops had, but seldom used - another problem being that looking through a book of such size for a record whose title you weren't perhaps 100% sure of, wasn't something that most shop assistants would really care to attempt.

So, as I said, it was the "internal list" that I relied upon. Secondhand stores, out of town shops, record fairs, and a lot of "digging in the crates". This song is one which was on the list for quite some time. First heard in 1979, I tracked a copy of the album down in 1985 (without a sleeve!) in an Our Price in Watford which was having a closing down sale. Then, about 15 years later, finally found another copy in the Record & Tape Exchange. I've never seen a CD, though I think one was released in Holland in the late 80's: I'm presuming it's now out of print. But why was I searching so hard for this one song? It's all about how I found it, I suppose....
I first heard it on The Old Grey Whistle Test, in 1979. For the previous Christmas, I'd been given a brand-new Radio-cassette player, which I'd been using to religiously tape John Peel, and I also used it to tape stuff off the telly. So, on that Sunday night, I sat in front of the TV, gingerly holding up the recorder in front of the tiny speaker of my parents Sony Trinitron, and recorded it. Here's the exact clip I saw ( well, the second half is - the song comes in after about 4 mins)

And I just played that cassette to death. So, the fragility of the way I found the song meant I was desperate to actually own a proper copy, lest anything happen to the tape. I always felt that If the tape snapped, or got mistakenly recorded over, that I'd lose the song forever. So began the search. I'm still looking for the CD, though the album will do for now. I've never actually played any of the other songs on the album; "I Love You...." is track one, side one - so once that's finished, that's the album finished for me too. Childish, I know, but that's the way it goes.

Some more info on the song? Well, it's taken from a film with a flimsy plot about a bank robber, tied into the Dutch punk scene. It features (amongst others) Nina Hagen , Lene Lovich , and of course, Herman Brood. Brood is a fascinating character, and rightly revered as a true Rock'n'Roll legend in Holland, though his reputation didn't really cross over into many other territories - he managed a one-off hit in the US ("Saturday Night") and that was about it. However, in Holland, his influence is still felt to this day, as a performer, as well as an artist and sculptor. A long-time drug-user (and one who made no secret of the fact), he tried for many years to rid himself of his demons, but in 2001 was eventually devastated to find out that he was suffering from a terminal illness, and that he had mere months to live. On the 11th of July 2001, Herman Brood leapt to his death from the seventh floor of the Amsterdam Hilton, before that illness could claim him. There's more on Herman Brood here and his available recordings can be bought here (confusingly, there actually is a "Cha Cha" CD in print, but it's not the OST to the film). The song itself? Well, it's all about Brood, and the way he throws himself into its performance. He sings as if his life depends on it. The song can be taken, simply, as a paean to the love he's lost, or more obliquely, as a plea for help to break the spell of the substances he's using as a crutch to escape the pain of that lost love. Whatever the meanings, it's just a wonderful song, and always brings that same frisson of excitement I felt as a 12 year-old kid, holding a cassette player in front of a telly, in a small house, in a tiny village in the west of England, one Sunday Night. RIP Herman.

Herman Brood "I Love You Like I Love Myself" (OST) (mp3)

Pablo "Madeleina" (Long Version) (Island Records 12", 1981)

2008-06-18T09:40:00.002+01:00

I've always hated compartmentalisation in music. The idea that certain types of music should be removed from others. I grew up visiting record shops where everything was crammed into the same tiny space. If you wanted a punk album, it was in a rack right next to a whole bunch of metal stuff - if you wanted Reggae, that was a few paces to your left, next to the old R&B, which was next to the normal pop stuff, and so on. The shops I frequented then were staffed by people who would play just about anything they fancied, and that mix of sounds often opened my ears to things I wouldn't otherwise have considered buying. In 1981, this unconscious blending of sounds and styles was reflected in the other ways we were exposed to music: the music press were just as likely to put The Bhundu Boys on the front cover as Billy Bragg, Peel could play Scientist next to Orange Juice and we wouldn't bat an eyelid.

Some time in the late eighties, all this started to change. Record shops became all about the volume, not the variety. A visit to a new "Megastore" would reveal huge long racks of CD's, but close inspection showed it was just 10 copies of each album. The jumble of sleeves, cardboard cut-out artwork and stickers which adorned the walls of my old shop were replaced with cool neon signs, looking great but saying little. Everywhere was clean, chromed, carpeted, and deadly dull. Worst of all was the insidious rise of the compartmentalizing of music. Certain genres were taken away, removed from the main body of the shop. Jazz, Classical, World. If you went into a huge Virgin Megastore, you could be just looking at a wall of Rock CD's, when a few paces and a push through a smoked glass door would suddenly take you into the "Jazz" room. The music suddenly stopped, to be replaced by some David Sanborn (at reduced volume), the air conditioning seemed to be set slightly higher (so it was actually quite cold) and there was a rather bored looking assistant twiddling his thumbs by the cash desk. For me, the whole fun of Record shopping was being forced to listen to Ornette Coleman by the same hyper-enthusiastic muso who'd just made me listen to The Residents. Where had that spirit of inclusiveness gone? To this day, I tend to seek out shops like Rough Trade, where that eclectic outlook and musical melee still exists: places like Rough Trade are a joy to shop in, as a result. Of all the genres which suffered from this Stalinist policy of removal and ring-fencing, "World" music suffered most. It went from being another part of the music we listened to back then, to something which you had to find a specialist outlet in order to indulge your passion. As a result, the casual record buyer became alienated and cynical about World music, and the days of King Sunny Ade on the front of my weekly music magazine seem a long, long way off. It's been slowly changing over the past couple of years, and could that possibly be due to the gradual disappearance of the huge Chain store record emporiums from our high streets? So many people will shop via itunes now, which offers a main page that presents all of it's wares in one place: a jumble of genres, charts, adverts and images. Rather like an old record shop, though smelling slightly less of B.O. and Woodbines.

So here's a record from an era where "World" hadn't even been invented. Where a record by someone from Zaire (though he was a french resident at the time) would sit in the racks just along from Echo and The Bunnymen, would be on the radio airwaves just after something by Suicide, and would be on my cassette compilations after something by Magazine or The Flys (probably). And it's also a record which first came to my attention via a cassette, the NME's "Jive Wire" which came out in 1982. It was originally part of an album called "En Action" , recorded by the expansively-named Pablo "Lubadika" Porthos in Paris in 1981. the four tracks on that album were released by Island records as part of their newly-founded "African" imprint (the second 12", "Bo Mbamda" is equally excellent, and I'll be happy to post that up as well, If anyone is interested). "Madeleina" was also featured on the long-out-of-print CD "Sound D'Afrique Vol 2: Soukous" (if you want a copy, it's about 35 quid) However, both the NME tape and the CD compilation both feature the edited version of the song, and for this delicate slice of bittersweet, chiming sunshine to really work, it just has to be the full 12" version. I can't think of any other records in my entire collection which are guaranteed to raise as much of a smile as this song does when I play it; it's just perfect. Enjoy.

Pablo "Lubadika" Porthos "Madeleina" (Long Version) (mp3)

Baby Ford "Oochy Koochy" (F.U. Baby Yeh) (Original "Un-EQ'ed" Mix) (Rhythm King Records 12", 1988)

2008-06-18T08:23:00.004+01:00

Lots of the tunes on this site have that feeling of Zeitgeist about them, a connection to a place, time, or perhaps both. More than any other, this particular tune is forever locked into it's time and place. The time:1988- the place:London. This was the so-called "second summer of love" and London was absolutely obsessed with acid house. I was working at Rough Trade, skating my heart out, and DJ'ing at a number of Acid parties in the suburbs in North London; it was only a matter of time before this particular song became pretty much the centre of my listening world.

"Oochy Koochy" is the first really big home-grown, proper, authentic UK acid house record.It bleeps, pulses, rises and falls exactly as you'd expect from an imported slice of acidic goodness from Trax records, yet it was recorded right here. It's that localism that gives this tune it's sense of open-eyed wonder: in a way, it's an homage to the acid sound of Chicago, yet it retains a flavour of London in it's DNA: there's a playful nature to melodies, a feeling of fun, of freedom. That's the influence of the liberating power of the music that was ruling London's clubs at the time; that new-found enthusiasm couldn't help but bleed through into the music, and it imbues every millisecond of this song.

There were a couple of versions of this song: this was the first and best. The way to tell? Well, that's wrapped up in an apocryphal tale of clubs, bass and broken speakers. When this version of "Oochy Koochy" was recorded, it was obviously made in a frantic rush of creativity, and was actually released without the Bass Line being properly EQ'ed. In the (one would imagine) tiny studio in which it was recorded, this wasn't much of a problem. However, in a huge club environment, it was a different story. Legend has it that label-mate Mark Moore (of S-Express fame) took one of the first copies of this version down to the Acid night at Heaven, put it on in the middle of the night, and the huge, lolloping B-line promptly caused the PA to have a serious wobbly; and blew the speakers. Rhythm King Records, fearing the wrath of club owners across the land, remixed the song, EQ'ed the bass a little (to ensure it wouldn't play havoc with those PA's) and added a little Icon of an ear with a "warning" stripe across it on the rear of the sleeve. So, if your 12" has an ear on the back (and a written warning about the dangers of playing it loud) it's the second pressing. If it doesn't, chances are it's one of these.

You could get "Oochy Koochy" on CD at the time (though it was the Re-EQ'ed version) and that CD is long since out of print. There are a couple on Amazon, but they'll set you back £25.

Baby Ford "Oochy Koochy" (F.U. Baby Yeh) (Original 12" Mix) (mp3)

More tunes on the way....

2008-05-25T22:20:00.003+01:00

But, I'm also going to have a little experiment. I've been immersing myself in lots of different forms of social media of late, chiefly Twitter and Friendfeed. So, I've decided to start up a "Down With Tractors" Room of Friendfeed, to act as an adjunct to this site. My hope is that the commenting (which has been great on this site already, don't get me wrong) can be more open, more focused, and more able to expand beyond the boundaries of this blog site. It may work, it may not, we'll have to wait and see. But, if you'd like to check it out (and you're on friendfeed, natch) then the DWT room is here. I'd be interested in any feedback you've got; let me know!

Right, let's start again, shall we?

2008-05-21T08:54:00.002+01:00

I have NO IDEA what happened to fileden, but something serious was up with it. As soon as my monthly bandwidth was reset, 25 gig of downloads just happened almost instantaneously. Very odd. Anyway, as my good friend Steve keeps telling me (thanks mate!) it's time to look elsewhere. So I'm going to give mediafire a try, and see what happens. This does have some ramifications on the previous content of the blog, as I'll have to get round to loading all the old links in, but give me some time, and I'm sure I'll get there eventually.
Anyway, before normal blog service is resumed, here's a couple of links (the ones I got most emails about) for you to catch up on, whilst I get my act together. Enjoy.

Cozy Powell "Na Na Na" (mp3)

And, here' the one I get the most feedback (sic) about, and the one people seem to love more than any other:
The Jesus And Mary Chain - Live At The I.C.A. (mp3)

More soon!

No bandwith...

2008-04-25T00:58:00.002+01:00

it's all rather odd, i've been on fileden for months, and have got nowhere near my download limit, and suddenly, last month, I reached my limit with 15 days to go. I can only think that someone has gone through the blog, and downloaded everything, and told their friends to do the same. Hey ho. i've got about 5 days before fileden resets, and then all links will be active, howzat?

Cozy Powell "Na Na Na" (RAK Records, 1974)

2008-04-08T18:29:00.004+01:00

The memories that flood out while listening to this are so strong; I could absolutely swear to being 13 years old all over again. This is one of my most cherished singles, and I still can't quite understand why its not revered by the entire world as a true slice of rock perfection. It's three and a half minutes of complete yob-rock genius. I can vividly recall hearing it for the first time, on a tiny reel-to-reel tape player my Dad gave me, in 1974. My Dad would tape the Radio 1 top 20, on Sunday evenings (with Tom Browne) and put them onto tiny little tapes for me. In an age when most kids I knew just had access to their parents music centres, or maybe had an old Dansette record player in their room if they were lucky, I was able to take this tape recorder with me wherever I went. It was a sort of proto-walkman, and did make me the envy of my mates for a while! Also, it being a reel-to-reel, the sound of it was quite incredible: rich and powerful, but with loads of great top end too. Which made it perfect for listening to this; to the point that even now, it's never managed to quite recapture the magic of hearing it whilst watching the reels slowly spinning round, as I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor. "Na Na Na" sent such a frisson of genuine excitement through me, the first time I heard it: every single element of it is absolutely perfect. The booming tom-toms at the start, swiftly followed by one of those classic "tennis racket" windmilling guitar chords...then there's the two-fingered salute of the chorus, the crowd noise in the breakdown.......

