musElectric

Difficult Music Meme

2005-06-13T14:16:00.000+01:00

(via Yorkshire Soul, by way of Eat Your Carrots and Boblog.)

Top 5 lyrics that move your heart:

I Am The Cosmos by Chris Bell;
Coming Right Along by the Posies;
Rainy Night In Soho by the Pogues;
In The Wee Small Hours by Frank Sinatra;
We Will Fall by the Stooges.

Top 5 instrumentals:

The Liquidator by the Harry J. All Stars;
Warrior Charge by Aswad;
Goodbye Pork Pie Hat by Charles Mingus;
Peaches en Regalia by Frank Zappa;
Voodoo Ray by A Guy Called Gerald.

Top 5 live musical experiences

The Jam at Leisureland, 1978;
U2 at the Claddagh Hall, 1979 (pity about the whole drum thing);
The Specials and The Beat, co-headlining at Leisureland, 1980;
Dexy's Midnight Runners, Seapoint Ballroom, 1980;
Clannad, the Peadar O'Donnell school, Arranmore, 1975.

Top 5 artists you think more people should listen to:

Arthur Lee;
Chad Dughi;
the band Lucas;
Mark E. Smith;
Ruth Dillon.
(Ruth's new CD is coming out soon, plug plug, and I know because I was playing with her last night, smarm smarm.)

Top 5 albums you must hear from start to finish:

The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway by Genesis;
London Calling by The Clash;
Forever Changes by Love;
Happy / Sad by Tim Buckley;
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles.

Top 5 musical heroes

JohnPaul GeorgeRingo (okay, I'm cheating :-P);
Alex Chilton;
Miles Davis;
Jeff Beck;
Bob Dylan.

Top 5 intros:

The twiddly classical guitar bit at the beginning of Roundabout by Yes;
The bit of tape grot, studio mumbling and the sudden "one-two-three-four that prefaces Taxman by the Beatles;
The organ lick that opens Them's cover of It's All Over Now, Baby Blue (see below);
The guitar lick that starts off What Difference Does It Make by the Smiths (they were supposed to be indie boys, so why did it sound suspiciously like Status Quo?);
The one that goes: "You ain't nothing but a...".

Top 5 songs that take you right back

Hotel California by the Eagles, and not for a good reason. I was working in a pool hall - stroke - amusement arcade in the summer of 1977, and this tune was on the jukebox. It's not a bad number by any means, deftly written, nice chord progressions, smart guitar playing. Even though I was supposed to be a punk rock fan at the time, I liked it well enough. It's just that I still haven't heard back from NASA about the exact number of times I actually heard Hotel California played that summer. Whatever the exact amount, the song etched itself permanently into the grooves of my brain, FOREVER. To this day, even though I like the Eagles, even though I like the song, I still groan and gnash my (remaining) teeth whenever it comes on.

The Liquidator by the Harry J. All Stars (see above under favourite instrumentals). Probably not very well known, but it's a bright, breezy, sunny, skipping ska/bluebeat organ instrumental that always brings a smile to the facial area. A few summers after the above, when I worked in another amusement arcade, my brother Pat would come in in his rude boy gear - pork pie hat, three-button jacket - and play this tune on the jukebox a couple of times, doing the nutty dance. Remembering Pat brings an even bigger smile to my face.

Yellow Submarine by the Beatles. Not their most heavyweight musical achievement, no. But when I was a young lad I'd have to stop eating breakfast and listen to this when it came on the radio, while my cornflakes went soggy.

Why Was It So Easy? by Darryl Hall. Love you always, Coogers.

I'm Not In Love by 10cc. What can one possibly say? Teenage parties. Beautiful French girls. Perfume. Big boys don't cry.

Top 5 Cover Versions:

The Jeff Beck group having a soulful canter through Bob Dylan's Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You;
Lis Frazer and This Mortal Coil sprinkling fairy dust on the already classic Song To The Siren by Tim Buckley;
The Posies coming as close as any mortals could ever possibly get to the heartbroken grandeur of Chris Bell's I Am The Cosmos;
Van Morrison and Them snarling and snapping their way through It's All Over Now, Baby Blue by a Minnesota song-and-dance man I believe I've mentioned several times already;
Tim Buckley ~~transcending the boundaries of the space-time continuum~~ interpreting Fred Neil's Dolphins.

