Jane #1

We don't know an awful lot about Jane. She wears a vest. She's a clerk. She saves her money. She may or may not like to go out dancing. Oh, and she's sweet; that much we do know.

It's a Lou Reed song he recorded many times, solo and with the Velvets, but I've gone for Mott's version. It's taken from their All the Young Dudes album. Ian Hunter always knew which way the wind was blowing and, by inference, which songs to appropriate. (It was released as a single in 1973 in America, Canada, Germany, Holland, Portugal and Spain. But not in the UK for some reason. Expect to pay up to £30 for a copy. Sweet.) 

Mott the Hoople - Sweet Jane (1972)

Awkward

If your formative years were anything like mine then how you felt growing up in the early 70s can probably be best defined by one word. Awkward; standing on the precipice of teenhood was just that - a precipice. If you've forgotten what exactly hanging around looked like in 1972 then I suggest you take three minutes out of your timetable and watch this amazing Super 8 footage of kids with the world at their feet - if they did but know it. In this reel (more like a time capsule, really) these lads & lassies can be seen displaying absolutely none of the attitude, confidence, or, for want of a better word, brazenness, their 21st century counterparts possess when the cameras are turned on them. The music, btw, is Slady - the UK's only all female Slade tribute band. 

Bridgend, South Wales, c.1972/3 - Film c/o Roland Morris

 

"Stand by for Action!"

Built in 1965, Forton Services on the M6 (betwixt J32/33) is probably the most recognisable services in the UK. Unfortunately, its hexagonal Pennine Tower Restaurant and sundeck were closed to the public in 1989 (file under 'Nothing in this country works anymore') but apparently the views to be had over Morecambe Bay were unrivalled.

I may have taken a few liberties with the above photo I took of it as I made my way to Scotland last year, but the image below is how I always see it in my mind's eye (file under 'Everything was better in the 70s); owing, as it does, more to Commander Shore and Marineville than its current iteration as a Moto pie and a piss stop just outside Lancaster. 

Miss November

Back in 1972 Swedish model Lena Forsén couldn't possibly have foreseen that when she got the gig to pose topless for Playboy magazine in 1972 (she was their Miss November centrespread) her, cropped, image (above) would be used worldwide for decades as industry standard for most photo image processing algorithms - what we know today as jpegs; many years later she was credited with being the first Lady of the Internet.

I heard the fascinating story this afternoon on 99% Invisible the wonderful radio show/podcast hosted by Roman Mars - now in its 14th year and with well over 500 episodes in the can. Lena's story, as with most features on the show, is fascinating. Click on the above link to find out more and here the episode in full (it's on the 'Shirley Cards' ep. - another fascinating photographic story I wasn't previously aware of). In the meantime, here's the uncropped photograph taken by Dwight Hooker as it would have appeared at the time (minus the staples).

Hot and fuzzy

When I read a band's bio and I see the phrase - 'Again the mainstream record buying public wanted no part of this nonsense' my ears always prick up. Who could possibly warrant such a public slap down? Stavely Makepeace, that's who. They would later become glam giants Lieutenant Pigeon; actually, they weren't glam giants at all. How could they be, they came from Coventry. Don't @me - for every Specials there's a Renee & Renato. But they did give us this slab of 1972 piano based tomfoolery - and for that we should be eternally grateful.

We should also be eternally grateful that they put this on the B side. As someone in the YouTube comments section below says 'I'd love to hear a 20 minute version of this.' So would I, my friend, so would I.

Lieutenant Pigeon - The Villain (1972)

Anyway, back to Stavely Makepeace. This charming little nugget (below) was released just before The Villain and, as you can hear, the seeds are being sown. And yes, Simon Pegg did use it to great effect many years later in Hot Fuzz.

Stavely Makepeace - Slippery Rock (1972)

Ulysses?

In the same way that Noddy and Slade stamped their trademark on the 70s (not to mention Christmas) so too did Roy Wood: forming the Electric Light Orchestra with his mate Jeff Lynne after the demise of the Move, before throwing his lot in with Wizzard, whilst throughout glam (and beyond) keeping one hand on a none too shabby solo career (a bottom drawer permanently stuffed with songs he couldn't find a home for in any of his bands), Wood, in a lot of ways, probably out-Slayed Slade; whereas Noddy shared songwriting duties with bass player Jim Lea and didn't have to worry about going it alone, Roy was writing all the hits for both himself and the band singlehanded. And he applied his own make-up! 

