Listing

I think one of the most interesting periods of the Sweet's career, funnily enough, was when Brian Connolly had been handed his sandwiches in a road map. Did they miss their blonde bombshell singer? Of course. But did they miss his erratic drunken shenanigans - missed gigs, bum notes and generally a lush who became 110% unreliable? No, of course they didn't. They could all sing (who do you think had provided those drop dead harmonies over the years?) so in 1980 with the addition of Gary Moberley on keys they flew out to Toronto for three months, played a few gigs and recorded their second album without BC - Waters Edge. I loved it. But then I would, wouldn't I? It was a radio friendly album that didn't have any hits on it! But hey, who needs hits? Oh, yeah: the record company. The band were in trouble. If they were a ship they were definitely taking on water (quite ironic given the title of the new record); within a year they finally sank, but not before playing some memorable low key dates in the UK where they were plugging their final album Identity Crisis. I saw them at Nottingham's Rock City on that tour and, a number of years later, chatted to Andy Scott about it: he remembered it well - someone threw a pint pot at him on stage that night. Complete with beer. It drowned him.

 ★

I loved the 'futuristic' telly on the cover of Waters Edge with the band's logo as an aerial and the power trio all bubble-permed up. I saw a similar little TV (the JVC Video Sphere) in a retro shop in Stockport (top of page) between Christmas & New Year and was immediately reminded of Messrs. Priest, Scott & Tucker. I think The Swede would have approved.

The Sweet - Tell the Truth (1980)

I hear you calling

I've told The Swede before, on numerous occasions, if he doesn't nail his ideas down, I'll nick 'em; I'm dodgy; I'm a geezer. And so on Monday he flagged up what would have been  Brian Connolly's 80th birthday and at the same time telling everyone how fab Healer by the Sweet was. I also recall Ernie saying in the comments section that someone in TS's catchment area has probably got at least 40 versions of this mid-70s solid slab of Sweetness. Not sure about that, but I have got a rather tasty nine minute version which I hope the TS digs as much as I do. I shan't map out my Sweet credentials here, though feel free to take a gleg at both the band and BC on my sidebar.

The Sweet - Healer (Munich Mix) - 1976

★

Brian Connolly (1945-1997)

The Swede

TS: currently shaking his groove thang to Tsunami

As I mentioned yesterday, as part of our upcoming #BlogCon25 meet up in Bristol (following previous successes in Edinburgh, York & Newcastle), I thought it'd be nice to quickly profile this year's runners and riders.

Many of our attendees are very private people, often flying so far under the radar/living off grid it's a wonder I ever stumbled upon them in the first place. I shall, therefore, keep any intros to a bare minimum and hope that in the quick fire Q&As I did with them I haven't betrayed any confidences. And, for the record, yes I have signed NDAs with all of them.  

First up, my good friend The Swede. TS has had a presence in the blogosphere since 2008 and is seen by many as the Father of the House. As well as being at the inaugural BC back in 2022, he's also come up the country (or is that across?) to meet-up in my manor - the fair city of Nottingham. So without further ado...

* What was the first record you bought with your own money? 

'The Slider' by T.Rex, which was also the subject of the very first Swedey McSwedeface if I'm not at all mistaken. 

 * What got you into blogging? 

Our mutual blogging chum C introduced me to it. We worked together in a record shop two thirds of a lifetime ago and stayed in contact by letter and Christmas card thereafter. BlogCon22 was the first time we'd actually met up in around 35 years. It was emotional I can tell you. 

 * Do you find writing cathartic?

I've been struggling, really struggling, for a number of years now, but when it flows, yes. 

 * Do you have a favourite record store and or bookshop? 

The marvellous Newham Bookshop on the Barking Road in East Ham. My advice is not to go there with the intention of just killing time, it simply won't work - you'll come out carrying an armful, I guarantee. When you do leave the shop and want somewhere to sit and crack the spine of a new purchase, The Boleyn is just a few steps away. It's a magnificent London boozer with good food, comfy chairs and a free jukebox full of corking tunes. And if they happen to be serving Five Points Best when you drop in, your day couldn't possibly get any better. Sounds of the Universe in Soho is another place to actively avoid if you want to hang on to your readies. It's an impossibly great record shop that I defy any music lover to depart from empty handed. 