2005-06-09T16:37:00.000+01:00

Beaterator is an 8-track sequencer and sampler that works in your browser. Fiendishly clever. Discovered via blueskies.

Over at the Leptard, Winnie-the-Puke and his pals are celebrating their second year in blogdom. Everyone is welcome to join in the celebrations with them, as long as you're not a Heffalump, a Woozle, or a hippie.

Went to see Joy Zipper on Tuesday night - the gig was a lot better than I expected. I'd heard some of the American Whip album and thought it pleasant & tuneful enough, but wasn't really blown away. Have to say, though, that the Zipper's tunes really take off live, in a band context. Plus, Vinnie and Tabitha have a unique sort of "couple vibe" on stage that isn't silly or cloying, but completely natural. Great stuff, and I have a funny feeling that I'll be shelling out for the new CD come payday.

Alive, alive-o...

2005-06-03T11:31:00.000+01:00

Loads of Swervedriver rarities at the band's own site. Some excellent stuff here.

A great double-header down the local last night:

2005-05-30T10:49:00.000+01:00

Jinx Lennon has to be seen to be believed. It's impossible to describe what this man does, and more so to someone not from this island. Let's just say that, though he plays guitar and sings songs he wrote himself, the label "singer-songwriter" hardly fits him. And though he also uses verse and spoken word, "poet" seems too heavy-handed a description. Sometimes "bingo caller for a new generation" might fit, but the important thing to remember with an artist like this is: once you've applied a label, the next time you look he will have shucked it off and moved on to something entirely different. Jinx Lennon's repertoire is what it is, entirely unique.

You really had to be there, then, to see him play - no doubt you'll get a chance again. By turns Lennon's stuff is funny, scary, bizarre, but most of the time absolutely spot-on. The planet is full of singer-songwriters whose chief ambition seems to be making the opposite sex feel sorry for them. Lennon, who comes from Dundalk, is actually using his talent for a very different purpose, one we're only beginning to glimpse. He writes about the real Ireland, the seamy side of things, life on the Louth/Armagh border, the FÁS instructor taking course participants out for a feed of drink, the view from Forkhill, how easy it is to get sucked into The Circle Of Shit. He gets a lady called Paula up to sing a few with him and their voices blend perfectly. There is nothing like this kind of music on the planet, and more people should hear it.

Things kind of went down a notch when he pulled out a keyboard and started doing stuff to programmed beats. Some of it worked, some of it needs work, but it's all part of the push towards Free State Nova I guess, and it actually got people up dancing, which is cool. It's hard to get your head around Lennon's music sometimes, but it's worth the effort; this stuff is entirely unique and You Couldn't Make It Up.

James Joyce, or at least Stephen Dedalus, spoke of how he wanted to "forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race". This may sound a bit much, but Jinx Lennon could well end up doing something similar.

The Ramonas then. What can you say? They're an all-girl Ramones tribute band, they look just like the brothers, erm, except they look prettier than the brothers. They obviously love the music and lash in to every tune with gusto, prefaced by the obligatory shout of ONE!TWO!THREE!FOUR from the bass guitarist. They sound brilliant. In an ideal world, they would be playing in your local every weekend.

Your calves sore from all that pogoing and bobbing on the balls of your feet, feeling fourteen years old, with a big grin on your face, some of the coolest popular songs ever written running through your head - why isn't going home from a gig always like that?

Bang bang, the mighty fall...

2005-05-23T10:24:00.000+01:00

B. A. Robertson is a man with a pedigree. If you haven't heard of him, chances are you own something that he has a hand in, either as a producer, songwriter or session musician. He's worked with everybody. Stateside music fans will know him best as songwriter and occasional member for Mike and the Mechanics: he wrote Silent Running and The Living Years. Over here, he's remembered chiefly as the guy who had a string of novelty hits in the late 70s-early 80s: silly but witty and enjoyable tunes like Kool In The Kaftan, Bang Bang and Knocked It Off. In his time, Robertson was also responsible for the more credible end of the (ahem!) Cliff Richard repertoire. I'd forgotten that he also wrote the old Scotland World Cup Squad anthem, We Have A Dream...

