Libidinous

It was the final gig of 2025 (my 14th*) and a what a gig to end the year with: New Year's Eve with Stuart Pearce, the band, at JT Soar in town. It also doubled up as a fundraiser for striking workers. Did you know the Birmingham bin men are still out on strike? Nat Mason their head honcho (Stuart Pearce, not the striking bin men) and good friend of the Medds (he was at college with James) asked if I'd like to do a number with them - he'd got a couple of 'guest' slots he was dropping into the band's set.

So we did I Need You by The Kinks (the song was once described as libidinous by a music journalist). I think it went down well. The original clocks in at not much more than two minutes and we tracked it all the way. I think Ray would have approved.

★

* The first 13

1. Chuck Prophet - Metronome, Nottingham

2. DeWolff - Rescue Rooms, Nottingham

3. Joel Sarakula - Peggy's Skylight, Nottingham

4. Haggis Horns - Peggy's Skylight, Nottingham

5. PIL/Stuart Pearce - Rock City, Nottingham

6. Richard Hawley - Tower Ballroom, Blackpool

7. Gysai - The Lexington, Islington

8. John Reis & Swami - The Boat Club, Nottingham

9. Dodgy - The Drill, Lincoln

10. XGenerationX - Trades Club, Hebden Bridge

11. XGenerationX -  Òran Mór, Glasgow

12. XGenerationX - The Cluny, Newcastle

13. House of All - Brudenell, Leeds

(I've written contemporaneously about all these shows so I haven't bothered dating or hyperlinking them; though I only need to look at the list and I know how far along the road to recovery I was at the time of each.)

★ 

 Postscript

I also pulled in a couple of comedy shows along the way - BBC Radio 4's Dead Ringers at Nottingham Royal Concert Hall and the peerless Tom Wrigglesworth at The Canal House - part of Nottingham's Comedy Festival.

Cold Turkey

I'd like to think that the opening words of my first blog of a new year set the tone for the remaining 360 odd days to come. But as last year ended on an all time low (for all sorts of reasons - some obvious, some not so), the bar is currently set pretty low. However, as this blog approaches its 10th anniversary I'm afraid I can't make any promises for 2020. To quote Doris Day, what will be, will be. A Happy New Year to you all.

.........

I spent much of the holidays re-watching Budgie - Keith Waterhouse's finest creation (surpassing even the brilliance of Billy Liar). I've name-checked Waterhouse and Budgie Bird in previous blogs so I'll concentrate, instead, on the theme music. 

Only two series were made by LWT - in 1971 & 1972. The first deployed a haunting instrumental, The Loner, credited to the Milton Hunter Orchestra. Budgie, played by Adam Faith, is seen chasing (always out of reach) pound notes - the programmes's overriding premise encapsulated in just 45 seconds.

For the second series we see the same footage, only this time to the backdrop of a beautiful song written by Ray Davies: Nobody's Fool is - to the untrained ear, the Kinks at the top of their game. Only it isn't. Well, it's Ray Davies singing, that much we do know, but according to the label on the accompanying Pye single, the artist is Cold Turkey. Go figure.

Cold Turkey - Nobody's Fool (1972)

From the bright busy streets off the Charing Cross Road

To the dark little alleys in old Soho

Thank you for the days

A year ago I was heading in the right direction

Keeping it real in NG5

One year ago, to the day, I turned a corner: quite a few corners actually. 12 months ago, on what was a beautiful sunny morning (an omen if ever there was one), the removal van transported all my worldly goods and chattels down the country and deposited them back in civilisation.

So, an anniversary. Though no song or dance required; well, I may have to raise a glass or two this evening and toast NG5 (my postcode of choice) - just to be sociable, you understand.

I say no song; scratch that. Today's selection is a peach. Try as he might, Ray Davies can do no wrong in my book. His songs will continue to be sung as long as humans occupy planet Earth. And beyond, probably. Of that I am convinced.

'Days' was released as a single 50 years ago this month. Can you believe it? Pinch yourself. It's what I've been doing the last 365 days.

The Kinks - Days (1968)

***********************

Postscript, 2 June '18

Oh my word, I've just found this - Ray Davies with the Crouch End Choir (audio only). I want it to be played at my funeral.

What about the Diddy Men?

Suit you 'Sir'

I woke up this morning to see Ray Davies' mug staring back at me from the telly. 'Christ, not another one!' I bellowed. Turns out Raymond Douglas Davies is very much alive - fit as a butcher's dog in fact. No, the reason he's on the news is because Her Majesty has given him a New Year's shiny thing: a trinket for services to Waterloo, or somesuch. Which is all well and good, fair play to the lad, but what about our kid?




Without Dave Davies there would be no Kinks (it was Dave's band, let's not forget), no Ray Davies the songwriter, no Knighthood. Someone needs to have a word with Queenie. You can't do one without the other. It'd be like honouring Ken Dodd but forgetting the Diddy Men - the young lads who did all the spade work and made him so tattyphilarious; it couldn't happen.