 * Do you sing in the shower?

I sing (and/or whistle) all the time, much to the irritation of housemates/girlfriends/work colleagues down the years. 

 * Indian or Chinese? 

 Indian. 

 * I know you're a coffee connoisseur but world production of coffee beans has been halted permanently (something to do with Trump/Musk). What do you reach for in its place? 

The very thought is too horrific to contemplate, but since we're mercifully talking hypothetically, it would be Earl Grey Tea. 

 * Beatles or the Stones? 

 God knows I love you Keef, but it's The Fabs all day long. 

 *  Bus travel - top deck or bottom?

For the first few years of my life I gave my parents very little choice in the matter, darting up the stairs and heading to the front, pretending I was the bus driver. These days, what with my gammy knees and all, I'm more than happy to plop into the nearest available seat downstairs. 

 * You've just taken delivery of a time machine. Where and when are you going to?

Good grief! I could lose a great many hours overthinking this one, so I won't think at all and leave you with an answer I've given to a similar question before - 1975/76, following Bob Dylan's Rolling Thunder Tour around America. 

 * Which of the following statements is true? 

 - Your local village hall is hosting a gig next week but can't decide whether to put on Robyn Hitchcock or Bruce Springsteen. The Ents. Committee is split down the middle and has given you the casting vote. 

- Your blogging handle harks back to when you were selling fruit and veg on Walthamstow Market in the early 70s which coincided with a massive uptick in Londoner's swede and turnip consumption.

Sadly both statements are fake news, though this conundrum would be a no brainer - Hitchcock every time. If, however, the choices were Robyn or Bob (Dylan), I'd obviously choose the latter, safe in the knowledge that Mr Hitchcock would be standing next to me in the audience.

From the age of nine or 10, I was indeed dispatched (with my even younger cousin in tow) to Walthamstow Market every Saturday to pick up shopping including fresh bread and veg, although, try as they might, my folks couldn't get me to eat any actual vegetables at all, save for the humble potato. They even tried the old chestnut of hiding mashed swede beneath my mashed potatoes, but I was having none of it. Interestingly, other items on my regular weekly shopping list in 1969/70 included Esso Blue paraffin for our stove heaters and Guards cigarettes for my Dad. Different times.

 ★

Thank you, TS. Really looking forward to buying you a pint in Bristol.

It'll Come Around

My fellow bloggers should know me well enough by now to know that if their ideas aren't nailed to the floor I'm very likely to beg, steal or borrow them at a moment's notice. Then, once I've filed the serial numbers off, it goes out under my moniker. If you don't believe me just ask this man.

Rol, over at My Top 10, calls his current batch of posts Positive Songs for Negative Times; I can see no earthly reason why I should mess with this most self explanatory of titles, so here, for one week only (until I decide to do it again) is my choice for PS4NT - a beautiful song from Ireland that I think fits Rol's criteria perfectly.

The Whileaways - It'll Come Around (2018)

Sing it Again, Ray

It's back. Swedey McSwedeface - the series I nicked shamelessly from my good friend The Swede - makes a welcome return. And who better to kick things off than Raymond Murray. Ray is my older (and, some would say, wiser) cousin who, among many other life skills, has been known to drink a pint of Guinness in less than two gulps whilst simultaneously whistling Danny Boy. Added to which, his chart knowledge covering the period 1971 to 1975 is simply unparalleled. Quite apt then that the first album Ray bought with his own corn was released slap bang in the middle of the above mentioned 'golden era'. In your own words, Ray...

