This album turned up, quite unexpectedly, for my birthday a couple of weeks back. I'd never heard of Dave Jackson before but knew John Head through Shack (with his brother Michael). I don't often plug records but you really should go and beg, steal or borrow a copy. I've likened it to pulling out an old jacket from the back of the wardrobe and finding a tenner in one of the pockets: yes, it really is that good.
An album I keep coming back to time and again is Rory Gallagher's eponymous solo outing from 1971. And as any self respecting, chin stroking, rock buff will tell you - step forward David Hepworth - 1971 was a vintage year for classic albums that has (probably) never been bettered.
After experiencing rave reviews with Taste (frequent comparisons were made at the time to Hendrix's combo) the lad from Ballshannon who had started out (as indeed had most young Irish musicians before him) on the showbands circuit, went solo.
He enjoyed considerable success on his home turf, in the UK and in mainland Europe. His gigs were invariably sell outs and often went on into the wee hours. Shows in excess of three hours were not uncommon - you just couldn't get him off the stage.
I won't dwell on his untimely end but instead give you an idea of just how high his stock was in the mid 70s. When Mick Taylor left The Rolling Stones it appeared that William Rory Gallagher was in the frame to plug the gap. Rory's brother, Donal, picks up the story.
"At the end of 1974, Mick left the band and Keith and Mick had to look for a replacement. In January 1975, I got a phone call from The Stones management wondering if Rory might be interested, because Mick saw a lot in Rory. That was the case and of course it also made my mouth water. The auditions took place in The Hague, in The Netherlands. Rory went there on his own, and to this day I regret that. He was put up in a hotel, jammed a bit with the band, but no decision was forthcoming. Even then The Rolling Stones were an unassailable mega act and could have everything they wanted and keep everybody waiting. Rory on the other hand had a tour of Japan in his agenda and those dates kept getting closer. The Stones’ management knew that, but probably thought that Rory would cancel it. However they didn't count on Rory’s stubbornness, as well as his loyalty to his fans. He kept waiting to the end, but finally packed his bags and left a note at the reception: "If you still want me then I will hear from you" and he left for Japan. If I had been there I would have tied him to his chair if I had to. I wonder sometimes: what would have become of him if he had become a member. Would he be alive still? There was never any word from The Stones. They were probably offended to death by his perceived impertinence."
Listen to Laundromat (Side 1, Track 1 from Rory Gallagher) and tell me that Mr Wood was the right man for the job. No offence Ronnie, but what the Stones needed back then (and probably still do) was someone who could bring something new to the table; not a Keef clone.
I must thank my friend Riggsby for sending a bag of goodies all the way from San Diego. Riggsby's one of my oldest school friends now residing in California. I always look forward to his parcels landing on the doormat; in amongst the pot pouri of cultural gems was December's issue of Rolling Stone magazine: it was their round up of the year just gone and it's always good to see what our American cousins rate and hate. Also, it makes a refreshing change from the often stilted and predictable UK music monthlies - Word magazine excepted.
One platter they were gushing about was, I must admit, an album that passed me by entirely - Brothers by The Black Keys. What's refreshing here is that they've clearly dispensed with the minimalist guitar and drum dirge and augmented their sound with (crikey) a bass player and keyboards. Here's a belter from it entitled Howlin' For You: I particularly like the way they pay homage to Gary Glitter's Rock and Roll.
A new year always brings with it a plethora of shiny new box sets (having a birthday between Crimbo and New Year does have its advantages sometimes) and so 2011 has proven to be no different - those winter nights in front of the log burner will positively fly by with the help of Spin City, Thunderbirds (all 32 episodes on nine DVDs - in Supermarionation) and more Morse than you can shake a shitty stick at.
However, currently at Medd Towers, we're filling our boots with Season 1 of (the quite superb) Justified. To all disciples of pulp fiction this latest transformation of one of Elmore Leonard's short stories will need no introduction. But to those of you out there who aren't yet in the loop and would like your appetite whetting, here's a wee sample:
Timothy Olyphant plays the role of US Marshal Raylan Givens with every ounce of subtlety his creator surely intended. When the other guy gets shot - as happens on a regular basis - Givens' response is invariably 'he drew first.' He was justified.
Any Deadwood fans out there will know Olyphant from his role as Sheriff Bullock. With an fpm count exceeding that of any American show (Sopranos included) that's ever seen the light of day, here's a classic encounter between Olyphant and the actor formerly known as Lovejoy.
And yes, you've got to admit it, Olyphant can carry a hat.
Apologies for the delay in starting 2011, but I've not been well. Like you wouldn't believe: I think I did Christmas and New Year on autopilot - however, normal service has now been resumed. And for that I can't thank my very own Florence Nightingale enough for being there when it mattered (I guess that's what they mean by that whole 'for better or worse' malarkey).
Anyway, just got time to say that we've now got tix for the first gig of the new year. Dodgy (Nottingham Central Fri 21 Jan), it must be said, probably released the most consistently fab grooves of all the Britpop movers and shakers of the time. If you want three essential albums of the early 90s you can forget Oasis and Blur; The Dodgy Album, Homegrown and Free Peace Sweet capture the (don't worry, I'm not going to say the z word) very spirit of that whole TFI Friday buzz that defined the fag end of the last century. Bostin.
I interviewed Nigel Clark a few years back and remember telling him that this was the best song he'd ever written. He didn't disagree.
The feline models at the top of the page btw are our very own Tom and Doris, who proudly posed for Phill Jupitus' Pets In Band Tee Shirts gallery.