His first solo album, Boulders, released in 1973 comprised songs he'd squirrelled away since the late 60s. It's a beautiful collection and a solo effort in every sense: written by, produced & played by (all instruments with the exception of the harmonium) and he also painted his self portrait on the sleeve. The record is crammed with hits that never were* including one track he'd written for the New Seekers and their stab at Eurovision: Songs of Praise, which made it to the last six of the heats was outvoted in 1972 by Beg, Steal or Borrow. But just take a look at some of the other songwriters on display here - Mike Leander - who co-wrote all Gary Glitter's top 10 hits, Mike Sammes (without his Singers) & Ray Davies - he of the Button Down Brass (not the Kink) to name but three.

A Song for Europe 1972 - 12 February, 1972

* When I said 'hits that never were', I meant with the exception of this gem. I loved it then and I love it still...

Roy Wood - Dear Elaine (1973)

At Sixes and Sevens

On Sunday evenings in 1972 any self respecting teenager with access to a radio and a rudimentary tape recorder could be found in their bedroom with their fingers poised over the play and record buttons as they constructed their very own playlists. Between 4pm and 6pm the weekly chart rundown was presided over by Radio 1 jock Tom Browne. All the platters that mattered got an airing; well, nearly all. For some reason the Beeb had a problem with Judge Dread. Tom would skim over the fact that Big Six (and later Big Seven) was sitting at #8 in the charts - but steadfastly refused to play it. What was going on? What could it be that prevented it from being played on the airwaves? And who was buying it if nobody could hear it? It would be a number of years later till I got to hear it in full. And what great tunes they were (Six and Seven). My 11 year old self would have loved 'em, nothing's so sure.

I don't know if Dread, real name Alexander Minto Hughes (1945-1998), lost too much sleep over his blanket ban by the corporation - probably not (it didn't seem to hinder sales). Everyone loves an anti-hero and in 1972 Judge Dread certainly fitted the bill.

Judge Dread - Big Six (1972)

Young and beautiful, but someday your looks will be gone

Dennis Wilson (1944-1983)

Dennis Wilson was a proper Beach Boy; the only Wilson who could surf, for one. Probably better than his drumming, that's for sure (his percussion parts were regularly overdubbed in the studio by session guys). Not that it bothered him; Dennis was a rock star - he had money to spend, drugs to take, gangs to join, women to fuck and cars to trash.

But the middle brother came good during the band's fallow period in the early 70s when Brian's head began to unravel. Some of his songs, whilst maybe not as pitch perfect as his elder sibling's symphonic masterpieces, nevertheless had a certain unique quality that carried the group through their quieter years. Cuddle Up, co-written with 'Captain' Daryl Dragon (he and his partner, Toni Tennille, were both bona fide Beach Boys [and girl] at the time) is a nailed on classic. It's a timeless song that sits rightly at any top table of classic Beach Boys records. I love it.

The Beach Boys - Cuddle Up (1972)

Fit for a King

Elvis had many looks - thin Elvis, fat Elvis, army Elvis. But when you think of early 70s Elvis - the Vegas Years - you picture him in your mind's eye in that iconic white jumpsuit (with the collar turned up. Natch). A sartorial nightmare in the wrong hands, you would have thought: why, who else would be crazy enough to walk down the street in 1972 wearing a heavily sequinned all-in-one jacket/trouser combo verging on the utterly ridiculous; your chances of being run out of town on a rail would, on a scale of 98 to 100, be, well, pushing 100.

Unless, that is, you were the Osmonds. Ever wondered how many white jumpsuits you could fit on a stage at any one time? Five, seemingly. Sometimes six, though long haired (underage) lovers from Liverpool don't really count.

...

When the insanely talented brothers released Crazy Horses, their fifth long player, this was, for my money, the best song on the album. And, as I found out only recently, the intro is the perfect soundtrack to brush your teeth to. I kid you not. 