A lot of its sheer power comes from the inventiveness of the production, which was provided by Mickie Most at the top of his game. If you listen to it on headphones, you'll see what I mean: every single element of the song occupies a space around your head, without overlap, confusion or chaos. It's a little like tasting a glass of wine, closing your eyes and saying "well, there's vanilla, and oak notes, some peach, some grassy flavours...." This record is just like that- the separate elements are able to work together, yet retain their unique identities. The net result is that EVERYTHING sounds perfect, and the wave after wave of ideas just combine to create something unforgettable.

I'm fairly sure also, that it wasn't just me who was enthused by this record in the mid-70's. Have another listen to the start. Now tell me that there weren't some nascent punk rockers out there who were leaping around their bedrooms just like me. Specifically, the intro drums- remind you of anything? I'm willing to bet Rat Scabies had them somewhere in his mind when he pelted out "New Rose" for the first time. Then, there's the huge guitar chords before the first verse. We all know Glen Matlock ripped off Abba's "SOS" for "Pretty Vacant", but did Steve Jones ever hear "Na Na Na" and think "Hmm, maybe I could use that for Holidays In The Sun"? Yobbish oik-rock like this would have been as much an influence as the more obvious Stooges/Mott/T Rex reference points. With all of that in mind, I'm constantly shocked that this song doesn't crop up more often; even losing it's place on the available compilations to the (admittedly more commercially successful) "Dance With The Devil".

Cozy Powell, of course, went on to have a hugely influential and productive career, before his tragic death in a car smash on the M4. A full overview of his life is here , and CD's are available here, though it would seem that no-one has really taken charge of his back catalogue. There would appear to be no really definitive retrospective to speak of, and some of the newer compilations have a whiff of "cash-in" about them, which is a great shame.

And above all, I love this song for the middle eight. Have there ever been lyrics more designed to instill revolution in the heart of a thirteen-year old kid? I think not.

"I know you get your kicks playing Hendrix licks, you're the wizard of Wembley Central, You're the JS Bach of Belsize Park- but me, I'm just plain mental. When I play my boogie, when I play my blues, it's like a whole tank regiment on the move.....you can play the notes, you can tell the story- me, I'll just settle for the power and the glory"

Amen to that. It's a little crackly, this one, but I'm convinced it only adds to its charm, its power, and its magic. Enjoy.

Cozy Powell "Na Na Na" (mp3)

Urban Rhythm "Luv Will make It Right" (Strictly Rhythm Records, 1991)

2008-03-29T16:10:00.003Z

Let's place this record in some sort of context, shall we? It's 1991. My career as a musician is at its height. I'm a member of a highly successful indie rock band. And what am I listening to? Maybe some Carter USM? Kingmaker? Any of the other indie rockers filling the pages of the Melody maker or the NME? Nope. All I listened to was house music, and *points down* Breakbeat Hardcore. For several years, from roughly 1987 through to 1994, that was it for me. I was so immersed in the whole scene, so completely involved, that I ended up working in a Record shop in North London, specifically to feed my vinyl habit. The shop was called The Record & Disco Centre, or "the R&D" to its legions of regular customers, and was situated in the basement of a video rental shop in the suburban hinterland of Rayners Lane, at the northern end of the Piccadilly line. In between tours, gigs, and press appointments, I'd hop on the tube, get to the shop, get behind the counter, and feel completely, utterly at home. I've seldom been happier than when I was behind the pair of technics we had at the end of the counter, playing new tunes to an eager group of punters. The shop was right at the cutting edge as far as tunes went, we would have constant deliveries of new stock, and every new tune would be instantly assessed and devoured by a bunch of DJ's, desperate for the freshest tunes that their money could buy.

I vividly remember the feeling of breaking open a 25-count box of vinyl, fresh out of the Van that delivered it to the shop, seeing all those 12" sleeves, tightly swathed in shrink wrap, and snapping one open to play it for the punters. The world of record buyers are divided into two groups: those who use a fingernail to slice open the shrink wrap, and those who use the leg of their jeans. I'm in the latter group. It's quite simple, you find the "opening", give the 12" a shake so the vinyl inside nestles nearer to the edge, then rub the edge a few times, really fast, on your upper leg. Job done. Once the record inside has revealed itself, I always loved the smell of the vinyl as it emerged into the air of the shop for the first time. Pristine, dust-free, shiny, perfect. As quick as possible, I'd place it on the deck, slide the needle over....and wait. Years of listening to tunes focuses your diagnostic skill to a fine point: you tend to know in about 10 seconds whether it's a real tune or not. And so did all the DJ's crowding round the decks; at roughly the same point in the song, either a huge shout of "TUNE!" would go up, or a collective shrug of the shoulders would consign the tune to the bargain bin, from whence it would struggle to reappear. This particular record emerged from a huge pile of Strictly Rhythm releases (the label seemed to put out an almost constant stream of 12"s) and, at first glance, seemed like nothing special. Rhythm Section hadn't really recorded anything of real note before, there were no in-vogue remixes on offer (Wild Pitch, etc) and overall, it looked like any other generic slice of New Jersey Warehouse funk. How wrong I was. After a small, breathy vocal sample, the record started, and began to weave its spell on me. It's driven by a clattering almost garage-like set of beats, but it's all the melodies that make this one: a series of long, sustaining string samples, almost discordant, punctuated by niggling little vibraphone and keyboard riffs. Floating over the top is a sample of Ten City's Byron Stingily, repeating the title like a mantra: "Love Will Make It Right......" And he's right isn't he? Love WILL make it right, won't it? Every time I hear him sing, even if I don't believe it, you can bet I WANT to believe it. the relentless nature of the tune, coupled with the tension created by the shimmering sustain of the chords, means I always drift off into a sort of reverie while listening to it: it's house music at its very, very best. It's primal, urgent, compelling and just flat-out wonderful. Keen Jesus Jones fans will spot how much I loved this song, by noting that a sample from it appears in the JJ song "Want To Know" (the B-side of "The Devil You Know") that's a measure of how obsessed by this song I was- the entire JJ song was basically me trying to find a way of paying homage.

These days, it shouldn't be too difficult to find a second-copy of it, should you want one. SR 12"'s are a common sight in Dance shops, and many people tend to dismiss them as a result: "Well, if there's a huge pile of them, they can't be that good, can they?" Well, amongst that pile of SR 12"s in your local second-hand emporium there will probably be a copy of this, and it probably wont cost you more than a couple of quid. You'd be a fool to miss out. I've included both mixes of the A-side, the first is the full version, the second is sparser, more dreamy, and allows the melodies even more room to breathe. Both are, as you might gather, highly recommended.

Urban Rhythm "Luv Will Make It Right" (Hardhouse Mix) (mp3)

Urban Rhythm "Luv Will Make It Right" (As It Grooves Mix) (mp3)

Jem 77 "Never Felt This Way" -from the "Forbidden Planet EP (21 Records, 1992)

2008-03-18T08:49:00.003Z

I think I've got time for another piece of Old-School Hardcore GENIUS, don't you? Here's another one of those tunes which is now virtually impossible to find, More's the pity. This was a staple of DJ Sy's sets back in the early 1990's, and it's easy to see why: for a scratch DJ, the breaks are hectic, but wide open, leaving lots of room for furious scratching over the top of the track. The tinkling pianos and rushing sample lines make this one another tune that presages the rise of happy hardcore, without fully surrendering itself to the cheesier stereotypes of that side of things. Jem 77 released a number of tunes on 21 Records, before, as was so often the case back then, moving off into more "Progressive" directions, recording as The Good Strawberries. This, for me, is my favourite of all of their output; though if you can find the EP from which it comes, there are some other great tracks on it (including one which samples "Eruption" by Van Halen!) what's less well know about Jem 77 is that it was (partly) the work of Joel Bogen, who i'm pretty sure was the Guitarist in Toyah's band.

Jem 77 - "Never Felt This Way" (Remix) (mp3)

DJ's Kid Andy & Nickle Bee "How We Fell Apart" (Back To my Heart Mix) (Boogie Beat Records, 1993)

2008-03-10T11:09:00.003Z

My Guilty pleasure, is without a doubt, Old School Hardcore. From 1991-93, it was pretty much all I ever listened to. Some of the tunes from that era are now seriously sought after by Hardcore collectors, and go for silly money on the second-hand market. This tune is a case in point: you won't get much change from £50-£75 quid if you manage to find a mint copy.
"How We Fell Apart" is the sound of 1993, distilled into about 5 minutes. 1993 was a strange year for Hardcore, the scene was beginning to fragment, and the spectre of Drum'n'Bass was waiting in the wings. The two biggest musical movements of the time were "Darkside" tunes, dense doom-filled slabs of breakbeat paranoia which reflected the comedown from the glory days of great pills and smiley faces. Stronger, more evil drugs were filling the scene: Skunk, Crack, and "Snowballs" which gave the kids MDA (with all its intensity and darkness) as opposed to MDMA (with its happy faces and hugs).
On the other side of the musical divide were the "happy" tunes, filled with euphoric breakdowns, waves of pianos, and helium-pitch vocals. These songs were to be the precursors of Happy Hardcore, just as the Darkside tunes eventually morphed into Drum'n'Bass. DJ Seduction, Vibes, DJ Red Alert & Mike Slammer.....the list of tunes in 1993 seemed endless. For me, this one stands head and shoulders above the rest, though I'm not quite sure why. Let's face it, it's such a simple little tune: a rolling breakbeat, some little scratch samples, and that impossibly squeaky vocal. It's what we always used to call a "ladies tune" as it would give some sort of respite from the Testosterone rush of the darker tunes.
The helium vocals are what firmly places this in 1993- at that time, timestretching wasn't really possible on the samplers that were in common use (Akai's S900 and S950), but when the next generation of samplers was ushered in with the S1000, time-stretching became more commonplace, and the need to pitch vocals up to match the frenetic beats vanished. If the vocals squeak, you can bet it's either from late '92, or 1993. A year later, tunes like Dread Bass's "Dead Dread" laid out the template, as Ragga Jungle took over and samples began to turn themselves inside out. The sound of these helium vocals became locked in time. I guess that's another one of the reasons why I love it: it's another one of those Zeitgeist moments. It's completely of its time.

DJ's Kid Andy & Nickle Bee "How We Fell Apart" (Back To My Heart Mix) (mp3)

Junior Walker & The All Stars "Gotta Hold On To This Feeling"/"Clinging To The Thought That She's Coming Back" (Soul Records, 1970)

2008-03-10T08:39:00.004Z

Junior Walker is one of the most distinctive Motown musicians of all time: as soon as you heard that wailing Saxophone, you just knew it was him. Best known for tunes like "Shotgun" and "Roadrunner", his output was huge, varied, and uniformly excellent.
But, for me, there's one song which sticks out a mile. It's not the A- side of this single "Gotta Hold On.." but it's the flip side, "Clinging To The Thought That She's Coming Back". And, luckily, it fits the rules of this blog as it's unavailable on CD at the moment (though the A-side crops up on all the regular greatest hits compilations)
"Clinging...." is all about someone holding a candle for the love they've lost, it's one of the most sweetly poignant lyrics I've heard; simple and direct in its pleas for forgiveness and resolute in its hope for a better future. All of it topped by Walker's coruscating Sax, and a typically lush production by Soul legend Johnny Bristol, who was the person who first discovered the band, back in the early 60's.
It's one of those records I play CONSTANTLY, and put into my DJ sets wherever and whenever I can. It's a life-affirming piece of soulful genius, and it gets me every single time.

Junior Walker & the All-Stars "Clinging To the Thought That She's Coming Back" (mp3)

You've Got Foetus On Your Breath "Wash It All Off" (Self Immolation, 1981)

2008-03-03T09:48:00.001Z

First heard on the Peel show, back in early 1981, this slice of utterly ridiculous quasi-industrial funk became one of my favourite records of the entire year. I'd got the previous single "Spite Your Face", which was a dour slice of bedroom DIY noise, but this tune was a real revelation. It marked the start of Jim Thirlwell's obsession with Funk; which he would continue on the first album "Deaf" and on his meisterwerk, the 12" of "Custom Built For Capitalism". I loved all the stupid sped-up vocals, the endless grunts of "HEEEURRRGH!" which ran through the song...the cheeky reference to ABBA ....it's all wonderful. But the thing which really makes it, is the sense of fun which permeates the entire song. If anyone doubts me on this: compare this original version with the later version of "Wash", which is far darker. For me, the early period Foetus stuff is just amazing: hearing so many ideas jostling for position, sometimes tumbling out on top of each other, in their eagerness to be heard. It's this sense of ludicrous exuberance that made me love this record so much almost thirty years ago (eeep!) and that sense of exuberance is still there, locked into its grooves. Enjoy.

