Guilty as sin

Those songs you like but you hate yourself for liking. That. My head is full of 'em. And just when you think you can't possibly fit another Still the Same or Don't Stop Believing in, along comes a new arrival, a Johnny come lately, if you will. But unlike most other AOR/Yacht Rock guilty pleasures who generally announce their arrival by way of a Netflix or HBO soundtrack and thus showing you their credentials (Bob Seger and Journey did just that - and very successfully - in Ozark and The Sopranos respectively), this annoyingly catchy slice of soft rock seems to have attached itself like a barnacle to my latest predictive playlist without any of the above mentioned pleasantries. And yes, after it happened twice I 'hearted' it (or should that have been 'red-flagged'?) and so now it just drops in and out anytime it bloody well feels like it.

Eddie Money - Two Tickets to Paradise (1977)

Alison

Monday I'll have Thursday on My Mind

I've talked about our Vinyl Sessions a few times around here so shan't bore you any further regarding its inner machinations; save to tell you that on Thursday 27 January we're playing an album that, for many, defined 1977. Despite being catapulted into a world of punk My Aim is True made perfect sense. It had just the right amount of new wave credentials whilst at the same time proudly wearing its pop sensibility on its sleeve; Buddy Holly meets the Damned.  Costello really did have a foot in both camps. And of course both sides of this Stiff classic were chockablock full of raw and aggressive Elvis anthems with guitar riffs even snarling punks would have died for.  

But it was when the pace relented slightly and the band dropped down a gear  you could  hear how good these songs were. And none better than Alison. I've talked about this song before and, yes, the jury is still out regarding the storyline's alleged murderous intentions. Talk of putting out the big light and 'my aim is true' would, some say, lead you to think that Alison's days on this planet are numbered. The guitar solo is played by John McFee who at the time was in Clover, an American country outfit who in 1977 found themselves adrift in the UK in a down at heel London recording studio. Combined with Nick Lowe's production, McFee's deft solo is, like the song itself, a thing of rare beauty...

Elvis Costello - Alison (1977)

2020 Wrapped

I'm guessing a few people are sharing these right now: if you have a Spotify account then it's that time of year when they tell you what you've been listening to during the last 12 months (a lockdown special, you could say). And they really do crunch the numbers and drill down into the stats. It's quite anoraky so I'll cut to the headlines.

It would appear that these are the five tunes that have helped provide my musical life support in 2020. You'll find the backstory to most of them I'm sure in the small print of my various back issues. Except maybe this one: it came out at the height of punk and despite my new wave leanings at the time I absolutely adored it.  And still do, obviously, as it made #5 in this highly bespoke/made to measure chart. 

Space were a French outfit and this, their debut single, came out on the Pye label in that highly distinctive pink bag of theirs. And that, truth be known, just about sums up everything I know about this early slice of electronica. Imagine Daft Punk with keytars.

Space - Magic Fly (1977)

He Will be Prosecuted

1n 1977 Ian Dury and Graham Parker were on fire. Conveniently, both had the punk tag loosely attached to them - more for their attitude than their music it has to be said - and both used it as a launch pad to grow still further their fan base. And the pair had the foresight to employ graphics wizz Barney Bubbles to help sell their wares - his artwork and designs (remember the Blockheads logo, that was Bubbles) were integral to the punk and new wave scene and could be seen strewn all over the music press, on swathes of record sleeves, and, indeed, anywhere frequented by Bill Stickers.

Ian Dury, 1977 #BarneyBubbles pic.twitter.com/z5LWDZEKaT

— John Medd (@JohnMeddUK) January 15, 2020

@ItsGrahamParker 1977#BarneyBubbles pic.twitter.com/zeWf2ZLoXJ

— John Medd (@JohnMeddUK) January 15, 2020

Rumours

They're toilet chains, since you ask

We're only a fortnight away from our next Sunday Vinyl Session - our fifth, can you believe? And it's a yacht rock classic - Fleetwood Mac's Rumours.

When the Mac were writing and recording it their personal relationships were all over the place (everyone in the band, seemingly, was sleeping with each other), their level of drug taking was off the scale (cocaine really became 'a thing' in California in 1976) and emotions were close to breaking point. A perfect storm. Yet out of this hedonism - released in in February 1977 - came 11 perfectly formed songs which have formed the backbone of every Fleetwood Mac gig in the last 40 odd years. It cemented their career and meant that Stevie Nicks never had to wait on tables again.

Our friend Pippa Ward is presenting the afternoon - she'll tell the back story behind the album before playing it in full. And in the interval (twixt Side 1 & 2) Pippa will be singing some acoustic Mac songs live. I've got a couple lined up too. So, if you find yourself in Nottingham on Sunday 11th August, we'd love to see you.

Fleetwood Mac - Go Your Own Way (1977)

What happens next is private, it's also very rude

I'm absolutely thrilled to announce that our second Vinyl Session album will be Ian Dury's New Boots and Panties. After the success of our debut session (when we dissected David Bowie's Hunky Dory) we will, once again, be convening at Nottingham's Running Horse to listen to the Blockheads' 1977 classic - in full.

