An Oblique View Of An Irrationally Happy Time

THE WETHERBEAT SCENE 1988-1991

"The Wetherbeat Scene" is a 36-track compilation released by 555 Recordings, formerly of Leeds, now based in Flagstaff, Arizona. It documents the small scene that developed in the Yorkshire town of Wetherby, leading eventually to the founding of 555. I was initially attracted to this release because it features some early tracks by Hood, although it's difficult to reconcile the chaotic, Pavement-like racket with the atmospherics that Hood have released in the last few years. (They are one of the few bands where I actually think their later music is better.) If you're familiar with Hood's early releases such as "Cabled Linear Traction" or the singles compiled on "Structured Disasters" then you should have some idea of what to expect, but the tracks featured here are more shambolic still and I think it's safe to assume that most of them were recorded in somebody's bedroom.

As you'd expect with a 555 compilation, there are a number of Boyracer tracks, including a hilarious take on Run DMC's "It's Tricky", which appears as the final, unlisted track on the CD. I always find Boyracer enjoyable, but I'm not sure if I really need any more of their songs. I already own something in the region of 200 Boyracer tracks and I'd probably struggle to identify at least half of them if they were played to me blind. One day I'll find time to sit down and listen to their entire back catalogue properly.

Apart from Hood and Boyracer, I hadn't actually heard of any of the other bands on the CD and I suspect most of them never went on to record anything else. The most prolific band on the CD, with 10 songs, is Baby Doll Lounge, whose members later formed Boyracer. Their music is typical light-hearted late-'80s indiepop, and if their song titles are anything to go by, they were influenced by The Wedding Present. You can easily imagine titles like "You Don't Have To Say Yes" or "Why Should I Communicate With You?" appearing on an early Wedding Present release, and just in case we haven't got the message already, they also have a song called "I Stood Next To David Gedge In Jumbo Records". However, their cover of Primal Scream's "Velocity Girl" seems unnecessary, as it is barely distinguishable, to my ears at least, from the original. Other bands on the CD include The Liddles, The Harbour Pilots and The Paisley Springtime. I can tell you very little about any of these bands, and Google only comes back with, respectively, a medical disorder, maritime job vacancies and some curtain material.

The CD comes with a 40-page book. Well, to call it a book might be a little generous. It has a nice glossy cover, but the inside resembles a cheaply-photocopied fanzine. Not that I'm knocking cheaply-photocopied fanzines; I've contributed to a few in my time and the presentation of this one fits perfectly with the music on the CD and the era it is documenting. It harks back to a simpler time, before the internet, when music was traded on cassette and interest in new bands was generated by word of mouth. The booklet features a few interviews with people who were involved with the bands (many of whom were still attending Wetherby High School when they recorded the songs included on the CD) as well as reproductions of gig flyers and, best of all, photos of fresh-faced youths with floppy fringes and paisley shirts:



That, in case you're wondering, is an early shot of Richard and Chris Adams of Hood. I find that picture particularly touching, because when I was at school in the late '80s, everyone I knew looked like that.

"The Wetherbeat Scene" is limited to 200 copies, so as soon as I heard about it, I ordered one directly from 555's website. I later found out that there are some copies for sale in the UK, so if you want one then it might be better to try Norman Records first before ordering it from the US. I'm not sure if paying for it in dollars cost me any more, but it did mean I had to wait an extra week for it to arrive. Having said that, if you do buy it from the label, you get a nice handwritten note from 555/Boyracer founder Stewart Anderson:


Although much of the music included is rather amateur in both style and recording quality, it has a certain endearing nature and, combined with the book, it makes a great historical artefact. Fans of Sarah Records and the like, or modern-day tweecore such as The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, will certainly enjoy the youthful enthusiasm found here.

Mojo Man From Mars

LUX INTERIOR 1946 - 2009

Whilst browsing the headlines over breakfast yesterday morning, I came across the sad news that Erick Lee Purkhiser, a.k.a. Lux Interior, has died at the age of 62. As frontman of The Cramps since the mid-1970s, he has been responsible for some of the sleaziest music in my collection and was famed for his intense live performances. The Cramps are also one of the few bands I can think of who have stuck to the same musical style for over 30 years. Now you may think that shows a lack of ambition, but you know what you're getting with a Cramps record and they never disappoint. Their music was a blend of primal rock 'n' roll and surf guitar, infused with a perverse sense of humour. The lyrics generally focused on trashy 1950s Americana and horror movies, and this fascination with the weirder aspects of life spilled over into other areas of their career. The band famously played a free concert for the inmates of Napa State Mental Hospital, and also appeared in a Halloween special of "Beverly Hills 90210". Lux Interior allegedly took his stage name from a car advert.

Apart from his great stage presence, my lasting memory of Lux Interior will be of a stylish dresser, particularly in his latter years when he wasn't made up like a zombie. I hope when I'm in my sixties I can carry off the kind of vintage suits that he wore.

