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.
Now, Nancy Sinatra with a word to the wise.
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Due to a combination of work commitments, family stuff, illness and far-out holidays in New York I’ve not been doing much blogging recently. Now that things have settled down a bit, I’m back.
Way back when Plain Or Pan first started (nearly 3 years ago) I posted a few Coca-Cola jingles. Visitors to the blog loved them – they were the most downloaded tracks for most of that year, so..when the inspiration just isn’t there to write anything new….this post is a bit of a repeat. I’ve taken the words from a March 07 bit I wrote and the tunes from my Coca Cola folder, although apart from the Nancy Sinatra jingle (which is kitsch, camp and quite ridiculous) I don’t think I’ve made them available on here before.
Hey! Get down! Dig it with the Vanilla Fudge and Coca Cola! My mum tells me that in the swinging 60s, most provincial teenagers never had access to, never mind actually try, the mind-bending drugs that were so obviously shaping music, fashion and the consciousness of society. Instead, the hip, with-it teenagers in my wee corner of the west of Scotland would pop a couple of aspirins into their Coca Cola and swing the night away in a tripped-out approximation of sixties bliss.
Coca Cola were well aware that things indeed go better with a Coca Cola, and their 60’s marketing team were so on the ball that they got the groups du jour to record Coke jingles for local radio and the likes. Most of these jingles are bloody magic. They are quite blatant pastiches of those artists’ current hit singles and fall into 3 distinct categories:
1. The soul/r’n’b artist – Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell, Carla Thomas, The Supremes, Otis Redding, Ray Charles etc etc
2. The fuzzed-out, beat-driven, blues-influenced garage bands – The Who, Vanilla Fudge, Troggs, Box Tops, Dave Dee Dozy Beaky Mick & Titch (so that stretches it a bit, but you get the point)
3. The pop stars/crooners – Bee Gees, Lulu, Roy Orbison, Petula Clark, Nancy Sinatra, etc.
Here’s your starter for 10
Nancy Sinatra’s jingle
Aretha Franklin’s jingle
The Supremes jingle #1
The Supremes jingle #2
The Supremes jingle #3
Aretha Franklin & Ray Charles‘ jingle
Lulu’s jingle
Roy Orbison’s jingle
Vanilla Fudge’s jingle
The Troggs‘ jingle
More to follow in future posts….
Tags: coca cola jingles, coke adverts
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.
Since you’ve g-o-o-o-ne ah got a mess of the blues
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The words of Elvis Himselvis. Maybe my favourite Elvis tune ever. It’s certainly one of them, right up there with Guitar Man et al. Anyway. A mess of the blues. Or to be more exact, many versions of Blues Run The Game. Written and originally recorded by Jackson C Frank it’s become a ubiquitous live standard on the folk scene. It’s been sung by a million sensitive finger picking souls. And it’s been recorded by hundreds of them too. Some versions better than others, none of them particularly messy (sorry if the heading was misleading), all of them worthy of hearing for different reasons.
Jackson C Frank’s story is tragic. In another world and time he’d be as revered as Tim Buckley or Nick Drake. If you know about him, this’ll ring true. If you’ve never heard about him read on.
In 1954 when he was 11, an explosion in Jackson’s school killed15 of his classmates and left him disfigured and hospitalised for 7 months. During this time he learned to play the guitar. The explosion in the school was national news at the time and a substantial compensation was set aside for victims of the event. Fast forward to Jackson’s 21st birthday and a cheque for $100,000. Not a nice way to receive such a sum of money, but Jackson grabbed his chance and set off for England, with the money burning a hole in his pocket and the intention of buying ‘cars and guitars’. Stop for a moment and ponder that statement. I recently re-read Ian Hunter’s fantastic ‘Diary of a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star’. After reading it, the one thing I’d bet my house on is the fact that America has all the best cars and guitars. Jackson must’ve had very conservative tastes indeed.
Meeting Paul Simon on the folk circuit led to Simon producing the ‘Blues Run The Game’ album. The track of the same name was the first original song he wrote and was a standout both on record and in concert. No internet in those days, the folkies would sit, ear cocked with note book and pen in hand to quickly scribble the words. They’d then add it to their own set of songs for their next show at The Finger In The Ear or wherever they were on. I know this as fact. As the son of 2 folkies, I ‘borrowed’ my dad’s copy of ‘Bringing It All Back Home’ and inside it found this scribbled sheet of A4 paper with half the words to Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream scrawled across it in some form of shorthand. Anyway, I digress. Jackson’s story doesn’t turn out particularly happy.