So, last night in the Róisín Dubh we crusty old music geeks were probably expecting some colossus-bestriding-the-industry type figure, instead of the lanky, down-to-earth Glaswegian who slid surreptitiously behind an enormous Kurzweil piano (I want one!) and started quietly playing some of his tunes. He's still plugging away out of the limelight and apparently does a lot of songwriting workshops for different communities here and there. Plus, he's after bringing out a new album called I Didn't Mean To, I Just Did.

It turned out to be an enjoyable night; with Robertson doing some fine readings of tunes that have been big hits for other people, as well as showcasing a few of his new, less well-known tunes. They're pretty fine, especially the one about Martin Luther King. There was an obligatory run-through of some of those old novelty hits, though Robertson didn't remember many of the lyrics. It fell to the audience of crusty old tossers with way too much spare time to help him with the lyrical gaps.

All in all, Robertson came across as a decent sort who genuinely enjoys playing and writing music, and was happy to meet and chat with people afterwards. Not a bad way to spend a wet Sunday night atall atall.

Another good man gone.

2005-05-18T10:36:00.000+01:00

Monday night saw a(nother) bit of an impromptu session in the local. I live close by so I went around the corner and grabbed a mandolin. One of the bar staff sings and plays in a local band, and I hope to write something nice about them soon once they bring out their CD. In any event it was a pleasure to play a couple of tunes with him.

Just before we started, we were shocked and saddened to learn of the passing, only a few hours before, of one of Galway's best musicians - guitarist Dave Coen. He died suddenly at the age of 49, leaving a wife and two grown kids behind him. The man will be missed indeed. The enormity of it didn't sink in until we'd finished, and I suppose it was apt, in a way, to play half-an-hour's worth of tunes in memory of a great musician and a good man. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam, as they say.

Bom-bom-bom-ba-bom-bom, bom-bom-bom-ba-bom-bom, I feel free...

2005-05-16T14:46:00.000+01:00

Once upon a time there was a three-piece rock band. They were successful and highly respected in the industry, but beset by personality clashes. The drummer and bass player hated each other with a passion and fought constantly. It fell to the guitarist, a quiet, unassuming type, to try and mediate between them. A terrible pity, because they were a good band in their day. The truth is, they'll probably never play together again. But that's enough about the Police.

Not too long ago, Cream got back together again for a couple of dates in their old stamping ground, The Albert Hall.

Marie's the name.

2005-05-16T10:15:00.000+01:00

Most Sunday nights I go into a quiet little pub in Lower Salthill where two brilliant ladies sing and play their hearts out, and a couple of people sometimes sit in for a few tunes. Last night they did His Latest Flame by request. A local guy I'll call Fred had asked for it. The mandolin player then did Wooden Heart - he made quite a tasty job of what's usually regarded as a throwaway tune.

Fred danced around with an expression of sheer bliss on his face. From a far corner, a chap called Eamon pitched in with his version of The Wonder of You. Yours truly had a guitar plonked in front of him and ended up being persuaded, with the aid of sharp sticks and the offer of a free pint, to rattle through Heartbreak Hotel and Suspicious Minds. All in all, a very King-centric evening, uh huh.

There wasn't a big crowd in the pub - about 25 people at best, and most of us knew each other. Fred explained to a few of us how he was devoted to Elvis in his teens; he was one of those European fans who hoped against all hope that some day The King was going to come and play over here. It was not to be, but the teenage Fred had saved up some money just in case. "And then," Fred told us, "then some woman came along and ruined my life."

He was joking; I know the woman he was talking about. Her name was not Marie, but then his name isn't really Fred either. They married young, had a son, and split up, but they remained friends. Marie died five years ago. She did not ruin his life, and he knows it well; she enriched it considerably. Mine too. Fred doesn't remember, but I was the guy who stole her off him.

