Towering

My love of power stations and cooling towers has never been limited to those 'still with us'. Many of this country's most iconic industrial structures have been victims of the wrecking ball over the years, thus wiping once familiar landmarks from our local skylines. Gone. But not forgotten. A brace of cooling towers that fall into this category were visible to anyone whose commute took them on the M1 around Sheffield. The Tinsley Towers were part of Blackburn Meadows Power Station which closed in 1980.

However, as the towers were (at their closest) only 12 metres from the twin deck viaduct that carried the busy motorway, it was thought they would remain. Forever. But we all know what thought did. Power giant EON bought the site (moving away from coal fired to biomass) and (after conferrable strengthening of the adjacent viaduct) on 24 August 2008 at thee o'clock in the morning they blew the 275 feet high icons to smithereens. Though for a short while part of the base of the north tower remained visible - a bitter sweet reminder to Sheffielders of the senseless destruction* of a city institution.

* Discussions had been taking place prior to their downfall to turn the site into a giant art installation and or theme park; EON's men in suits, however, put paid to any such altruistic notions.

Nothing

Paul Weller had been sitting on our ticket money for about nine months, we reckoned. That's a long enough gestation period. And so last night Tony and I finally swapped the QR codes on our phones for a pair of seats up in the gods. (I loathe all seater venues. Give me a sweaty rock club where I can stand down the front every day of the week.)

Was he worth the wait? I think so. A great setlist, don't get me wrong. But the man himself has zero charisma. What passes for inter-song banter is banality personified, but, hey, you're not gonna change this prickly 66 year old modernist. He was monosyllabic when he walked off the tour bus and not much chirpier on stage. But that's Weller. Deal with it, as they say.

And anyway, who else can write songs as good as this? (Well, Suggs, actually: one of many co-writes on his new album.)

Paul Weller - Nothing (2024)

Duck, Duck, Goose

I've never needed an excuse to post pictures of my friends on here. And today is no exception. Yvonne and her daughter Leoni, two of my dearest friends, came down for the weekend and I honestly don't think I've laughed so much in a 24 hour timeframe. (Just what I need right now - if you know, you know.) The diner where we went out for breakfast is directly opposite the Sherwood mural, so what better photo opportunity than directly in front of same. I also snapped Leoni in front of a random bush; she humoured me. She always does.

South of the river

Those of you who've listened to yesterday's London playlist will have clocked Jan Wobble's presence on there with A13 - his love song to the arterial road that takes you from central London to the marshlands of Essex. With its motor factors, betting shops and launderettes it's the sort of stuff John Betjeman would be writing today if he was still with us. I'm kidding, I'm kidding.

Wobble's love of London transport and indeed London Transport extends way beyond his tube driver days. In 2022/23 when sitting on the top deck of several buses (to, thru and from south London) he was recording both the sights and sounds of his journey; amazing what you can do with yer phone these days. He'd fill in the gaps later with some monster bass lines and synth parts that, if you closed your eyes, you could picture yourself on that self same journey. The finished product is called, imaginatively, The Bus Routes of South London. And it really is one of his strongest albums in a long while.

Jah Wobble - 345 Towards South Kensington (2023)

   

 

London calling

I'm just putting the finishing touches to a London themed playlist. And no, the Clash aren't on it*. The capital is neither Burning nor Calling; not in this set, anyway. The Kinks are represented but there's no mention of sunsets. Werewolves don't get much of a look in either. And if you thought Ralph McTell would be a shoo-in, think again. The stuff that is on there probably wouldn't find its way into most people's gazeteers. And that's fine by me. If you're a Spotify user (Spotifician?) and would like a copy then let me know and I'll ping it to your phone/email. However, what I'd really like to have have done was spend a couple of days with my old tape deck and knocking out an old skool C90. Now that would be something. I could have used my Dymo machine and everything!

I'll leave you with this. It opens proceedings. An establishing shot, if you will. 

K. Leimer - London Interiors (2021)

 

* Tho' Strummer is. 

 ★

Postscript 11.10.24

And here it is. Give it a listen, why don't you. And tell me what you think. J x