There’s a phrase they use. A musician’s musician. It means someone so supremely gifted that their peers worhsip at their fantastically talented feet. Not necessarily the wider audience at large. The paying customer. Never was this phrase more true of Jackson C Frank. Dylan. Drake. Denny. All playing on the same folk scene at the time, they all dug him. (Everyone dug everyone in the 60s, yeah?) But as Sandy Denny and especially Dylan (we’ll talk about Nick Drake another time) went onto sell records and everything else, Jackson didn’t. A combination of writer’s block and mental health problems (a knock-on effect from the events in his childhood) saw him fall apart quite spectacularly. At the start of the 70s his son died from cystic fibrosis. Heavily depressed, before he knew it, his mental health was so bad he was institutionalised. Following this, he wandered the streets of New York homeless and helpless. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time led to him being shot and blinded. Through years of neglect, his voice was shot and no matter who tried to help him, it seemed Jackson wanted nothing from anyone. Shame, as his friends could see what was happening and were trying desparately to help him recapture his muse and maybe steady him on an even keel once more. It was not to be. Jackson’s troubled life ended in 1999 when he died of a heart attack, aged 56. Cheery stuff, eh?
Jackson C Frank in 1999. Holy fuck.
Blues Run The Game is the sort of song Elliott Smith would be writing these days if he too were still alive. What is it about fucked-up singer-songwriters? It has been done by many. Here’s a few versions….
Nick Drake (taken from one of the countless bootlegs available online)
Bert Jansch (faithful and tasteful re-working)
Simon & Garfunkel (outtake from their debut album sessions)
Eddi Reader (gives it a restrained, shuffly acoustic Led Zeppelin III treatment. Taken from her Simple Soul album. S’a cracker)
Headless Heroes (Feisty-sounding, anonymous 21st century collective from America. S’another cracker!)
Any other 21st century folkies with an ear cocked and notebook and pen poised might be interested in the following…
Catch a boat to England, baby,
Maybe to Spain,
Wherever I have gone,
Wherever I’ve been and gone,
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same.
Send out for whisky, baby,
Send out for gin,
Me and room service, honey,
Me and room service, babe,
Me and room service
Well, we’re living a life of sin
When I’m not drinking, baby,
You are on my mind,
When I’m not sleeping, honey,
When I ain’t sleeping, mama,
When I’m not sleeping
Well you know you’ll find me crying.
Try another city, baby,
Another town,
Wherever I have gone,
Wherever I’ve been and gone,
Wherever I have gone
The blues come following down.
Living is a gamble, baby,
Loving’s much the same,
Wherever I have played,
Wherever I throw them dice,
Wherever I have played
The blues have run the game.
Maybe tomorrow, honey,
Someplace down the line,
I’ll wake up older,
So much older, mama,
Wake up older
And I’ll just stop all my trying.
Catch a boat to England, baby,
Maybe to Spain,
Wherever I have gone,
Wherever I’ve been and gone,
Wherever I have gone
The blues are all the same.
Happy Jack
Now I Wanna Be Your Blog
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The curse of the blogger has struck. Inspiration (or lack of) has slowed down my writing recently. That and decent weather, school holidays and a list of ‘to do’ things from Mrs Pan which quite frankly is taking the piss. Today, in a rare frenzied bout of online activity I read the news that Steve Dullaghan, bass player and founding member of The Primitives had died, aged just 42. I felt compelled to write a wee bit. Just a very wee bit, as you will find out in the next paragraph.
I remembered a piece I wrote a couple of years ago, and given that I have more readers now than I did then, I figured that most of you reading this will be reading it for the first time. Apologies if you’ve been here before (and thanks for sticking around). To make up for it I’ve added a few extra tunes not included in the original post. Get most of them and you’ve got yourself a nice wee introduction to the music of The Primitives.
The Primitives were from Coventry and formed in 1985. Along with The House of Love and The Wedding Present, for me they filled the gap post-Smiths and pre-Stone Roses. I bloody loved them. Their first single was ‘Thru The Flowers’ which was released in May of 1986. I’ve got it on super sexy seven inch and I am open to offers. It’s not the same version that appeared on their debut album ‘Lovely’.
