Plain Or Pan?
Stoned Out Of My Mind
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Funk brothers separated at birth? Or just Ike Turner being a cheeky liberator of one of Sly Stone’s grooviest riffs? Sly’s Sing a Simple Song came out in 1969 on the Stand! album. One year later Ike & Tina Turner released The Hunter, a downright gutteral blues/soul/ r’n’ b stomper of a record. The cover of the album sets the tone – Ike is wearing his best Beatles wig and Tina is dressed as some sort of Amazonian warrior princess. It’s even better between the grooves – it wails, moans, bleeds and sounds like something the cat dragged in. You really should take the time to find it at. You’ll like it. There’s a smokin’ version of Baby, What Do You Want Me To Do (made famous by Elvis in the ‘68 Comeback Special) There’s an aching, bluesy version of You Don’t Love Me (later made famous in a reggae style by Dawn Penn) And there’s this – Bold Soul Sister. Clearly based on Sly Stone’s Sing a Simple Song or blatant steal? You decide here.
Ike encourages Tina to sing the right notes
To be clear – this isn’t the big haired, private-dancing-like-she’s-peed-herself Tina Turner of 80s fame. Oh no. This is the down-trodden, beaten-up wife of Ike; misogynistic rock n roller, racketeer and writer of Rocket 88 (generally considered to the very first rock n roll record) In the studio at least, Ike brought out the best in Tina. Her work from the 60s is as exciting as anything by Aretha, The Supremes or Carla Thomas. Why she’s never mentioned up there with the greats is a bit of a mystery to me. I love her output from this era. Listen to Finger Poppin’ - a brass-driven mod stomper of a record. Now tell me Tina Turner is rubbish.
Tina clearly knew her place in the marital home.
Another wayward trigger-happy drug-crazy hero of mine is Sly Stone. There was a time in the early 90s when I couldn’t get enough of his music. Sly for breakfast. Sly compilation on the Walkman for the walk to work. Sly while cooking. Sly before bed. I was Sly Stoned out of my tiny little white boy mind. Where had this music been all my life? I love the stories, true or not, about how, when making the There’s a Riot Goin’ On album he’d take all his female hangers-on and companions back to the studio and allow them to sing backing vocals on the record in return for carnal delights. Of course, Sly would erase the vocals as soon as he’d had his way. Well, it was 1971. As female after female passed from recording booth to bedroom to door, the erased tapes became so saturated that the final mastered version sounds weak, thin and weedy compared to the full-fat funk productions the Family Stone had released in the past. And that’s the reason they’ll ever be able to come up with one of those Remastered Deluxe Editions for There’s a Riot Goin’ On. But you probably knew that already.
Class
Sing a Simple Song is a fantastic single. It starts with that cheesegrater-thin guitar riff, the Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! piercing female vocal (Sly’s sister I think) comes in and the whole thing takes off somewhere far above the clouds. The Family Stone lock into the one chord funk riff and male and female voices call and respond across the top of the whole thing. (I particularly like the bassy Do-Ray-Mi-Fa-So-La-Te-Do bit.) By this point poor wee Ike Turner has flames coming off his pencil as he frantically tries to write notes on the whole thing. As you know by now, he kept the one chord funk part and turned it into Bold Soul Sister. Talent borrow genius steals and all that.
Here’s a bonus Sly Stone track. Sex Machine (nothing like James Brown’s) is another one chord groovathon, wah-wah’d to within an inch of one hell of a groovy death. At just under 14 minutes long it’s no quick fix. Just the right length for…….well, it’s not called that for nothing. Of course, white men can do it at least twice in the time it takes the song to finish. But you knew that already.
Double Bonus! Listen to this – Booker T’s hammond-heavy version of Sing A Simple Song. Steve Cropper’s guitar riff sounds fantastic!
What’s love got to do with it, eh?
Free Us From Nancy Spungen-Fixated Heroin A-Holes Who Cling To Our Greatest Groups and Suck Out Their Brains
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Halloween’s Coming, Halloween’s Coming. Skeletons will be after you. No they won’t, but at least it gives me a half-arsed excuse to post some Nirvana on here for the first time.