The title immediately reveals my first album purchase as a compilation. That was a tactic of mine in the cash strapped, limited pocket money era of the 1970s. Splashing out the best part of two quid needed a guaranteed return. In 1973 none of us could have imagined just how often and for how long Rod would indeed sing it again.
Mandolin Wind, Reason to Believe, and Handbags and Gladrags contribute to a magnificent Side 1, with Bernie Taupin's Country Comfort a worthwhile addition. But my generation just can't get away from Maggie May as quintessential Rod - superb lyrically and an early challenger for Song of the 70s.
Side 2 was almost obliged to be less spectacular, and so it proved. All things considered though I reckon it was £1.99 well spent.

Rod Stewart (with Ronnie Wood) - Mandolin Wind

Tommy this and Tommy that

I may have a thing about Led Zeppelin tribute bands; I said as much here, and here. And, after my recent to the west coast of Scotland, I could soon be hurtling down a similar rabbit hole with Clash copycats.

It comes on the back of me seeing the above flyer in a cracking little music boozer in Dumfries - imagine a low rent O2 crossed with the Clansman and you've got the picture. And what a picture. The Tommy Guns have utilised that iconic photo of Don Letts squaring up to the rozzers during the Notting Hill Carnival Riots of 1976 to great effect.

Like Zeppelin, names for Clash tribute bands almost fall out of the sky: Radio Clash; Police & Thieves; the White Riots; London Calling; Complete Control; They Shoot Pigeons Don't They; Combat Rock; Burning London; the list goes on.

As an aside, I used to work alongside a fella called Tommy Dunne. And if you listen carefully to this masterpiece by the New Piccadillys* you'll hear not only Complete Control, but also a final Tommy Gun flourish.

The New Piccadillys - Complete Control (2019)

* A huge thank you to The Swede for pointing me in the direction of this slice of brilliantness (seeing Joe and Mick behind the glass in Supermarionation is, as TS said, genius).

Leave Your Stepping Stones Behind

Bob Dylan recorded It's All Over Now, Baby Blue in 1965. And since then it's been covered by every man and his dog. Far be it for me to tell you which versions are worth seeking out, and those that belong on the turkey farm - I'll let you make your own minds up.
That said, I am rather partial to Chris Robinson's version. I'm not too sure if the former Black Crowe ever released it officially, but this was recorded in a New York radio station a couple of years back. Check the beards out, too.

Chris Robinson Brotherhood - It's All Over Now, Baby Blue (2016)

We're a man down: one of our blogging fraternity -  The Swede - is not too good at the moment. I'm sure we all wish him a speedy return to form, and hope he's back in harness before too long.

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

Black Sky

"Can we make the sky black? Like Justin did."

God bless Twitter; yes, like any branch of social media, it's got its fair share of nut jobs and knuckle draggers. But no more than you'll find on your average high street or indeed Clapham omnibus. And although to the untrained eye it may appear to be full of nothing but Brexit, and kitten videos (and, to be fair, it's hard to remember a time when it wasn't), you'll come across nuggets like this:

Blimey. Now there's a thing. https://t.co/3xtGHOMmlY

— The Swede (@_The_Swede) March 22, 2019

Hands up if you knew that Justin Hayward's promo video for his 1978 single Forever Autumn was the prototype for Bowie's Ashes to Ashes. My hand would have remained firmly down at the back of the class. Whilst we're on the subject of Hayward, Pete Paphides played an extract from Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds on his Soho Radio show this week. It was a particularly gloomy passage - that's H. G. Wells for you - and afterwards Paphides came out with a simple solution for making this particular concept album a little less miserable: instead of Richard Burton doing the narration, they should've given the gig to Ronnie Corbett. How wonderful would that have been?

David Bowie - Ashes to Ashes (1980)

Fly

All Medd Cons

Paul Weller was in town this week. For some reason I didn't fancy it; I'm kicking myself now.

I wonder if he played anything off All Mod Cons? You're probably aware that this year marks its ruby anniversary. Christ, where did the last 40 years go? (I can remember clearly the day I bought my copy) - the worrying thing being that 40 years prior the Second World War hadn't yet broken out. Stop the world I want to get off.