Initially, they were very primitive and all the songs were noisy and sloppy because that is how they played. Listen to the demo of 2nd single ‘Really Stupid’ to see what I mean. Still sounds terrific to this day. John Peel was a bit of a fan, and like many acts of the day, the band recorded a session for him. Here’s the twangy rockabilly gutterpunk of ‘Buzz Buzz Buzz’.
The obvious focal point for a teenage boy like me was Tracy Tracy who was cute as cute and looked a bit like Ruth Ellis (the last woman to be hanged in Britain). The others dressed head to toe in black, wore skinny jeans and pointy boots and at some point all had Ringo Starr circa 1965 haircuts (though sadly not in the photo below).
Whilst I was in love with Tracy, Paul the guitarist was clearly in love with Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground (Lou Reed’s first band was called The Primitives too) and he had a great collection of guitars – he was one of only two guitarists in the UK to own a particularly rare version of a Fender Thinline Telecaster. The other belonged to the guitar player from Culture Club. Fancy that! The band went through more line-up changes than Spinal Tap. The original drummer Pete Tweedie wasn’t very good, so most of their early stuff was actually done with a drum machine (something most people don’t realize – listen carefully and you’ll hear the click track at the start of ‘Stop Killing Me’) and Pete would play along on the ride cymbal or hi hat. They released six singles with the sixth being a re-recorded version of ‘Thru The Flowers‘ before they eventually signed to RCA in 1987.
In 1988 the album ‘Lovely‘ was released and it is brilliant. It was a night and day change from their early singles. All of a sudden they knew how to play their instruments. The first change they made was getting rid of Pete the drummer. The next thing they did was re-record a few of their old singles, such as ‘Stop Killing Me’. I’m normally dead against bands who do that, but in The Primitives case it meant that 1) those early singles became quite collectable, and 2) the new ones arguably sounded better.
Morrissey, out for a duck whilst wearing his Stop Killing Me t-shirt
The other key to their sound was producer Paul Sampson who went back through all their old demos and found ‘Crash‘, a song they had scrapped. This was their only big hit and became a bit of an albatross for them. You’ve probably heard it. That guy from Busted has got a version out just now. It’s in the new Mr Bean movie. Honestly!
Anyway, sales inevitably diminished, and the band continued to release great singles that only myself bought. ‘Way Behind Me’ and ‘You Are The Way’ being a fine examples. Co-written by Ian Broudie, You Are The Way in particular shoulda been a massive hit. I guess there’s just no accounting for taste.
The hidden jewel in their crown for me though is a track that originally appeared on the b-side of ‘Way Behind Me’ and was re-recorded with the guitarist singing. ‘All The Way Down’ is a brilliant piece of pseudo-Nuggets hammond ‘n’ bongos psychedelia and YOU NEED IT! For good measure, you might also need the 1985 demo. Contrast and compare. They came a long way, eh?
Of course, the band eventually petered out. Recording as Pink Bomb, Tracy added her vocals to some generic Ministry Of Sound pishy dance track, and after recording as Starpower (here’s their rather brilliant twang n reverb-heavy version of Lee n Nancy’s ‘Some Velvet Morning’ (with Tracy on vocals)) Paul became a graphic designer. Download the tracks above and remember them this way. And get over to Amazon or Play or wherever and pick up their Best Of for about £4.
Bonus tracks. Recorded live from the audience at Glasgow School of Art on March 19th 1988 ( a mere 21 years ago!!!), here’s another version of ’Really Stupid’ and their cover of Iggy & the Stooges ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’. Ruff ruff ruff-ruff! Or should that be rough rough rough-rough! Aye. No’ very good live, but pleasant to look at. I think I fainted at this gig. It was very warm. Saw the Sugarcubes there a month or so later. I didn’t faint at that one.
tracy tracy ruth ellis
Like A Rolling Stone quadruple-whammy
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Probably Bob Dylan’s most famous song, Like A Rolling Stone shows no sign of gathering moss just yet. He’s still playing it live to this day, and unusually for 21st Century Bob, it sounds fairly similar to the original 1965 version released on Highway 61 Revisited. Dylan loves playing around with songs, changing them, playing them in different keys and in diferent tempos (LARS was originally in 3/4 waltz time). If you get him on a good night, he might have told the band that the key has changed before they start playing it. On a great night (Barrowlands 2004) he might even conduct the lucky few in the room in a bit of a singsong. “We musta played that song a thousand times and ain’t nobody ever kept up with us.” For Bob to say anything to his audience, never mind a dish out praise as flattering as that, is rare indeed. Given that Bob likes to change his songs so much, I’m sure The Old Zim would like, even dig, the versions below.