You've Got Foetus On Your Breath "Wash It All Off" (mp3)

Swell Maps "Steven Does" (Rough Trade, 1979)

2008-02-01T22:49:00.000Z

OK then, two posts in one day! And this one has an absoulutely crucial USP: it contains the GREATEST GUITAR SOLO OF ALL TIME. This is something I am not prepared to argue about: if you've got a different opinion; I don't want to hear it. For me, the solo in this song encapsulates the majesty, the glory, the romance and the power of Rock'n'Roll, and it does it whilst being quite obviously drunk and out of tune.
This song is one of four that were on a free EP given away with the initial pressings of the Swell Maps debut LP "A Trip To Marineville". For reasons I don't quite understand, some of the other tracks on the EP have appeared on retrospective Maps compilations, but this truly wondrous vignette remains unreleased.
For all of you out there who may not have heard of The Swell Maps, do check out that Wikipedia page, and follow some of the links. Theirs is a story too long for me to rehash here: suffice to say that without their innate knack of mixing noise with melody, post punk would never have happened ( or at least, it would, but it would have been even more po-faced). I knew Jowe Head via the TVP's (we've done this, haven't we?), but was lucky enough to count Nikki Sudden as a friend for a large part of the 90's. He was going out with a friend of mine, and would occasionally turn up, in the dead of night, on my doorstep, armed only with a bottle of vodka, 200 cigarettes, and a desperate need to listen to sleazy rock music until dawn. Believe me, those are the nights that hurt, that wipe years off your life expectancy, yet that make it all worthwhile. I was terribly saddened when he passed away. RIP Nikki.
It's him, incidentally, that provides the guitar genius on this song, and it's Jowe (Steven being Jowe's real name) who provides the vocals. The song itself may, or may not, be an insight into Jowe's upbringing (the sleeve certainly alludes to it), with the oblique nature of the lyrics (trans: what the hell is he going on about?) we may never be sure -and that's just the way I like it.
If you don't own any Swell Maps CD's, now's the time to right that wrong. Do it now.

Swell Maps "Steven Does" (mp3)

Martin "Highschool Massacre" (Highschool Records, 2000)

2008-02-01T22:05:00.000Z

Well, here it is then. The song about Columbine I was referring to in my previous post. I know very little about this single, i'm fairly sure I got it whilst working at Xfm, in 2000 (for the love of God, does nobody check their website? I can't believe my page is still there!!). It may well have been posted to me, I can't recall for sure. I've only seen one other copy of it from that day to this, and I bought it on the spot, so I'd have a double. Google searches for info on the record turn up absolutely nothing; and I can't really give you any more details than the name of the artist, a title, and a photo of the label.

But what really counts in this case is what it sounds like. It's a supremely moving piece of drama- no suprise, given it's subject matter- but what elevates this from a simple slice of cut'n'paste collage into something more cerebral, is the sense of connection to the emotional impact of the senselessness of Columbine: this is a record that begs us to think, to question, to try and feel some of the pain. It does it by layering a series of snippets from news reports and general media sources over what sounds suspiciously like a Delfonics backing track (if it is sampled from somewhere, can someone let me know what it is?) The slow, lush, soulful backing track is increasingly unhinged by the stream of voices, as they get ever more hysterical; culminating in, what is for me, the coup-de-grace, as a clearly shocked student wails:

"....and he shot the black kid...because he was black...."

Terror and confusion never sounded quite so stark, so spine-chillingly evil. It's still the moment in the song that brings me out in goosebumps every single time.

Martin "Highschool Massacre" (mp3)

Honey Bane "Girl On The Run" (from the "You Can Be You" EP, Crass Records, 1980)

2008-01-24T21:45:00.000Z

Lord only knows why, but I've been listening to some slightly disturbing tunes over the last week or so. It's that little frisson of pleasure that you get, from hearing something which simultaneously excites and somewhat appalls you at the same time. It's the sort of feeling you get when listening to "Hamburger Lady" by TG ......

See what I mean?
Anyway, there's that, there's another song called "Highschool Massacre", which is about Columbine (and is actually quite heartbreaking) and there's this little gem from Honey Bane. It's got that perfect mix of anger and sweetness, a sense of longing and love, underpinned by the breathless chase from evil, the unseen menace that stalks the subject of the song: as she descends further into desperation, the evil gets closer; you can almost feel it's breath on her back. Of course, all of this would probably be nothing without Crass providing the backing
track (it's credited to "Donna & The Kebabs", with delicious irony, for perhaps the most high-profile group of Anarcho-Vegetarians of the punk years). Crass were masters of the sinister, adept in churning out uneasy waltzes of confusion and paranoia: driven by Penny Rimbauds strict drumming, and overlaid with waves of scratchy, twitching, fuzzed-out punk anger.
Yet this single also displays something of a tender side to Crass: at its heart it's a pure pop song: from the "Boredom" riff, with its two-note semaphore, to the clever little guitar chords, floating over the time signature; this is a consummate piece of pop brilliance. But, it was never seen as such, and probably never will be. It still places a chill in my heart though: it's Honey's detachment, her matter-of-fact vocal sneer, it's the vicious treble wash of the guitars, it's that horrific flushing noise at the end of the track, as the song seems to vanish into some sort of vortex of unfeeling savagery, it's still quite the most wonderful mix of sweet and savage.
Honey Bane had an upbringing which added extra gravitas to this single, and seemed to be on the run from pretty much everything when it was released. She had previously voiced the Fatal Microbes single "Violence Grows", and a homage to it, "Porno Grows", appears on the other side of this single. Her talents would be temporarily, and unsuccessfully channeled into trying to be a bona fide pop star after this, as Jimmy Pursey produced a couple of her singles for Regal/Zonophone, which tickled the lower reaches of the charts. However, you always got the feeling Honey was slightly uncomfortable with the whole thing, and she vanished from the sight of the mainstream, to enjoy a lower, but more creatively enriching profile, from that day to this. She's still very much with us, and her myspace can be found here.
And, as a final footnote: how great was it to have "pay no more than..." on the single sleeve? It simultaneoulsy makes a statement of intent, and also freezes that single to a moment in time: remember when singles cost 65p? That's what I payed for this when it came out, and it was worth every single one of those sixty-five pennies. Enjoy.

Honey Bane "Girl On The Run" (mp3)

Mark Beer "Pretty" (Rough Trade, 1981)

2008-01-15T22:27:00.000Z

I was posting on Westway the other day, extolling the virtues of Record Fairs, and declaring my love for old Rough Trade 7"s. Well, here's another one of those Rough Trade singles, and it's one that has never had its moment in the spotlight.

Mark Beer is one of those artists that never quite made it: a handful of singles, what looks like a self-financed album, and that's about it.There is a connection via one of those singles to Thomas Dolby, and another one of his collaborators was Jean-Marc Lederman, who played in Jules et Jim, with Julianne Regan, from All About Eve. Along the way, he seems to have picked up a tiny number of curious fans and he's been rewarded for all his years in the wilderness by having one of his songs: "The Man Man Man", turn up on a compilation of DIY UK post-punk releases. So, there are tantalising links to other bands, to other careers, to other lives. But when you try and find out what happened to Mark himself, there's nothing. No myspace, no CD's on Amazon, no website, nothing. Very odd.

This single itself is a bright little piece of pop, though in its rush for acceptance, its message seems to become somewhat muddled. Mark sings about how being pretty is his salvation, the "antidote to my despair". Yet later in the song, he's musing that being pretty is merely "a type of superficial grace". He seems to have a love/hate relationship with the process of self-examination and evaluation, and this sense of confusion and fragility really comes across in the track: the song is always on the edge of becoming over-wrought and merely theatrical, a heartbeat away from losing its integrity to base vanity. It also has the delicious prospect of a "dub" on the b-side, though in truth it was just a chance to give the echo box a workout.

Despite it's lo-fi sound, and, at times, simplistic production, Rough Trade obviously had high hopes for the single. My copy came with a plugging sticker on the back, which means that it was sent off to compete with all the pop heavyweights of the day, when in truth, it probably never had a chance. And in that one moment of pure hope, is the reason why I really loved Rough Trade: they never let common sense get in the way of their dreams. They were adamant that their records deserved a chance, no mater how slight that chance was. The sheer optimism and pride of record labels in that first flush of the Indie boom has been somewhat forgotten, and this single serves as a timely reminder of just how important it is for a label to believe in their artistes, and to follow that belief through, all the way.

Mark Beer "Pretty" (mp3)

Boys Wonder "Goodbye Jimmy Dean" (Boys Wonder Records, 1988)

2008-01-13T22:37:00.000Z

So, here's that other Boys Wonder single I was on about in the post below, which, for me, is the highpoint of their career. Everything about this single is just perfect, from the opening salvo of guitar riffs, to the proggy little burbles of synths which move the melody from verse to chorus, from the soaring middle eight to the key change, right down to the tongue-in-cheek kiss-off of the ending; it's just a textbook example of how to write, structure and perform the ultimate pop song.

This single followed on from the relative disappointment of their years at Sire Records, where hopes had been high, budgets had obviously been bigger, and that lack of success could have easily resulted in a rather jaded outlook on life and the music business. Instead, Boys Wonder focused their attention on rather different targets: the eighties obsession with out-of-date idols. Every home seemed to have a poster of James Dean in his "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams" pose, the stars of a bygone era were supposed to be touchstones for the youth of a forward-thinking and technologically exciting age. the charts were full of Motown reissues and Stax covers, old soul sold to us via Levi's ads, and Rock'n'Roll condensed into short bursts of Jive Bunny mediocrity: something was very, very wrong. Boys Wonder lined all of these sacred cows up in a line, and shot them all down, one by one.

As it turned out, sadly, no-one was really listening. This single sold even less well than their previous releases. Something had to give, and Boys Wonder began, slowly but surely, to reassess their situation. The end of the eighties saw the rise in power of dance music in the UK, and there were few bands who weren't changed by it, or who would openly flirt with the medium. Boys Wonder continued for a while after this release, putting out a couple of white-label dance 12"s, and another single, the Balearic break-funk of "Eat Me, Drink Me", with its Steve Proctor remix. After that, as mentioned below, Corduroy beckoned. But this single will always remind me of what could have been, and will stay with me as a consummate example of the Majesty of a simple, cocky pop song. Enjoy.

Boys Wonder "Goodbye Jimmy Dean" (mp3)

Buba And the Shop Assistants "Something To Do" (Villa 21 Records, 1984)

2008-01-11T23:13:00.000Z

Due to a last minute holiday, just before Christmas, and the ensuing chaos and ennui of the holiday period, it seems I let my fileden account lapse, and a few unlucky souls missed out on downloading some of the songs on my site, specifically it seems, the Shop Assistants rough mix and live stuff (they should all be working now). By way of an apology, I thought I should offer you this: the legendary first Shoppies single.
"Something To Do" came out in 1984, a year before they really arrived with what most people thought was their debut EP "All Day Long". Well, this single was actually their debut, and it's interesting for a number of reasons. First off, it's actually recorded by most of the Shoppies (David, Sarah, Laura and Ann) but Aggi And Stephen from the Pastels are on there as well (it's Aggi who provides the vocals). The song remains, intriguingly, the sound of what the two groups would be like if they were melded together: there's the twee, coy charm of the Pastels, draped across two minutes of fuzzed-out Ramones pop-punk crash'n'burn. To these ears, it sounds perfect, but it obviously wasn't going to work: Aggi and Stephen went back to just being The Pastels, and The Shoppies added another drummer and turned up those guitars even louder.
It's also interesting for its sheer rarity. Copies go on eBay for anything up to about £125, which is quite unbelievable. It's truly one of the "Holy Grail" singles for C86-era collectors. This rip isn't the greatest quality, but the quality of the song still shines through, loud and clear. Once heard, never forgotten. Enjoy.

Buba And The Shop Assistants "Something To Do" (mp3)

Boys Wonder "Shine On me" (Expanded Second Movement) (Sire Records 12", 1987)

2008-01-10T23:02:00.000Z

Cast your mind back, gentle reader, to when you first heard about Oasis. Remember what we were promised? Well, we were promised the "Sex Beatles"(It's in there somewhere). That was the phrase that Creation's PR department had managed to get the press to use; the "Sex Beatles". Let's face it, which self-respecting journalist wouldn't have jumped on the phrase? It promised the best of two of our most iconic acts: the swagger, punky attitude and insouciance of The Sex Pistols, and the wonderful pop melodies of The Beatles- perfection!

But what did we get? Well, we certainly didn't get The Sex Beatles. In fact, after we'd got about halfway through "Definately Maybe", there were a great many people who'd realised we'd actually been sold The Eater Clark Five. Damn.

What fools we all were then, not to notice that the "Sex Beatles" had actually happened a few years before. They'd emerged, in a flash of brio and hype, in a swirl of flashy clothes and oik accents, with manifestos, tunes, Les Pauls blazing, and harmonies ringing in our ears.They had the swagger of the Pistols, the pure pop knowledge of the Beatles: they had it all, and weren't afraid to shout it from the rooftops: trouble was, not enough people were prepared to listen. In another time and another place, Liam and Noel would be running a pound shop in Burnage, and Boys Wonder would have played to several ecstatic sold out crowds in Knebworth's sumptuous grounds. But it wasn't to be. But why? Honestly, I haven't got a clue.

