Tuesday 30 March 2010

(Don't) Get ye Hits Out

Just been reading an article about famous bands who are no longer willing to play their most famous hits live in concert, and I have to admit: I totally agree with them

The story in question surrounds a recent performance by MGMT (or GMTV as my missus refers to them as). At one of their recent gigs to promote their new album, the band play the whole of their new album in its entirety much to the annoyance of the crowd who were (allegedly) shouting “kids, kids, kids,” (that’s one of their famous tracks in case you didn’t know) at the end of the show. So, as GMTV come back on to do an encore, what do they do? … That’s right … they play another song off their new album. The result at ‘full time’: endless booing

Now, to be honest here, I do actually like MGMT, but after last week shenanigans, my admiration of them has been taken to a new level as (and here’s my point): Music should be about changing and going forward not about going over the same old boring ground

Take Radiohead for example: they never stood still. I’m not saying their current music is out of this world, but you could say that they got the most out of their guitars (to stunning affect it has to be said) and they just said “fuck it, let’s try something different”.

Now not everyone will agree with me here when it comes to Radiohead’s sudden change of direction after the massively popular Ok Computer and The Bends, but if you think about it, they have been playing music now over a period of two decades because they have kept their brains alive by constantly changing the set. That, for me, is a healthy sign

So, let’s now look at it from a different perspective and look at Nineties Pill-Popping Fun Heads EMF with their (only) hit ‘Unbelievable’. Can anyone else imagine going to see them and not being pleased without them playing this song? I, for one, if of course I was a member of EMF, would find it utterly fucking unbearable to play this song every bleeding night just because their ‘fans’ want to hear it or there will be blood

I feel it would also be a great weight lifted from the shoulders from the likes of The B52’s not playing Love Shack or Dr and the Medics not playing Spirit in the Sky just for one night as well

Now, before you all start banging on about what the fans (who have a paid a lot of money) want, you must also consider the impact playing the same old song over and over again week after week, year after year will have on the band itself. It’s gonna lead to a serious lack of productivity and imagination and that will lead to one thing: shit music!

You wouldn’t want that now would ye?

However, sticking to your guns, I’d take that any day

Mol

Wednesday 24 March 2010

Lights, Camera, Music!

I was reading an article this week about the impact music has had on films and it got me wondering are film soundtracks as important as the actual film itself? I seem to think so. Now I’m not going to blab on about The Sound of Music or Titanic, but proper films!!! Films with great sound tracks

Nowhere better to start than Reservoir Dogs I reckon. I believe it set the precedent for the modern day film sound track when Quentin Tarantino released his debut film in 1992. Since then, some people have always looked at the track listings before watching the actual film before they pass judgment on whether it was worth the admission fee they paid that ended up lining Mr Tarantino’s pockets. Personally I think he’s never let anyone down with his choice of songs. The iconic opening scene in Reservoir Dogs sits firmly in the mind of any music goer as ‘Little Green Bag’ plays as all the guys walk down the street in their black suits!! Brilliant stuff

Another thing Tarantino has done with some of his collections of songs is inadvertently re-launch the careers of certain bands. Take Steelers Wheel (stuck in the middle with you from Reservoir Dogs) and Urge Overkill (Girl, you’ll be a woman soon from Pulp Fiction). Both of these bands are without doubt hugely in debt to Mr Tarantino. If not, they would have been firmly placed in the archives of music history and a career of obscurity

When it comes to some films sound tracks, I actually prefer the productions that have had the complete score written and produced by the one person. Take the Clint Eastwood classics Dirty Harry and Magnum Force for examples. Both films had the music written by the legendary film scorer Lalo Schifrin. I remember years ago when we used to play at The Picket we used to enter the stage to the opening music to Dirty Harry. Lalo Schifrin also wrote the soundtrack to films such as Enter the Dragon, Bullitt and Kelly’s Heroes and television programmes such as Starsky and Hutch and Mission Impossible. Total legend!!

There is one film soundtrack that I absolutely love to death and it’s a small segment of a film from the seventies called The Parallax View starring Warren Beatty. If you get a chance watch the film and listen to the music in the scene when Beatty goes to The Parallax Corporation for ‘processing’ and they play him a film consisting of a series of images. The music is utterly stunning. No idea who wrote it, but it’s superb none the less.