How does it feel? Burny, of course
I say ‘dig’ because, as you no doubt know, in between changing the sound of the rock guitar forever and before disappearing somewhere down flare city, Jimi Hendrix was Dylan fan numero uno back in the 60s. His version is from the Monterey Music Festival in 1967. It’s long, bluesy and uh, kinda groovy. Yeah, dig brother (You get the idea). Jimi set fire to his guitar at the end of this show. Everyone thinks he did this all the time on stage, but he didn’t. Monterey was one of those rare occassions.
Another guitar hero who had a bash at LARS was Mick Ronson. Redolent with full-on Ziggy Les Paul power chords and rather shitty sounding drums, this version is remarkable in that it features David Bowie on vocals. It wouldn’t sound out of place on ‘Pin Ups’ (my 2nd favourite Bowie album, just behind Hunky Dory). Choc-full of spectacular guitar sounds, it twangs, squeals and screeches it’s way from beginning to end in just over 4 minutes.
The Creation were a pslightly psych garage rock band from England. But you probably knew that too. They famously described their music as ‘red with purple flashes’ and for most of the time this was true. Obviously, Alan McGee was a fan. Obviously. ‘Making Tyme’, ‘How Does It Feel?’ ‘Painter Man’ (aye, later done by Boney M) are all fantastic speed/acid fuelled foot-to-the-floor romps throught the tale-end of the 60s. Shame, then, that their version of LARS is so tame. Given that Bob was something of a Holy Grail for many of these musicians, it’s possible that The Creation were just paying too much respect to the tune. I don’t know, but listening to it doesn’t really conjure up the red and purple flashes I’d like.
Oh smile, ffs
The same cannot be said for The Soup Greens. Recorded in just one take, this is garage band rock at it’s finest. The Soup Greens have the distinction of making LARS sound like Louie Louie or Wild Thing, and given that that’s pretty much the only songs they knew before recording this (there are only 8 known Soup Greens recordings in existence), it makes perfect sense. There’s echo, twang, Farfisa organ and that nagging insistant beat that Julian Cope clearly heard and ripped off before passing it off as an original recording. Back in the mid 80s, Cope was indeed flying in the face of fashion, but World Shut Your Mouth would not have been possible without this record, that much is clear. Even with the vinyl snaps, crackles and pops, it. Is. A. Belter.
Bonus Track. You know that song Groovin’? “Groovin’ waah-waah-wah (harmonica riff) on a Sunday afternoon waah-wah-wah” It was by The Rascals. Before they became The Rascals, they were the Young Rascals. If you watch The Beatles at At Shea Stadium closely (google it – it’s downloadable!) you’ll spot a ‘The Young Rascals Are Coming’ banner. That’s them. They do a fairly good West Coast version of LARS. You can hear it here. Cheerio!
Take your knickers off and let’s go!
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Hmmmmm…it appears that the internet police have been at it again. Both versions of Revolution take 20 have been were mysteriously deleted from my file sharing account. If you’ve visited specifically for them, read on…
It’s amazing to think that, 41 years after initially being recorded, a new mix of The Beatles ‘Revolution‘ has made it’s way out of the box marked ‘Masters’ and onto the internet. Not just any old new mix, oh no! The mix getting every Beatles bore’s knickers in a twist is the fabled Revolution Take 20, all uninterrupted 10min 46 seconds of it. Shooby-doo-wop, ah-wow!
The history books point to this take being recorded on the 4th June 1968 and apparently had John Lennon singing the whole of the backing vocals whilst lying on his back. The Master Tape box was labelled ‘Revolution – Mama Papa’. Sadly (for me) it doesn’t feature Michelle Phillips on guest vocals, or even Papa John banging away on a tambourine somewhere in the background. The ‘Mama Papa’ refers to the backing vocals Lennon sings in the second half of the song (starting around the 5min 40s mark). Listen out, too, for the amusing studio chatter at the start and a wee bit of Yoko Ono at the end.