I like Nirvana a lot. I’ve been going through something of a reunion with them every day in the car to work this week. They blow the cobwebs off before a hard day at the coal face, that’s for sure. Nevermind still sounds freakin’ A or awesome or whatever superlative those college frat boys would use to describe it back in the day. That the band became globally massive because of it (and ultimately why Kurt Cobain chose to blow his stupid brains out a few years later) is not up for debate. In 1991, music lovers needed something new and, unless you were Luke Haines (see Wikipedia, buy his book) Nevermind arrived at just the right moment in time. In my own wee part of the world Joe Bloggs flares had become recognised as the joke they always were. Morrissey quiffs that had already been outgrown into crappy bowl cuts (mine included) were looking for another new hairstyle to approximate. Reni hats had been put to the back of the drawer and wouldn’t see the light of day until the wattery fart that was The Second Coming. I’m sure your own wee part of the world was no different. Nirvana’s Nevermind blew all that away. And how. But you knew that already.
I worked in Our Price when Nevermind came out. I had been there for 2 weeks. The album sold out the first day (the Our Price buying team at Head Office were notoriously frugal with first day orders – we probably had 5 copies to sell). The distributors couldn’t keep up with demand and it was a full week later before we had any more copies in stock. Round about this time, Nirvana played Glasgow University’s QM Union. An old throwback to the 70s rep visiting the store put the store manager plus 3 on the guest list for the gig. Magic. Except that the store manager didn’t want to go. “Heavy metal shite” was what he said. Seeing as he was the only driver, the fact that it would be a late show and that none of us knew anyone with a floor to go back to in the wee small hours, none of us went. I’m still pissed off about it to this day. Aye, Hollins. I’m talking about you.
Anyway…..On 31st october 1991, Halloween night itself, Nirvana found themselves playing to a hometown crowd at Seattle’s Paramount Theater. Nevermind was only about 2 months old by this point. Nirvana had just returned from a triumphant British tour (Grrr) and the band were far from the jaded, cynical version that would tour subsequent albums. Their set was captured by the sound desk in all its ragged punk glory. It was such a good set (see below) and recording that it was once mooted as an official live Nirvana release. The version of School from the show made its way onto the b-side of the Come As You Are single. If you have that at home, you’ll know how pristine, exciting and definitive a recording this is, but the rest of the tracks remained in the vaults until some enterprising bootleger liberated it and put it on the internet.
Jesus Doesn’t Want Me For A Sunbeam
Aneurysm
Drain You
School
Floyd The Barber
Smells Like Teen Spirit
About A Girl
Polly
Breed
Sliver
Love Buzz
Lithium
Been A Son
Negative Creep
On A Plain
Blew
Rape Me
Territorial Pissings
Endless, Nameless
Try before you buy – here’s mp3s of Smells Like Teen Spirit and About A Girl. Good, eh? Now get the whole shebang here.
*BONUS TRACK!
A band who’s quiffs defiantly stand proud to this day - Glasvegas do Come As You Are. Downbeat, slow and wee Glasgow ned-like in delivery, it’s something approaching aural methadone (I imagine). S’good! Here ye go.
POST SCRIPT
After Kurt Cobain killed himself, Julian Cope took out full page ads in the UK music press denouncing Courtney Love. The ads were brilliant. I’ve searched in all the darkest corners of the internet, but I can’t find a picture of any of them. I’m sure Cope wrote a whole big long rant, but I can’t find anything other than the quote I used to title this piece:
‘Free Us From Nancy Spungen-Fixated Heroin A-Holes Who Cling To Our Greatest Groups and Suck Out Their Brains.’
But, yeah, you knew that already.
Requests, Repeats and a Rockin’ Ringo Starr
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I’d been meaning to re-post this excellent Beatles show a couple of weeks ago when the world was going Beatles mad and I re-posted the best of the Beatles posts I’d done, but somehow I forgot to upload it at the time and I thought, “Ach, I’ll do it later…” Spurred on by a request from reader FC3 (as well as other requests in the past) I’m re-posting it here, right now, today. The original files were deleted by persons unknown during the great DMCA clampdown of November 08. Don’t be surprised if the new files are also removed by the internet police. Act fast! What follows is the original post from November 2007 along with newly updated download links and an MP3 sample.
“WE LOVE DISTORTION!”
So sayeth John Lennon. I can’t believe I haven’t posted anything Beatles-related at all until now. This post more than makes up for it. The music contained herein is cracking. What makes it all the more amazing is that this recording is of a radio show and is over 40 years old. It’s amazing to think these recordings exist, let alone in good quality. God knows who originally recorded it, or how they recorded it, but somehow they did, and thanks to the wonders of the internet, it’s all here. First though, the history part.
