Showing posts with label Catweazle Club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Catweazle Club. Show all posts

Wednesday, 25 June 2014

Well starred and signed

PP Woodlands is one of Leeds' finest exports. His songs combine a turn of phrase rooted in West Yorkshire with tunes that get under your skin and stay there. His recorded output, however, was limited to a debut platter from 1971 that should have kept him in hookers and gin without ever picking up a guitar again (Sugarman, anybody?) and a cassette only live album made three years later: Live at The Catweazle caught Woodlands at the peak of his powers. Recorded in front of no more than 100 people, you can hear the effect his songs had on a crowd who knew they were in the presence of a legend. Unfortunately I can no longer play the recording on my trusty Teac tape deck - the ferrous oxide has practically disintegrated.

Instead, I've paid homage to the great man and recorded a lo-fi version of the third track on the album. It's called Love Will and is obviously written about somebody very special in his life.

Sunday, 11 May 2014

Displacement

It's OK lads, you go ahead without me
displace .v. move from the proper or usual position
I tweeted a while ago that one of the reasons I was probably never asked to join The Rolling Stones was my disinclination to living out of a suitcase. That and the fact that me and Mick would be constantly arguing about the merits of opening the set with Miss You.

However, from time to time, being a freelancer, my work takes me away from home. Which is fine if I can see an end date; I can chalk the days off in true cartoon prison style. My destinations, however, are nowhere near as glamorous as a Stones world tour and my digs probably not as decadent as The Hyatt in West Hollywood. But it's OK. It might not be rock and roll, but I'm learning to like it.

Chucking the guitar on the back seat of the car every Monday morning helps: I've lost track of the number of pubs, clubs and open mics I've found on my travels. I've met some great people and have always been humbled by the reception my songs get in an alien environment. Not least The Catweazzle Club in Oxford. Decked out like a harem with candles, joss sticks and leather settees it's probably one of the best venues I've played in. And playing whilst seated on a gold lamé chair was fun too.

I met a lovely German girl in the interval. Anna was from Munich and her English was perfect. I told her, however, that despite her total command of the language she probably wouldn't understand a word of my Camberwick Green song. I dedicated it to her anyway.

Speaking of songs, I'm really quite excited about an upcoming songwriting workshop with Clive Gregson. I've been a big fan of Clive's since his days with Any Trouble. And I must have been to see Gregson & Collister a couple of dozen times in the late eighties and early nineties. It's been held in someone's house and after the workshop, in true pop-up style, Clive's playing a house concert. As I said, I'm getting excited about it. Almost as excited as I am about supporting Dodgy at York Fibbers on 13 June. But more about that nearer the time.