The best of British films sound tracks has to be Guy Ritchie’s black comedy Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. The film itself has such artists as James Brown, The Stone Roses, (Billy) Ocean Colour Scene, The Stooges and the rather superb vocally blessed Pete Wingfield with his high pitched ’18 With A Bullet’. I think Ritchie kind of seen himself as the ‘English Tarantino’, sadly the rather shit ‘Swept Away’ swept away (sorry) any credibility Ritchie had after ‘Lock Stock’ and ‘Snatch’!! Poetic justice really for casting your missus in a film if you ask me! Plus the fact that it was a complete bag of fucking shit also made him lose even more face in the film making department. Divorce soon followed and the rest is history!

But, my all time favourite sound track has to be without doubt Boogie Nights starring Bert Reynolds, Mark Walberg and Julianne Moore. Some absolute classics on there including: Rick Springfield, ELO, The Beach Boys, Marvyn Gaye and The Commodores. Even the utterly shocking songs written by John C Reilly that are performed by Marc Walberg (“Feel The Heat & “The Touch”) as the starring man Dirk Diggler we’re superb comedy value if only for their pure cringe worthy ness!! Superb film as well

But some times it is the music that takes the starring role. Rightly so in this day and age when, sadly, there are not enough decent actors and actresses to go around.

Thank god for music archivists eh?

Mol

Saturday 13 March 2010

Socks N Mugs N Rock N Roll

I was reading an article about Aerosmith Singer Steven Tyler the other day. Apparently the rest of his band are rumoured to be arranging a tour … without him! Madness!!

The reason for the band taking such drastic action is down to the fact that Tyler (a reformed alcoholic and drug addict) has rather spectacularly ‘fell off the wagon’. To add to Tyler’s new found adventurism and waywardness he has also shacked up with a new girlfriend old enough to be one of his pubic hairs!

The above behaviour by Mr Tyler and his new squeeze has provoked outrage amongst the music and mainstream press calling for him to “act his age” and “grow up”. So I have a question: why should these rock stars (and anyone else of an ‘older persuasion’) grow old gracefully?

Another fine example of these older men going through these bouts of mid-life crisis is good old Ronnie Wood from The Rolling Stones. He, like Tyler, has pretty much gone down the same route. But, If Ronnie Wood wants to run off with a nineteen year old Russian cocktail waitress, then good on him. Most people probably think “dirty old pervert” and “what his wife is left to do without him?”(and without access to his credit card no doubt), but the truth is most people are probably thinking about this fit Russian girl bouncing up and down on Wrinkly Ronnie’s Wrinkly Old Chap thinking “lucky bastard”. If you’re not thinking it, you’re plain and simply a liar.

Now don’t get me wrong here, the sight of Mick Jagger, Rod Stewart and Steven Tyler prancing around in a skin tight eye patch covering their Shells is hardly top of the list of most people’s to die for sights in their life, but the point here is this: why not? It’s quite hard to believe here, but some people do actually see it as … wait for it … fun! And people are still prepared to pay big money to see these acts of public exhibitionism (i’m talking about them performing live by the way)

Not everyone has the panache the likes of Wood & Tyler can (if you pardon the expression) pull off though as there are the odd grumpy bastard still getting their rocks off. Take Van ‘The Man’ Morrison for instance. Van quit the bottle a good few years ago, so in order for him to maintain his position on the wagon, he has banned the sale of alcohol at all his concerts! Maybe Van should think about staying home and taking up knitting instead of moaning his way round the circuit propping up the dug up corpse of Georgie Fame at his keyboard! Miserable arld’ git!

But who is to say these men should suddenly start acting like responsible adults and force feed their grand children Werther’s Originals while reading The People’s Friend in between episodes of Countdown? I, for one, am not! After all, it’s a free(ish) country and the age old statement of “if you don’t like it, don’t watch it” certainly applies to anyone from the Mary Whitehouse Brigade who is offended by it. Simples!

One final note to remember is this:

“A rolling stone gathers no moss”

As for grey (platinum) hair – we’ll leave that subject for another day shall we?