In 1963, as a live phenomenon, The Beatles were at the top of their game. Their years of playing extended sets in Hamburg had taught them how to handle a crowd. Their own fantastic songwriting talent was emerging and many of these songs were yet to be committed to vinyl. In a couple of years time they would be a spent force on the live stage. Limitations in their equipment couldn’t match the increasingly bigger venues the band were playing. This show was recorded for Swedish Radio at Karplan Studios in Stockholm on October 24th 1963. It captures the Beatles playing their early 60s set, drawing on a mixture of originals and covers. From Paul’s “2, 3, 4″ count-in onwards, this set sounds like proto-punk. The playing is spot-on. The vocal harmonies are tight and Ringo’s backeat holds it all together. There’s a John one (From Me To You), a Paul one (I Saw Her Standing There), a George one (Roll Over Beethoven), a fast one (Money), a slow one (You Really Got A Hold On Me) and all the big hits (She Loves You, Twist & Shout). And it’s all in crystal clear high fidelity mp3 (!)
Hans Westman was the studio engineer for Swedish radio. “The worst recordings I’ve ever made,” he said. “Totally chaotic. No time for rehearsals.” The studio wasn’t best equipped for recording a ‘beat group’ and there were problems overcoming the UK plugs on the Vox amps. But once sorted, The Beatles simply plugged in and played. Westman couldn’t apologise enough for his poor sound, but Lennon loved this recording. “We love distortion!“ Not long before he died in1980 he said that these were the best live recordings The Beatles ever made. And who can argue?
1. Introduction
2. I Saw Her Standing There
3. From Me To You
4. Money
5. Roll Over Beethoven
6. You Really Got A Hold On Me
7. She Loves You
8. Twist And Shout
You need this. It’s brilliant. Try before you buy? Here’s an mp3 of Twist & Shout. The entire show is available here as a rar file., from me to you (arf).
(Above) back cover art (right-click and save)
(Below)Hans Westman’s original tape reel, signed by the fab four.
From The Sublime To The Ridiculous – a Mr Tambourine Man Quadruple (+1) Whammy
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I grew up thinking Mr Tambourine Man was a Byrds song. When I heard Dylan’s original (I was about 15) I was underwhelmed, to say the least. Where were the chiming electric guitars? Why had those sun-kissed West Coast vocals been replaced by that cold East Coast nasal twang? And why was it 5 times longer and therefore more boring than the original version? Older and wiser, I can now concede to the greatness of Bob’s real original, but I still have a soft spot for Roger McGuinn’s pop arrangement.
Listen to this, an isolated vocal track from the Mr Tambourine Man sessions. Taken from a Byrds bootleg called Past Masters 65, it sounds fantastic. In fact, you might wet your pants over it. Don’t worry, I’ve just had to put my George by Asda Calvinalikes in the tub. That’s the second pair this hour. It’s this pop arrangement that’s formed the basis of the numerous cover versions that followed in it’s wake. But you knew that already.
Way back when there were record shops and people went in them to buy records and stuff with real money, Teenage Fanclub, Scotland’s only true National Treasure, did a version of MTM for the NME compilation album Ruby Trax. I might’ve posted this before, so sorry if I’m repeating myself. Gerry takes the lead, Norman follows up on backing vocals and the whole thing is a faithful interpretation of The Byrds ‘original’. Hear it here.
If you go down to the woods today…
South American newcomers Soho Riots have recently released a fuzzed-up lo-fi garage band approximation of MTM. It wouldn’t sound out of place on an old late 80s compilation tape somewhere between a Sarah Records act and an early My Bloody Valentine b-side. As an extra act of cheesiness/literal genius, they’ve even added a jangling tambourine throughout the entire track. Listen out too for the woman who canane sing. Hear it here.
Phasers set to stun. William Shat’nit etc etc
But I’ve. Kept. The Best till. Last. The most. Frightening. Ridiculous and. Heart stopping. Version of Mr Tambourine. Man. Is without. A. Doubt. William Shatner’s. 1968 spoken. Word. Version on his. Transfomed. Man. Album. The words. Tortured artist do. Not. Do this version. Justice.
Thankfully, Shatner stopped short of giving Visions Of Johanna the same treatment.