For those of you who, like me, sadly never got to see them live, sit back and enjoy "Thee Most Exalted Potentate Of Love":

Fear of a Blank Planet

BLANK DOGS – ON TWO SIDES

I received this album as a Christmas present and it’s taken me a couple of weeks to get my head round it. It had been recommended by a friend who said I would like it, and I can’t decide whether that means this particular friend knows my music tastes inside out or just regards me as warped enough to enjoy this sort of thing…

I can’t give you much background info on Blank Dogs. From the little snippets I’ve managed to find, it seems to be the work of just one man, but I don’t know his name or what he looks like. He doesn’t reveal his identity on his webpage or in the credits of the album, and he covers his face with scarves and blankets in publicity photos. I think he may be American, as the only tour dates I’ve seen listed are in the US.

The sound is also difficult to pin down. Before I’ve actually played the album, I’m already thinking of The Residents, another act who keep their true identities hidden, but this turns out to be a physical rather than musical similarity as Blank Dogs sound much darker than The Residents’ high-pitched cartoon vocals. A more accurate comparison would be the late-1970s work of This Heat, with perhaps a hint of Swell Maps. Most of the songs also contain a vintage synth sound that could have come from The Cure’s darkest albums, “Pornography”, “Faith” and “Seventeen Seconds”. However, “On Two Sides” could not by any stretch of the imagination be described as a “goth” record. By the second or third play, it becomes apparent that there are catchy melodies buried beneath the fuzzy layers of distortion; I even found myself humming some of the tunes a few hours later. The contradiction between the initial bleak atmosphere and what could almost be described as pop songs can be very disorientating.

I have no idea what the songs are about, as the lyrics are impossible to make out, but there is a general air of paranoia and claustrophobia, despite the underlying pop melodies. Following on from my recent review of July Skies, this album also has a psychogeographic feel. But in contrast to July Skies’ depictions of outdoor environments, Blank Dogs remind me of being trapped in an enclosed space. The music also puts me in mind of the confusion I sometimes feel when I find myself in a new physical environment; as many of you will know, I have problems with spatial awareness and navigating around three-dimensional space, and the disorientating sound of this album seems to reflect that problem perfectly.

Part of me would like to know what he is actually singing about, but I suspect Mr Blank Dog probably wants to keep the lyrics secret along with his identity. If you’re not already totally confused by my conflicting descriptions of his music, you can experience the wonderful and frightening world of Blank Dogs at his MySpace page where he regularly makes new songs available.

Music Won't Save You From Anything But Silence

Piano Magic / July Skies / Yellow6 - London Luminaire

Last weekend, the artist-run label Make Mine Music put on a show in London to launch their 50th release, a compilation called "MMM050". I'd never been to the Luminaire before and wasn't sure what to expect, but it turned out to be one of the better venues I've visited recently. It's a small club, accessed by stairs directly from the street (which reminded me of the long-lost Edwards No. 8), with the space in front of the stage wide enough for everyone to get a good view of the performance. In addition, there were large screens at each side of the stage, which meant that I could see the band from a different angle whilst directly watching the stage at the same time. But perhaps the most noticeable aspect of the venue is its no-talking policy; there were a number of amusing signs reminding customers to be quiet while bands are playing as it's not a pub where you come to chat to your friends. This may seem a little excessive, but it can be frustrating when chatter from the audience drowns out quiet music.

The show must have started earlier than I was expecting, and maybe we spent too long looking for somewhere to eat and checking into our ridiculously cheap hotel, as we unfortunately arrived too late to catch Yellow6. I can't really comment on his set as I didn't see any of it, but I imagine it was as blissful as usual. I guess I should buy the latest in his regular series of Christmas CDs to make up for missing the performance.

July Skies is the project of Antony Harding, who is actually based in the Midlands so has probably played Birmingham many times, but this London show is the first time I've caught him live. The music of July Skies is based on themes of psychogeography - the way a physical environment affects our feelings and behaviour - and it conjures up images of disused shopping centres, 1970s tower blocks and public parks in the rain. It's not surprising to discover that Harding's day job is as a town planner. Some of the songs have vocals, some just feature samples of old radio broadcasts, weather forecasts etc. Harding's intricate guitar playing is reminiscent of Vini Reilly, and the music is so delicate that I'm glad the audience have been told to remain silent.

It's interesting to see how Piano Magic's music has evolved over the past couple of years. While some guitar bands gradually bring in electronic elements to their work, Piano Magic have done the opposite and their set at the Luminaire was almost totally free of electronic sounds of any kind. The guitar-dominated songs they played were far removed from the freeform electronica of early releases such as "Popular Mechanics". The set mainly consisted of songs from the last two albums, "Disaffected" and "Part Monster", the only two older songs being "Silence" from 2002's "Writers Without Homes" and set-opener "Saint Marie" from 2003's "Troubled Sleep". There were also two (I think) songs from the new EP "Dark Horses" but I didn't recognise these at the time because in a rare lapse I hadn't actually bought the EP even though it had been out for at least two weeks. Needless to say, I picked up a copy at the show, along with the "MMM050" compilation.