Mol

Wednesday 10 March 2010

Election Special - Death of a Titan

I was having a rather drunken and surreal conversation with a good mate of mine last week about my Blog

In between dealing with medical emergencies when another friend decided to do his best impression of The Chef from The Muppets (appropriate word) and cut the end of his fucking finger off with my big fuck off kitchen knife while attempting to cut a pineapple in half and people trying their best to freeze the bollocks off me (“SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR”) as it was Baltic outside, we came up with the idea of doing a Joint-Blog on the rather bizarre topic of what the three main political party leaders might be hiding away in their CD/IPod collection

Original topic i’m sure you’ll agree, so, without further ado, it’s over to our special guest Blogger (live from Westminster, of course) Ben ‘Andrew (Ye) Marr’ Owens for a quick insight into what might make you sway your vote towards The Tories, Lib Dems or Labour in May

The following is a bit long, but i urge you to please read ALL of it as it is utterly superb stuff

Death of a Titan

I was too young to remember the 70’s (unlike the editor of this blog) but I do remember with a sort of infantile disdain the 1980’s being a bit dark and perhaps the darkest, most depressing epoch of the last 30 years. When I think of the 1980’s I remember without any hint of nostalgia Grange Hill demi-perms, Toxteth riots, yuppies, Thatcher and the associated cultural grey cloud that hung poisonously over the North for some years during her reign.

I’ve also watched with macabre fascination, as, over the past few years, there has been an enormous 1980’s revival. It started, like most revivals start, with people sampling the kitsch bits of the decade; day glow leg warmers, 1980’s dedicated bars, Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran reunions and Gene Hunt in his ‘Quattro’. Those of us in our early teens when the 1980s became the 1990s will ourselves will remember other such rose tinted revivals that borrowed only the innocent and fun symbols of previous decades.

Grotesquely coloured MBS tops, people comparing flare widths, excessive pot smoking and The Stone Roses seemed to represent a new ‘Summer of Love’; the clothes represented the music and the music represented the times; a sense of unerring hope. (well for those of us too young to know there was a recession in the early 90’s) Even before that there was a tickling of a 1950s revival; I vaguely remember leather jackets and rolled up jeans being the fashion at the same time as The Stray Cats enjoyed moderate chart success, Elvis Costello’s dad secretly swigged R-Whites and Nick Kershaw sat in his grits sporting his well oiled quiff in the Levis Laundromat advert.

Well what about the mid to late 1990’s? Well if you could see past the majority of production line dance crap that flooded the charts between 1991 and 1993 there was also a hint of the 1970’s. Whilst this wasn’t fully represented in fashion until the volley of Brit-pop (apart from homosexual, ribbed, white T-shirts) it was musically characterised. The Brand New Heavies and the Acid Jazz label were largely responsible for the resurrection of divas, chic, perfectly tuned and produced guitar sounds, increased sales of wah-wah pedals and cocktails in The Conti.

Fortunately, we were saved from this Studio 51 resurgence by two gobby little Mancs (is there any other type?) and a blonde haired American smack-head with a penchant for left handed Fenders and AK-47s. We were only too happy to be assaulted by their distortion, swagger and lager swilling antics after the hiatus in musical grit that Acid Jazz seemed to embody. Their angst driven music permeated and influenced every aspect of our lives: local and national music, clothes, politics, drugs, attitude, literature, arrogance, terrace and street violence, and to some extent urban wit. Looking back now, and possibly even thinking then, it was the vital social enema we needed to remove us from the apathy that seemed to be swelling since the last time there was Punk; the most pertinent and groundbreaking social revolution of since the 1960s…which of course eventually leads on to the 1980s!

And it’s fair to say that we’ve all been caught up in this 1980s revival; only last Friday in the Stanley Arms I found myself extolling the virtues of my new (old) Casio calculator watch to the boys. At the same time, whilst being enclosed by an abundance of Huyton skip rats, we were also surrounded by a plethora of girls, barely in their 20s sporting enormous Muriel Gray decorative head bows, Bonnie Tyler back combed hair, Carol Deckeresque leather jackets, glow less leg warmers, Boy George make up and handbags that wouldn’t look out of place in Margie Clarke’s visit to The State in Frank Clarke’s Letter to Brezhnev.