Anyway, you can keep Down in the Tube Station at Midnight and 'A' Bomb in Wardour Street - if I'd been at the Arena on Tuesday night I'd have asked him, politely, to "play that silly little poem you wrote when you didn't know any better." The words are naff, obviously, but it has a certain charm nonetheless. Chances are he'd have probably pretended not to hear me, but I think Fly would make any Weller Top 10 (there he goes with the lists again), don't you?

The Jam - Fly (1978)

Blue Days, Black Nights

Pray silence

Rejoice! The mighty Pugwash are just days away from releasing their seventh album; once again the airwaves will be awash with the majestic, heavenly sounds of Dublin's finest.

Several journals and blogs have got in early and are, already, heralding this brand new piece of plastic as the band's finest hour. Until I get my hands on a copy I can call my very own, and post my scores on the doors, I'll defer judgement. Instead I'm going to leave you with Thomas Walsh's tribute to a songwriting hero of his and, I suspect, many of you who secretly adore the luscious, and often luxurious, sounds of the Electric Light Orchestra.

Pugwash - Telephone Line

P1LEY

I is for Elvis

Ian Pile - Piley to his mates - needs no introduction on this blog. Suffice it to say he is one half of the excellent Mondo & Piley monthly PODROPHEN1A podcast which you can find here . I was thrilled to receive this email in my inbox last week:

Hi John,

Hope you are well. Please find attached a pic of me with the first album bought with my own money.

Had numerous albums before this (Bugs Bunny, Sooty, Pinky and Perky, few 'Top of the Pops' albums), but all purchased as presents or nagged a parent into buying! Mum was a 'middle period' Elvis fan. The films and soundtracks mostly. I was an avid Top 40 listener on Sundays, and was diggin' the mid/late 70s Elvis singles (Moody Blue, Way Down). So much in fact that I recorded them off the radio (is there any higher praise than that?!). Anyway this rockier style didn't feature on anything my mum had, so i trooped up to Woolworths in Hadleigh to see what i could find. The recent RCA albums were all out of my league pricewise (I did get them all in the following few years), so was drawn to the cheapy MFP/Pickwick/Camden spinner rack. There were a number of Elvis albums less than half the price of the RCA ones so decided to get one of those instead. In my innocence i picked US Male purely because it had the most recent picture of him on the cover. So obviously this would be more recent tunes!!

I had no idea these were all just rehash after rehash of old tunes. Turned out most of 'em were on my mum's albums anyway! Still, the great news was it had Burning Love on it. Still to this day one of my all time favourite Elvis songs. 

Cheers mate!

Ian

ELV1S: BURN1NG LOVE

J is for Herbie

For the sake of today's post title, I was really hoping Hancock clocked in at 30 mins

Another day, another Swedey McSwedeface. It was only a matter of time till the Number One Son wanted in on the action. As he says himself, below, if this was 'My First CD', it would have thrown up something very different.

Dad,

As I recall, this is meant to be the "first LP bought with your own money", and this is that. 

This is 5 years or so into my record buying/acquiring life, but all of those were CDs, and the majority were birthday presents or pocket money purchases. A mix of peer influence and your advice had worked me through the likes of Blink-182, NOFX, Sabbath, and Zeppelin up to then, all on small shiny discs. 

By the time I was 16 I was studying Monday to Friday in the city, and working there at weekends too. As a borderline pretentious literature-reading, arthouse-viewing teen, I bought a turntable and made the most of the jazz exposure I'd received through both you and my piano mentor, Steve, and fully embraced the world of fusion with this epic. Bass clarinet, Fender Rhodes, and a funny time signature or two set me on the road to the kind of musical madness I take for granted to this day. 

James
www.jamesmedd.co.uk

Herbie Hancock - Mwandishi (1971)

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) 

C is for Clash

I received a lovely email earlier today from C over at Sun Dried Sparrows. I'm sure she won't mind me reprinting it here - though I have taken her full name off the bottom!

