glastonbury 2011 unreleased extract

second extract of four not in the "Turn Left at the Womble" book as it relates to 2011-wonder what I'll be writing about after june this year...

Sunday.

Well, this was a different kind of day.

No work at all so in some ways it felt as if it was just starting again.

Again got up dead early-7 am therefore only 2 hours kip but applying the I’m knackered anyway principle decided to tough it out and make the most of the day.

As I got up there wasn’t a cloud in the sky -not a one. Although the forecast was going to be good one of the security blokes told me that the BBC were saying it was going to be incredibly hot-27-30 degrees! And the mud would all be dried up by mid afternoon-happy days.

After a massive full English breakfast to start the day right the plan was to make every second count. So, with wellies on (still sceptical about the mud),bag packed for the day with suitable bananas, loads of bottles of water, fold -up chair over my shoulder (rock and roll hey!) and the brolly (to act as sunshade) off I headed for a day of relaxation and merriment.

Whilst I had checked the guide the only artist I wanted to see for sure was Paul Simon mid afternoon –thought it might be a good sing-along thing. Wasn’t sure which headliner I would go to to finish the whole thing off-it was a toss up between Beyonce, Queens of the Stone Age, Gruff Rhys, The Streets  or Kool & the Gang.

To cut a long story short I just spent most of the day wholly chilled out just wandering around enjoying the whole thing. Got the Observer and spent a good hour of so at dinnertime leafing through it with a fantastic pizza, massive cappuccino, huge home made raspberry muffin-in the sun. Wellies and socks off-feet up watching the Noisettes at the Other Stage in virtually the same spot we were at last year. Rang Amy “you’ll never guess where I am etc?” Maybe it was because I was so relaxed but tired but it was the only time I was homesick all weekend-just wished I could’ve shared that moment with her. Still it was a beautiful day and after polishing off all the grub sauntered off to see Paul Simon.

Who, quite frankly was a disappointment. Myself and everyone around me watching the main stage expected him to do hit after hit (which is what he said he was going to do) but in an hours set he did about 5 tracks off his new album which nobody really knew or was arsed about. The tone of it was set by the fact that after the first song he mumbled something about, "I’ve got a sore throat so excuse me if it not up to what you expected etc” . The bloke standing next to me said in a gruff northern accent, “We’ve been up to our necks in a muddy field for the past four days pal so stop your bloody moaning”, sentiments which I wholeheartedly agreed with. It would have taken more than Mr Simon to piss me off though and anyway he soon shuffled off. Plan B followed him & was much better than expected. By the time they finished it was 8.00 ish so just time to nip back to the mess tent for evening meal and to catch up on things.

Back out for 9.30 and I had decided to see Beyonce though was prepared to make a dash for something else if she was rubbish. There is not much to say about her show except that it was absolutely flipping fantastic. I was blown away! Whilst this is far from my cup of Earl Grey but from the get go it was hit after hit-the atmosphere was fantastic and she had everyone in the palm of her hand-young & old, men & women. There were just big grins all around and especially from the blokes (who like myself I guess had not expected much).In the end everyone was bopping away-the whole field in front of the Pyramid was rammed-maybe 80,000 people or so. What a way to finish the whole thing!

Finally back at 2 ish after Beyonce and a few drinks. Fast asleep by 3.

And that was it.

Will I go back again? Can’t wait till 2013.

Would I work it again? Probably not but if I couldn’t get a ticket I would not miss it for the world.

The mud? Oh I’ve done a muddy Glasto & lived to tell the tale-this will be a story that can live on for generations-ie  “ Grandad, tell us the tale of the big muddy field.”

the year is starting off well..

Two great new singles here today; a return to form for Prince and another consistently great cut from the forthcoming Flaming Lips album.

New book is finished in draft and (just!) needs editing before it's published as another Kindle book on Amazon . There's pre-published unedited excerpts from it here on this blog to give a flavour of what it's going to be like as well as bits from the already published and selling-like-hot-cakes(?) "Turn Left at The Womble"; which has a fair bit about The Flaming Lips in it but nothing about Prince.

Anyway here are the Prince and Flips (click on the link and go to link for the flips btw); 

UPDATE:  wef 31 jan prince video is down.sorry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wR0kjG-uab4&feature=player_embedded

sigur ros

it's just the sort of weather to be listening to sigur ros today

Turn Left At The Womble-My Glastonbury book -A Thank You

For anyone that's bought or read my book "Turn Left at the Womble" from Amazon, many, many thanks. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did (or even if you didn't!) I'd really appreciate it if you'd consider giving it a review on Amazon-even if it is no stars I really don't mind-any review would be good. Thanks.