*BONUS TRACK!
Dylan’s (allegedly) first recorded version, featuring Ramblin’ Jack Elliot on occassional backing vocals. It was this version that was seemingly sent to The Byrds for them to record. Recorded in June 64 for the Another Side of Bob Dylan album it lay in the vaults until 2005 when it appeared on the Bootleg Series Volume 7. But you knew that already. You probably own it already too.
I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind Of Thing…
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…said Neil Tennant a few years back. I don’t normally post new stuff very often (if at all – I can’t actually think of any track that’s made it onto this site that’s been less than a year old*) but I’m making a couple of exceptions tonight.
I feel the need to share two hot-off-the-press brand new tracks that have been tickling my fancy the past couple of days. First up, the Flaming Lips. The mid-west psychedelic pioneers have an album out on 13th October and this track has been promoed to radio. Silver Trembling Hands sounds as good as it sounds. Wonky, weird and wonderful. And the best use of computerised falsetto since Prince was last any good.
![Feeling_Pulled_Apart_by_Horses_-_The_Hollow_Earth[1]](http://philspector.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/feeling_pulled_apart_by_horses_-_the_hollow_earth1.jpg?w=300&h=300 "Feeling_Pulled_Apart_by_Horses_-_The_Hollow_Earth[1]")
Next, old twitchy eye himself Thom Yorke. He’s just put out Feeling Pulled Apart By Horses and it too sounds as good as it sounds. Out on 12″ only, you can buy it via Radiohead’s W.A.S.T.E. website. Or (wink wink) you can get it here. A quick word before we talk about the music. See that sleeve? If you squint, I swear it looks like the cover to Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures. If Carlsberg did remixes of album covers…
In Rainbow’s Reckoner was apparently constructed from the best bits of the track. The cynical Radiohead-hating numbskulls among you might be thinking that there are no best bits on a low-key Thom Yorke release, but that’s where you’d be wrong. It sounds exactly the same as the cut ‘n paste nerdy laptop techno that has watermarked most of Radiohead’s releases this decade. It bangs and crashes in all the right places, Thom spits cryptical nonsense over the top (“insect bites, machine gun cameras“) and the bassline is funkier than Bootsy Collins’ platform boots. If its verse/chorus/verse/chorus/bridge/chorus/end you’re looking for, you’ll not find it here. If it’s brainiac ambient soundscapes that penetrate your brain while you spreadsheet, jog or wash the dishes, step right in….
Bonus track!
Wouldn’t it be great if the Flaming Lips covered Radiohead? Oh look – they already have! Here’s their version of Knives Out. Warning - all trace of the original’s quasi Queen Is Dead-era chiming electric guitar has vanished and been replaced instead with a Flaming Lip who hammers away at a piano with all the finesse of a one-armed arthritic Neil Young on jellies. S’good!
*oh aye. I did put an MGMT track up once. Before it had even been released. On. The. Ball.
Wild Wild Horses
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Well. There goes another of my favourite tracks that I can never listen to again in the same way. Hot on the heels of one reality TV star’s murdering of ‘Hallelujah‘ comes the news that oor ain wee Susan Boyle, SuBo to the rest of the world, will be releasing her own version of The Rolling Stones‘ ‘Wild Horses’. It’s leaked online and it’s eh, no’ as bad as you might think. Aye! A sweeping-stringed, soulful and passionate, inner-demon bearing affair, on first listen it actually brought a tear to my eye.
Who am I kidding? It’s shite. Aye, it brings a tear to my eye, but for all the wrong reasons. But you knew that already. The original version of Wild Horses is a stone cold rolled gold classic. It’s always been my favourite Stones track, from the Nashville ‘n’ open G tuning twin guitar arrangement via the fragile melody right through to Jagger’s incredibly adult lyrics. Whilst hardly a teenager, it’s hard to believe he was only 26 when he penned it. 26! Sure, in rock n roll terms thats practically pensionable, but given that yer Stones are still a going concern (albeit a limping and wheezing pastiche of their former self) for Mick to have written such a serious, grown up lyric like that the age of 26 amazes me. The Stones will always be known for the down and dirty rock n roll stuff, but songs like this are often by-passed in favour of blustery rammalamma like Satisfaction and Street Fighting Man and (insert yer own Stones title here) I don’t think even Paul McCartney was writing songs as mature as this at the age of 26, and he was always 20 going on 40 at the height of Beatlemania. There’s certainly no way any of today’s young turks could go balls out rock one minute then pen as tender a lyric in the next. Certainly not The Cribs. Or Biffy fucking Clyro. I’m as fond of a Gabba Gabba Hey as much as the bext man, but I wish I’d have been able to write a Wild Horses in my mid 20s.
