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Friday, 28 October 2011

Friday Street


Streets, roads and places feature prominently in Paul Weller's songs, from the punk temptations of In The City, the bomb in Wardour Street and Tales From The Riverbanks' childhood idyll during The Jam through to the fascination with Paris in The Style Council. Once solo Weller continued the psychogeography. His first solo album featured the single Uh Huh Oh Yeah and a 'trip down Boundary Lane, trying to find myself again'. His third solo album was named after the road he grew up on (Stanley Road). By this point he was busy earning the Dadrock tag, and in truth although I liked the first solo album and loved Wild Wood, Stanley Road did little for me other than The Changing Man, Broken Stones and that nice Peter Blake sleeve.

1997's Heavy Soul album led with this single, and it turns out it's an actual place (a hamlet in Surrey). 'A pulse goes on, on Friday Street' he sings but truth be told at this point that Dadrock label isn't budging.

Thursday, 27 October 2011

53rd & 3rd


If songs about streets and roads are about a sense of place, home, belonging and how far you can go from home, then Dee Dee Ramone's 53rd & 3rd is surely a measure of how far a person can fall. Dee Dee's narrator stands on the corner of 53rd and 3rd 'trying to turn a trick' and is dismayed he's also 'the one they never pick'. This two minute buzzsaw tale of male prostitution ends in murder. It wasn't all fun round The Ramones way y'know.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Sun Boxes


From the random stuff that drops into my email Inbox this is Sun Boxes from Colorado. Ambient solar powered sound installation by Craig Colorusso. Very nice and on 7" vinyl too.



What I want to know is, who are the three people who downloaded Take That's Never Forget?


Electric Avenue


Regular reader and comment leaver Artog pointed out a while ago that the Electric Avenue ex-Equal Eddy Grant sang about back in 1982 was a real road. He spotted it from the top deck of the 159 bus. It's in Brixton, SW9. Those postcodes always seem important to Londoners. In the 1880s it was the first market street to be lit by, yes, electricity and it's beautiful Victorian shop front canopies survived until the 1980s, when some philistine pulled them down. Thatcher probably.

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Keeping It Peel Day Slight Return


A second Peel Session song. It's half term and I've got the time. Early 80s left wing skinheads The Redskins, with Young And Proud from a 1982 session. Get your red docs on and bounce.

Happy 40th Mrs Swiss


Today Mrs Swiss turns 40. The musical aspects of this post might be better off here. She was into them from the start. In fact the first time she took me back to her rented house she had a Mark Owen poster on her bedroom wall. And this song is at least bearable.

Happy Birthday Mrs Swiss.

Keeping It Peel Day


Keeping It Peel Day is organised across the web by Webbie, who you can find here explaining what it's all about. I joined in last year posting a track from Sabres Of Paradise's sole Peel Session. First up today is a Half Man Half Biscuit song, recorded for a Peel Session (in I think 2004) before it was available anywhere else, rapidly becoming an audience favourite. Paintball's Coming Home attacks those people, those couples, you know the ones- they've got a new conservatory, they got married on a Caribbean beach, they've got a German Shepherd dog called Prince, they know where things are in B & Q, they made friends with people on Henman Hill, they buy soup in cartons not in tins, they hire stretch limousines, they've got a website for their cat, they keep a torch in the back of the car. Most damningly of all they've got nothing but total respect for Annie Lennox/the Mercury Music Prize (depending on which version you're listening to). I once played this to a chap who took it as a personal attack on himself. And maybe he was right.

Here's to John Peel and his memory. And this fairly bizarre photo.

Monday, 24 October 2011

AMCA CPI AW DRM


The list of letters stands for A Man Called Adam's Chronic Psionic Interface Andrew Weatherall Dodivor Remix, which is a pretty unromantic way of letting you listen to this piece of bleepy, blissed out balearica from 1991, a bit of a golden year for this kind of thing. Spaced out. And a break from all these roads and streets. Affects nasal whine 'How many roads must a man blog about, before he zzzzzzzz........'

Sunday, 23 October 2011

Whittier Boulevard


With a name like Thee Midnighters (or Thee Midniters) you just know that this is going to be hopped up mid-60s garage rock. And it is, but also hopped up mid-60s Chicano garage rock. A tribute to East Los Angeles Whittier Blouevard. We don't have many boulevards round here.