It would be rather wonderful if you could join us on Sunday May 12th; the Runner is a very convivial venue with a great PA and some rather splendid beers.

We kick-off at 2:00 p.m. whereupon lots of Dury and Dury associated chit-chat will, no doubt, ensue. And, of course, the album will be played in its entirety. If you can make it, please feel free to bring along any Blockhead related goodies - singles, ticket stubs etc. and we'll celebrate the quite unique talent of Ian Dury.

Ian Dury - Wake Up and Make Love with Me (1977)

Ian Dury (1942-2000)

To Be A Lover

I've noticed lately that a number of blogs I read on a regular basis have given over their Monday editions to a feature called Monday Long Song.*

I won't even begin to insult your intelligence by breaking that down for you; suffice it to say that a great song written by Booker T Jones c.1969 and given many makeovers thereafter (not least by Billy Idol in the mid 80s) was, for me, really brought to life back in 1977 when reggae singer George Faith agreed to record it for Lee 'Scratch' Perry. Easy now.

George Faith - To Be A Lover (Four seconds shy of 10 minutes)

* Including my good friend The Swede

Fooled Again

I made it all the way to l2 o'clock without reading about any spaghetti trees or safari parks breeding Velociraptors.

And neither did I tell the bloke in the corner shop this morning that his shoelaces were untied*.

Tom Petty - Fooled Again (1977) 

* Well OK, maybe I did

R is for Slade

Sladey McSladeface

Full bodied

Riggsby and I go back a long way: a very long way. We met at school in, I'm guessing, 1973 and were friends right from the get go. We discovered a lot of stuff for the first time together - you know the sort of things - sex and drugs and rock and roll, to name but three. Even though he now resides in Southern California, we still keep in regular contact. And I know he reads my blog.

Cue today's email from him; it landed first thing this morning whilst I was simultaneously wiping the sleep from my eyes and cursing the alarm. If you're familiar with Swedey McSwedeface, it will all make perfect sense. If not... where have you been?!"


Hi John,

This is a fun idea. "Slade Alive" was (one of) the first album(s) I bought, and one I listened to many times. Their version of 'Born to be Wild' was my favourite track. In the early days of record buying, I also bought Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" I am embarrassed to say. Happily, I did not hold onto that one. I got in the music paper Sounds with Electric Ladyland because I bought a copy that was warped, but the record store closed down and I was unable to exchange it. A very nice person at Sounds arranged for a flat copy to be sent to me.

Of the original albums I still have, I treasure the DAMNED particularly.

All taken in the kitchen, as requested. How's that?

Riggsby

Now with tongues

How's that? It's bloody marvellous, that's what it is. Thank you Riggsby - this one's for you:

The Damned - New Rose (1977) 

On yer Marcs...

MARC 7

T Rex's Slider is 45 years old this year; last week, in fact. I know that because The Swede told me.
However, a more sobering anniversary is lying in wait just around the corner: this September will mark 40 years since Marc Bolan bought the farm.

MARC 2

Cut down in his prime, Bolan was on the up, as opposed to on his uppers. He'd been on the skids for a couple of years. But he was back. He was fit. He'd even got his own TV show. And he'd got a new band to take on the road. For support he hooked up with a bunch of young punks and let them open for him. The Damned didn't disappoint. And neither did Bolan.

Who knew what was round the corner - Bolan certainly didn't. Could he have been a contender again? I think he still had a trick or two left up those elfin sleeves of his.

I Want Kandinsky

Bubbles: Music for Pleasure (1977)

Kandinsky: Composition VIII (1923)

Kandinsky: Transverse Lines (1923)

Barney Bubbles, the man who put the pictures in picture sleeves, drew his influences from far and wide; and long ago. His sleeve for Generation X's 1977 debut single stretched way back to 1924.

Likewise, when he was commissioned to design the sleeve for the Damned's difficult second album, Music for Pleasure, again from '77, Bubbles retreated back to the jazz age. Here are three terrific pieces by Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944) that Bubbles must have had on his mind when he took the gig.

I love Kandinsky. I want his stuff hanging on every wall in my new house*. Anyone got the Guggenheim's number?

* Footnote: whilst writing this post earlier this morning, I blagged a (very reasonably priced) Kandinsky copy.

Kandinsky: Black and Violet (1923)

'45' (1924-1977)

45: Berlewi (1924) 

45: Bubbles (1977)

45: Your Generation

The Number One Son told me last week that one of his neighbours is currently sporting a giant Generation X '45' framed print in his flat - James isn't stalking the guy, this piece of artwork is so large it can be seen from space, apparently. Now, I know a thing or two about Generation X: 'I think you'll find that particular design was the brain child of Tony James' (Gen X bass player and joint CEO with Billy Idol), I said with that tone that fathers adopt when handing down vital nuggets of rock history down the male bloodline. Wrong, wrong and wrong.

