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.
No need to turn to page 26; he's a bit nearer than that
Baxter Dury was interviewed in 2005. The Beatles cropped up...
"My old man rejected the Beatles and white rock'n'roll from England, he was pretty dismissive of it, so you grow up precociously being dismissive of it yourself. There is something I still hate about the Beatles, but when you're trying to write songs you're an idiot if you don't acknowledge them, 'cause they're brilliant."
In the same way he wouldn't be able to sing Helter Skelter anymore, or I'm Down, Macca would struggle to reach a good 90% of the notes he shrieked when he covered Ian Dury's Partial to Your Abracadabra. It was for a Dury charity album released the year after his death - Brand New Boots and Panties - with the likes of McCartney, Suggs and Robbie Williams covering the great man's tunes (many with the Blockheads as house band). This was probably the last time Sir Paul of Kintyre really tore it up.
Paul McCartney - Partial to Your Abracadabra (2001)
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.
Getting to Amsterdam these days is a piece of cake (no, not that sort of cake) - easier than London, almost: thirty minutes to the airport, a short hop to Schipol followed by a ten minute train ride to Dam Square. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Tim and I had both been before, but for some reason we'd never landed on Dutch soil together. Until Wednesday. Our trip had been planned for a while and was essentially a jolly-up to go and see Baxter Dury. Dury is a big deal in Europe and is treated like royalty in France, apparently. We'd got tickets to see him in the world famous (it really is) Paradiso Club: when the Stones played two semi-acoustic gigs there in '95 Keith Richards said they were the best shows the band had ever played; Keef probably says this a lot, however, recordings from both nights did end up on their Stripped album later that year.
The Paradiso is a converted church building and is equally as magnificent inside and out. It's virtually in the middle of the city and barely a five minute walk from our digs. So, bearing this in mind, coupled with the fact that we bought our tickets three months ago and bearing in mind also the fact that we'd been in town since lunchtime, there could be no excuse for rocking up late to this gig of all gigs. And you'd be right - no excuse whatsoever. Erm. Well, it's like this. Hang on a minute, I don't have to explain this to you.
"What time's he on?" The clue is on the ticket
Suffice it to say we only missed a couple of his early numbers - I blame strong liquor and pretty girls on bikes - and the set he turned in was immaculate. Baxter is a consummate front man. Like his old man before him, you can't take your eyes off the fella (well, maybe just for a second or two - to enjoy his rather lovely keyboard players standing either side of him).
When the show finished we could still hear music, so we padded up the stairs into the main auditorium and caught The Vamps playing to a room full (and I mean full) of teen girls screaming their bloody heads off. It was like Hard Day's Night meets Rollermania. And, yes, I know, apart from me and Tim, nobody in the room would get that reference. Not least the young kid who went down like a sack of spuds. The gig was temporarily halted, the houselights came up and the paramedics were in like Flynn (another obsolete reference, I know) administering mouth to mouth and, hey, back on with the show; our cue to leave.
A good night was had by all. I remember a lot of red lights and not much else. We emerged from our digs late the following morning for a classy breakfast in a classy joint (in a classy joint) followed by more Dutch beer, before saying goodbye to the city and a promise that we'd be back real soon.
It can't be easy being Baxter Dury. His dad's legacy must follow him at every turn; when he releases a new record, goes to a party, or even when he just nips to the corner shop for a pint of milk. Until now, that is. I commented recently that with his latest release, The Prince of Tears, he's finally Baxter Dury. No longer Baxter Dury, son of Ian. The shoes that once seemed impossible to fill, fit perfectly now.
He goes out on tour in the Spring. Firstly under his own steam, and then opening for Noel Gallagher. I'm gonna try and get along. I think his time has finally come.
Here he is performing Whispered, Pleasure and Palm Trees from his 2014 album It's a Pleasure.
Merry Christmas from Nottingham. Yes, this is the card I've been mostly sending this year. Wherever you may be at this time of year and whoever you are spending it with, have a good one. You can read about my ghosts of Christmas past here, should you so wish, together with the festive tunes that tend to get played at Medd Towers. A big thank you, once again, to everyone who took the time to knock on my front door this year and shared a pot of tea with me - I enjoyed your company; appointments not necessary and the kettle's always on!
Ian Dury - Sweet Gene Vincent
Released as a single 25 November 1977; failed to chart
The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time*. We all have glimpses into the future. But, thankfully, glimpses are all they ever can be. I look out into the front garden and see the For Sale board that went up last week - my crystal ball is a bit foggy at the moment, but I can, vaguely, make out a brand new start. And, following James' lead (and thanks to my Irish heritage) it will still be as an EU citizen; a dual passport will be so much easier going forward into this post-Brexit apocalypse. As for what happens after that, it will, as Lincoln said, unfold day by day. Because, let's face it, who would *want* to know beyond that? Not me, that's for sure. * Abraham Lincoln (the quote meister)