The bell hop's tears keep flowing
The desk clerk's dressed in black...

The Friday Frank

2005-05-13T12:23:00.000+01:00

(This ersatz meme was recycled from the other place, where it was originally inspired by a visit from The Muffin Men.)

1. Billy was a mountain. Ethel was a tree growing off of his shoulder. One day they decided to take a vacation. Where did they decide to go? If possible, use music in your answer.

2. Do you have a kitchen? Is it dangerous? Why or why not?

3. What does the poodle do after it bites?

4. Do you think it is great to be alive? If so, exactly how great to be alive is it?

5. Are you familiar with the music of Frank Vincent Zappa, or is he just someone your dad likes?

2005-05-13T11:52:00.000+01:00

Why the Beatles invented heavy metal @ Yorkshire Soul.

"I'm the one who comes on Radio 1 late at night and plays records made by sulky Belgian art students in basements dying of TB."

2005-05-12T15:17:00.000+01:00

The Perfumed Garden was the name of John Peel's show on the pirate station, Radio London, back in the 60s when I was but a sprat. But now there's a blog called The Perfumed Garden, run by Kris from Burning World, where you can get a listen to some sessions from Peel's BBC radio show from over the years. Good to see someone doing this sort of thing.

And the silly title for this post came from this fine compendium of Peel quotations.

Wizardry in William Street West

2005-05-10T10:58:00.000+01:00

Massimo's bar, that haven of Chelsea supporters, tobacco addicts and Cian Campbell's love children, are hosting a songwriters' night on Monday called the Listening Lounge. Checked it out last night and it was not three bad atall atall. For four euros (ie. pretty much the price of a pint of lager) you get to see a handful of local talent, and I have to say the stuff on display last night was very good indeed. On the night, there must have been five or six artists but I only got a proper listen to three.

David Lydon has been around for a while now; he did a few of those Galway Bay FM Jon Richards sessions. I've seen him a few times and enjoy his stuff; he's definitely an underrated talent. If you can dig up one of those old Origin compilation CDs he contributes a couple of tracks that are highly recommended. Guitar playing is very spare and unhurried and his voice, when it gets going, is a great expressive instrument.

Next up was Tulpa, a.k.a. Bushy who used to be in the band Beretta. Hadn't seen him solo before, and it was a pleasant surprise. It's hard to categorise his stuff but you could almost put him in the same bag as writers like Sufjan Stevens or Davendra Banhart - a lazy comparison, but it might give you some idea. His voice is unique, smoky and full of character, and his twelve-string playing is stellar. The songs are sometimes strangely put together, but they're compelling and they draw you in. More please.

In all honesty I'd come to see my pal Roger Martin, a.k.a. Stone Orr, who was playing last. Roger is from Ardee in the county Louth and has been mixing sound for bands here in Galway for the last few years. I'll admit my bias but I have to say Roger acquitted himself very well, doing some accomplished solo readings of a few songs from his CD. (Maybe I'll post one or two of these, if it's okay with the Wookie himself.)

So there you go; I've said it before and I'll say it again: In Galway, we're spoiled for music. Where else can you wander out on a Monday night and end up being captivated, spellbound even, by a selection of local talent that barely even scratches the surface of what goes on around here?

Anyway, the Galway Advertiser gave the Listening Lounge a plug last week: there's a .pdf version of it here.

2005-04-21T09:30:00.000+01:00

If all goes well, musElectric should be back up and running within the next couple of weeks - hopefully by mid-May.

I'm also looking for contributors, possibly with a view to turning this into a team blog. Anyone who's interested in taking part, please get in touch.

See you soon.

Sos beag

2005-01-11T13:26:00.000Z

I started musElectric last October with a specific project in mind. I've kept another blog for almost three years now, and put a lot of (virtual) elbow grease into it. Letting Loose with the Leptard isn't devoted to one particular type of thing - sometimes I post about books, movies, music, whatever. I try to keep angsty mid-life crisis content to a minimum.