The Osmonds - Hold Her Tight (1972)

We Go On

There's probably a word for it in German - that feeling you get when you hear a much loved tune (usually, but not always, from the 70s) being given a makeover aimed at (usually, but not always) millennials; especially when it works. And, boy, does this one work.

Based on a non-charting single 1965 single by Jimmy Clanton, Hurting Each Other (which would later go on to give Richard and Karen Carpenter a massive Number One hit in 1972), the Avalanches have - with a little help from Cola Boyy and Mick Jones - shone new light through old windows and come up with, I think, something rather special.

Jimmy Clanton - Hurting Each Other (1965)

The Avalanches - We Go On (2020)

 

Shag, anyone?

I wonder if anyone's written a thesis on bubblegum? It wouldn't surprise me. Disposable pop music as an art form. Though maybe not that disposable - much of its canon from the 70s has endured to this day and is still, annoyingly, as catchy as ever nearly half a century later. 

Acclaimed music critic Lester Bangs may have been on to something when he described bubblegum as  'the basic sound of rock and roll, minus the rage, fear and violence.' Which is probably why I still get a kick out of hearing songs like this. (BTW - look at the classic chart countdown in the background while the record's playing.)

Shag - Loop-di-Love (1972)

But if Jonathan King is too much for you to stomach, here's the original version sung, a year earlier, by Juan Bastos. Imagine the Pied Piper being followed through the streets of Amsterdam not by rodents but instead by nubiles in calf length boots and hot pants. Well it was 1971.

Juan Bastos - Loop-di-Love (1971)

Baby Baby Baby! (It's a Beano Friday)

Welcome to another Be-Bop Friday - slightly rebadged today in honour of one of my best friends. That's Mark (Beano to his buddies) pictured above - the photograph will make perfect sense, I'm sure, by the time you've read his love letter to a band that still make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, some four decades after he first discovered them.

***

"Do you remember your first kiss? Of course you do! Mine was from a girl called Sarah Blackburn, she lived on our street and I would have been maybe 10, fancied her like mad for ages. Likewise, I bet you remember the first band you discovered. I do too, and their music still gives me goosebumps to this day. At one time they were the biggest band around. They reached the dizzy heights of Number 1 no less than six times in the 70s - and remember you needed to sell a million copies in those days to reach the top spot. Three Number One 1 albums followed; one of which is considered up there with the very best live albums ever (I’ve just voted for it in Classic Rock’s best live album poll). 

They made a film too, a proper one, which you went to the flicks to see. It was way ahead of its time and showed the dark side of the music business. Years after its release it would be described by BBC film critic, Mark Kermode as 'the Citizen Kane of rock musicals.' The movie subsequently went on to achieve critical acclaim.

Know who it is yet? Well, Q magazine once described  them as ‘the missing link between Oasis and the Beatles’ - Oasis would go on to record a splendid cover version of one of their hitz and then play it in front of an adoring 60,000 fans at Maine Road, Manchester. But let me guess, you still don't know who it is. (I think we do, Mark! John).

The band is SLADE, and they get little recognition for their considerable input to this great nation’s music scene other than for a certain festive hit. Not that is until you venture into my world: bitten by the bug in the early 80s via one of those compilation albums SLADE Smashes, I couldn’t believe what I was listening too. It was awesome, with that voice hitting you between the eyes like a sledgehammer. The Black Country Boyz even returned to the charts for me, reinvented with Noddy as the Rock 'n' Roll Preacher. Every locker in my school had the words ‘BEANO – SLADE’ plastered all over them: Beano being my nickname (still is, 40 years later) and SLADE being my band. 

Their second coming lasted till the mid 80’s when they were cast aside chart wise, but I still got my fix by going to Slade related TV shows & and conventions - attended by the Magic 500, a bunch of like minded super fans whose sole purpose was to turn it up to 11 and 'Stamp your feet and clap your hands.' These events have created some amazing friendships which go far wider than just the love of music, and nobody can take that away; no matter what the non-disciples may think.

And the love affair continues to this day, with walls full of memorabilia and guess what? My band returning to the album charts (in the Top 10, again) with a look back at past glories in the shape of Cum On Feel The Hitz. Time for this SLADE super fan to feel normal again, well at least for a little while!