Yer actual Mick n Keef, 1969 Muscle Shoals Sessions
In 1969, Keith Richards wrote the music and the “wild horses couldn’t drag me away” lyric as a lament to his young son Marlon who he frequently had to leave as he embarked on tour after tour. Jagger re-interpreted the lyric as a paeon to lost love. Marianne Faithful later claimed the first words Jagger said to her after an operdose were “wild horses couldn’t drag me away“. So. Lots of interpretations. You can make of it what you will. What is fact is that regular Stones keyboardist Ian Stewart didn’t actually play on the Stones version. He refused to play on the session because he hated playing minor chords on the piano! Numpty. Famous sessioneer Jim Dickinson (Aretha, Big Star, Rod Stewart to name but a few) played on the track instead.
What is also fact is that Keith gave the track to Gram Parsons and the first commercially available version of Wild Horses was by the Flying Burrito Brothers. Since then, there’s been a zillion different cover versions. Here’s a few of the better, more interesting ones.
The Sundays Wild Horses (superb soul baring bedroom indie version)
LaBelle Wild Horses (smooth discosoultastic version from 1971)
Leon Russell Wild Horses (former Spector sessioneer’s southern fried piano-led version)
*Bonus tracks
Rolling Stones Wild Horses acoustic version. Taken from the Muscle Shoals ‘Sticky Fingers’ sessions bootleg.
Rolling Stones Wild Horses alternate version. Reverb-heavy outtake featured by mistake on some Dutch Rolling Stones compilation album before bveing hastily withdrawn. This version sounds wonky – the tape is running at the wrong speed for half of it.
Brass In Pocket double whammy
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With a mountain of ironing to do and house-husband status unwillingly thrust upon me, I’ve been watching a lot of crap telly recently, all the while putting more creases into my shirts than what were there to begin with. The thought of another David Dickinson repeat was an orange glowed step too far yesterday afternoon, so I found myself watching Lost In Translation for the umpteenth time. There’s a bit in it where Scarlett Johansson sings a wee bit of Brass In Pocket to Bill Murray and this had me thinking back to the days when buying a 7″ single was a big deal. I remember standing for ages in John Menzies deciding between Brass In Pocket and The Police’s Walking On The Moon, not quite with brass in pocket, but with a pound note burning a hole in my 11 year old hands. The Pretenders won out because Brass In Pocket was a newer single and my purchase helped take it all the way to the toppermost of the poppermost for 2 weeks.
Brass in Pocket would be The Pretenders only number 1 single. In true artist fashion, Chrissie Hynde didnae like it. “Listen to that woman’s voice,” she told NME. ”I hate it.” You can decide for yourself - here’s the demo version. A bit slower than you’ll be familiar with, but nonetheless not a million miles away from the polished Telecaster-and-chorus pedal sheen of the smash hit.
As a young vinyl freak, I often wondered what Chrissie Hynde meant when she sang about ’Detroit Leaning’. Thanks to the wonders of the internet I have discovered that the Detroit Lean is a style of driving where the slouched driver has one hand on the wheel and the other hand over the window sill and onto the door. Being America, the right hand would be steering and the left arm would be leaning. The driver may also use the left hand to tap the bodywork gently in time to whatever music happens to be coming over the FM airwaves. Think Snoop Dogg in his pimp mobile, although I’m sure you were thinking that already. If you’ve ever watched the wee boys race their souped up Corsas and Clios up and down Ayr shore front you’ll know what I mean. Although they listen to shitty, bass-heavy happy hardcore CDs. And drive Corsas and Clios. Although I’m sure you were thinking that already too.
Someone who is probably fonder of his own voice than Chrissie Hynde is Brett Anderson (or Bert from Suede, as I recall Norman Blake saying in one the music papers back at the start of the 90s). Suede had a go at covering Brass In Pocket for Ruby Trax, an NME compiled triple CD released to celebrate 40 years of the charts where the artists du jour covered some of their favourite tracks of the past 4 decades. Warning! The Suede version is very quiet and even slower than The Pretenders demo but, (whisper it), I quite like it. Even if Bert does take himself a wee bit too seriously. Just listen to the way he sings the “I’m special, so special” line.