Music is one thing I've always enjoyed writing about. In my school days, back in the ~~Mezozoic Era~~ Seventies, I used to run down to O'Brien's newsagents every Thursday for my copy of the NME. I'd fill copy books with reviews of my favourite records, lyrics and chord changes for my own songs, lists of albums I wanted to buy, stuff like that.

I'll never forget the excitement of counting up my pocket money and realising I had three greasy pound notes and some change, enough for that copy of Revolver I'd been ogling for months. Or bringing back three (allegedly) different copies of Dark Side of the Moon to the same record shop because no matter how many times I changed it, it always seemed to have a skip in the same place. Or finally cracking the chord changes to The Kids Are Alright after months of sore fingers and dropped plectrums. Or eventually getting the chance to play tunes I'd written myself live on stage.

After I left college, I got a job for a local paper and had the chance to develop my own music column. That was nice, but also a pain in the arse after a while, quite frankly. Writing about music was always fun, but in all honesty playing it and hearing it was always a lot better.

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a musical family and every day when I'd come home from school I'd head straight for the back toilet, where the reverb was good, with my old Egmond guitar. Even several years spent playing in a band with the most resentful, dishonest, immature and just plain idiotic person I have ever encountered in my life didn't diminish, and hasn't diminished, my enthusiasm for playing. Music has always been a big part of my life, and the conduct of one or two idiots (well, one idiot actually) isn't going to change that.

When I started off my other site, the Leptard blog, just short of three years ago, I decided not to concentrate on one particular subject. Every now and again I'd post about music, naturally enough, but as far as I was concerned my brief was Miscellany, not Music. Late last year, I decided to start this blog, and use it exclusively for music. I had plenty to say after all. Plus I had a particular project in mind, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post. It hasn't come to fruition yet, it's "on the long finger" so to speak. It'll take a few months' work at least.

More importantly, the last few months have shown me that I can't completely excise music content from my main blog, and it's probably a mistake just to ghettoise all the music posts over here. About sixty people a day read the main blog, and only about 6 a day read this one. (Awww.) Plus, regular visitors to my other site have remarked that it's hard enough keeping up with their usual regular blog reads without having to add another to the list. That's fair enough.

William of Ockham has taught us that it's a bad idea to multiply inessentials, and it looks like that's in danger of happening here. So what I'm presenting here is a Modest Proposal.

musElectric (the site wot you are looking at right now) isn't going to go away, but it's going to be a static site for at least a couple of months, while I do some work on the Mysterious Project I've alluded to. In the meantime, the main content, both music-related and otherwise, is going to be over at my main site, the blog known to men, women and Revolutionary Woodland Animals as Letting Loose with the Leptard. Those of you who've come here, linked to this site, left comments, and sent encouraging emails (as well as welcome constructive criticism) are more than welcome to come join us over at the other site, where there's (hopefully) plenty of fun to be had.

But for the time being at least, musElectric is going into hibernation. Not calling it quits altogether, but rather, in the manner of Ross and Rachel, going On A Break. Until the Secret Project comes to fruition, I'll leave yez with a couple of links, including one of my own tunes.

Some fine tracks by Scottish indie mavens Orange Juice, and links to other Postcard records related stuff @ Indie MP3.

Anyone who's seen 24 Hour Party People, that excellent movie about the Manchester music scene, will probably remember "Tony Wilson"/Steve Coogan repeating several times how he'd like to see a "Durutti Column revival". Rightly so, because the Durutti's music always deserved more recognition. So here's The Durutti Column - plenty of old articles, a discography and even a couple of tabs in the archives, as well as a few tunes provided by chief Columnist Vini Reilly himself.

One of my own: This is a track called Not Much New that I knocked up last summer, when I was living in a bright, airy (but expensive) flat with a view of the Galway Docks. I actually took an older tune I'd written several years ago, sliced it up into loops and made something completely different out of it. Not Much New is available for the next seven days via yousendit, and after that I'll make it (and a few other tunes) available at the Leptard's lair.

See you soon. :-)

All is quiet(ish), a week after New Year's Day.