So, don’t forget your first love, and, remember, SLADE are for life, not just for Christmas!"

A huge thank you to Mark for this. As you can see, Beano is now the proud owner of Jim Lea's confetti jacket - the one he wore on the front cover of their 1972 album, Slayed? Though I'm told it's a little on the snug side.

Palace Laundry

In June 1972 the Rolling Stones embarked on a sellout stadium tour of the United Stares. Unsurprisingly, the tour was not without its problems. No official album or film of the two month trek exists, though many bootlegs are in circulation, as is the infamous Cocksucker Blues movie which depicts the underbelly of life on the road with the greatest rock and roll band in the world tm.

Renowned photographer Jim Marshall captured many images of the band around this time; not least this stunning shot of Mick seemingly giving priceless advertising for a south London launderette.


Stevie Wonder was the support on the tour and he and his band would often come out at the end for a joint encore.

Rolling Stones & Stevie Wonder - Uptight/Satisfaction (1972)

Different Drum

I''m really looking forward to reading the Michael Nesmith autobiography I've just ordered - Infinite Tuesday. Whilst I think all four Monkees are fascinating individuals, there's something about the one they call Nez that I can't quite put my finger on. And no, it's not his trademark wooly hat, though I will be hugely disappointed if I find his titfer hasn't been granted its own chapter.

As part of a research project I'm currently carrying out - putting the case for his 1972 album And the Hits Just Keep on Comin' being one of the greatest recordings of the 20th Century - it will, I'm sure, prove invaluable. In 1972 you won't be surprised to learn that I was still watching the Monkees syndicated TV reruns on our newly acquired Radio Rentals telly; I had no idea that Nesmith had already left the band, ditched the hat, grown a beard and single handedly invented Alt. Country. All I knew back in 1972 was that Last Train to Clarksville was a song I knew I would love for the rest of my life* and that I really wanted my dad to trade in his J reg. Hillman Hunter for a Monkeemobile**.

* I have
** He didn't

Michael Nesmith: Different Drum/Harmony Constant - 1972

Cold Turkey

I'd like to think that the opening words of my first blog of a new year set the tone for the remaining 360 odd days to come. But as last year ended on an all time low (for all sorts of reasons - some obvious, some not so), the bar is currently set pretty low. However, as this blog approaches its 10th anniversary I'm afraid I can't make any promises for 2020. To quote Doris Day, what will be, will be. A Happy New Year to you all.

.........

I spent much of the holidays re-watching Budgie - Keith Waterhouse's finest creation (surpassing even the brilliance of Billy Liar). I've name-checked Waterhouse and Budgie Bird in previous blogs so I'll concentrate, instead, on the theme music. 

Only two series were made by LWT - in 1971 & 1972. The first deployed a haunting instrumental, The Loner, credited to the Milton Hunter Orchestra. Budgie, played by Adam Faith, is seen chasing (always out of reach) pound notes - the programmes's overriding premise encapsulated in just 45 seconds.

For the second series we see the same footage, only this time to the backdrop of a beautiful song written by Ray Davies: Nobody's Fool is - to the untrained ear, the Kinks at the top of their game. Only it isn't. Well, it's Ray Davies singing, that much we do know, but according to the label on the accompanying Pye single, the artist is Cold Turkey. Go figure.

Cold Turkey - Nobody's Fool (1972)

From the bright busy streets off the Charing Cross Road

To the dark little alleys in old Soho

ABQ

Albuquerque is the most populated city in New Mexico; though not the capital - that accolade belongs to Santa Fe. You probably know it as the backdrop for Breaking Bad and its spin-off Better Call Saul. Or, if hot air ballooning is your thing, you'll be aware that the International Balloon Fiesta is held in ABQ every year. No? Then maybe, just maybe, if you're of a certain vintage, you might know it as the title of the best Neil Diamond song Neil Diamond neither wrote, nor sung.

Point Me in the Direction of Albuquerque was written by jobbing songwriter Tony Romeo (1938-1995) who gave this slice of seventies musical chutzpah to Keith Partridge and his mother, aka David Cassidy and Shirley Jones for their monster hit TV show. Come on, get happy. That's an order.

