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    Saint Dominic's Flashback: Van Morrison's Classic Album, Forty Years On
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"The cords of all link back...strandentwining cable...

"Hello...put me on to Edenville... aleph, alpha: nought, nought, one"

Wednesday
Jan042023

And that was 2022

No great sea-change to report. My notebook shows that I only bought 20 albums last year - and just three of those were first released in 2022.

Artist of the year award to Tamara Lindeman for the splendid Weather Station album How Is It That I Should Look At The Stars and a great show at Brighton's Komedia in March.

My writing task this year has flowed from a Christmas present at the end of 2021 from my daughter: a subscription to Storyworth - website which sends you a question to answer each week and then assembles the answers in a printed book at the end of the year.

I thought I'd share here my answer to the question "What would be your choices on Desert Island Discs?"

Just in case anyone is not familiar with the radio show’s format, guests are asked to pretend that they are going to be cast away on a desert island and to choose what eight pieces of music they would like to take with them. They are then asked, if they could only save one of the eight, which would it be? And then they choose a book (other than the Bible and Shakespeare, which are provided routinely), and a luxury to take with them.

Guests are not being asked what they think the eight best records of all time are – which I think would be even more of a challenge. Rather, which eight they want to be marooned with, whether because they really like them, or they are otherwise significant for them. As will be obvious, I see myself as a bit of a music fan and a critic – so the problem, clearly, is not finding eight tracks one could choose, but ruling out the thousands of others there won’t be room for.

The only ground rule I gave myself was no one artist is allowed more than one track, because I’d like to have a reasonably broad range – and I’d have no problem naming eight tracks each from the artists I’ve opted for.

If I did this tomorrow, I’m sure the list would change. For example, I’ve realised that there is no instrumental music on this list, and I spend a lot of time listening to word-free music as well as songs. And lots of acts I really love haven’t made the cut – the Stones, Bruce, Joni, Jackson, Warren Zevon – but I’m not going to agonise and tweak things too much. This is the list I came up with pretty quickly, and that must be significant: they’re all close to my heart.

Let’s go.

Patti Smith – “Gloria”. I first heard Patti on John Peel’s late night radio show, in the Christmas holiday after my first term at college in 1975. John clearly thought this was significant stuff that deserved an audience, but he personally wasn’t entirely sure. I was. The track I’d heard was “Land” and I bought a copy of the “Horses” album a few days later, thrilled by the combination of riff, repetition, attitude and pure poetry. And “Gloria” was the first thing I heard when I put the needle on the disc. “Jesus died for somebody’s sins…but not mine”. Whoa! The world found some new colours, and kept them. Robert Mapplethorpe’s amazing cover photo summed things up. The record became an integral part of the soundtrack to college days and we went to see her live at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1976 – supported by a new band who’d just released their first single, the Stranglers.

Bob Dylan – “Tangled Up in Blue”. I could write a book about Bob, and nearly did once. I love so many of his songs, but have settled on this one. It’s taken from the “Blood on the Tracks” album from 1974, when he was past the first flush of inspired and uncontrolled creation: having to work at his craft, and also raw from his recent divorce. This is a gloriously dense and cinematic narrative, capable of all sorts of different twists and turns (as the out-takes show), but grounded and convincing at its centre – and sung and played like it really means something. It is an important party-piece for me that I can play it on the guitar and know all the many words…

Van Morrison – “Listen to the Lion”. This one, I did write a book about. The gorgeous centrepiece of “Saint Dominic’s Preview”, with our unpredictable hero at his very finest, scatting, snarling, proclaiming – and entirely convincing.

Neil Young – “Four Strong Winds”. Neil had to be in the list too, as I have treasured so many of his songs and performances over the decades. He’s another of the inconsistent ones, of course – capable of the throwaway and uninspired, alongside the stone-cold classics. It is probably perverse to go for this cover of an Ian Tyson song, rather than choosing one of his own. But this is emblematic of a lot of things. It is the song that always closes the Edmonton Folk Festival. We have been to six of them now, the first few with the girls, and have a wonderful collection of discoveries and musical memories drawn from them. But the song also seems now to symbolise our family’s close connections with Canada – from my sister-in-law and her children, the links that first led me to Alberta and the west, to my daughter-in-law, and our newer connections to Ontario and the east. The country does feel very much like a second home.