2005-01-07T10:43:00.000Z

The Night U2 were the bomb at Galway's Claddagh Hall.

Link takes you straight to a .pdf of an article from my local paper, the Galway Advertiser, about U2's visit to our fair city a quarter century ago. Warning: link contains photos of the Edge when he had... a little bit more on top.

Here's an eyewitness account of the same event by a bright-eyed young thing who happened to be playing in the support band. (Well, he was young in 1979 anyway.)

No one here gets out alive...

2005-01-06T09:00:00.000Z

Farewell to Danny Sugerman.

Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin.

2004-12-17T13:09:00.000Z

No Wave Christmas @ Just for a day. Fine trax by James White, Suicide, Christina, & more.

Beatles Christmas Records @ Sci-Fi Hi-Fi.

Anyone who got here from the other site will know that I work in an academic library. We've just got a copy of a great new book called Irish Folk, Trad and Blues: A Secret History. It's by Colin Harper and Trevor Hodgett, a pair of Belfast journos who most definitely know their stuff. The Belfast connection is important, because they steer clear of bodhrán-toting Paddywhackery and have a clear perspective on the relationship between Irish and British folk music (these islands have a common Celtic heritage after all). What better excuse to print photos of fellow-traveller Brits like the Watersons, as well as the brilliant, beautiful Annie Briggs? And it's not just about folk music either, as is very clear from the prominent photo of Rory Gallagher on the cover. The writing is good, very knowledgable and witty, and there are plenty of excellent, rare photographs of the people who played their part. This book HAD to be written, and it's a bloody good job someone came along and did it properly. Leabhar an-mheasamh ar fad.

My brother Kev, not content with being able to play every instrument known to man, has lately become fond of the ukulele. I know, I know, but it's better than the accordion, believe me. He will be glad to know that there actually is a Uke Blog out there (I knew there had to be, somewhere): Ukulelia by name called. Damn good too. (Discovered via Pepper of the Earth.)

2004-12-14T13:10:00.000Z

My uncle, Patrick Collins, formerly of the Blue Bell Céilí Bandas well as the Berwyn Showband.
He passed away after a long illness last month.
There's a (slightly) longer appreciation of him here.
This is scanned from a newspaper, hardly a high-quality photo, but I think it captures the essence of the man, the way we'll always remember him.

Oh Christ, I think he's even combed his hair...

2004-12-08T11:52:00.000Z

A few select Chuck E. Weiss trax @ *sixeyes. Extremely Cool, indeed.

A couple of fine tunes from Declan Patrick Aloysius McManus @ Teaching The Indie Kids to Dance Again.

My dad is going to see Planxty tonight, and all I can manage (grumble, grumble) is this link to a feast of Dublin trad @ Radio Free Sauble.

Jim Fitzpatrick designed a lot of Thin Lizzy's early album covers, and also brought out a bunch of his own art books. The Book Of Conquests was always a favourite - kind of a graphic re-telling of Irish folklore, not quite a comic, not quite an illustrated book, more a sort of illuminated manuscript for the modern age... Fitzpatrick's style always hovered between the poise and elegance of old-school illustration and the hip kineticism of 60s comics artists like Kirby, Steranko and Barry Windsor-Smith. There's some fantastic art over at his site. You should go there, now.

Why waste your time here? I mean, here I am posting about Art, and this is supposed to be the Music blog, dammit.

Not A Lot Of People Know This: Fitzpatrick also designed the legendary Che Guevara poster. Guevara's dad was named Lynch btw, and that branch of the family originally came from Galway.

Open the door, Homer.

2004-12-07T10:27:00.000Z

Bob Dylan speaks - his first TV interview in almost 20 years for 60 minutes. Via cool hand bak. Not as cool as his Simpsons appearance, but what could be? (Yes, the link has screenshots.)

Some fine stuff from A Certain Ratio @ totally fuzzy. Hurry! (And no, they did not get their name from Mein Kampf; they got it from a Brian Eno song. Duh.)

More Sax Links.
Early days yet, but potential to become a fine resource for those who rattle the reed.