Lennon recording his vocals. Taken from the excellent Mark Lewisohn Beatles Sessions trainspotters delight book.
Sonically, Take 20 lies somewhere between the laid-back Beach Boys-y acoustic version of Revolution 1 on side 3 of the White Album and Revolution 9’s looped tapes and weird noises. There’s some harmonica buried deep in the mix, some nonsensical Lennon mumbles, what sounds like George Harrison’s guitar doing an impression of an air raid siren and all manner of weird things going on. It goes without saying, of course, but any discerning fan of The Beatles needs this take. I’m certain it’s spreading across the interent like a happy virus even as I type, but you can get it here (high quality mp3 file) or here (higher quality flac file). Whatchawaitin’ for?
Bonus Track! At the start of September ‘68, Paul McCartney got pissed off with Pete Townshend for suggesting that The Who were the only band still capable of rocking out any more. By the 13th of September The Beatles had recorded this, the 21st take of Helter Skelter. Blisters on their fingers indeed!
Try Listening To The 12″
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Watching the predicto-fest that was the Brits the other night, my mind started wandering half-way through the Pet Shop Boys Lifetime Achievement Award set. Even in all their badly-mimed, poorly edited megamix glory, I have to say that I like the Pet Shop Boys, but I couldn’t help thinking that, had they not been so contrary, difficult (and split up), New Order would’ve been up there getting their backs well and truly slapped by all manner of minor celebrity instead.
Here are the young men
Of course, being contrary and difficult is exactly what maketh the band. Famous for leaving the big hits off the albums (in a give-the-fans-value-for-money kinda way) they never fail to irritate, infuriate and infatuate me in equal measure. My formative years as a beer drinker in training were soundtracked by 3 12″ records – Talking Heads ‘Slippery People’, Simple Minds‘ ‘I Travel’ and New Order’s ‘Blue Monday’ (naturelement). To this day I can still tap out Blue Monday’s opening bars with 2 Bic pens on an empty can of Tennents. When I hear it, I still get flashbacks to being 15 and drunk in a pal’s house (or even worse, a pal’s loft. Try getting out of one of them after 2 cans and a packet of dry roasted peanuts!)
I’ve mentioned this previously, but if you’re new here you won’t know, so I’ll mention this again. I was too young to fully appreciate the full majesty of a prime New Order. I got into Blue Monday and worked my way backwards. Then I discovered Joy Division (via Paul Young, ouch). But I digress. RS McColl’s in Irvine had the best record department I’ve ever seen. Essentially a paper shop that sold sweeties, you could travel backwards in time if you went into the back shop. Rows upon rows of vinyl. Crammed into whatever space was available. Apparently the shop never returned anything to the record companies. You could buy anything there. The wee woman who worked in it knew the stock like the back of her hand and she could tell you exactly where something was in the racks too. There was a loose consession to alphabetical order but you’d never find anything by that method. The best records were found by accident, possibly because someone had found it before you and stashed it somewhere until they had enough money to buy it. The wee woman was also very generous. Once I realised they sold New Order 7″s and 12″s, I was never out of the place. I quickly realised that if you wanted more than one thing, she’d knock 50p or £1 off the total price now and again. I eventually bought the entire New Order section from there and I think it cost me about £8.30 in total. A slight exaggeration, but you get the idea. I used to have to sneak the records home in my school bag cos my mum would go mad if she caught me “wasting” money on records. Subsequently, most of my New Order records have buckles and bends in the corners of the sleeves. Silly me.
Don’t worry, the music’s coming
Last year, New Order were the latest act to get involved in that great fan-fleecing racket, the Deluxe Edition. I can’t help but think that this would never have happened under Tony Wilson or Factory Records patronage, but major labels like the smell of cash and they know how trainspottery fans can be. New Order’s back catalogue from ‘Movement‘ up to ‘Technique‘ was re-released with all manner of b-sides, remixes, alt. versions and associated album release singles included on the second disc of each album. Movement included an alt version of ‘Ceremony‘ from 1981. I’m not 100% sure about this, but I think this slightly out-of-tune version was re-recorded after Gillian Gilbert joined the group. I’m sure New Order scholars will keep me right on that one.