The thing is, this sustained revival seems a little more menacing than previously thought. There seems no longer to be a borrowing of the innocent or funniest aspects of the 1980s as mentioned earlier. There is a complete immersion in the most distasteful and unattractive aspects of the 1980s and similarly this is reflected in society, and in some cases worse. Unemployment rates are again staggering; drug use, teenage pregnancies, custodial sentences are rising, the Falklands are again under contention, civic-mindedness is hibernating if not dead, aggression is rife, cowardice bullies personal dignity, most people are electively or forcibly mute, the ‘individual’ is the most important person and there is another phenomenal under-representation of an ethnic class; working-class, socially aware, contributors to society.

I find it poignant therefore, that now in the middle of such a drab renaissance there is little regurgitation of the cutting edge and gritty dramas that aired in the 1980s. Had ‘Auntie’ and/or ITV and/or SKY decided upon complementing this resurgence with the thought provoking and brutal ‘Boys from the Blackstuff’, the moving ‘One Summer’ or the murky and prophetic ‘Edge of Darkness’, I could feel there was indeed a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Such programmes shocked and were meant to shock, to raise awareness of our current circumstances and encourage us to emulate the formidable George Malone’s (Boy’s from the Blackstuff) insistence and that we ‘Rage against the dying of the light’.

This reference to George Malone is not accidental. His character and the episode relating to him are fitting indictments not only to what we experience today, but more so to the recent and saddening news, and reason for this title, of Michael Foot’s death.

The parodies are endless and genuine between George Malone and Foot, and I firmly believe that his passing leaves this country intellectually and behaviourally poorer. His politics were honest and hopeful if somewhat, in retrospect, short sighted and imperfect. But it is the humanism Foot employed to inform his politics that had elements of perfection and it is for this reason that for my first musical contribution relating to political leaders, I would out of both respect and new found reverence to Michael Foot like to predict what might be in his posthumous top 10 record collection.

Oxford Comma – Vampire Weekend

Foot was recognised as one of the greatest intellectuals to grace the Labour party. He was an erudite and accomplished speaker and writer. Whilst he came from a well-to-do middle class background, his social and political direction were not swayed despite being an Oxford graduate surrounded by others who were absorbed in the ‘Old School Tie’ myth. As the complete antithesis of anything ‘Oxford’ that the 1930s represented I truly believe his opinion, upon entering and leaving Oxford, would have been epitomised by the opening line of this song, ‘Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma?’

Munich – The Editors

Foot was not scared of a fight. He became most vocal during the early part of his career in 1938 when Neville Chamberlain returned from his Munich Agreement meeting with Hitler to utter his trite phrase of ‘peace in our time’. History has proven that in 1938 Germany did not have the resources to go to war but Chamberlain’s arrogant belief that ‘if [he] coughed Europe would listen’ certainly encouraged History’s biggest lunatic to believe he could rule the world.

Foot had been vehemently opposed to appeasement and felt that Hitler should have been given a good kicking well before 1939 hence the relevance of the line from the above song.

‘People are fragile things,

You should know by now,

Be careful what you put them through.’

Paperback Writer – The Beatles

Most MPs have claimed that Foot was, at heart, not a politician. Most have claimed that had he would have been incapable of leading the Labour Party, had it gained power in 1983. There was however one thing that Foot was always recognised for and it was literary ability. He was the President of the HG Wells society and under the name of ‘Cato’ published a best selling book outlining his disdain over Chamberlain’s appeasement policy. Whilst this song seems like a fairly obvious choice and is about the ‘pulp’ novels of the 1940s to 1960s it’s lyrics do not represent Foot. It’s alleged that the inspiration for the song came from McCartney who claimed, in a radio interview, that he was so inspired that he could write about anything, picking up a paperback saying, ‘I could even write a song about this!’ It’s widely acknowledged that Foot was himself a prolific writer and whilst he might not have felt stirred, or conceited, enough to claim he could write about anything, what he did write was always recognised as moving, relevant but most importantly inspiring.