There's a link to it here
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Turn-Left-The-Womble-ebook/dp/B0060YCKGW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1354357781&sr=8-1

june 6th extract.. and the closure of record shops

I wouldn't normally post anything from the new book that's directly related to the news but I've just heard that One Up Records in Aberdeen is closing the same week that HMV has gone. I'm not arsed about HMV but One Up going is really bad news. Anyway here's the extract from "Totally Shuffled..." 

Day 158

June 6th

Foetus Interruptus-Thaw

Record shops are increasingly becoming a thing of the past. Sadly. They’ll become stuff of legend and myth within the next couple of decades. I’ll be sitting my grandchildren on my knee and telling them tales of hours spent browsing for strange fat, round 12” artefacts just in order to listen to music. They’ll listen wide-eyed and incredulously about the hours wasted in vain attempts to get hold of “rare” songs imported across the ocean from America in numbers of less than the fingers of one hand. They’ll be staggered at the exorbitant prices that used to be paid for just one record and that generally music was so difficult to obtain. Maybe they’ll see recorded music as a bit odd in itself.(Recorded music ,after all, is  just a blip that’s only been around for a 100 years or so. By the end of the 21^st century it may be looked upon as a technological and cultural dead-end. Like a harpsichord.) 

(Let me tell you a story.)

Anyway, I’ve spent many, many happy hours in record shops up and down the U.K. (And many costly hours as well.)  I can’t actually remember the last time that I spent any significant period browsing but I have a feeling that those days are gone forever. I’ll start from the North and work my way down South in respect of the most memorable record shops that played such a large part in my life.

1.One Up Records, Aberdeen.

This would have been in the early 1980’s when I worked for a while in the Granite City. There was a Virgin store in Aberdeen which was ok but One Up was a small indie store just off Union Street in the city centre. It was slightly similar to Probe Records in Liverpool (more of that soon) but staffed by dour-as-fuck Scots and therefore a much jollier retail experience than Probe. One Up was, I think, next door to a café-which was useful. It must have previously operated as a different sort of shop as all the wall were at weird angles which wasn’t conducive for housing racks of vinyl records. Having said that, they had a great selection of really indie stuff-lots of records from the USA and post punk singles from around the world. If you’d heard, say a 7” single played on Peel’s show by an unpronounceable Polish hardcore band on a Wednesday night, the One Up would have it ( or know of it and be able to get it for you) via some circuitous route from Gdansk across the North Sea by the following week. There were plenty of singles I got from there purely on the basis that they seemed obscure and therefore hoped they would be the next-big-thing.(Never worked out like that). Two other facts; their record bags were cool and if you hung around long enough they’d always make you a cup of tea.)

2 .Probe Records, Liverpool.

I’ve already gone on at length about Probe so I won’t reiterate things too much. However, it was a little wonderful trove of records in Mathew Street, Liverpool and staffed by the most fucking miserable condescending bunch of know-alls in the whole retail sector. There is an apocryphal story (which rings so true) about a hapless punter who wandered in off the street one day and asked in all innocence, “Do you have Phil Collins’ new album?” “Yes”, came the reply. “Can I have it please then?” “Er, no.”  That just about sums it up.

But, for their selection of records, it couldn’t be beaten and that’s why I spent many hours in their browsing away and many pounds that I couldn’t really spare crossed the counter into their coffers. (Unlike in Aberdeen, you’d never get a brew from them.)

3. Penny Lane Records, Liverpool.

Although they must have had a shop in the actual Penny Lane this one was in the city centre. It’s now an opticians I think. Penny Lane was up a flight of stairs on the first floor above, an opticians. Maybe bad sight has increased at the same rate as record shops have declined. Penny Lane was a bit like Probe (indie shop but not so much indie (music)) but it did have a really good selection of reggae albums including loads of dub and what seemed to be the whole ECM catalogue on vinyl. When New Order played the State Ballroom in Liverpool, the only place you could get tickets from was Penny Lane. The shop suddenly closed down-it must have gone bust- one day it was there and the next it was gone. I wonder what happened to all those unsold ECM records.

4. Virgin Records, Oxford Street, London

Not the megastore Virgin but a strange little Virgin store that co-existed at the same time as the megastore was growing. It was halfway down Oxford Street in a sort of arcade of shops and must have been forgotten about by Branson as it seemed to be a bit of throwback. It only appeared to have in stock weird rock albums from Germany and Japan and obscure old hippy albums though there was a section of industrial oddness which is where I got hold of the first Foetus album, “Deaf” (which is now worth a fortune and which I sold for buttons ages ago. Grr.) I could never have imagined of being able to go into any of the Virgin megastores and being able to buy a Foetus record.

I wonder what they were thinking of.