A certain surprise.

2004-12-06T10:46:00.001Z

John Martyn - Live At Leeds

Okay, it must be John Martyn month or something round here at musElectric. For which no apologies. After seeing him live last week, I went digging for old stuff. My old vinyl copies of Solid Air, Glorious Fool, One World and Grace & Danger seem to have gone the way of all flesh, but I managed to unearth this old CD reissue of a classic live LP...

Live At Leeds was, technically, a bootleg album, the only wrinkle being that the bootlegger was also the artist himself. John Martyn brought this album out under his own steam in 1976, frustrated by the music biz (and probably just plain out of money). You could only get it by mail order (unless of course you wanted to call by the house). His own record company either didn't want to bring it out or just plain didn't have the wherewithal. It was available in a limited edition of 10,000 at first, numbered and personally signed by the artist - this was in the mid-70s, mind, long before indie music reared its jangly head.

Live at Leeds got a CD reissue in 1998, and a bloody good job too. If you think about how moribund straight rock had got by the mid-70s, leaving the way clear for a bunch of pub rockers and young punks to try to break in, it's astounding that music of this quality was being given short shrift. Martyn's folk/blues/rock/jazz fusion was years ahead of its time, and the rippling, echoing patterns that he conjured up on both acoustic and electric guitar were so innovative for the time that I won't even bore you by listing the number of musicians who've been influenced by his style (but hello, The Edge, to name but one).

Danny Thompson, from folk-jazzers Pentangle, was an important part of this sound too, his woody, elastic-sounding double bass singing and thrumming like a mighty sea creature; Martyn's ideal musical foil. On the opening track, Outside In, the band reach into their (collective) sleeve and pull out an 18-minute long track that is completely impossible to categorise. If you want to call it folk, go ahead - but it has more in common with Miles Davis, Coltrane or even Pharoah Sanders. In other words, it was light years more 'progressive' than the rock bands of the day singing about elves or Yogananda. This track is particularly enlivened by the appearance, halfway through, of former Free guitarist Paul Kossoff, whose lyrical Les Paul phrases take the thing to a whole other place. A true classic of collective improvisation - a whole lot better than the bilge that Cream got away with on those overrated live albums of theirs. (Kossoff is only credited on the five bonus tracks, but if that's not him playing on Outside In, I'll digest my derby, make hashbrowns of my homburg even.)

Favourites like Solid Air, Man In The Station or (especially) Bless The Weather get a fine, sensitive treatment, but wherever possible the band breaks out into more of this type of improvisational magic. Bless The Weather, a gorgeous little tune in its own right, is completely transformed by having this sort of fairy dust sprinkled on it. Similarly, I'd Rather Be The Devil actually surpasses the original (on Solid Air) in my opinion - it original macho swagger replaced by something more puckish and playful, thanks to Thompson's nimble bass playing.

Sound quality, overall, is middling to good - nothing to write home about, but the quality of the performance transcends all that. The five bonus tracks on the CD reissue sound pretty lo-fi by comparison, but You Can Discover and My Baby Girl coast by nicely enough. So Much In Love With You is a mistake, though - Kossoff rejoins the band to play lead guitar and is obviously somewhat more, er, refreshed than he was previously. His playing is leaden and clumsy, and you can actually hear the band seem to back away from him like an unwanted drunk friend who's turned up at the wrong time. Martyn gets over this by turning up his own electric, and the band trundle through Clutches and Mailman like a barroom boogie band waiting for closing time.

Have no fear, though, they're only bonus tracks; I'm sure even the Mona Lisa has the occasional fly speck on it. And there are definitely better ways to remember a fine musician like the late great Paul Kossoff. Martyn fans will love this set; others may scratch their heads at first but if they're lucky, they'll be able to get into the unique, swirling sound that Martyn, Thompson and Stevens manage to create here. (Plus, their pisstake of Ravel's Bolero is a hoot.) A forgotten gem, and yes, JM appears to have stolen the title, and indeed the "fake bootleg cover" concept, from those London lads Thee 'Oo, who brought out theirs in 1970.