Suicide is Painless – Johnny Mandel

The idea for the song came from the film MASH in which the military dentist decided to commit suicide rather than face the thought of being gay. His friends during this Korean crisis; Donald Sutherland, Elliot Gould et al provide him with his ‘last supper’ before giving him a sleeping tablet they claimed was a suicide pill. They had every intention of supporting him and seeing him through this. Similarly the Labour Party did with Foot in 1983. Foot’s Labour manifesto was hailed to be the ‘greatest ever suicide note’ and the party recognised it, but like Hawkeye Pierce and Trapper John, the Labour Party wouldn’t let this man go it alone. Their respect and admiration for Foot (who was anti-Korean war conveniently) meant that they would support him wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, this defeat meant Thatcher’s greatest ever election victory. I like to think however that as the votes came in, the Labour Party joined in a subliminal, unified humming of this song and the melody that surrounds, what I believe to be, it’s most relevant phrase.

‘All our little joys relate,

Without that ever present hate,

But now I know that it’s too late’

Doledrum – The La’s

‘I can't see much down for me I think I'll run away to see I'll just get on my coat and shout’

There’s no double-edged sword to this song, the message is quite clear. Michael Foot was made Secretary of State for Employment in 1974 and pioneered some great Trade Union triumphs that would ensure that all workers were to be given equal and equitable working rights. He furthered this by implementing the Health and Safety at Work Act that safeguarded workers from managerial apathy. Whilst Foot made every effort to improve the working conditions and opportunities of all members of society, life was not a bed of employment roses for all to enjoy. There was, as there has always been and probably will be, an employee surplus, but he tried his best to manage this and keep numbers down. Whilst he was the first person to recognise his achievements he also recognised his failings; he recognised that before the pre-Thatcher years there were, on average, four people chasing one job. Fortunately, for the electorate he recognised that after one year of the Iron lady being in power there were, on average thirty-two people chasing one job. Sadly, the Chingford Skinhead, was not able to replicate Foot’s dedication to managing the mass unemployment which was to blight the UK for several years.

Bohemian Like You – The Dandy Warhols

It’s necessary to make reference to the ‘coat’ mentioned in the previous song. The Remembrance Day Memorial at the Cenotaph sees many members of the Royal family, Parliament and Armed Forces attended to pay homage to the dead heroes of previous conflicts. The annual pomp and parade that commemorates dead comrades-in-arms is always a welcoming and comforting sight for those who have lost loved ones. Sadly there has always been an enormous juxtaposition of the memories of the brave individuals who bled to death protecting democracy and the ‘Establishment’ that regularly attend in their finery. Foot recognised this and in 1981 attended the memorial in a ‘Donkey Jacket’. Foot was unable to join the army and fight in the war due to chronic asthma and consequently received no medals for conflict related activity. Instead his attendance, in 1981, in his workers’ garb, symbolised his existing struggle against the ‘Establishment’ and his medal for the recognition and plights of the working classes before, during and after the war. It was for his appearance, defiance and Anti-Establishment uniform that he was from 1981 to the end of his political career known as the ‘Bohemian Eccentric’ and admired by the Queen Mother who complimented him on his stance.

National Front Disco – Morrisey

As mentioned earlier, Foot was notoriously Anti-Europe. But he was also extremely republican. His stance against both Europe and the voting rights of hereditary peers brought him into seemingly close collusion with the particularly right wing politician Enoch Powell. When he allied himself to Powell most people in the party and the public were disgusted and this caused them to question Foot’s agenda. Foot was not racist, not right wing and certainly not one of ‘grinning piccaninnies’ that he was accused of being in Powells inflammatory ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech. Consequently during this commotion Roy Hattersley carefully approached Foot to gain an explanation for this unholy alliance. Foot, in his scholarly and ruthless manner, simply retorted, ‘Do you not realise that the defence of democracy transcends all other considerations?’ It is with this unerring view of the importance of democracy and the lengths he would go to secure it (if somewhat dramatic) that Morrisey’s ironic representation of National Front movements has been chosen. The narrative seems so obvious, like Foot’s allegiance with Powell, but the anti-nationalist message is evident behind – you just need, like Roy Hattersley did, to scratch the surface.

Oliver’s Army – Elvis Costello

The meanings behind this song seem limitless but all ideas recognise a few common themes: pro-republican, anti-empirical and the tendency of young, unemployed men from the inner city areas of the UK in the 1980s to join the Armed Forces due to rising unemployment.

