I close my eyes and I see you next to me

I went to see John Power on Friday night at The Bodega. It was a very intimate gig; he spoke warmly and candidly about how Lee Mavers mentored him when he was in the La's and showed him how to write songs. Since the last time I saw John (in 1995 when Cast played at Trent Uni) I appear to have grown old (when did that happen?) and he's ended up writing one of the finest songs ever to have come out of this country in the last 30 years. 

John Power - Mariner (live, 2009)

The Bodega is one of my favourite venues in Nottingham. It only holds a couple of hundred people and lends itself to photographing bands and artists. As well as capturing them 'head on' it's got a little rail at the side next to the steps where the bands walk on stage; perfect for leaning on and getting some backlit shots from behind...

Been waiting for the bus all day

I'd love to think that in a parallel universe there's another me, a nerdier version of me, if you will, who is passionate about stamps; but only stamps with buses on them. This version of me, let's call him John Medd 2.0, is continually visiting stamp fairs all over the world - tracking down every postage stamp from every country ever to bear the image of a humble bus.

I think I'd get on with him. We'd probably bump into each other at the airport, or in some European city square while I was photographing a laundromat and he was, I don't know, on his way to some far-flung philatelic convention. I like him already; we should meet up for a drink sometime.  

ZZ Top - Waiting for the Bus (1973)

Bus times

Whatever happened to the Partridge Family bus? The one painted in the style of Dutch abstract Piet Mondrian; it probably won't surprise you that there are as many websites dedicated solely to this mystery as there are stars in the solar system. However, long story short, the 1955 Chevrolet 6800 purchased by the TV company in 1970 (from a school district in Orange County, California) for the show's pilot, finally met its maker in 1987. (There are witnesses who saw it in the scrapyard).

So, if you've seen one after then, rest assured you're looking at a copy. A bit like the Mondrian hanging in my office.

Piet Mondrian (1872-1944)

That's Living, alright

Apologies for my absence; it was something of an enforced hiatus brought about by gremlins in the works. My Mac is currently very poorly (thoughts and prayers etc.) and is out of commission until James does his laying on of hands thing and (hopefully) brings it back from the dead Lazarus style. In the meantime, I'm bringing any foreseeable new content to you c/o a rather handsome reconditioned laptop I picked up in Sherwood this morning - which is a million times faster than the Mac currently and is a dream to work with.

Before I was so rudely interrupted, and before my old machine went loco, I was halfway through writing about the lovely Jacqui Abbott. It was also before I'd been to see Living, the new Bill Nighy film. I'll try and pick up where I left off...  

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It was Jacqui Abbott's birthday on Thursday. A belated Happy Birthday, Jacqui, from all at Medd Towers. 

I was watching the recent Word in Your Ear podcast earlier and in it Jacqui talks really movingly and affectionately about how she met Paul Heaton and ultimately joined the Beautiful South; as well as the huge part her family played - and continue to play - in her musical life. Fast forward to 19:55 and see just how nervous her dad was before her first 'warm up' gig in Middlesborough in 1993. You can see in this interview with Mark Ellen & David Hepworth how grounded this northern lass is and is so not a diva.

Paul Heaton is a consummate songwriter. His barbed lyrics come wrapped in a tune and a melody so at odds, often, with the words that he's able to sing about stuff you wouldn't normally hear on national daytime radio. Don't Marry Her (Fuck Me) being one that springs to mind. It's not very often, therefore, that you see him tackle someone else's songs. Especially not a middle of the road, lighters aloft, soft rock anthem. That said, Heaton and Abbott play this particular Russ Ballard penned power ballad in a rather gentler fashion and, no, Ritchie Blackmore does not come out from behind the curtain to play the solo.

Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott - Since You've Been Gone (2022)

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I went to Nottingham's Broadway Cinema last Sunday and saw a film that should clean up at any and indeed all upcoming awards. Best film, best screenplay, best actor, best support: Living, Kazuo Ishiguro, Bill Nighy, Aimee Lou Wood. There, I've called it. Lemme know what you think.

Living (2022)

Owl Wednesday

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Brevity is everything. This beautiful ditty by Monster Rally clocks in at a little under two minutes and is pure pop perfection. It's the opposite of Monday Long Song; which I love btw - I often contribute myself - but sometimes less is more. I think this bookends yesterday's offering by Jon Kennedy perfectly. I like that; Jon from Manchester and Ted Feighan (Ted is Monster Rally) from Cleveland, Ohio. I wonder if they've met?

Monster Rally - Sister Owls (2019)