Tell me now so I know

Rejoice: Artog's back! Mars was obviously not all it's cracked up to be and he's come back down among us and rejoined his fellow earthlings. Nobody else I know can get as much mileage out of the mundane like Artog. Lighthouses, beer mats, benches; don't get me started on benches.
His current post reminded me about the time Holly Golightly joined Rocket From The Crypt on stage at The Forum and in so doing made a great night even greater. Greaterer? When I got home and sobered up I'm sure the first thing I did (certainly the second thing, anyway) was to buy the splendid album she'd just made with Billy Childish.
But, like Artog, my favourite Holly Golightly moment is also a cover. But not just any old cover. It comes from the pen of Ray Davies.

Holly Golightly - Tell Me Now So I Know

'In the back of the taxi, you squeeze my hand so tightly'

The first line of a song, any song, sets the scene: it's got to pull you in. In the words of Mick (and Keef) 'Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste.' An opening line that begins the story, makes you lean in closer and never stops cascading. I don't professes to be anything other than someone who dabbles with songwriting, but even I know that your first half dozen or so words is the one chance you get to make a first impression. The line at the top of this post opens my new three (nearly four) minute ditty, Days Like This. I'll get a demo put up just as soon as I've recorded it.

Phil Oakey knows a thing or two about opening gambits: 'You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you.' It does its job doesn't it? Who could turn the radio off when they've just heard that declaration?

John Lennon, in true heart on sleeve style, once said 'When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any way.' Not even Paul's. Or Yoko's come to that.

But my favourite has got to be one of Ray Davies' many brilliant starters for ten: 'I met her in a club down in old Soho where they drink champagne that tastes just like cherry cola.'

The Kinks: Lola

Mother London

I must thank Lost Jimmy for putting me onto Mother London by Michael Moorcock. It's on the pile to be read next and, coincidentally, will be my third novel on the bounce set in the capital. I'm currently (re) reading Arthur Conan Doyle's 'The Sign Of Four' and before that it was Patrick Hamilton's Midnight Bell; set forty years apart (Doyle late 1890s, Hamilton early 1930s) both portray London warts and all and pull no punches when getting to grips with the city's underclass. Of course Holmes always gets his man, while the outcome for Bob, Hamilton's anti-hero, was far from satisfactory.

I've used this clip before, but cut me some slack, it's Ray Davies.

The Magnificent Seven (+1)

Back in '66 when we hosted The World Cup, The FA used eight grounds across the country. Can you name them? Without googling the answer (and unless you're of a certain age), the chances are you'll probably be able to reel off the first seven: Wembley (obviously), Old Trafford, Hillsborough, Villa Park, Goodison Park, Ayresome Park and Roker Park. But who remembers the eighth? Was it Highbury? White Hart Lane? Well, it was in London; was being the relevant word in that sentence.

The ground nobody remembers is White City. Or to give it its full title, White City Stadium.
Opened in 1908 for the Olympics it had a running track & a cycle track and the infield was blessed with both swimming and diving pools. So how did it come to feature in The World Cup? Unlike today, back in the swinging sixties we didn't live, breathe and sleep football (groan) so when the Wembley bosses wouldn't cancel the dog racing for the night, WC stepped in. They only put the one game on, Uraguay v France, and then it was business as usual. In its lifetime it played host to not only athletics and cycling but rugby union, speedway and greyhound racing. They even put on the odd gig.

In July 1973 a festival that included Edgar Winter, Sly & The Family Stone and Canned Heat played to a full house. The Kinks headlined that day and it wasn't without incident. That said it was rare indeed for a Kinks gig to pass without incident. Ray Davies let his potty mouth get the better of him and resigned from the band live on stage. His missus had just left him and poor old Ray went into meltdown. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last.



White City closed its doors for the last time in 1983 and, in 1985, they tore it down. Our friends at the BBC live there now.

Zenon de Fleur

I’ve never been good with anniversaries - just ask the current Mrs. Medd. And here’s another one I should have flagged up earlier this month. March 17, 1979, was the day that guitarist, founder member of The Count Bishops, and all round good guy, Zenon de Fleur bowed out at the age of just 28.

A week earlier Zen (born Zen Hierowski) had been traveling home late after playing a gig at London’s Nashville when he crashed his car. Despite the severity of his accident he was taken off the critical list at Middlesex Hospital only to die of a heart attack days later, after experiencing breathing difficulties.

Zenon de Fleur was the force behind The Count Bishops (they would later drop the Count) whose impact outlived mid 70s pub rock and livened up the then emerging London punk scene. Putting together a band with two Aussies (Dave Tice on vocals and Paul Balbi, drums) an Irishman (Pat McMullen on bass) and an American lead guitarist, Johnny Guitar, they were driven by Zen’s relentless rhythm guitar. After a well received EP, Spaceball, the band recorded Train Train, their first single, with Zen taking the vocal.
As was de rigueur in ’77, all releases of note were on the thriving indie labels and The Count Bishops were no exception. Chiswick Records took care of their barnstorming first album, which opened with this clarion call: it took a while to sink in that it had been written ten years earlier by Ray Davies.

The Count Bishops: I Need You


A live album followed which all but captured the ‘being there’ factor and their third album Cross Cuts had just been recorded days before Zen’s untimely end. The Bishops struggled to carry on without him. They weren’t the only ones.