The heart of the band was the Addison twins, Ben and Scott. I had the pleasure of meeting them when I worked at the Rough Trade shop, and they came in to do a gig. You couldn't hope to meet two more committed and passionate pop fans. I remember we spent a good half hour rhapsodising about the healing power of the seven inch single, with Ben reserving particular space in his heart for all his Small Faces EP's, and all of us arguing about the best Label designs ever. They were sharply dressed, but had sharper pop minds, their enthusiasm and energy sparking out of them as they sat behind the shop's tiny counter. We met a number of times in the next couple of years, when my band was taking off, and they always had the time of day for me, were always incredibly polite and interested in how I was doing, never jealous that I had appeared to fluke some sort of success whilst Boys Wonder never really took off. I had a lot of time for them then, and have followed their careers with interest ever since.

This particular single, their second, is as perfect a snapshot of both their style and their substance as you will find. The guitar riff bursts in like The Clash on "Jail Guitar Doors", but ten times bigger. The snotty vocals talk of a pride in our country, without ever sinking into stereotyping, or worse, racial slurs. The song is a celebration of our diversity, a flag-waving, chest-beating fist in the sky about how great it is to live here, with all the other races and peoples who've made this such a unique place in the world. Many have tried to do it, but this is (along with "Waterloo Sunset", which is WAY more parochial) probably the most perfect summation of national pride I've ever heard. This particular version is the 12", for that EXTRA dose of swagger: the Clanger/Winstanley production is an absolute "Kitchen Sink" job: just when you think it probably couldn't get any louder; it gets louder.

To see them doing the song live, check this out, but try not to punch your screen when Ben Elton introduces them......

And, the crazy thing is, it's not even their finest moment. That belongs to a later single "Goodbye Jimmy Dean" (which I'll post soon). But for now, if you're not acquainted with Boys Wonder, this is a great place to start.

And what became of them? Well, Ben And Scott went on to be lynch-pins of the arch, but wonderful Acid Jazz outfit Corduroy, who reformed last year. More info on them can be found here and a good place to start with their albums would be to check this out.

Boys Wonder "Shine On Me" (Expanded Second Movement) (mp3)

Shop Assistants "Safety Net" (unreleased rough mix for single) (53rd & 3rd, 1985)

2007-12-07T08:55:00.000Z

There's a story behind this particular song, and it's here, in all its glory. I do ramble on a bit, but look at that time! 2.18 am! I think alcohol may have been involved.
As it says in the blog post, this version of "Safety Net", without doubt the highpoint of the Shop Assistants short career, was the rough mix, and not the eventual version that was released. The comparisons between the two versions are pronounced: the stereo separation is greater, the vocals are higher in the mix....but at the end of the day, the most obvious difference is the lack of guitar. By the time it was finally released, David Keegan had quite literally COVERED the song in waves of squalling guitar. To be honest, it's those waves of nose-bleed guitars that give the actual single it's thrilling power, but it's really interesting to hear how it was initially recorded. Hearing this rough mix again, after so many years, still sends a chill up my spine.
I got this tape on a Saturday afternoon, in October 1985, the day after "Safety net" was recorded, and later on that Saturday evening, we watched the band open their set at Moray House in Edinburgh with it. I've posted that live version as well, plus the second song in the set "All That Ever Mattered", with Alex giving me a little shout out at the start :)

Shop Assistants "Safety Net" (Rough Mix) (mp3)

Shop Assistants "Safety Net/All That Ever Mattered" (Live at Moray House College, Edinburgh, October 1985) (mp3)

The Muscle Shoal "Summer's Here" (Treasure Island Discs, 1988)

2007-12-07T08:34:00.000Z

One of the best things about this little blog, so far, has been hearing from the artists responsible for some of the stuff I've posted. It's been informative, humbling and astounding, in equal measure. But, of all of the stories that have emerged, none has lifted my spirits more than finally finding out some information about The Muscle Shoal. Here's a band I knew next to nothing about, appeared to be virtually un-googleable, and seemed destined to languish in undeserved obscurity. Thankfully, we now have some meat to put on the bones, which has put a MASSIVE grin on my face. So, I think it's only right that I post up the first Muscle Shoal single (and one which I referred to in my earlier post), "Summer's Here". This was the single that first made me sit up and listen to the band, and I love it just as much today as the first time I heard it, 19 years ago. Enjoy.

The Muscle Shoal "Summer's Here" (mp3)

Intaferon "Getoutoflondon" (Intacontinentalballisticmix) (Chrysalis Records 12", 1983)

2007-11-16T11:06:00.000Z

Intaferon are a band that are absolutely perfect for the Blogosphere. Unloved in their own time, yet responsible for a short run of highly memorable, quirky, melodic singles. The subject matter was always clever and moving enough to tug at the heartstrings, meaning people tend to hear them once, then spend the rest of their lives going: "there was this record I heard about 25 years ago, and I can't remember who it was by, but it goes like this....." They're a band who've feature on some of the blogs I read frequently: over at Dust On the Stylus, and at Lost Bands Of The New Wave Era (updates! PLEASE!) And of course, the records remain unavailable on CD, to this day. Well, almost unavailable- the single version of "Getoutoflondon" was, IIRC, on the soundtrack to an Olsen twins film "Winning London", alongside Plastic Bertrand, of all people. It's also turned up on some of those US compliation CD's of forgotten 80's songs. So, if we stick to the rules of this blog, the single version can't be posted, but I'm pretty sure the 12" has never officially been re-released, so we'll have some of that.

Intaferon were a duo, featuring two Simons, a Fellowes (later to go solo as Simon F, and even later than that to release Techno records as F Machine) and a Gillham, who seems to have dropped off the radar completely, apparently to go and teach Philosophy. Their trick was to work with some of the best producers of the day- with David Motion on their epic third single "Baby Pain" and with Martin Rushent on this, their debut single. I've always been in awe of Martin Rushent, his productions are one of the things that completely define the 1980's for me- his work on "Dare", with Altered Images, and his REMIXES...... It's his remixes that blow my mind. Have a listen to the stretched version of "Radio" by the Members, or "Homosapien" by Pete Shelley to see what I mean. But the one remix that towers over all of them IMHO, is this one. It's 8 minutes of frenetic, amphetamine-drenched, febrile madness. It actually starts straight away by piling into the third verse, which breaks all of the rules of remixing, then proceeds to thumb its nose at any of the remaining conventions of the remixers trade. Linn drums twitter, on the edge of seizure, vocals echo into an unintelligible soup of delay and FX....

And then there's the edits! Like the Latin Rascals a few years later, Rushent was a master of the lightning fast edit. The song seems to jerk to a sudden stop, then re-start....sometimes with no regard for the beat. It's simultaneously exciting and confusing, and that's what makes it work.. At the end of the day, it's an absolute blast to hear a record where so many ideas are struggling to be heard, and yet the song still manages to survive. It's an iconic production, and one which still stands up to examination, even after nearly 25 years.

All this genius didn't help the single, unfortunately- it only reached number 93 in the charts. Rumour has it that the single's progress was initially stymied by some rather thoughtless promotion... someone in the Chrysalis press office had some flyers printed up before the single's release saying "Get Out Of London- In Two Weeks!", in an attempt to drum up press interest. Bad move. Some of the journalists, fearing they'd been targeted by terrorists, or disgruntled musicians, called Scotland Yard. The band's relationship with the press was never the same after that.

As I said, there are no legal compilations of Intaferon's output, though bootleg CD's do turn up on eBay from time to time. As ever, caveat emptor. Gratifyingly, martin Rushent is back producing again, after a few years where he seemed to have stepped back from the business. He has a myspace page, check him out here. maybe I'll leave him a message and ask if there are any unreleased Miro Miroe remixes in the vaults.....

no sites exist for Intaferon themselves, but if anyone knows any different....you know where I am.

Intaferon "Getoutoflondon" (Intacontinentalballisticmix) (mp3)

Bon Jovi - "Keep The Faith" (Unreleased Jesus Jones Remix) (Mercury Records, 1992)

2007-11-14T07:27:00.000Z

Well, I'm very aware of the basic rules of this blog, which state:
1) Is it available on CD?
2)If not, would people be interested in hearing it?

I know the "real" version of this song certainly is available- but I'm going to take a punt on this particular version being of interest. It's been heard by about 50 people over the years, and no stock copies of it exist, there are just the Masters, the DAT's and the cassette copies that were dubbed off at the time. So it's a real oddity. I've played it to a close circle of friends and family over the years, and they've always got a kick out of hearing it, so, after 15 long years, here it is. I guess I should have asked Bon Jovi first...but hey, I lost their number :)
Why do I love this song? Well, not because it's perfect (it isn't), but because it has that indefinable quality to it- Zeitgeist. The ghost of the time (or to borrow a little phrase from Hawkwind: the spirit of the age). And I realise that I love this song whilst obviously having had a great deal to do with how it sounds; but if you can't cherish the things you've created, then what can you cherish?
So, let's rewind 15 years shall we? It's 1992, and i'm in a band (Jesus Jones. I'm the idiot bouncing up and down behind the keyboards). Now, one of the most marvellous things about being in a band is the constant string of seemingly random requests that come your way. Can you fly to Canada for three days to do some promo? Sure. Can you attend the launch party for a film you've never heard of? Sure- well, hang on, is there a free bar? There is? In that case- sure. Can you remix the next Bon Jovi single?
You WHAT?
There are surprises around every corner, and this was one of the biggest. Myself and Mike Edwards were charged with remixing the upcoming Bon Jovi single, the first to be taken from their comeback album "Keep The Faith". We were, it has to be said, gobsmacked, and a little confused as to why they'd approached Jesus Jones in the first place. The song had a four-on-the-floor kick drum, a shuffling drum pattern, it was poppy, it was...well, for want of a better word, it was quite baggy . So someone, somewhere must have put two and two together, found they made five, but called us anyway.
And so it was, that on a chilly Wednesday morning, in September 1992, I arrived at Mike's house with a few records, a few ideas, and the rough tape of this song. We created the rough bones of the remix at Mike's house, in his bedroom studio. I love the fact that Bon Jovi recorded the album, with Bob Rock, in hugely expensive studios across the US, and this song got remixed in a tiny backroom in Kilburn, North London.
The Zeitgeist inherent in this remix comes, partly from the way it was created, and also the way It sounds. It was created using the pre-eminent technology du jour, Atari's Cubase, and by an Akai S1000 sampler. Cheap, affordable and easy to use, this technology was being used all across the UK to create an absolute torrent of new Dance Music, most interestingly for me: breakbeat hardcore. It was to two hardcore white labels I turned to get the breaks for this remix- "Don't Go" by The Awesome 3, and "Dis Generation" by Cosmic Brian. Once we'd got the breaks sampled, we steamed ahead with the tune. The bass line came from our trusty Juno 6, as did the acidic squelches, the Roland D10 keyboard gave us the hats, tambourines and little drum fills, and the rest of it came from Messrs Jovi. One of the funniest memories of the entire process is listening the vocal track and hearing the line "I am broken like an arrow" and actually hearing "I am broken like marrow" We couldn't understand it- who would be broken like a marrow? Why would you compare yourself to a marrow? Even now, I'm still wondering.
We basically turned the song into a slice of poppy hardcore, with a chirpy little keyboard line, and rolling breakbeats. We made a couple of major changes to the song structure, and it's these changes which, I suspect, may be the reason behind this Remix remaining unreleased. First off, we removed the line about "everyone bitchin' 'cos the times are tough".. it just felt wrong when placed into the context of a poppy remix. So we doubled up the first line of the bridge "everybody needs somebody to love". In hindsight, we were really messing with another artist's craft, and I can kind of see why they would be pissed off. But hey, it was all done with good intentions. The second change we made was to totally re-record the guitar solo. It was my greatest musical achievement EVER, finally getting to play a totally bitching solo! We chopped the original solo into around a dozen tiny segments (if you listen carefully, you can hear the repeated phrases) and replayed them, whilst we ran the backing track. It was great fun, and i reckon the solo that emerges sounds AMAZING (well, I would, wouldn't I?) However, I'm willing to bet Richie Sambora didn't feel quite the same. Whatever.
And that was it, really; we mixed it down on the 1st of October, in Master-rock studios, just up the road on Kilburn High Street. At the mixing stage, we also recorded a mental, fast version (about 150bpm) without the vocals, called the "Shariba" mix. That version will stay unreleased :)
So, it's a song with Zeitgeist- for it's use of the technology of the time, the fact that it was recorded in basic conditions, in a spirit of adventure, of emerging possibility, with naive optimism and some of the sounds that were in our heads at the time. It's wrapped up in how I felt and thought about music back then, how I thought it should be made, how I thought it should sound, and most importantly, it's wrapped up in memories of how my life was: how things were when the band was at it's peak, and all this madness was around us. I'm certainly not pining for those days, in fact, I'm rather glad to be free of them, but it's interesting to revisit the memory bank every once in a while.
This mp3 has been dubbed off a cassette, so the quality isn't perfect, but, enjoy. It's been a long time coming.
Oh, and don't tell Bon Jovi. Cheers.
:)