Wussy – “Halloween”. I’ve gone up till now in the list for big stars with decades-old careers: hits, acclaim, money and awards. Step forward Wussy – the best band most people have never heard of – to remind you that great music can be found all over the place, and you’re just as likely to encounter genius when crammed into a pub (like Brighton’s Hope or Brixton’s Windmill) as in a video-screened stadium or concert hall. Cincinnati’s finest have yet to give up the day jobs, but when they get into the studio or onto a stage, magic very often happens. Again, I could have chosen a number of their songs, but have gone for this: Lisa Walker’s luminescent evocation of the morning after the night before, shot through with undefined nostalgia and regret, in a lovely arrangement featuring organ and pedal steel.

Fairport Convention – “Come All Ye”. Lots of North Americans so far, so let’s redress the balance with a classic representation of the British folk tradition. An incarnation of Fairport featuring Sandy Denny’s voice, Richard Thompson’s guitar, Dave Swarbrick’s fiddle, and the mighty Dave Mattacks on drums – who all cropped up in many other places before and after, to glorious effect. It’s a song I’ve secretly had in mind to be the standard opening number, if I’d ever got to form the band I wanted to be in: 

”Come all ye roving minstrels and together we will try

To rouse the spirit of the earth and move the rolling sky”. 

Which is what every self-respecting performance should aspire to.

Jefferson Starship – “Have You Seen the Stars Tonite”. I love a lot of British music, but the American West Coast bands were a seminal early musical attachment, and the Airplane pre-eminent among them. I remember seeing a picture of them in the NME when they were playing the Bath festival of 1970 – at a point when I was reading that organ from cover to cover each week, in search of the meaning of life. Grace Slick was so gorgeous and the chaps so effortlessly cool… I bought and devoured this spin-off album from the Kantner/Slick axis before moving to all the Airplane-proper albums. This song also features the Dead’s Jerry Garcia and Mickey Hart alongside them, plus the ubiquitous David Crosby, and needs no explanation in its beauty, which transcends its now slightly dodgy concept album context. 

Prince – “Raspberry Beret”. Finally, an important reminder that there is no need to be deep and meaningful. Genius can have fun and the lightest of touches and an irresistible beat, “…and when it was warm, she didn’t wear much more”. Fuck art, let’s dance, as someone once said.

But I am going to get arty for my book. “Ulysses” by James Joyce, first published in 1922 alongside “The Waste Land”, another key artefact of modernism and another personal favourite. The choice is not a pose: I love the book and would want it on the island because I know there is so much more I could still get out of it. It’s bursting with ideas and life and characters who are so real you can smell their breath. I bought my first copy as a sixth-former and didn’t get very far. It took some research and reading commentaries in my twenties to break the ice. So far, I’ve read it all through twice and bits several times over. About time for another go, I think – even if I haven’t been marooned on an island yet.

My luxury is probably obvious: a guitar. You never know what might come from a bit of practice – plus I can play along with the eight discs, and then recreate some of those songs that didn’t make the cut.

And which would be the one of the eight that I would save from the waves if I had to? “Have You Seen the Stars Tonite”, for its hope and wonder.

And a happy, safe and healthy 2023 to anyone reading this.

Thursday
Dec232021

Best of 2021

Not much sign of normality yet, I fear.

A splendid gig at the start of December from Falle Nioke & Ghost Culture in a packed basement at Elsewhere in Margate made me think we might be getting somewhere: punters standing up, close to each other, diaphragm resonating to the bass - how things ought to be. I hope it wasn't a false dawn.

Otherwise, the various lockdown shenanigans limited competition for my gig of the year. But honourable mentions for Eliza & Martin Carthy in a socially-distanced Dome at the Brighton Festival, and more recent visits from Courtney Marie Andrews, Billy Bragg (featuring the estimable Nick Pynn) and Kathryn Tickell.

Unusually, I'd say that my favourite records of the year were not albums: an amazing 7" from Chicago's young punks Horsegirl, Sea Life Sandwich Boy, and two EPs from Falle Nioke, Youkounkoun and Badiare. Falle is from Guinea, via Thanet.

Competing with Horsegirl for song of the year were the rather older chaps of The Hold Steady. 'Lanyards' was the pick of the crop from their Open Door Policy album. It's a 4-minute movie of a failed attempt at making it in Hollywood, which ends with this quite wonderful final verse:

The doctor said he only wants to help me make some healthy decisions.

Went out around the 4th of July, I was back by Thanksgiving.

I saw a few stars but never made it into a movie.

Still trying to make moves but I'm back in Independence, Missouri.

Of course, there have been some good new albums in 2021, including The Hold Steady's, but I can't really come up with a definitive top 5.