This disc also featured 2 versions of ‘Temptation‘ (not the shiny, better-known version from Substance and Trainspotting, but the original cold, clattering Manchester funk version.) The 7″ version has an abrupt start (if that makes sense) and fades out rather quickly as well. The wee message scratched into the run-out groove on the 7″ read, “Try listening to the 12″“. So I did. I liked it better. But it also started and ended kinda funny. The 12″ run-out read, “What do you think?” At the time of release, rumour had it that you were supposed to splice the 7″ version to the 12″ version for one long continuous mix. Almost impossible to do with a BSR Music Centre in the mid-80s, but these days with free, easy to use software like Audacity, this could be quite easily tested. Anyone fancy trying it?
One minor trivial, trainspottery fact. That scream you hear after 52 seconds of the 12″ version is the sound of Peter Hook and Rob Gretton running into the vocal booth to stick snowballs down the back of Barney’s neck just as he’s about to start singing. S’true!
The biggest selling 12″ record in history
Power, Corruption and Lies is enhanced with the addition of such behemoth non-album tracks as Blue Monday, Confusion and Thieves Like Us. What an album that would’ve made! My 12″ of Blue Monday has the unusual quirk of being labelled incorrectly. The side that says ‘Blue Monday’ actually plays the b-side, ‘The Beach’, and vice-versa. Now, that used to really confuse me at the afore-mentioned parties when I’d play ‘The Beach’ instead of the a-side. It seemed I was the only one who owned a wrongly-labelled record. Anyway, I’ve now heard The Beach a million times more than anyone else and I love the phased, processed drums, synthetic Kraftwerk-aping vocals (listen to ‘Uranium’ from 1975’s ’Radioactivity’) and elastic band bassline as much as I love the a-side. Have a listen.
‘True Faith’ remains my favourite New Order track. Like many of it’s preceding singles, it has also played a part in soundtracking my formative years. I bought the 12″ remix version (above) on the Isle Of Man the day after a particularly memorable and highly personal experience on a park bench in the Douglas Gardens with a girl from Liverpool. Yep! The original version is by far the best, but the 9 min + Shep Pettibone remix is worth a listen, if only for realising just how much those Lifetime Achieving Pet Shop Boys lifted every bang, crash and production technique from it. Nice rinky-dink Chic-esque guitar riffs in it now and again though.
On initial copies of the 4CD ‘Retro‘ box set that came out 4 or 5 years ago, you got a 5th CD of bonus remixes etc. Included on this disc was the mega-rare Pink Noise Morel edit of ‘True Faith’. It sounds very much like the last track of a remix single (ie, no’ that good) but I’ve included it here for curio value.
‘Run 2′ (a re-recording of the track ‘Run‘ from ‘Technique‘) got the band into a bit of bother with American country-folky John Denver. He claimed they stole his melody from ‘Leaving On A Jet Plane’ and the band ended up withdrawing the single. 20,000 were pressed up and distributed. Today selling half that amount would keep you at number 1 for a month or so, but in 1989 record sales were far healthier and New Order’s chart positions not as lofty as they might’ve been. ‘Run 2′ captures New Order at that thing they do best – uplifting yet melancholic music with a great hook. Maybe John Denver had a point…
Another thing. The last time I saw New Order (Glasgow Barrowlands, 2002) I had a tap on the shoulder during ‘Run’. “Sorry pal, but I cannae see for you.”
Pat Nevin! (Google him if you’re none the wiser)
And now the ironic part…
After being released last year, people started complaining about the sound quality of these Deluxe Editions. There were accusations that some of the tracks were mastered onto CD from the vinyl originals instead of the master tapes. Nothing new in this of course. My original CD copy of ‘Kind Of Blue’ has a comforting fluffy sound between blasts of Miles Davis’ trumpet. I like it like that. It takes me back to an era I wasn’t old enough to experience first time round. Even those lovers of lo-fi The La’s have fallen victim of this. Last years ‘Deluxe Edition’ of their debut album (I live in hope) featured tracks that were copied from an old C90 tape that someone at the record company had found behind the sofa, even though the master tapes were made available to them for remastering purposes! It seems the cheaper option was to dub from the old TDK. And there’s the rub. Fleece the fans by getting them to shell out for hard-to-find material but do it as cheaply as possible. New Order quickly withdrew all the re-released albums, making them something of a collector’s edition (if not Deluxe Edition) and until they are re-re-re-released (gently down the stream) some time later this year, the above tracks’ll have to do. Or you could try eBay of course. It doesn’t bother me. I think they sound magic just the way they are.