Bon Jovi "Keep The Faith" (Jesus Jones Remix) (mp3)

The Jesus And Mary Chain - Live At The ICA (Bootleg cassette, 1984)

2007-11-07T23:33:00.000Z

Everyone has a favourite gig, just as they have a favourite record. Mine was not so much a favourite gig, more a full-blown, road to Damascus epiphany. After the events of the night of Saturday the 29th of December 1984, I knew that the day-dreams I'd had of joining a band had crossed over from mere dreams to being something which I could no longer control : I just had to be in a band. I didn't know how, at that point; and it took a few years before it happened, but it all stems from one gig.
I'd seen punk bands before this that made me love them, I'd even seen Duran Duran who made me love the idea of pure pop music, but I'd never been jolted into action. This gig was the impetus which I needed, and its sense of anger, violence and sheer physical release shaped everything I ever did as a musician.
So, on that Saturday night, I entered the ICA, to see The Jesus And Mary Chain. The gig was part of a week of performances, showcasing new and emerging talent. This meant you got a real mixed bag of shows, none more so than for this one. The Mary Chain were supported by pre-Raphaelite folksters Shellyan Orphan, who went down like a lead balloon with the sweaty crowd of punks, who'd obviously come down to take a look at the drunken bunch of Scots who were being hailed as the musical apocalypse. The entire front row watched in utter disbelief as Shellyan Orphan proceeded to come on stage, sit down on some stools, and then, to utter bemusement, got an artist friend to paint an Oil painting whilst they strummed their baroque ballads. Every now and again, the singer would say, mid-song, “Hey, what d'ya think of the painting?” In a wonderfully cut-glass home counties accent. I could hear the bloke next to me saying to his mate: “I'll tell him what I fuckin' think of his fuckin' painting if I fuckin' catch that poncey fuckin' twat outside later” It was nothing short of a miracle that the band escaped with their lives. Clearly, the audience had bigger fish to fry- absolutely everyone in the building was there to see the Mary Chain, and the tension was palpable as they shuffled onto the stage. And then......
....And then they did nothing. For about 10 minutes. In front of a virtually psychotic crowd, waiting for them to fail, waiting for them to pass out in a drug-induced coma (the papers were full of rumours that they basically lived on Amphetamines). The atmosphere at the front of the crowd was turning ugly, so I retreated to the side of the venue. I can see myself there now, I was wearing my long black crombie coat (de riguer at the time) a dark paisley shirt, buttoned to the neck, Tight black drainpipes and Shelly's brothel creepers. I was sandwiched between a bloke with a Leather Jacked festooned with the cover of “Punk's Not Dead” by the Exploited and some journalists, notebooks at the ready. We watched the crowd as they began to get more and more restless, shouting for the band to do something, anything. Anything at all.
After around five minutes, where they did little more than kick things on stage, the noise began. Gently at first, a small shrill whistle singing out over our heads. It went on for a few minutes more, until it morphed into recognisable feedback. The first few thwacks on the stand up drum were greeted with sarcastic cheers. Drumming for them at that point was of course Bobby Gillespie, with Shades covering most of his face, and dressed head to toe in leather. Jim and William Reid prowled around the stage, in an advanced state of refreshment. Jim, in particular, looked like he was unsure whether he was awake or not. William sat on the floor, with a black Gretsch guitar, aimlessly turning the knobs on his amplifier. And then, they finally started playing.
Six songs. That's all you got, and it was actually quite a long gig for the band (I remember the Electric Ballroom show coming in at a shade over 17 minutes) Starting with a piercing version of “In A Hole” and ending, 20 minutes later, with an inhuman shriek of noise, as “Jesus Suck” collapsed in on itself. In between those two points were twenty of the most exciting musical minutes I've ever seen. I've yet to see a band reach the same dizzying heights of nonchalant aggression since. I still don't think I'll ever see a better gig. I vividly remember every single second: Jim laughing at the stupidity of it all during “Vegetable man”, William's solo in “You Trip me Up” exploding from the bowels of the song in a sudden slash of simple genius....it was just wonderful.
Even the combative audience seemed to have been forced into submission by the wall of noise: the effect of the sheer brutality of the sound was to make you clench your fists (I had marks from my fingernails on my palms for the rest of the night) but the fists never ended up lashing out. The feedback had all of us in its thrall;gritting our teeth as this screaming monster of a gig passed over our heads.
At the end of it all, I felt drunk, giddy from the noise, unsteady on my feet. I emerged into the night air of The Mall with my teeth on edge, my ears whistling, and my heart absolutely pounding from the sheer magic of it all. It's been beating that way ever since.
There have been bootleg albums of the gig around for a number of years, I bought a few, eagerly expecting them to help me recreate the night in my mind, but they were without exception, all rubbish. Normally missing a song, or badly recorded, none managed to live up to the original bootleg cassette of the gig I bought in Camden market, a week later. The tape remains, for me, the definitive record of that night's show.
It's a pretty hefty download, around 30meg, but if you have any interest in the Mary Chain whatsoever, it's a must. Enjoy. I guess the download may mess with my fileden limit, so I'll leave this link up for less than a week-if you want this one, be quick about it :)

Jesus And Mary Chain CD's available here.

The Jesus And Mary Chain – Live at the Institute Of Contemporary Arts (I.C.A) London, 29/12/1984 (mp3)

Set List:
In A Hole
Vegetable Man
Taste the Floor
You Trip me Up
Ambition
Jesus Suck

Natural-Ites And The Realistics "Picture On The Wall" (CSA Records, 1983)

2007-11-06T08:30:00.000Z

Here's the first of what I hope will be a string of Reggae tracks on Down With Tractors- the only reason I've not posted more is that It's tricky to check just what has come out on CD, and as you know, this blog likes to try and focus on stuff that's otherwise unavailable. I'm pretty sure that this has never been re-issued, which is incredible...it's one of the most strident, yet sweetly melodic Roots anthems that I can think of. Back in 1983, I came across this record in the same way that a lot of others did: via the huge airplay that it got on the evening shows on Radio 1, particularly of course, via John Peel (they were even called upon to record a session for Peel after the release of the single). The single also made it into Peel's Festive Fifty in 1983, reaching the dizzying heights of nuber 10, which shows just how popular it was. (For all your Festive Fifty needs, I'd implore you all to check out Steve's excellent blog) If I can use a dirty word here, it was an undoubted crossover success, even threatening to be a proper hit single. There's an exhaustive history of the band here, which I'd encourage you to check out.

The song itself needs no real explanation: there's a lilting horn section providing the counter-melodies, and there' just enough of a blues inflection in Ossie Gad's voice to give the song that feeling of joy and spiritual power. This version is the edited 7" version, I know i've got the 12" somwhere, i'll try and find it(off to dig in those crates again!!)....but for now,Enjoy.

Natural-Ites And The Realistics "Picture On The Wall" (mp3)

Bourgie Bourgie "Apres Ski" (MCA 12" B-side, 1984)

2007-11-03T07:53:00.000Z

There are certain voices that sum up the 1980's for me: Billy MacKenzie, Martin Fry, Pete Wylie, Green, Morrissey (and many more) ...but one of the names on my list never seems to make it onto anyone elses- Paul Quinn.

Paul, to me, has a voice which is the Yang to Billy Mackenzie's Yin. Whilst MacKenzie was sometimes histrionic and over-wraught, lapsing into a pleading falsetto; Quinn's voice is an altogether different beast. His voice is deeper, more Rock'n'Roll, occasionally emerging as a low, bluesy howl. Yet both voices have that power, that range of expression, that spread of emotion that few others matched. Oddly, i've always felt Billy's voice, despite its falsetto swoops, was more masculine, whilst Paul Quinn, with that lascivious low drawl, had more of a feminine quality to his voice. I'm guessing that the paradoxes within each persons vocal style are the hooks that keep us all interested, keep us in thrall to these sounds.....

Whilst Billy Mackenzie is more readily accepted as an iconic performer, Paul Quinn seems to command less attention, which is a pity. I suppose this is partly due to a lesser commercial profile, but also to a sense that here was a performer who was slightly rootless: his disparate output encompasses work with The Jazzateers, duets with Edwyn Collins and Vince Clarke, as well as this short-lived outfit, Bourgie Bourgie. He never really seemed to find a home, somewhere to ground his art. If he had, I suspect things might have been different.

But enough musing, let's think about THAT voice. If you've never heard his version of The Velvet Underground's "Pale Blue Eyes", you've never heard the definitive version of the song. For an artist to eclipse someone like Lou Reed is pretty rare, but Paul Quinn manages it effortlessly. His low mournful voice, dripping with regret and pain, just nails it. Remind me to post it at some point in the future.....

But today's slice of Quinn genius is this B-side from the debut Bourgie Bougie single. The A-side ("Breaking Point") has its admirers, but for me it's always been about the B-side. "Apres Ski" kicks off with a truly memorable little riff, before wandering off into an extended bluesy jam. It sounds as though the second half of the song was extemporised in the studio; such is the sense of joy and release as the band just, sort of, mess about for the last four minutes. The feeling of a band right on the edge of it's creative powers is what makes me love this song so much. It even ends apologetically, the drummer still trying to keep the song going just that little bit longer... To appreciate the song fully, you had to have the 12" version, which feature the full version: the 7" single had both it's A and B sides cruelly truncated. For those of you who are curious about the A-side, here's some youtube action:

And here's "Apres Ski" in all it's seven and a half minutes of glory. Enjoy.

Bourgie Bourgie "Apres Ski" (Extended Version) (mp3)

Swans "Love Will Tear Us Apart" (Product Inc Records, 1988)

2007-11-02T11:46:00.000Z

Well, I'm sure I don't have to fill you in on Swans. Of all of the early no-wave/industrial bands coming out of New York's burgeoning Art-Rock scene, they were the loudest and the nastiest, for a while. The early albums are just these huge slabs of churning noise, topped off with Michael Gira's distinctive howling vocals.

So it was something of a surprise when they released this cover of "Love Will Tear Us Apart" in 1988. It's a magisterial slice of doomy pop, which always sounded to me like it should have been a HUGE hit. Oh well, what would I know? It came in a multitude of editions, and in two distinct versions: the "Red" one features Michael Gira on vocals, the "Black" one has his collaborator Jarboe turning in a slightly more mournful, slower vocal. Apparently, Gira was unhappy with his vocal performance (I can't quite see why) and though Jarboe's version has been reissued, I believe this version is still unavailable. That's a great shame; I've heard plenty of Joy Division covers, and without exception, they all seem to be dreadful. This song has a gravitas and tension that pays homage to the original whilst taking it into a new direction (it's a nice touch to have simplified the main riff by a couple of notes, letting the song breathe)

As a further delight, the "Red" version of the single came on lush Red Vinyl (natch). That's it above- it's better to look at than the sleeve, which is Red type on a Red background.

Swans "Love Will Tear Us Apart" (mp3)

Haircut 100 "Nobody's Fool" (demo) (Flexipop hard vinyl test press, 1982)

2007-11-02T09:34:00.000Z

We take the acquisition of music a little too much for granted nowadays, don't we? A download is but a mouse-click away; itunes can call on a library of millions of songs (but good luck finding exactly what you want!) and every magazine or newspaper you buy seems to disgorge at least 1 free covermounted CD.

So it's always nice to look back at a time when the height of musical technology was to be presented with a FREE RECORD, taped to the front of a magazine! Imagine that! Well, it wasn't without it's drawbacks- the record was actually a flexidisc, which meant sometimes it was creased, it wouldn't play properly, the needle on your record player would gouge holes in the flexi...... Welcome to the world of Flexipop Magazine. At the start of the 80's however, this free music/added bonus of a magazine concept was very funky indeed, and my heart would beat just a little faster when I arrived at the newsagents to see a pile of the magazines, with their flexis proudly attached to the cover: a yellow John Foxx one, The Cure (green) OMD (blue, with Nash The Slash as well)........ For those of you who remember, and perhaps those of you who are curious, there's a full list here. Amongst all of these other bands sat the subject of today's post: Haircut 100 (March 1982, Green) "Nobody's Fool" should be instantly recognisable to anyone with any knowledge of the band: it was a single after all, reaching number 9 in the charts later that year.

What's not so readily known is that this version of the song is actually solely written and performed by Haircut 100's driving force, singer-songwriter Nick Heyward. The band themselves seemed to be falling apart, due to the pressures of their new-found fame, and this song was earmarked as Nick's first solo single. In fact, it finally emerged as the last Haircut 100 single to feature Nick (the band carried on for a year or so without him, to no discernible success whatsoever). whether the band actually featured on the final single, or whether they were there merely in name, i don't really know. However, having had at least some knowledge of what it's like when bands start the process of falling apart, I can imagine the rancour and bitterness this song must have caused amongst his bandmates when they realised nick was setting out on his own and leaving them behind.

