Apparently, when Angus Young of AC/DC heard Sad Café's My Oh My he said it was the best record the Stones had ever made. I know what he means; I came to it late (and by late I mean within the last few weeks) and was convinced - when I first heard the vocals kick in - it was Karl Wallinger and World Party. And anyone who knows Wallinger will attest that his Goodbye Jumbo album contains (at least) three Stones cast-offs. File under 'what goes around comes around'. Judge for yerself.
I did last month's Thursday Vinyl on autopilot; I'd not been back in the country long and sleep had been a stranger to me for the previous 48 hours. Fair play to Alan, my second in command, who brought the room up to speed with all things Devo while I nodded sagely, as opposed to off.
This month, however, I'll be buzzing. Wide eyed and bushy tailed I'll be telling you why I think John Cooper Clarke's 1980 album Snap, Crackle & Bop is more punk than the Pistols, more cathartic than the Clash. (And more dastardly than the Damned.) Evidently Chickentown and Beasley Street alone prove that JCC has guaranteed his top table status along side Lydon, Strummer et al.
Come on down as Mr. Crowther used to say. It's free and it's fun. And, like the bloke who can't pronounce his f's and th's, you can't say fairer than that. Even if you can't make it to Nottingham's liveliest arts centre on the 28th, tell me what album you'd like me to play for a future session and I'll see if we can't put it under the microscope and marvel at it.
Perversely, for today's musical interlude, I've deliberately not gone with a cut from 'Snap', instead I've opted for an absolute banger from Inspiral Carpets. But you won't be disappointed - check out Doctor Reliable's cameo at 2:34.
Inspiral Carpets ft. John Cooper Clarke - Let You Down (2014)
There are a number of songs I don't need to hear again. And at least two of them were written by John Lennon. Imagine is one; mawkish. Woman is another; anodyne. The latter was lifted from Lennon's Double Fantasy album just days after he was assassinated, and put out as a single. Whereupon it went straight to Number One; of course it did.
Double Fantasy was Lennon's first album in over five years. He'd turned his back on music in 1975 and had been working part-time for Warburtons. His new record, released only three weeks before an infamous autograph hunter lay in wait for the ex-Beatle outside the Dakota building, had generally been ignored by the press and public alike. Mark Chapman, however, changed all that.
But if you take Lennon's killing out of the equation, it's a very ordinary album; considering it was made by a very extraordinary man. It's slushy for the most part and a bit of a let down. With the exception of one track. I'm Losing You had been demo'd by Lennon with members of Cheap Trick and it was John at his lowdown best; dirty John, if you will.
But when it came to the finished studio version the rough edges had all been sanded down and his studio musicians had taken all the life out of it. Shame on them.
The Cheap Trick version appeared about 20 years later tucked away on an anthology. And it's still classic Lennon, sounding just how you've always wanted John Lennon to sound. Imagine if the rest of the album had been this good.
John Lennon with Cheap Trick - I'm Losing You (1980)
Cod Reggae: the clue's in the name. If there was an FM station that, heaven forfend, only played this watered down white man's reggae it would probably have the first two Police albums on a permanent loop with 10cc's Dreadlock Holiday thrown in for good measure. And maybe Nice 'n' Sleazy by The Stranglers if they were really pushing the boat out and ting.
Don't get me wrong, if it's done right it can be served up as a delicacy; but for every White Man In Hammersmith Palais there's a Reggae Like It Used To Be (Paul Nicholas really was old enough to know better). Likewise, for every Big Six (Judge Dread was actually on the Trojan label) you've got The Tide Is High - Blondie stylee. Or even worse, Seaside Woman by Linda McCartney; that's right, her take on reggae was about as authentic as her sausages. And before the hate mail comes in, I will gladly put forward Macca's C Moon and praise it to the hilt. Skanking.
Mettlers usually stay well clear of this sort of thing. But Girl were different. That's why I always had a soft spot for them - especially this pleasant little ditty lifted from their 1980 debut album, Sheer Greed: my Cod Reggae guilty pleasure.