A portrait of the artist as the young man.
Sounds like Bowie? Oh Yeah!
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The Shadows Of Knight were a genre-straddling garage punk band from mid 60s Chicago. Taking their cue from The Yardbirds, The Who, The Stones, The etcs etcs blah blah blah, they are as well known on the northern soul scene for ‘Shake‘ as they are on the garage circuit for their feedback soaked version of Them’s ‘Gloria‘. Lenny Kaye’s Nuggets album included this, their version of Bo Diddley’s ‘Oh Yeah’.
A garage stomper of a track, guitars drop in and out of the mix. The rhythm section takes it down. The singer whispers. The rhythm section section takes it up again. The singer screams. The guitars scream. The girls in the audience probably screamed as well. David Bowie was clealry taking notes. The similarity between Oh Yeah and Jean Genie is bordering on the criminal. But you knew that already.
“Has anybody seen Kosher Pickle Harry?” ask The Premiers at the start of Farmer John, their 1964 universally accepted garage classic. Welding the rhyhtms of Louie Louie and Wild Thing (of course) onto a standard 1950s croon-fest proved a success, given that this track reached the giddy heights of number 19 on the charts before the group disappeared from view forever.
Farmer John is seemingly recorded live at some Animal House type frat house party. Girls whoop and cheer, everyone sings the backing vocals and a rocking good time is seemingly had by all. In fact, the track was recorded to 3 tracks in the studio before the band invited their pals in to hear the record for the first time. The engineer at the desk used the 4th track to record the sounds of the studio party and mixed it across the top.
Neil Young liked this track so much he took to covering it live in concert at the start of the 90s. He turned it into a bucketful of grunge and sucked the life out of it, but, hey hey my my, if he hadn’t covered it, I’d never have gone out of my way to dig out the original. So a backhanded ‘thanks‘ to him for that. And remember folks, as the saying goes, “If you dug it, it’s a nugget!”
Tags: neil young, shadows of knight, the premiers
Them was rotten days
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Going to see a band these days is far too expensive. Yer enormodome megastars like U2, Springsteen, AC/DC etc etc charge a small fortune. Yer second string enormodomers like Coldplay, Oasis, (insert your own choice here) etc etc can get away with charging similar fortunes. Even relatively minor league acts are asking you to stump up anything upwards of £15 to hear their one album’s worth of whining nonsense. And why? Cos in this day and age, when folk (like me) illegally share music, the artist has realised that the only way to make money is on the road. That’s why live music has never been so bouyant. Even Madonna is out and about playing a football stadium near you. You can’t download the live experience. Aye, you can download a Dylan concert the minute he’s off stage. And you can watch umpteen YouTube shaky camera phone videos of Paul McCartney on stage with Neil Young even before the last bit of feedback has fizzled out. What you can’t do is download the actual in-yer-face gig. And until you can, your favourite artists will continue getting away with charging you the price of feeding a family of four for a week. But you knew that already.
It wasn’t always like this. I saw Blur for £1! (see above). I paid £4 on the door the first time I saw the Stone Roses. Even their famous Alexandra Palace gig was only £8.50. And they were massive by this point. I’ve tons of tickets for concerts I’ve been to where I’ve paid a fiver or less. Sure, that first Stone Roses concert was 20 years ago. Blur was 18. I’m no economist, but surely the price of gig tickets these days outstrips the rate of inflation?
I saw the Inspiral Carpets loads of times. So named after one band member commented on his fellow band member’s mum’s orange and brown 70s living room carpet, the first time I saw them they were supporting the Wedding Present in the Barrowlands. I thought they sounded like the Teardrop Explodes; swirly organ, 60s references, bowl cuts and all that. Every song sounded like ‘Reward‘. I was hooked. I kept my fingers poised over the pause button of my tape recorder during John Peel shows and I kept my eyes peeled on the gig pages of NME. I went to see them all the time. I paid £3.50 to see them in the bar at Glasgow Tech. A quick visit to their merchandise stall to purchase 2 ‘Cool As Fuck’ badges (lost on the way home) and a demo tape called Dung 4 cost me a further £3.60. Add a couple of student-bar-priced watery pints and you can see that I had a great night out for a tenner.