The Partridge Family: (Point Me in the Direction of) Albuquerque - 1972

You're Joking

I so need to see this film. Not least because Rock & Roll Part 2 is, allegedly, the glue that binds the movie together. I may, of course, be exaggerating, but from the reviews I've read (and the clip/trailer I've seen - below) it would lead me to believe that this defining glam anthem penned by Mike Leander and Paul Gadd (Gary G**tter) in 1972 is, again, finding a new audience. I've name-checked the song (and the singer too, for that matter) here before: long story short, we need to separate the art from the artist. People get prissy about the Leader (and rightly so), but banning his music from being played on national radio isn't the way forward. If we continue down that road then it's only a matter of time before Led Zeppelin suffer a similar fate; read Hammer of the Gods if you want a flavour of just how young Jimmy Page liked his groupies. 

Joker - 2019

When one door closes

James was here this weekend. Not for the first time we spoke about La Cabina (The Telephone Box): probably the scariest short film ever made. Reading up about it many years later it was an anti-Franco film that through its stark imagery (sometimes subtle, sometimes not) portrayed a Spain where, under his brutal dictatorship, men in suits were often taken away in full view. Franco died in 1975; La Cabina was made three years earlier.

As a postscript to our discussions this weekend, I came across this today: it's a clever parody used by Retevision - a Spanish telephone company - for a recent TV advert, and starring the same actor.

Cretin

I have precious little time for Elton John. I have even less for the present occupant of the White House.
The artist formerly known as Reginald Dwight wrote a couple of good tunes* way back when, but now appears to be more famous for his annual spend at Interflora. And his rug. Trump, on the other hand...

Don't get me started; really, don't. Suffice it to say you don't need me to tell you he's got a reading age of eight, and uses the word 'huge' a lot. Here, take a look at this. But not before you've read this - Donald Trump, speaking in Montana:

“I have broken more Elton John records, he seems to have a lot of records. And I, by the way, I don’t have a musical instrument. I don’t have a guitar or an organ. No organ. Elton has an organ. And lots of other people helping. No we’ve broken a lot of records. We’ve broken virtually every record.” Cretin.

Apparently there's a We Will Rock You style bio pic currently on release showcasing/shoe-horning some of Elton John's songs into a shoddy narrative. I'm sorry, but while there's a new Bill Nighy movie to catch, and the latest Toy Story, I'm afraid I'll be a no-show.

* Here's one of those tunes he wrote with Bernie Taupin. I'm not sure who sang this version** but it's not half bad.

Top of the Poppers - Rocket Man (1972)

** Reg himself used to sing on these early MFP/Pickwick soundalikes, ironically.

Oh! You Pretty Things

An early sighting of the Swedey McSwedeface*

Yesterday was a good day. A very good day, in fact. Our inaugural Sunday Vinyl Session at the Running Horse went really well: listening to Bowie's Hunky Dory - in its entirety - thru the house PA was absolutely spellbinding. (A big thank you to everyone who came out, and thank you, again, to Rich, my partner in crime.)
We're already building up a head of steam and have loads of ideas for upcoming albums and associated events/gigs on the back of it.
Watch this space, as they say.

In keeping with these crazy times we even had a meaningful vote - to whittle down our very longlist of potential albums for next month to a more manageable shortlist which we'll decide over the next day or two on social media.
I'm really hoping I won't have to go to Brussels to ratify the final choice.

But what made yesterday an especially good day was the visit of a blogging buddy of mine who has been reading and commenting on my blog (and me his) for nigh on a decade. But we'd never met. As I was setting the levels on the mixing desk a fella walked in the pub with a vinyl album shielding the lower half of his face* and extended his hand: the Swede. He'd travelled over 100 miles to listen to this album. That's how good Hunky Dory is. I'm afraid it meant even more chinwagging, more beer consumption and staying out all night (it's a dirty job, but someone had to do it). Roll on Session #2 - Sunday 12 May.

Hunky Dory. And a b**tleg

And from this fine album, here's what some people on Twitter are calling the best song. Ever. I'm not arguing with that.

David Bowie - Oh! You Pretty Things (1972)

* Swedey McSwedeface