I've spent a fair amount of time listening to two excellent live releases from Chris Forsyth - Rare Dreams and First Flight, but both are drawn from pre-2021 concerts so can't really count. Hiss Golden Messenger got all prolific and released two great new records - Quietly Blowing It and O Come All Ye Faithful - that I don't want to choose between. Ryley Walker's Course In Fable didn't do it for me quite as well as he usually does - but an archive release of him jamming with Tokyo's psychedelic band Kikagaku Moyo made up for that. Try Deep Fried Grandeur, if you're into side-long electric guitar stuff...

Final mentions for a couple of Canadians. I've been following The Weather Station's career with interest and pleasure. She's had something of a breakthrough record this year with Ignorance, moving away from folky and Joni-inflected things to a more slickly produced quite-like-80s-Fleetwood-Mac sort of sound. It's fine, but I feel a bit cross with myself for preferring her older stuff.

And talking of old stuff... Neil Young and Crazy Horse have been back in the studio, with Nils Lofgren taking over on guitar, and adding accordion. Barn is something of a mixed bag, with some Neil-by-numbers alongside stronger stuff. Pick of the bunch for me is 'They Might Be Lost', with Neil fretting about the fact that 'the boys' haven't turned up and it's getting late... If it was a Tonight's The Night out-take it would have been a failed drug deal or some other criminality. Now, with the familiar querulous vocal cords distinctly older, it could be that the carers are late and it's bed-time. Give it a listen, though - it works for me!

https://music.apple.com/gb/playlist/2021-acquisitions/pl.u-xlyNq92uRk6mD It's on this playlist along with some other things I got my hands on in 2021, including some that were first released rather earlier.

Wednesday
Dec162020

Best of 2020

And so we usher out of the door the year that no-one saw coming... Roll on 2021.

Looking back, I find that I started my round-up post 12 months ago by saying:

I've been to fewer concerts again this year and I fear that I'm listening more to people I know I like, rather than breaking new ground on your behalf.

Might I be getting older?

Well, plus ca change. I managed a grand total of one concert in 2020 before lockdown bit. Transatlantic Sessions at the Dome in February, since you ask. I have no hesitation in crowning it as my gig of the year, with Aly Bain, Jerry Douglas and a bunch of young contenders on excellent form.

Fewer records bought too, and, once again, no huge new discoveries to share. 

That said, I have read about twice as many books as in previous years - aided by a lockdown project to work my way through all of Georges Simenon's Maigret novels in order. I'm about two thirds of the way through and enjoying them greatly. And since they're all under 200 pages it's quite easy to generate a record-breaking year of reading.

I'm going to limit myself to 5 records of the year this time. Drum roll, please:

5. Cornershop - England is a Garden

4. Shirley Collins - Heart's Ease

3. Nadia Reid - Out of My Province

2. Braden Gates - Kitchen Days

1. Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band - Letter to You

All well worthy of your attention.

Bruce's offering was quite well received by the critics, but with some damning with faint praise for it sounding too typically like the E Street Band. To me, that was an important part of the point: after all these years they can turn up and turn it on as powerfully as ever. As always, Max Weinberg seems about to thrash his way through the speakers, the guitars chime, and Bruce has some telling reflections on life, death, and why he does what he does. Yes, it's one for the fans - but fans should not miss it.

Braden and Nadia at 2 and 3 are the relatively young guns, still learning and developing, singing and arranging with more confidence and skill, album by album. The art of song writing continues.

I've put together a playlist of 2020 acquisitions, with a selsction of this year's releases bolstered by some older stuff that is new to vinyl - I'd been waiting 20 years for Josh Rouse's classic debut album Dressed Up Like Nebraska to find its way to the classic format...

 https://music.apple.com/gb/playlist/2020-acquisitions/pl.u-2aoqXVLfBNyYW

You'll notice that a certain Nobel laureate does not feature. I fear that Rough and Rowdy Ways was my biggest musical disappointment of the year - and I can't understand why it is being hailed as a masterpiece in others' end-of-year lists. I fear that he is now finally past it, and can't distinguish good lines from bad...

Sunday
May242020

A lockdown poem

A quick visit from the Muse yesterday morning and here's a lockdown poem.

 

Dawn on Day 61

Half-awake in half-light

To listen for the half-heard cry

That could be real until

The portcullis drops again.

Rigid, sharp, and full of holes.

 

No child is sleeping here.

 

And so the latest day’s

Unanalysed unease resolves

Into the dull, familiar ache of

Our phantom limbs.

 

Tuesday
Mar312020

Strange times need strange characters

In response to the current lockdown Mr Phigg has dipped his key in Silvo and returned to the fray.

For the duration, I’ll be posting a chapter a day of The Night of the Round Stable for anyone in need of a bedtime (or any time) story. Chapter 1 “A Fleeting Visit” is available on YouTube and via the great man's own website.

There will be more tomorrow and the day after and the day after and....