Saturday, 22 October 2011

The Sixties



I was reading what Drew wrote here about the late 80s, about how in '88 people were into the new dance music or the newish indie dance (or indie shuffle) and how there was some crossover between the two. After getting in from a colleague's gothic wedding reception last night I slumped in front of a Neil Young documentary. The combination of the two (Drew's post and Neil Young, not the goth wedding) got me thinking- around '88 everyone (well maybe not everyone, but y'know..) who was into music was into 60s bands. Not the really obscure, Nuggets garage bands but the then cult bands who've since become the 50 quid man mainstream- Buffalo Springfield, The Doors, the Velvet Underground, Love, The Byrds, Jefferson Airplane, Bob Dylan et al. All American now I look at the list. I suppose British bands were there as well- The Stones, The Kinks, The Small Faces. At the time the 60s seemed so long ago. 1968 was twenty years before and we weren't even twenty yet. In '87 there was a rash of interest in it being twenty years since Sgt Pepper and in '88 some media interest in it being twenty years since the events of May 1968. No-one I knew bought cds except one lad who wanted to be the sort of person who bought cds, a yuppie wannabe. The cd reissues of back catalogues hadn't begun. Funnily, it almost seemed further ago then than it does now, now we're completely saturated in 60s (and 70s, and 80s...) culture. In '88 we devoured anything we could find- records obviously (not always easy to get, scouring second hand shops and bargain bins. It took me until about 1995 to find a copy of Neil Young's On The Beach. Now I'd just download it), but also books, odd magazine references, very occasional clips on TV late at night, two fingers poised over the Play and Record buttons on the video. Without Youtube, feature length documentaries, books and autobiographies, box sets, reissued cds and magazines like Mojo there was so little information, so few pictures, so little source information. What we had was poured over. I knew next to nothing about Neil Young. On chance I bought Harvest on cassette for £4.49 (with that Price Cuts! sticker. Early entry level retro culture) but had no real context to put it in, other than as part of the rest of the stuff I listened to. This sub-cult 60s influenced both parts of what Drew described- the indie shufflers and the dance scene (maybe not as obviously and many of the key players wouldn't acknowledge it for fear of contaminating the newness, and let's not forget dance culture led some misguided souls to suggest that 'the 90s will be the 60s upside down'). I suppose the twenty year rule also explains the current and recent vogue for 80s sounds in pop music. Our youth becomes period drama, as the 60s generation's youth was for us. The 60s bands had a bad 80s with some terrible records, still recovering from the kicking punk gave them a decade earlier. Since the megatours started most of these bands have played an arena somewhere near you, something pretty unthinkable in 1988, apart from the then 40 something Rolling Stones. The 60s also seems to have become less defined, part of a musical cultural mush that lasts all the way up to punk (and all the punk artists grew up listening to... those 60s bands). I watched the Neil Young documentary last night and there was a clip of Buffalo Springfield playing Mr Soul on US TV. Electrifying. I would've killed to have had instant access to this in 1988. I suppose the technology is a good thing, but part of the thrill in the late 80s was the chase, the constant looking for stuff, seeking it out and hunting it down, and the heartstopping moment when you found an lp you'd previously only heard about. This is Neil Young doing Mr. Soul live, acoustically, sometime in the early 1970s.


Two pictures, I don't know why. It won't let me remove one.

Jacob Street


From the imaginary novel that forms the sleeve notes to Sabres Of Paradise 1994 album Haunted Dancehall-

''Jacob Street 7am. Stumbling from the Charing Cross Road drinker, two hours kip and off to work. Dawn over Rotherhithe...could be worse''.

Sublime.

Friday, 21 October 2011

The Return Of Friday Night Is Rockabilly Night 31


I've spent a little time looking for a rockabilly song with street or road in the title and can't find one in my collection, so I've settled for Jimmy Carrol's Big Green Car, cos, um, a car drives down a road. This is a wonderful slice of 50s rockabilly. 'I saw my baby in a big green car on the wide highway' Jimmy tells us. She gets stopped by the police. They let her go. There are engine noises at the start and the finish. What more do you want?

Beasley Street


John Cooper Clarke's Beasley Street. Street poetry, I think you'll agree.

Far from the crazy pavements
...the taste of silver spoons
A clinical arrangement
...on a dirty afternoon
Where the fecal germs of Mr Freud
...are rendered obsolete
The legal term is null and void
in the case of ... Beasley street

In the cheap seats where murder breeds
somebody is out of breath
Sleep is a luxury they don't need
... a sneak preview of death
Belladonna is your flower
Manslaughter is your meat
Spend a year in a couple of hours
on the edge of Beasley street

Where the action isn't
That's where it is
State your position
Vacancies exist
In an X-certificate exercise
Ex-servicemen excrete
Keith Joseph smiles and a baby dies
in a box on Beasley street

From the boarding houses and bedsits full of
...accidents and fleas
Somebody gets it
Where the missing persons freeze
wearing dead men's overcoats
You can't see their feet
A Riff joint shuts - opens up
right down on Beasley street

Cars collide, colours clash
Disaster movie stuff
For the man with the Fu Manchu moustache
revenge is not enough
There's a dead canery on a swivel seat
there's a rainbow on the road
Meanwhile on Beasley Street
silence is the code

Hot beneath the collar
...an inspector call
Where the perishing stink of squalor
...impregnates the walls
The rats have all got rickets
They spit through broken teeth
The name of the game is not cricket
Caught out on ...Beasley Street

The hipster and his hired hat
drive a borrowed car
yellow socks and a pink crevat
nothing la-di-dah
O-A-P
Mother-to-be
Watch the three-piece suite
When shitstopper drains
and crocodile skis
are seen on ...Beasley Street

The kingdom of the blind
...a one-eyed man is king
Beauty problems are redefined
...The doorbells do not ring
A light bulb bursts like a blister
the only form of heat
Where a fellow sells his sister
...down the river on Beasley Street