45: Idol

45: James

If the graphic artist, sleeve designer and troubled soul that was Barney Bubbles (1942-1983) had been eavesdropping our conversation, he would have been yelling in my ear that, actually, the Generation X masthead was one of his - Tony James would just knock out copies when he was screen-printing band tee shirts.

However, I think Barney, real name Colin Fulcher, would be the first to admit that he was influenced by Polish artist Henryk Berlewi (1894-1967), whose 1924 work 'Composition in Red, Black and White' (at the top of this blog) was surely the inspiration behind Barney's 1977 iconic sleeve for Generation X's first single.

45: Derwood

Every picture tells a story

In 1977, after beating the Auld Enemy at Wembley, the rampaging Scots (The Daily Mail's words, not mine) decided to invade the pitch. Nothing unusual in the seventies, but this was the pitch invasion to end all pitch invasions: they dug the turf up, smashed both crossbars and then took woodwork and sods back with them over the border. And the hapless Police just looked on. I remember John Motson being incensed; he wasn't the only one.

It's nearly forty years later and, after tomorrow's referendum result, we may once again feel slightly different about our tartan neighbours. It looks like they're all set to start dismantling something (we thought was) far more sturdy than a couple of sets of goalposts. For what it's worth honorary Scot, Rod Stewart, who found himself on the pitch that day has pitched his wagon to the Better Together campaign. As long as he doesn't make a song and dance about it.

I always get chocolate stains on my pants

In 1977 you couldn't move for punk rockers. They'd taken over the country. They'd taken over our airwaves and they'd taken over our TV screens. It was wall to wall Clash, Sex Pistols and The Damned. It was Anarchy.

Maybe in a parallel universe the punks really did take over. In reality, apart from the aforementioned stalwarts, the UK punk and new wave scene was essentially John Peel's nocturnal Top Gear radio show and Billy Idol curling his top lip and miming on Top of the Pops. And Sounds on the newsstand every Thursday, of course.

Which is why, despite numerous attempts to rewrite music history (1976 - Ground Zero anyone?), much of the old guard carried on with business as usual. Not least Thin Lizzy. Their leader, Phil Lynott, like Pete Townshend, befriended many of the young upstarts and actually found a lot of common ground. Lynott would go on to front The Greedies with Steve Jones and Paul Cook from the rudderless Sex Pistols and play both Lizzy and Pistols favourites; you couldn't slide a cigarette paper between them.

In 1977, whilst the music industry was allegedly knee deep in gob, Thin Lizzy released Bad Reputation - one of their most commercial albums. And on it was one of the catchiest tunes put out as a single all year. It has finger clicking. It has a sax break. It positively sashays off the turntable; I swear Brian Downey, Lizzy's drummer, is using brushes. Dancing in the Moonlight has it all.

Taking a Flyer

Exhibit 'A'

Also Exhibit 'A'

In November 1977 Graham Parker was criss-crossing the UK promoting his Stick to Me album; you may remember the advertising space his record company took out in all the weekly music rags - Sounds, NME, Melody Maker etc. What you may not remember is that the following month The Next Band, a none too shabby power trio, were playing Grantham Guildhall; I doubt very much that you'll have heard of them, but I think you'll recognise the flyer I liberated that night. As far as I'm aware Next were not in any way related to Mr. Parker, but they obviously took a shine to his artwork.

Jubilation

  A Royal knees up, 1977 style 

We've been invited to a street party on Monday; not living on the street in question we shall probably feel like interlopers. I hope that by taking along a bottle of something nice and a loaf of Medd's Bread, the natives will give us their blessing.

Thirty five years ago the residents of Rushcliffe Road closed off their street and laid out the pasting tables and bunting. Living at number 17, my credentials were not in question; they even put me on the wheels of steel - in charge of the decks all afternoon.

Working out of a horsebox and swigging Top Deck, I proceeded to inflict my record collection on an unsuspecting street full of flag waving Royalists. I don't remember too much (though we were all given a shiny commemorative coin) but I can recall, vividly, that, despite it being the summer of punk, this class of '77 weren't digging The Sex Pistols (it was late in the day, I couldn't resist): any accusations that she ain't no human being were denied vigorously by the locals.

So, I quickly flipped it over and banged on the B-side.

I was relieved of my duties shortly thereafter.

1970-1977

I never tire of looking at photographs of The Beatles, especially when I stumble across ones I've never seen (or can't remember seeing) before. Earlier today I found this little gem.

To the untrained eye you'd say it was lifted from the 1967-1970 Blue Album. But look again. It's obviously taken at Manchester Square in Marylebone (EMI's London offices), however, it's been taken from a diiferent angle and on a different day. I know it's a boy thing; if I was to show the picture to my GLW and say 'can't you see George is wearing a different jacket?' I'd get 'the look' and probably an audible sigh which, over the years, I've translated into English: it means 'grow up.'
Which is probably why I won't be showing her this photograph either.

Before they demolished EMI (the building*, not the label) another four piece combo had their mugshots taken from the bottom of the stairwell.

* I'm assured that the rail Macca is leaning on now resides in his office.