This version is fairly simplistic (as one might expect from a solo demo) but with all the added charm that demos have: yes, the vocals are shaky, the production is shonky...but there's a joyous sense of propulsion to the song: it drives along, whooping and crashing, with Nicks vocals powering along over the top. And there's one more thing that makes this copy special: it's a hard vinyl test pressing. Flexipop records were, obviously Flexis; but in the interests of promotion, the magazine had a limited number of hard vinyl copies made up of each one. These are incredibly rare: the Cure one goes for several hundred pounds, and there's an article on Goth in this month's Record Collector magazine which notes that the Bauhaus hard vinyl pressing goes for around £250! If anyone has the magazine to hand, have a little look at the handwriting on the Bauhaus label: exactly the same as on the record above- obviously it was one person's job to sit in the Flexipop offices and write out all the labels (in the same Black felt tip, too!) Well, though it's nice to know that my record is only one of 50 copies, and it's nice to be able to hear the song in some semblance of decent quality, I doubt that it's worth as much as the other Flexipop rarities. No matter, I love it just as much, regardless.

If you don't own any Haircut 100 records, then get yourself sorted. Pronto. It's less than a fiver :)

Haircut 100 "Nobody's Fool" (Demo Version) (mp3)

The Impossible Years "Scenes We'd Like To See" (Dreamworld 12", 1983)

2007-10-16T09:51:00.000+01:00

First off, a slight apology for the lack of posts, I guess i'm going to have to try and make up for lost time and post as much as possible over the next couple of days.

Next, it looks like I made it onto Hype Machine! To anyone who has arrived at this small outpost of musical whimsy as a result: welcome. Today's post relates to the TV Personalities , but mainly to Dreamworld Records, the Label that Dan Treacy set up after Whaam! records had folded. (Full history lesson here ) My connection with Dan goes back to my days at University, where I was friends with a guy called Colin Gregory. Together with his best friend from Sheffield, Dave Walmsley, they had been in a band called The Page Boys, putting out one single ("My Kind Of Girl") on Whaam!. During the course of our time at Uni, they decided to form a new band, and I actually joined them for a few weeks. I'm not sure we even had a name, though we may have been Jonathon's Chocolate Factory for a few days (!) and we restricted our musical output to furtive rehearsals in empty lecture halls where we practiced the fruits of our new venture. These included a synth-led instrumental called "Gnat In A Storm" and a song called "Telephone" which was dominated by, you guessed it, the sound of a telephone ringing. After a few weeks of this, it became clear that their ambition was greater than mine, so I left them to it. I joined my best friend Nick in a situationist art-punk duo called The Violet Wardrobe, and Jonathon's Chocolate Factory became 1000 Violins. Obviously, I kept in touch, and when I left Uni, I would follow the Violins around when they came down to play gigs in London. This led me to the TVP's, and my eventual position as sometime doorperson at Dan's club, The Room At The Top, in Chalk Farm. All of this led to my "C86 years" and I'm sure I'll get into that at some later date, but for now, let's return to Dreamworld.

There's been a compilation of Dan's output on the Whaam! imprint (here; essentially a reissue of the vinyl "All For Art...And Art For All!" compilation, with some TVP's demos tacked on), but there's no sign of any compilation of the stuff that appeared on Dreamworld. Indeed, when I saw Dan in the late 1990's , he was trawling round second-hand shops, trying to collect some of the missing links in the Dreamworld discography, with a view to just such a compilation. Unfortunately, other events got in the way, and it would be a few more years before Dan got himself sorted out (further details here) so I'm guessing the compilation remains on hold. Dreamworld was a poppier label than it's more psychedelic predecessor, and boasted some great acts: The Mighty Lemon Drops, 1000 Violins, and Go! Service/Blue Train, better known today as It's Jo And Danny. But some of the releases are a little more obscure; I can remember that the records Dan was trying to find and complete his compilation were the Jane Bond LP, and Dreamworld's first release, and the subject of this post, "Scenes We'd Like To See" by The Impossible Years. It didn't attract as much attention as other Dreamworld releases due to the fact that it's creators were the other side of The Atlantic: whereas The Mighty Lemon Drops could come down from Dudley at a moment's notice and play The Room At The Top, The Impossible Years were stuck in Philadelphia. Consequently, not many people got to hear this EP, which is a great shame. It's a beautifully constructed selection of songs, blessed with chiming guitars, sunny harmonies, poppy optimism and killer melodies. the best two tracks on the EP are "Attraction Gear", a fuzzy, psychedelic love song, and "Flower Girl", a fuzzy, psychedelic......oh you get the picture. The record itself is in the Bible for £12, though due to it's relative scarcity, I guess a price of anything up to double that would be fair.Looking around, I i notice there's one on sale on the 'bay for a fiver, which is an absolute steal, if anyone out there likes these mp3's enough to want to purchase the EP, I suggest you do so sharpish, it won't be there for long.

The Impossible Years "Attraction Gear" (mp3)

The Impossible Years "Flower Girl" (mp3)

The Muscle Shoal "Accept Yourself" (Mush Recordings 10", 1991)

2007-10-03T13:01:00.000+01:00

Here's another of those records, rather like The Bicycle Thieves single I posted, that I know nothing about. Well, not quite nothing, but hardly anything... When I worked in Rough Trade, in the late 80's, one of the people who was in and out of the shop every now and again was someone who managed this band, The Muscle Shoal. He lived near the shop, somewhere in W11, and that's all I can remember: even his name escapes me. I presumed at the time that the band were based in West London as well, though I never found out for sure. At that time, in 1988, they'd released one single, a 12" called "Summer's Here" and that was it. It was an insanely catchy slice of jangly pop and it's never been far from my record player, but I was convinced that was all they ever recorded. However, a few years ago, on one of my regular trawls through the bargain basement of The Record And Tape Exchange, I found this. It's dated 1991, which is rather odd- what were they doing for three years? I certainly don't recall reading about them, or hearing of any releases in that three year period... My best guess is that here was a band, full of hope and confidence, who released a strong debut single, got some record company interest, got a publishing deal, and promptly got lost inside the record business machine. Hey, it happens. This 10" single seems to have been self-financed, and looks like it was the band tidying up the loose ends on a career that never really got started.

Due to the myriad of references to the Muscle Shoals, they're a band who are also completely un-googleable. Like I say, all I have are two singles. The debut ("Summer's Here") will have to wait until I can locate it, but this single is almost as good : it's a piece of jangling pop wonder, with great harmonies, great lyrics (clever use of except/accept) and that all-important sense of self-belief. And i know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: if anyone out there can shed any more light on this one, do let me know.

The Muscle Shoal "Accept Yourself" (mp3)

The Muscle Shoal

Gangway "My Girl And Me" (Irmgardz, 1986)

2007-10-02T21:30:00.000+01:00

Now that, is UNQUESTIONABLY, my favourite picture sleeve of all time. I mean, just look at it! I still can't pick it up without a big daft grin on my face. Consider this a challenge: if anyone else out there can find a better sleeve, i'd like to see it.

It's 1986. i'm working in Our Price Records, Watford High Street. My partner in crime is charming young man called William Learmonth. Together, we are "High Fidelity" before Nick Hornby ever thought of putting pen to paper. We charm all the young girls into submission with a combination of winning repartee, devil-may-care attitude, and most importantly, the best records we can lay our hands on. The sort of songs that, when played, will make those self-same girls approach the counter, fluttering their eyelashes, to ask us: "Oooh, this is lovely, what is it?"

Well, what this is, is one of the greatest slices of slightly-camp, lounge pop ever created. It's the sort of record that should have been on Compact records, should have been recorded by Mari Wilson, was The Divine Comedy but better, was My Life Story but with more pop hooks...it was the sort of record that should have been a huge hit, but wasn't. Gangway were a highly accomplished Danish band, whose career should have been kick-started in this country by "My Girl And Me", but, inexplicably, it wasn't. They signed to London records over here and the single was re-recorded in 1988 (by David Motion, who did Strawberry Switchblade, Intaferon, and...ahem a couple of Jesus Jones songs...) and was totally ruined. The flow of the original, it's wit and swagger seemed to have been lost. And as if that wasn't enough, the wonderful sleeve was replaced by THIS, which is, quite frankly, totally shite.

Here's the video of the re-recorded version:

Overall, it's just one of those songs which somehow fell through the cracks. How and why seems to be a combination of bad luck, bad timing, and the capriciousness of the music business. At least it'll have it's moment in the blog-spotlight. I suspect that "My Girl And Me" will have a longer life in the blogosphere than it ever would have had in the normal charts. Enjoy.

Gangway "My Girl And Me" (Original Version) (mp3)

Chuck Wagon "Rock'n'Roll Won't Go Away" (A&M Records 1979)

2007-09-27T23:04:00.000+01:00

When I was a little Punk Rock kid, many years ago, The Dickies were one of my favourite bands ever. I was too young to see that the press thought they were a bit naff, didn't have much street credibilty, but I didn't care. The silly cover versions made me smile, the buzzsaw guitar riffs made me pogo around my bedroom, and the coloured vinyl 7"s were teenage objects of desire. So, for me, the Chuck Wagon single became something I just had to have.

here's a little background info on Chuck: he was born Bob Davis, and was one of the founding members of The Dickies, playing keyboards, saxophone and guitar. This single shows that the manic punk fun of The Dickies wasn't all there was to Chuck- it's a wonderfully mellow snippet of early synth-pop, with backwards-treated vocals hinting at someone perhaps more shy than a showman cavorting around the stage in a punk band. In the middle of the band's success, Chuck had some sort of major problems with his girlfriend and sadly committed suicide. This single is the merest hint of what sort of talent we lost.

The record itself is also notable for being one of the trickiest Dickies-related items to find. Copies of "Banana Splits" are ten-a-penny, and most of the rest of the bands catalogue is never much more than an ebay auction away: however, this single bombed spectacularly, and as a result is hardly ever seen. It was released as a purple vinyl 7", but i've got a stock copy on black vinyl, as well as a stamped promo copy (also on black vinyl).

Chuck's death affected me quite a lot as a kid, I felt like some of the fun had been taken from my musical world: certainly it seems as though The Dickies themselves were similarly affected- drugs and other problems saw them fall into a slump after Chuck's death that would take them the best part of a decade to ride out. Here's a little footage of Chuck/Bob, which has been posted up on youtube. R.I.P.

The ever-reliable Captain Oi! records have reissued most of the Dickies essential albums, full details are here. the band themselves are still going, and have a myspace.

Chuck Wagon "Rock And Roll Won't Go Away" (mp3)

Victims Of Pleasure "When You're Young" (Rialto 1982)

2007-09-27T22:12:00.000+01:00

Well, here's another single from Victims Of Pleasure, this time it's their debut single "When You're Young". My copy isn't the first issue (which came out on their own label) but the reissue on Rialto, from the following year. I've blogged about VOP before, of course (they were the subject of the first real post on this blog) but this post is as much about the genius of Colin Thurston, who produced this single. My 1980's were defined by quite a select band of producers: Martin Rushent, Martin Hannet, and Colin Thurston. He produced "Secondhand Daylight", the second Magazine album, and after that I was hooked. his slick, sometimes glacial productions shimmered across the rest of the decade, impressing and amazing me every time. For someone whose style was always supposed to be somewhat detached, impersonal and aloof, there's a warmth and honesty that draws me to Thurston's work.

And what of this particular song? Well, its sense of open-eyed wonder and naive optimism still gets me every time. This was how I felt about everything in the very early 1980's: disappointment and not reaching all your goals wasn't part of my mindset- everything seemed not just possible, but probable. Some of that hope and confidence still drips from the grooves of this (slightly scratchy) single.

Victims Of Pleasure "When You're Young" (mp3)

The Last Chant "Run Of The Dove" (Chicken Jazz Records, 1981)

2007-09-12T23:17:00.000+01:00

Here's yet another of those records that I know absolutely nothing about. I'm sure that I bought this single (in Record & Tape Exchange, obv.) because it was on Chicken Jazz, who'd released the Waterboys single "A Girl Called Johnny". (though this single came first). I remember being somewhat disappointed with the single when I first got it, but when the middle of the 80's rolled round, the fact that it was basically an EXACT copy of the Velvet Underground meant it scored some major points and stayed in my collection. It's a piece of dark, brooding psychedelia: it broods and builds, swells and surges: it's a quite extraordinarily confident record, which seems all the more confusing when nothing further was heard from its protagonists. Sometimes, great bands have enough power and drive to get that one great single out: then no more. It's the Mayfly principle at work. Live fast, die young, and leave a wonderful 7" piece of vinyl that people will blog about for years to come.

And yes, that's my digital camera that's made the sleeve look so bad. I apologise. One of these days, I promise I'll get a scanner. As ever, if anyone out there has any more info on the band, let me know.

The Last Chant "Run Of The Dove" (mp3)

Phut Phut Splodgenik "86, The Year Of The Bean" (Completely Different Records 1986)

2007-09-04T18:02:00.000+01:00

The main criteria for bunging stuff up on this little blog has to be: 1) Is it unavailable on CD? 2) Is it suitably difficult to find, therefore people might be interested in hearing it? As long as tunes fulfill those two criteria, they're in. This tune scores particularly heavily on point 2). Let me explain......