The boys are on the wagon
The girls are on the shelf
Their commom problem is
...that they're not someone else
The dirt blows out
The dust blows in
You can't keep it neat
It's a fully furnished dustbin
...sixteen Beasley Street

Vince the ageing savage
Betrays no kind of life
...but the smell of yesterday's cabbage
and the ghost of last year's wife
Through a constant haze
of deodorant sprays
He says ...retreat
Alsatians dog the dirty days
Down the middle of Beasley street

People turn to poison
Quick as lager turns to piss
Sweethearts are physically sick
Every time they kiss
It's a sociologist's paradise
Each day repeats
Uneasy, cheasy, greasy, queasy
...beastly, Beasley Street

Eyes dead as vicious fish
Look around for laughs
If I could have just one wish
I would be a photograph
On a permanent monday morning
Get lost or fall asleep
When the yellow cats are yawning
Around the back of Beasley Street


Thursday, 20 October 2011

Killermont Street


A short ride on the top deck back to Tuesday's postee Mr Roddy Frame, who ditched the lovestruckness of many of his songs on Killermont Street, realism over romanticism. Killermont Street was on 1988's glossed up Love but this version is Roddy solo, live with acoustic guitar and piano.

'Whisky words tumble down in the street with the pain that they cure
Sentimentally yours from Killermont Street'

'We can get there by bus
From Killermont Street'

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Harrow Road


Songs about roads and streets are an important part of the musical landscape. The punk and post punk lot wrote about them frequently, as if to set out where they had come from and maybe to measure how far they could go. This isn't the road as a journey, like Highway 66 or 61, but the road as home. They romanticised their local streets and roads. To most Londoners the Westway was just a concrete flyover; to The Clash it was the mythical centre of their world. Weller romanticised the woods and fields around the home streets of Surrey from his childhood and the streets of London. John Cooper Clarke found dark stuff down Beasley Street. Psychogeography I think it's called.

This is a cracking late period Big Audio Dynamite song, a tribute to Harrow Road where anything can happen, including finding Elvis in the launderette with washing powder on his nose.

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

Summer In The City Where the Air Is Still


Various bloggers have been rhapsodising about Roddy Frame's recent tour, full of Aztec Camera songs, which makes me wish I'd done something about going to the Manchester gig. But I didn't. So instead I've relistened to some Aztec Camera songs. Somewhere In My Heart is commercial 80s pop, radio friendly, unit shifting gold. It's easy to criticise- bad synth horns, big 80s drums, squeeling guitar solo, verging on corny/cliched lyrics and none-more 80s video. In 1988 I liked it secretly, despite myself. Roddy was one of the good guys but in '88 this just seemed much too pop. Still, it was part of the soundtrack of finishing 6th Form and going to University. And I've got a large soft spot for it.

Monday, 17 October 2011

Kiss Me Where The Sun Don't Shine


It looks like it's going to happen. I'd rather it didn't. Some things are better left as they where. But if they play somewhere round here next summer I'd have to go (assuming demand for tickets allowed it). Even though I'd rather they let it lie. Somehow, reforming for big money shows twenty years on doesn't seem like what they stood for in 1989.

She Bangs The Drums is perfect, a musical and lyrical manifesto I never get bored of. 'The past was yours, the future's mine'.


And this is a link to Youtube where you'll find a pretty stunning live performance of Fools Gold in Finland in 1990.

I Believe In This And It's Been Tested By Research



Or Clash covers, slight return. Jesse Malin, posted here last week with his song Wendy, turned in a piano led cover of one of Joe Strummer's key lyrics and one of London Calling's key songs- Death Or Glory with it's cheap hoods, gimmick hungry yobs, love and hate tattoos, sofas and girls, nuns and the church, dingy basements, dragging handclaps and how death of glory is just another story.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

There's No-One There


Hangover. Tired. Headache.

In a chain of events I won't bother to explain I ended up watching Rochdale play Colchester yesterday. I like watching lower league football every now and then. You can stand up. You can pay on the gate. The crowd have realistic/low expectations. As Rochdale went looking for an equaliser in the second half a long ball was punted towards the box. 'There's no one there' a man sighed. He looked like he'd spent the last 40 years watching Rochdale lump the ball towards the box, in vain hope of a goal. And he was right, there was no-one there.

Random song- M Craft covers She Sells Sanctuary by The Cult, acoustic style.

Saturday, 15 October 2011

I Ain't Seen The Sunshine Since I Don't Know When


Despite Nigel Blackwell's withering put down of the middle aged male Johnny Cash fan on Half Man Half Biscuit's new masterpiece (go buy it here if you haven't already), I can't get enough of this song at the moment. The stuff of myth and legend.


After describing the terror of being cornered by a pissed Johnny Cash fan who goes on and on about the man in black, Nigel segues into...

'I wear a wrist watch on this arm of mine
I keep my flies wide open all the time
And I shot a man in Tesco
Just to watch him die'

...which is the kind of thing we pay our entrance money for.