‘We could be in Palestine,

Overrun by the Chinese line,

With the boys from the Mersey, the Thames and the Tyne’

The relevance to Foot is obvious as the themes of the song relate to what seemed to epitomise him and spur him on to be not only an example to follow but also one to emulate. His true belief in unity and equality led him to reject several life peerages and knighthoods from the Royal family. In addition to this, Michael Foot, during the build up to the 1983 general election, is widely recognised to have been the only person who could, and did, hold the Labour Party together like Oliver Cromwell who started and held together the first recorded ‘British Army’.

The Black Cloud of Islam – Roy Harper

It’s easy at the moment to fall foul of the Islamaphobia that seems to be violently permeating the fibre of British democracy so don’t be led astray by the title of this song. The opening lyrics of the song pay homage to Foot’s public support of Salmand Rushdie when a fatwa was placed on his head after the release of ‘The Satanic Verses’. The book was not, like Foot, anti-Islamic, but both recognised the inconsistencies that exist in some organised religious/political practices. The book simply represented democracy and freedom of speech which Foot, throughout all of his life, strived for and the book, like Foot, was not scared of pointing the fingers at those who cherry pick aspects of politics and religion to satisfy their own personal gratification,

‘I’m sick to the teeth of the news on the screen,

Of Hisbullah scum and Jihad the obscene

Whose men plant the bombs and live feeling free,

To watch women and children to be killed on TV.’

Been Smokin’ Too Long – Robin Frederick

In the 1970s it was revealed that Foot had been having an affair with a woman 35 years his junior. The revelation of this came about when a fellow MP recognised that the less than sartorial Foot had started paying attention to his appearance. He battled to save his marriage and reflected both publicly and undoubtedly privately on his misdemeanour. I find it reasonable to assume that he will have also equally reflected on his political career and what may have been. Would his career have been more lucrative had he not had the affair, or allied himself with Powell, or wore that donkey jacket, or publicly lambasted the ‘SDP Four’, or supported Thatcher in the Falklands conflict?

I have every confidence it would have been different. But I feel strangely comforted by the fact that it wasn’t and that whilst he left a somewhat incomplete legacy in British politics it was undeniably stirring for the working classes. The indelible and magnificent inheritance that this deeply thoughtful and colourful individual bequeathed us still has the potential to exist in our country today; a refusal to believe that hope is dead, a belief in common good and true socialism, but most importantly, a belief that although man may personally err, his capacity to fight for social unity and democracy will always survive regardless of how long he has been smoking.

‘Now in these blues I'm singing There's a lesson to be learned Don't go round smokin' Less you want to get burned Tell me, tell me, what have I done wrong? Ain't nothin' goin' right for me Must be I been smoking too long…’

Michael Foot

1919 – 2010

RIP

Thursday 4 March 2010

Greed Is Not Good!!!

I was listening to the news this morning and actually heard some rather good news … Abbey Road Studios are to be made a Listed Building

This is really good news as it means it will restore an important part of British Music Heritage and will stave off any unscrupulous property developers who wish to exploit the fact that the Beatles recorded there (no doubt some American consortium would have came in waving their bank loan around offering to buy it – sounds familiar doesn’t it?)

But this story genuinely brings a warm glow to my good soul as it’s one in the eye for the rich people of this world who think they can buy anything. Sadly, for them, you can’t buy history (with the exemption of certain Hollywood producers of course)

Anyone who reads this Blog from Liverpool will remember the same fate that was met by The Flying Picket in town as it was sold off to greedy property developers to build luxury flats (which no one moved into).

At the time it was pretty hard to believe that the Picket was closing as it was known the length and breadth of Britain as being one of it’s best underground venues starting off the careers of brilliant Liverpool-based bands the likes of The La’s, The Coral, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Real People and countless others (including myself and the other chaps. Ahem!)

But when we get down to the real nitty gritty of a city’s essential needs, the people ‘at the top’ need to ask themselves a really hard question: does your city need another set of luxury flats (which no fucker can afford anymore) to brighten and broaden your skyline or do your people need a venue that will make music, culture and a sense of community thrive?

I’ll go for the latter if you don’t mind

Mol