A couple of weeks ago I dug out that old demo tape and converted it into mp3 files. It’s very much of it’s time, but still sounds pretty good. If you’re in anyway into Farfisa-led 60s influenced tunes sung by a shouty guy called Steve (these songs are pre Tom Hingley fame era) then it’s for you. Some of the tracks appeared polished and shiny down the line on the Rare As Fuck Plane Crash ep. Others crept onto 7″ b sides or re-appeared in future Peel Sessions. If you’re a fan of Inspiral Carpets you’ll know most of them. If not, it’s as good a place to start as any. This tape was the one thing that convinced me I had seen the future of rock n roll. And it wasn’t called Bruce Springsteen.
The Inspiral Carpets occasionally gave out a newsletter. By issue 4 it had become known as the moos-letter. Here’s the one I got round about the time I saw them in Glasgow Tech and bought the tape that you’re just about to download.
Footnote:
I meant to write in my original post that about a year after the Glasgow Tech gig, I saw the Inspiral Carpets again at Strathclyde University. This was round about the time Noel Gallagher was roadying for them. The band were outside unloading their van and I took the chance to get them to sign the inside of my Levis denim jacket. They all signed it (apart from the singer who was, to quote the roadie (Noel?), “away shaggin’”). Clint Boon drew the cow logo and wrote “Inspirals ‘89″ underneath it. I think my sister nicked the jacket about a year later. Pre-eBay, I don’t know where it ended up…
Tags: dung 4, inspiral carpets, noel gallagher
Flip Yer Whig
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Being the totally shallow person that I am, one of the cooler records in my collections is the Afghan Whigs‘ Uptown Avondale 7″ single. On the Sub Pop label. On red vinyl.
Released in 1992, Uptown Avondale was the perfect distilation of the Afghan Whigs’ blend of Sabbath-heavy riffs fighting it out for centre stage with Stax and Motown soul tinges. Was it grunge/soul? Was it soul/grunge? It doesn’t really matter because to these ears it sounded fantastic.
The 7″ features 2 tracks. On the one side, a feedback-soaked minor key version of Freda Payne’s perennial disco classic Band Of Gold. Where the original is heartbreak sung euphorically, this version is half the tempo, half the euphoria but twice the heartbreak. I dug out my single last night and fired up the old Dansette. The single is one of those jukebox singles that’s missing the centre piece. I used to have one of those bits, but somewhere down the line it’s disappeared. I put it on anyway, thinking that the rubber mat on the turntable would keep it in place. Woah! “Noooowwwww ttttthhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaattttt yooooouuuuuu’vvvvveeee gggggaaaaaawwwwwwwnnnnnn aaaaaaallllll ttttttthhhhhhaaaaaaaaaattttt iiiiiiissssss llllllleeeeeeeeffffffftttttt iiiiissss aaaa bbbbbaaaaaannnnnddddd ooooooffff gggggggoooooollllllldddddd.” I had to take it off. It sounded even more downbeat, depressing and deranged than ever. Thankfully, the mp3 sounds the way the Whigs intended.
The flip side is even better. Here, they do a version of The Supreme’s Come See About Me. Whereas the original is all finger-clickin’ hip-shakin’ innocent teenage joy, the Whigs’ version sounds totally dangerous. The drums at the start don’t have the pistol crack that you’ll be familiar with, you’ll need to add your own handclaps, guitar riffs replace the rinky-dink piano trills and backing vocals are whispered with an air of menace rather than sung with innocent joy. “Come see about me” they implore. Eh, I’d rather not, thank you very much. It’s still soul music Jim, but not as we know it. It also happens to be in my Top 10 favourite tracks ever.
If you bought the 12″, you’d also find 2 extra tracks. This, their excellent though downbeat (of course) version of Al Green’s Beware and this, their faithful reworking of yer actual Elvis’ True Love Travels On A Gravel Road. Spooky keyboards. Descending bassline. Heartfelt vocals. All in a minor key. Again.
And if you bought the CD single, there’s a hidden track right at the end, a remix of the band’s own Milez Is Dead. Renamed Rebirth Of The Cool (see what they did there?) it’s apparent they’ve been listening to no less than Fools Gold. Aye! Funkier than a mosquito’s tweeter, some might say. With added heroin.