Totally Shuffled:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00CJYZ3CA

august 3rd extract-the gang of four

Gang Of Four- At Home He’s A Tourist

I’ve only ever owned one Gang of Four record, their first E.P. on Fast Records that had the tracks “Damaged Goods”, “Love Like Anthrax” and “Armalite Rifle”. I toyed for a long time with the idea of buying their first album. On more than one occasion I got as far as taking it from the racks in the record shop and walking up to the till but every time I thought better of it. On one occasion, when I had a spare tenner in my pocket, I had “Entertainment!” (the said Gang of Four album)in one hand and Madonna’s “True Blue” in the other as I approached the counter. What a dilemma and what a cultural divide. Needless to say- because I’ve just mentioned that I’ve only ever had the one Gang of Four record- that La Ciccone won out over the battle of the albums with the agit-poppers. One of my better decisions in retrospect.       

All throughout this year-more than once anyway-I think that I may have mentioned that my listening habits during the 1980’s comprised largely in part of the likes of The Fall, Scritti Politti and the Gang of Four. Actually, I should have said that it was bands like the Gang of Four as I only had heard the three tracks of the E.P. and a handful of others recorded off the radio and “At Home He’s A Tourist” was one of them. (I’ve only being using the Gang of Four throughout this year as a sort of metaphor for the type of post-punk music I was listening to).

Why had I struggled so much with buying the Gang of Four album? Why did Madonna win out in the end? It was quite simple really. The Gang of Four were known for their decidedly political stance, a highly developed and well-thought out post-structuralist Marxist critique of capitalist consumerism blah blah blah. They weren’t afraid of sticking it to “the man” and questioning all and every structure of power and authority. They positively relished challenging accepted social constructs and were an all male band well noted for their strident feminist stance. Now all of what they stood up for I agreed with and I still strongly believe in but you can see where this is heading.

They (and this isn’t intended as a pun) pulled out of appearing on TOTP with the “At Home..” single because the BBC didn’t want them to sing the word “rubbers” i.e condoms, as on the released version of the song. They weren’t prepared to compromise their art in the face of the pressure exerted by them  for a programme that was broadcast on BBC1 at 7.30  p.m.on a Thursday night-Noel Edmonds, bad jumpers and the axis of evil. This was all very understandable and commendable in a Crass-stick-to-your-principles sort of way. 

Which is why it all was just a little bit surprising that considering when they signed for a major label straight after their first and only indie release they plumped for EMI.  EMI, well known for their high ethical stance on everything under the sun, seemed the perfect fit for these chaps from Leeds. Without knowing too much about EMI, it was well known at the time that they were in part heavily into the manufacture of armaments and missle guided systems. It made the release of the anti-militaristic single by the boys, “I Love a Man In a Uniform” a tad ironic.

However good the music may have been within the “Entertainment!” album, at least I always knew where I stood with Madonna.     

december 30th extract

The Birthday Party- Big Jesus Trash Can

I was quite prepared when this track just came up this morning to spend 500 words and a bit of time slating The Birthday Party. I listened to it while brewing a pot of coffee, having a smoke and mulling it all over. I could follow a route of seeing the Birthday Party as responsible (in part) for the emergence of goth; all that Old Testament imagery, wailing and gnashing of teeth, big back-combed matted hair, tales of depravation, disgust, murder; black clothes and black imagery. On the other hand I could look at the intrinsic dark humour of The Birthday Party; how the fact that it is so very much over-the-top; that it’s really impossible to take it all with any level of seriousness that it’s actually a comedy record (not in a Barron Knights-style but you know what I mean)-it’s so self-consciously dark and bleak that it’s as if they thought so hard to make it grim and then added (trowled and heaped) another layer and more on top because it wasn’t at that level of grimness that they wanted. It’s basically so much darkness that you can’t help but laugh at the sheer, unremitting and relentless nature of it all. 

I was also thinking about how my British mis-conceptions of Australia have them down as a lager-drinking, sports-loving nation of people and how that seems at odds with the personae of The Birthday Party. Did they break off recording this album at any time for a can of Fosters and to sit down to watch some Aussie Rules? Did their tour schedules have five day breaks so they could make sure they’d see the Ashes? (It would be quite a good image to see Nick Cave and the lads wandering around Sydney Cricket Ground, looking suitably dishevelled.) I’ll bet they’re not openly into sports but that a little bit of them cheers inside if England loses the Ashes. I suppose that my mis-conceptions of Australia could in some ironic way, mirror their views of U.S. as Australians in their mid-twenties when this album was recorded. All Southern Gothic-ness. There certainly doesn’t seem to me anything specifically Autralian about The Birthday Party and if I didn’t know that they were from the other side of the world I’m sure I would think that they were from America (or, bearing in mind their goth-ness, Leeds or Bradford.)