Hi John 

Hope all is good with you! It was a lovely idea you had to gather some more 'Swedey McSwedeface'* shots from fellow bloggers recently. If you're still on the lookout for some, then here's mine! I finally managed to track down a vinyl copy of this, the first album I ever bought 40 years ago. Sadly I got rid of the original a long time ago to replace with a CD, kinda wish I'd kept it now, just for posterity. This one's not the same issue - I distinctly remember 'The Clash' being printed in a vibrant orange, practically fluorescent, whereas it's red here - but I paid under a tenner for it and it was lovely to be reminded of it full-size. If only it wasn't so tatty (mine was well-loved but well-kept too) and didn't smell like a damp cellar, where it's probably been for the last 40 years. I'll never forget hearing Janie Jones for the first time when I asked them to put Side One on in my local record shop, Startime. I'd saved up my pocket money for months. I just had to have it.

Thanks and all the best 

C

Here's a version of Janie Jones that caught my eye recently. I hope it meets with C's approval.

Pris - Janie Jones

* In case anyone doesn't know what a Swedey McSwedeface is.

Three Faced

It's called 'Doing a Swede' - named after the young man who thought it would be a hoot to have your photograph taken holding the first album you ever bought with your own money; whilst at the same time doing a rudimentary version of the Dance of the Seven Veils.

Anyway, as you can see, Mr. Swede lost his cherry to Marc Bolan, I took the Sweet behind the bike sheds and Alyson, well...it would appear Alyson let Mr. Presley into her boudoir after lights out. Allegedly.

If you still have your first 33 and you don't mind sharing a Polaroid of yourself in the kitchen clutching said artefact (looking only mildly silly), then now's the time to say 'There's no time like the present' and ping the image over to Medd Towers.

I'd particularly like to hear (and see) regular (and irregular) readers' debut platters. So Mondo &Piley, C, Martin, Mark, Skirky,  Rol and anyone else out there who can still locate that first piece of black plastic they bought in 19 Seventy/Eighty, come on down. 

The Swede's Biggest Hit

This album too is 45 

I've nicked the idea for today's post from the magnificent Swede. I won't even pretend that I put an ounce of original thought into today's 250 word offering.
I couldn't even be arsed to come up with a different way of holding the sleeve up for the photo shoot; it's basically an original high quality Swede garment with the designer label ripped out and my own (inferior) brand stitched poorly into the back of the neck - the kind that'll make you itch like a man on a fuzzy tree.

So, the Sweet. What can I say about them that I haven't bored you all to death with a million times before? Suffice it to say that The Sweet's Biggest Hits was the first album I bought with my own money. And in 1972 that was a whole hill of beans, well £2.18 anyway. And I played it ten times a day. Minimum. Why wouldn't I? Unlike singles which needed flipping over every three minutes (a bit like pancakes) RCA Victor SF 8316 (I still remember the catalogue number) would play for nearly twenty whole minutes before I had to drag myself off the bed and put the needle on the other side.

And I love the way it's called Biggest. It stops at Wig Wam Bam: less than four weeks after its release they would put out Blockbuster (#1), closely followed by Hell Raiser (#2) and Ballroom Blitz (#2). Now they were big: combined sales of those three singles alone was in excess of 1,000,000 copies (and that's just the UK): monster big.
Anyway, I'll be keeping an eye on Swede Towers and see if I can't recycle some more of his ideas and cut and paste them over here. Keep 'em peeled.

Wig Wam Bam

Old & Grey

Old & Grey (2015)

I used to be a star-kicker. Though these days just getting out of my armchair finds me making that sound your grandparents used to make when bending down. I can't even use Townshend's adage 'I look pretty young but I'm just backdated.' I'm just backdated.

My fellow blogger, The Swede, is spending the next 55 days counting down to his 55th birthday. I just hope he remembers when he gets there what he came for. TS predates me by only a handful of months, so it'll be interesting to see the overlaps between his timeline and mine. Our shared love of music (my main reason for embarking on this blog five years ago) being the obvious one. Come my next birthday, apart from being older and greyer, I would like to think that my sherpa, in the guise of The Swede, will be there to to meet me at the summit with a glass of something warming and tell me that 55 is not as bad as it sounds.