1986 finds me working in Our Price records, more often than not at its two branches in Watford. I was a cocky little kid, and not above telling the shop managers which records they should and shouldn't be ordering from the reps. The reps were the mobile salesmen from various record labels, who would pass by our shops on a weekly basis, park their Granada estates outside and stagger in with an armful of promotional stock. They would then attempt to coerce you into ordering as many copies as possible of their priority acts for that week. Often, the deal would be sweetened with the rep passing over FOC (free of charge) stock, so the shop would make a clear profit, or else we'd end up with some Belouis Some slipmats, or a Danny Wilson promotional T-shirt (oh, the glamour.) On this visit, the rep for Pinnacle had, amongst a pile of other stuff, this little beauty. It's Max Splodge (surely you guessed that?) of Splodgenessabounds "fame", in one of his many attempts to repeat the success of "Two Pints Of Lager...." This time, the target of his attention was Sigue Sigue Sputnik. "The Year Of The Bean" is a barely-disguised pastiche of "Love Missile F-111", with a lyric attempting to join the Sputnik vision of cold, robotic modernity to the 100th birthday of the Baked Bean. And it's therefore got LOADS of fart noises on it. These, it has to be said, are funny the first time you hear them, but lose their, ahem, sparkle soon afterwards. Perhaps the central failing of the record is that it seeks to try and make SSS funny, when in truth, they were doing a pretty good job of it themselves, albeit unintentionally.

So far(t), so good. The rep played the single in the shop, the manager thought it was daft, so did I; but I reckoned it would sell. So, I got the rep to put us down for 3 copies, and asked if we could get one now, and put it out in the racks. The rep went out to his Granada, coming back with a disconsolate look on his face. "Sorry lads, that's the only copy they gave me. You can buy it now, if you're desperate" Well, we weren't desperate, but we bought it anyway (it was always good to look after the reps, you'd get paid back somehow, in the future). As it turned out, I was wrong about the single: no-one wanted to buy it. Except me. Yes, over the course of the next few weeks, I became rather attached to it's juvenile charms, and persuaded the manager to let me have it as a staff purchase. We put it's number down on our order sheet, next to the three copies that we still hadn't received.

And they never turned up. I can remember phoning in the Pinnacle order over the next few months, spouting a long list of catalogue numbers down the phone "Rough Trade RT 121 for 6, Demon 56 for 10......" and every time I got to this records catalogue number "....and Mad 03 for three copies..." the computer would just emit a squawk and the girl on the order desk would say "I'm sorry, that's no longer on our lists" It had vanished. But now, it seems that it never even made it as far as the record buying public anyway: according to this it seems to have been the victim of a record company that went into liquidation, and hardly any copies ever saw the light of day. Rumour has it that Max Splodge himself doesn't even own a copy. If that's all true, I'm guessing that the copies that were given to reps were the only ones to reach the public, if indeed they ever did. If the record had a thousand-copy print run (fairly standard) there would probably have been around 50 copies which were given to the reps to drum up interest. My copy is one of those. Whatever, it's probably one of the rarest records I've got, as well as being one of the silliest. If anyone else out there knows anything more about this particular slice of buffoonery, you know where I am.

Max Splodge is still very much with us, his myspace is here. There's a great Splodgenessabounds reissue, which you can get here containing pretty much all you'll ever need (including the 40 seconds of GENIUS which is "Yarmouth 5-0")

So, to finish, enjoy, but be warned: may contain fart noises.

Phut Phut Splodgenik "86, The Year Of The Bean" (mp3)

The Bicycle Thieves "Ghost Dance"/"Louise" (Clear Spot Records, 1986)

2007-09-04T18:01:00.000+01:00

I just can't resist a request, so for Nick (see the comments on the Faith Global post), here's a forgotten gem from 1986. I got this single from a bloke I knew called Roger, who'd been putting on some gigs at Queen Mary college in Mile End in London. I'm not really sure why I was up there paying him a visit, but i found myself in the promoters office, with it's requisite detritus of singles, posters, fanzines, flyers, gaffa tape and overflowing ashtrays. Roger sat me down, and while we were chatting, said "Hang on, have a listen to this, it's by a band I'm sort of looking after at the moment" He played me "Louise" and I absolutely loved it. So much so that I begged him to let me have a copy. "Sure" he said, rooting around his desk for a spare. "Actually, that's the only copy I've got at the moment, you can have it if you like" So, it was secondhand when I got it, and it's obviously been played a little *too* much, but it's been one of my most cherished records from that day to this. It's a driving, heartfelt slice of pop melancholia, with a melody The icicle works would have killed for, and just the right amount of chiming Rickenbacker verve and swagger. It's actually the B-side to this single, but take it from me, it's easily better than the other side.

And what of The Bicycle Thieves? Well- and I'm sure you won't be surprised, nothing.I've got a 12" by the band which came out on Waterfront records a few years later, and it's not a patch on this. There's no record of them anywhere on the Internet. If anyone out there knows anything about them, I'd dearly love to know.

The Bicycle Thieves "Louise" (mp3)

Faith Global "Earth Report" (Survival Records 12" 1982)

2007-08-29T09:26:00.000+01:00

Of all the bands I've ever obsessed over, early Ultravox! come top of the pile. I've blogged about how it all started, and it all came to a glorious head when I was asked to contribute a quote to the sleeve notes for the recent CD reissue of "ha!-ha!-ha!" (My favourite album, EVER.) John Foxx-era Ultravox! made three albums, "Ultravox!", "ha!-ha!-ha!" and "Systems Of Romance", but it's the first two albums that really do it for me. And the common thread running through those two albums? Their original guitarist, Stevie Shears. Stevie was replaced just before "Systems..." by Robin Simon, and while the exact reasons have never really been made clear, it seems as if he wasn't thought to be capable of making the new guitar sounds they wanted, as the band explored differing textures and moved towards a synthesiser dominated sonic palette. That, to me, was a crying shame. It was Stevie's coruscating, amphetamine-drenched waves of guitar that made the early recordings: "Distant Smile" (from "ha!-ha!-ha!") is a great case in point; the two-note riff, on strings stretched way further than sounds necessary, still stands as some of most primal, exciting rock music I've heard. It's Stevie who blazes all across "Young Savage", it's Stevie whose riff lights up "Hiroshima Mon Amour". And they replaced him. Oh well.

After his time in Ultravox (and following a brief sojourn in Cowboys International) Stevie Shears returned to the musical arena with his new band, Faith Global. Comprised of himself, Jason Guy on vocals and associated session musicians backing him up, they released this, their debut single, and a following album "The Same Mistakes" It's a classic slice of early 80's new wave, lots of whooshing synths and earnest vocals.It's let down slightly by a tentative production job, but the melodies are strong and precise, and the tune buries itself neatly in the back of your mind.The entire thing reeks a little of The Psychedelic Furs a bit TOO much, and there's not enough of Stevie's guitar histrionics for me, but I love it nonetheless. The albums great as well, remind me to rip a few tracks from it some time in the future.

And what of Faith Global? Well, like so many of the bands I feature on this blog; nothing much. Stevie doesn't seem to have done anything since, and I can't find any trace of Jason Guy whatsoever. If anyone has any information about either, I'd love to hear it! The single turns up on eBay from time to time, because it's a bit of an adjunct to the Ultravox! story, it doesn't go for huge money, so snap it up if you see it.

Faith Global "Earth Report" (mp3)

Spudeit Dive "Virgin Sands" (Sunken Beauty Records 12", 1983)

2007-08-24T12:30:00.000+01:00

God, I love The Record & Tape Exchange. I know it's Music and Video Exchange now, but it'll always be the Record & Tape to me: I even ended working there for a couple of years when I was between Jobs in the late 90's... Here's a little bit of a history lesson about me and Record & Tape, it meanders a little, but we'll get there, so bear with me...

When I was a kid, I lived in the middle of nowhere, deep in the Wiltshire countryside. If I needed to go and shop for vinyl, it was either an hours cycle ride into Devizes, which basically had a Woolies and a couple of small music shops with tiny selections of records, or I'd have to wait and cadge a lift off my parents if they were going to Bath, Bristol or Swindon. I'd only really get to go shopping for records every couple of months, and even when I did get myself to a shop, I'd never really have a huge amount of money, so all my purchases had to be debated, pondered upon, and agonised over. All of that changed in 1981, when my father got a new job in London, and we moved to Hatch End, out in the North London suburbs. At first I was devastated to be leaving the landscape of my childhood behind, with all of it's memories, it's friendships and it's carefree happiness. This feeling of melancholia lasted about as long as it took me to work out that for about two pounds, I could get on a train, then a tube and be in the centre of Notting Hill Gate, in about an hour. I'd been to the Record & Tape in Notting Hill before, on school trips up to London; but now it could be my local record shop! I was like a kid in a sweet shop for the next six months, and my record collection grew exponentially. The great thing about R&T was it's bargain basement, full to bursting point of great vinyl at stupidly low prices. Because I still didn't really have much money, this is where I concentrated my shopping: buying things on the cheap because I liked the label they were on, because I'd seen positive reviews, because I'd heard them on the John Peel Show. All of this leads to a vitally important fact about the way my taste evolved: because I grew up buying piles of stuff at knock-down prices, it meant I ended up listening to, and loving, stuff that other people had discarded. I was being drawn to the underdogs of the musical world. Records that would otherwise have ended up unloved and alone. Sometimes it felt like a bit of a mission. To be honest, sometimes it still does.

This record is just such one of those purchases. I'd heard it on the John Peel show in 1983, taped it, loved it, memorised its details. One day shortly after that, it turned up in the basement of 38 NHG. I remember it cost me 40p. It's a fantastically dark record (I referred to the early 80's doom-rock that was everywhere in this post and this is the record I was promising to dig up and post for you) It's saturated with earth-shuddering bass, and it's liberally covered inwhat sounds like waves of church organ (or at least, an approximation of it) to give it that authentic Gothic feel. It's Bauhaus-y in it's sense of drama and scope, yet there's a little less glamour, and slightly more psychedelia in there.... And what on earth are the lyrics on about?

"Virgin Sands, walk over us.....swaying in the wheat"

Existential angst doesn't get more daft than that, does it? It's wonderfully overblown in it's vision and execution. I also remember Peel remarking on that line, and getting SERIOUSLY caught out by the ending, which seems to have been engineered specifically to frustrate him (make sure you listen to the end of the track, you'll see what I mean.)

And what of the band themselves? Well, nothing. Nothing at all. there's no real record of them on the Internet, bar this entry on Discogs. I don't recognise any of those names, and they don't seem to have done anything else. It's frustrating that there's no way of verifying whether the information is true or not.... Anyway, whatever its provenance, it's a truly great record, and deserves it's moment in the blog-spotlight.

(And as a little post-script, I still shop in 38 NHG, was just in there on Tuesday night. I bought "Amour Amour" by the Mobiles. It cost me 10p. Old habits die hard)

Spudeit Dive "Virgin Sands" (mp3)

King Kurt "Zulu Beat" (Thin Sliced Records, 1982)

2007-08-22T08:56:00.000+01:00

Thanks to a post that Mick put up, where he described a single by The Tubes as being his favourite coloured vinyl record....it got me thinking: what was my favorite coloured vinyl single? Well, it's a toss-up between "Paranoid" by The Dickies on the clearest clear vinyl EVER ( it's like a piece of glass) the Plasmatics "Monkey Suit" and "Butcher Baby" both on splatter vinyl.... Or could it be the Luminous vinyl copy of "Moving Targets" by Penetration? I got several copies of that, one to keep, one to sell, and a couple which were totally mashed and cost me mere pennies. These last copies are for my walls; they function like nightlights-when you switch the lights off, they emit a nice calming glow :)

But I guess my real favourite is the record above: King Kurt's splendid "Zulu Beat" It eventually sold about 20,000 copies, and if those had all come in one great big bunch, they'd probably ended up on TOTP; as it was, the record was a bit of a labour of love-released in batches of around about a thousand, trickled out over a few years, with different covers, sleeves, and in different coloured vinyl. There's a wonderfully comprehensive list of all the variations here. The copy above is from the "Sick-th" edition, in a wonderfully pale pink vinyl, with splatters of other colours: every time I remove it from its sleeve, it brings a smile to my face.

The record itself, if you've never heard it, is unashamedly primal rockabilly. It does sound like it was recorded in a wardrobe, but the sense of daft confidence oozing from it's grooves manages to overcome any shortcomings in the quality of the sound. And to be honest, it sounded GREAT when it was blaring out of the speakers of (so it seemed) every student nightclub I went to between 1982 and 1986.

King Kurt are, unfortunately, very poorly represented by CD reissues, there's a lot of dodgy live CD's and the like, it's caveat emptor if you're in the mood for shopping- but should you wish, fill your boots. The band themselves appear to be back after a long hiatus, check them out on myspace.