Space age bachelor's marrowfat peas music.

2004-12-03T11:40:00.000Z

Some sound clips of the legendary Esquivel.

Dead Boots dot com is a great place for, well, Dead boots.
(Via OpenDir Festival.)

I've put up a track called Elapsed, which is available via Yousendit for the next couple of days. Just trying to see if this is a viable way of posting sound clips, which would make this site a bit more interesting. It's about a 1.7 MB download; don't get too excited - it's just a minute or so of me mucking around on an acoustic, and the sound quality isn't exactly going to burn the house down. Done with ProTools Free, a JC acoustic with some nice mods, and mixed through a Yamaha four-track. Hopefully everything should work (fingers crossed).

Sorry, made a bit of a booboo in the title there. Of course I meant Space age bachelor pad music, which was popularised by Esquivel. Non-Irish readers may not have had the chance to partake of that Prince of Foods that is Batchelor's Marrowfat Peas. Too bad.

(And no, I don't know what an Irish product is doing at a site called the English Tea Store, but I'm sure they're all fine people, and we forgive them for Cromwell, and all that.)

Knockin' me out with those Appalachian thighs

2004-12-02T10:38:00.000Z

Some live trax by Hayseed Dixie, who played round this way not too long ago. First-rate bluegrass treatments of well-known metal tunes. I can see yer larfing, but fink abaht it... (From the Live Music Archive, via Kingblind.)

Band website: The Hayseed Dixie World Service.

Delia Derbyshire - pioneer of electronic music and (reverent hush) composer of the Dr. Who theme music. (Via the Grauniad wobleg.)

Vinnie Cooper and the Dead Snout Session
Eric Banzai and the Lost Accountants
Cobalt Peace
The Fulcrum Symphony
Sylvester Manlove and the Space Poodle Shrine
Multitude of Jugglers
The Mighty Martini Conflagration

Hours of fun with this random Band Name Generator.

Some scratchings from September

2004-12-02T09:00:00.000Z

(taken from the other place...)

Weddings, Parties, Anything... some thoughts on the legacy London Calling reissue, and a tribute to its producer, Guy Stevens.

Does your iPod lose its flavour on the bedpost overnight? - yes, that cute looking little box with the white headphones can conceal a multitude of sins, crimes against the Taste Police even.

Brian Wilson's SMiLE - not exactly a unique subject to post about, but wtf?

Spirit of Eden by Talk Talk - bit of bumpf about this fine album, and a farewell to the late great Brian Clough.

There are tins, there was pork... - how Third Uncle by Brian Eno ruined my early life.

More Martyn-al Musings

2004-12-01T11:45:00.000Z

One is something of a happy camper. I got to see John Martyn not once, but twice, thanks to a couple of very kind friends who decided to return a favour and surprise me with another ticket for last night. I would have been quite happy with Monday night's performance, but last night was the icing on the cake. The band seemed a little more at ease, and the playing was slinkier. Martyn was in fine fettle as well.

Two great memories: John Martyn gooning around with a towel, fashioning an Arab headdress for himself and, hilariously, making himself look like Santa with hat and beard and addressing a female audience member in that trademark wicked Caledonian burr: "Hello little girrrl; would you like to come sit on Santa's knee? Because he's only got one left..."

At the end of the night two friends and I went out the back of the venue for a cigarette - we live in the West of Ireland, and as of last April you can't smoke in pubs here anymore. The Róisín Dubh backs on to a canal, and it's about a hundred yards walk to the street. John Martyn came out the back with his partner (a lady from Kilkenny) and bade us good night. He was determined to walk all the way back to the van, and his dog was equally determined to stay by his side until he got there.

If only I'd had a camera to capture the moment: John Martyn making his way along the bank of the Eglinton Canal, supporting himself on the railing with one hand and trailing his pooch with the other. What a fantastic memory.

The John Martyn revival starts here @ 50 quid bloke.

Sound engineer Sean McCormack has some photos of John Martyn, Mark Geary and Tom McCrae at his blog, In A Week's Work.