King Kurt "Zulu Beat" (mp3)

Fallout Club "Wonderlust" (Happy Birthday Records, 1981)

2007-08-21T10:44:00.000+01:00

I really need to get a new Scanner, don't I? Oh well. Here's another slice of rare early-80's electropop, and a poignant little tune, to boot.

"..And if we must, return to dust....then let it be; but give me just this moment...."

Within a few short years of penning those particular opening lines, the co-writer and singer of this song was gone. Trevor Herion (that's him on the sleeve) committed suicide sometime in the mid-80's. Details about Trevor are a little sketchy, but there's a small site here

"Not much, if anything at all is known about the life, work and tragic death of Trevor Herion, he was an Irishman in his mid 20s living in a squat with members of The Psychedelic Furs when he was first discovered as a replacement for the lead vocalist in a band called The Civilians. After the break-up of The Civilians he was to go on to form a band called The Fallout Club. After the dissolve of The Fallout Club, Trevor released a handful of singles and one truly terrific album called Beauty Life in 1983. Sadly a few years later, apparently suffering from severe mental troubles, he took his own life."

This single is also notable for being one of the first real Thomas Dolby productions (he produced the song, as well as co-writing it) Also featured is Matthew Seligman, who would go on to work with Dolby, as well as various other musicians, from Morrissey and The Stereo MC's, to David Bowie.

It came out on Happy Birthday, which is a label I don't know a great deal about; they released a couple of Fallout Club singles, as well as one by Low Noise (another Dolby project) and of course, the album "Pleasure" by Girls At Our Best. Herion himself released a couple of solo singles, one called "Kiss Of No Return" which came out on a German label called Imperial, and eventually, a solo album "Beauty Life". One of the singles from that album has been posted up on youtube (it's not actually a video, just a rip of the song)

The song itself is a wonderfully sprawling piece of melancholy electropop, Herions slightly gauche, yet heartfelt vocals cascading across the mariachi trumpets and pulsing syn-drums. It was released on 7" and 12" (I have both), but it's this 12" version that really shines.

Buy new Thomas Dolby stuff here. There's also links to the rest of his site, which contains loads of info and a blog..............

Fallout Club "Wonderlust" (12" Version) (mp3)

Ed Sirrs "I Think I Think Too Much" (Oval, 1979)

2007-08-17T14:51:00.000+01:00

I'm on a roll today, aren't I? Two posts in one day! Such is the impatience and enthusiasm which results from being new to the mp3 blog game :)
And my over-exuberance is your gain, that's for certain. not only do you get the unreleased Age Of Chance track below *points down*, but you can also have this much-overlooked gem as well.
Ed Sirrs is one of this country's most respected music photographers, working with some of the best musicians in the business. He shot some of Nirvana's most iconic images, as well as being heavily involved with photographing The Manic Street Preachers ( it was Ed that shot THAT image of Richey with "4 Real" carved into his arm)
He also photographed my band many times, though quite why I never asked him about this record, I'm not sure.
"I Think....." is a great little slice of punked-up electro-dub, coming over like a restrained Dr Mix & The Remix, with that little drum machine gently pulsing away, and the buzzing synth line over the top....if it had to be strictly defined, I suppose it might be labelled "no wave".
Ed does a nice line in self-deprecating vocals, bemoaning his own lack of success and good fortune. Ed, you're too modest. The single crept out in 1979 on Charlie Gillet's Oval imprint, never really reaching the wider audience it deserved. If you see one these days, it'll probably set you back somewhere between £10-20.

Ed Sirrs "I Think I Think Too Much" (mp3)

Hobbies Of Today "Metal Boys" (Waxworks, 1979)

2007-08-15T20:06:00.000+01:00

"Your house is burning down, what do you save?"
It's become the question that bulks out most interviews I read now; when I was growing up it used to be: "The four-minute warning has just sounded, what do you do?" . The answer was invariably that you'd kiss your loved ones/pets/schoolmates etc and tell them how you'd always loved them and you'd see them on the other side. But now, all that seems to have been superseded by this "saving stuff from the flames" business. And it's always stuff. Possessions, valuables, whatever. It's a measure of how materialistic we've become, I suppose: we used to worry about kissing our loved ones goodbye, now we worry about how we'll get that HUGE plasma screen out of the lounge before the flames ruin the screen.
Well, let's just apply the "saving stuff from the flames" argument to the one thing that all of us vinyl freaks out there would rather not think about- the record collection.
It's a scary thought, isn't it? What would you save? For the most part, I wouldn't be that bothered (yeah, right) seeing as most of the old punk stuff is now on CD, most of the rest of the collection is available somewhere on line.......
Of course, there's exceptions. I've got a couple of Lee Perry acetates with unreleased dub mixes which are completely irreplaceable, and most of the old Ska and Rocksteady sevens would have to be saved...oh, and the old-school hardcore 12"s, and the Lemon Jelly "Soft Rock" 7"......
Oh bugger.
This isn't going at all well, is it?
Right. Let me come out and say definitively, that my Hobbies Of Today single would really be one of the only things I'd save in the event of an unforeseen conflagration. What is it? Well, it's nothing, really. A long-forgotten 7" from a band from Manchester. Look at that sleeve! the lettering on the hand-printed cover was done with those plastic stencils you bought from John Menzies! The label (Waxworks) was a vehicle of convenience for this particular release, and I never saw anything else on it......
The driving force behind the band was Kevin Hobbi, who appeared to release at least one solo single after Hobbies Of Today's demise(it's somewhere in here, and will cost you £100): the band only recorded this one single, and had a track on a local compilation LP (I remember that from looking at adverts in the back of Sounds) and that was it.
And, there's the rub. That's why I'd save this particular piece of vinyl from the flames. I bought this in 1979. It came from the Small Wonder mail order catalogue-I can remember buying it with a copy of The Only Ones "Another Girl,Another Planet", with the "Flower" sleeve, and some other punk singles, whose identity are lost in the mists of time. I remember getting the postal orders from the Post Office, and the wonderful burst of excitement when the postman turned up with my single a couple of weeks later...and that copy that arrived with the postman, in 1979, on my doorstep in Wiltshire, is the only one I've ever seen. I've looked in an awful lot of record racks over the years, hell, I've even WORKED in second-hand record shops, yet I've never seen another copy.So that's why it escapes the flames; not because it's the greatest record ever made, but because I know I'd never replace it.
But why does it matter so much to me? Because it's just such a great little song: it's in the combination of that amateurish drum machine with the synths buzzing over the top- it's in the way the melody strains to go up a note when it reaches the chorus,it's in the wonderfully constructed harmonies, and most of all it's in the utterly unforgettable guitar riff....this record has haunted me since I first heard it, and it haunts me still.
If you ever catch me staggering out of a burning building, I'll be spluttering, coughing, wiping the soot from my eyes, and clutching a copy of this single.

Hobbies Of Today "Metal Boys" (mp3)

English Subtitles "Tannoy" (Glass Records, 1981)

2007-08-14T11:29:00.000+01:00

We've done some of the lighter, poppier, electropop of the early 1980's; it's time to get just that little bit darker....
English Subtitles released one single on Small Wonder "Time Tunnel" (It's available on the Small Wonder Punk Singles Compilation CD), then this single, a flexidisc which came out on Crepuscule and finally a compilation album which contained one side of their studio recordings, and a live set on the other side.
This single is just WONDERFUL, a doomy slice of malevolent goth-rock, full of foreboding and self-loathing; Karl Burns from The Fall plays drums on the track, but not many other details survive....
"They're calling my name, over the Tannoy, they're paging me...what do they want? What do they want?"
Hey, who knows. One thing is for sure, the singer (whose name escapes me) wasn't just putting on this display of paranoia for show: he genuinely had some severe "issues". The single comes with a facsimile of a newspaper cutting, detailing an "episode" he had whilst on a tube train-this culminated in him driving a six inch nail right through the palm of his own hand, whilst he calmly collected the resultant flow of blood on a sheet of plastic. This pool of blood was used for the sleeve of the single (see above). Classy.
1981 was chock-full of doom-rock like this, remind me to dig out some more for you (I've got a 12" by Spudeit Dive called "Virgin Sands" which would fit the bill.....) but for now: enjoy :)

English Subtitles: "Tannoy" (mp3)

Camera Obscura "Destitution" (Small Wonder 1983)

2007-08-10T09:56:00.000+01:00

First off, let's make one thing quite clear: it's not that Camera Obscura (not that there's anything wrong with them, I'd just hate people to get the two mixed up)
This Camera Obscura were a duo, Peter Oldroyd and Nigel James, from York. This single was their highpoint, and if truth be told, was their only real proper recorded output. They contributed a track to a compilation album called "Directions" which is utterly impossible to find...(I've been looking for quite a while)
"Destitution" was the last proper single to be released on Pete Stennet's legendary Small Wonder imprint, and made a decent showing in the independent charts on its release in 1983. There was a fair amount of A&R interest in the band, but nothing ever came of it.
Interestingly enough, for a band with such a slender catalogue and such a truncated career, there's an excellent history of the band on a site they've put up themselves:
Camera Obscura History.
Interestingly, the band appears to have had a recent burst of activity, which resulted in the production of an album of early demos being issued. It's a limited edition vinyl album, and is available here.
Sadly, the tracks on the single have never been re-issued anywhere, as a consequence it's another one of those postpunk electro-pop classics which now commands quite a high price on the secondhand market. It's a bit of a surprise to me really, I see copies of this single far more often than something like Puncture's "Mucky Pup" which was the first Small Wonder 7", but hey ho.
The song itself is another one of those timelocked early 80's synthpop classics. Just the right amount of alienation and melancholia in the lyrics, and crucially, lots of syn-drums, so you could air-drum along in your bedroom.
It's been a week for cult electro-pop hasn't it? Now I've given you a trilogy of synth tunes, I'll be casting the net a little wider next week, but for now; enjoy this, and have a great weekend.

Camera Obscura "Destitution" (mp3)

Panorama "Dream Home" (Kamera, 1982)

2007-08-09T09:56:00.000+01:00

Pete O'Dowd (aka Pete Petrol) was Spizz's foil in Spizz Oil and Spizz 77, and would continue to play a role in the group on and off until he relocated to New Zealand sometime in the early 1990's.

This record was Pete alongside Jim Solar (also a Spizz member) who seemed to have joined up (whilst on hiatus from Spizz? who knows) sometime in 1982.

It's a radical departure form all the Spizz stuff, being in fact, a fairly faithful copy of the first couple of Depeche Mode singles. If you could whack Dave Gahans vocals over the top, it would have been a double "A" side with "Dreaming Of Me". What I love about it is the sense of experimentation: 1981-2 were fertile times for synth experimentation, the technology was new, yet becoming readily available- and just as with Punk 5 years previously, there was a glorious slew of people just "having a go". This sense of breathless enthusiasm permeates the entire song, there's a confidence and a swagger to it's metronomic heartbeat.
Also, it sums up the times quite well:

Tinny beat? check.

Glacial vocals? check.

Lyrics dealing with the theme of urban alienation? check.

And all of this on a label more used to relasing singles by The Fall!

It's an oddity, to be sure, but I had no idea it was valuable as well, maybe because it's never been issued anywhere else) Mine was bought in 1982, in a pack of "10 singles for a quid". Vinyl Tap have got a copy, if you'd like to buy it-it'll set you back thirty sheets. Crikey.

Spizz stuff on Amazon: Here.

Panorama "Dream Home" (mp3)

Victims Of Pleasure "Jack And Jill" (Rialto, 1982)

2007-08-06T16:41:00.000+01:00

This was the first thing I ripped when I finally got a USB turntable; simply one of my favourite records ever.

Not a great deal is known about Victims of Pleasure: they put out one single "When You're Young" on their own label (Victims of Pleasure #VOP 1) which was picked up for a reissue by Rialto records shortly after. They had a few tracks on the "Live at the 101 Club-Off The Cuff" compilation, then another 12" single (which i've NEVER seen) then nothing.

But the interesting thing about this single is it marks the beginning of Virginia Astley's career: that's her on the rich, swooping piano lines which fill the chorus. i'm not actually sure whether she was on the first VOP single or not, but on "Jack And Jill" you can't mistake her, she's the person who lifts this little piece of electro-pop from workaday into the realm of pure genius.

It's a slight little song: two synths a drum machine, voice, and then of course, that piano. There's hints of "Isolation" in there, but if i'm totally honest, the piano always makes me think of "All Creatures Great And Small"

I've loved this record since I bought it (20p in the Record and Tape in Pembridge Road!) and it's never far from my ipod.

Enjoy.

"Jack And Jill" - Victims Of Pleasure (mp3)

OK, let's get this party started.

2007-08-06T16:27:00.000+01:00

My name's Iain. I help to run Shadowglobe, I used to be a DJ on Xfm (R.I.P.) and a musician as well.
And, since the latter part of the 1970's, I've been an avid collector of records that only I seemed to love. So, just to put that to the test, I figured it was time to start up a little mp3 blog, to share some of those tunes with you.
Enjoy
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