I have wondered whether Piano Magic's divergence into more traditional song structures with loud guitars has alienated fans of their electronic sound; I certainly read a few negative comments online when their last album was released. I'm often guilty of disowning a band when they change their style, and "I prefer their earlier stuff" is a phrase I use about pretty much anyone who has released more than three albums. But with Piano Magic, their music has been consistently interesting and the recent material actually seems more relevant to me - particularly the new EP, now that I've got it home, read the lyrics repeatedly and worked out how they apply to my life. Whilst watching the show, it occurred to me that their songs sum up adult life in the same way that the jangly indiepop of the 1980s appealed to me as a teenager. Themes of travel seem to recur in the songs, but not as the exciting pastime that it can be when you are young. Instead the songs paint a picture of hanging around train stations, longing for the journey to be over. This is particularly relevant to me as I have spent a lot of this year travelling to gigs in different cities, something that I haven't really done since the mid-'90s.

The songs also focus on reminiscences of our youth, and both "Silence" and "Love and Music" refer to the way that when we are young we turn to music as a means of escaping from our problems. Maybe as they've grown older and wiser, the band have realised that this won't solve anything and they may even be trying to tell us that we should face up to reality...

Perhaps to tie in with the theme of ageing, Glen Johnson's hair has developed into a rather worrying football commentator-style comb-over, as you can see in this clip:



Ignoring Johnson's hair and the fact that they only played for about 40 minutes, this was an excellent show and I finally realised what last.fm has been trying to tell me for some time, that in today's fragmented music scene, Piano Magic are the band who best describe my life. When I'm an old man, perhaps with a comb-over of my own, I think I will look back on Piano Magic as the defining music of my mid-30s, in the same way that the Smiths and the Wedding Present remind me of my youth.

A nocturne filled with glorious ideas...

DRIFTING AND TILTING: THE SONGS OF SCOTT WALKER - London Barbican


















This was never going to be a conventional gig. The reclusive former teen idol no longer performs live, so when he announced a three-night residency at the Barbican, it became one of the most talked about events of the year. There has been a lot of excitement surrounding these shows, even though Scott had made it clear that he would not be onstage himself. What we got instead was Scott's backing band and a 42-piece orchestra, with a series of guest vocalists performing songs from his albums "Tilt" and "The Drift". I'm sure some members of the audience would have liked to hear something from his early solo albums or even a Walker Brothers tune, but the setlist (six songs from "The Drift" and two from "Tilt") seemed to have been chosen to emphasise how the 21st Century incarnation of Scott Walker is very different from the one who performed Jacques Brel songs in the late 1960s.

Given the intense nature of Scott's vocal delivery on these recent releases, it is no surprise that alongside the four guests from the world of rock and pop (Jarvis Cocker, Damon Albarn, Dot Allison and Gavin Friday), several classically-trained singers had been invited. I hardly ever attend opera or classical performances so I'm not familiar with the work of Michael Henry, Nigel Richards or Owen Gilhooly, but their performances were the ones that came closest to the original recordings. In particular, Michael Henry's interpretation of "Cue" was the most powerful of the evening, backed by two men smashing concrete blocks onto a table. I'm not certain, but I think the "BAM BAM BAM" vocals in this song may actually have been provided by Scott, although if it was the man himself then it was probably a recording as he did not make his presence known last night, even if he was, as some people have claimed, sitting behind the mixing desk.

Of the four "popular" vocalists, Gavin Friday's performance of "Jesse" was the most impressive. I really should listen to some of his solo work; I only know his early releases as singer of the Virgin Prunes. These were often abrasive but also sometimes melodramatic, so it doesn't take much imagination to see how he could have matured into a singer with a style similar to that of Scott. I was surprised that the one singer who seemed slightly out of place was Jarvis, who opened the show with "Cossacks Are". He made no attempt to imitate Scott's voice, instead sticking to his own vocal style and mannerisms, which meant this song was the only one that sounded totally different from the original version. In particular, his delivery of the line "That's a nice suit, that's a swanky suit" in his familiar Sheffield accent sounded almost comical. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as Jarvis is one of the most compelling live performers around at the moment and he was the only person who managed to make one of the songs his own. It just seemed slightly incongruous when I was in the mood for the dark music of Scott Walker.

Many of the visual elements accompanying the songs were totally bizarre, as you would expect from a show put together by Scott. Jarvis performed his song whilst reading a newspaper, during "Buzzers" Dot Allison serenaded a tree made of wire coat-hangers, and "Clara" was punctuated by a man in boxing gloves rhythmically punching a dead pig suspended from the ceiling. I suspect the pig may have been intended to represent the corpse of Mussolini, whose execution provides the subject matter of the song.

There was also a dance element incorporated into many of the songs. Modern dance is an artform that I've never really understood, and I certainly felt this way whilst watching the performance of "Patriot (A Single)". This was accompanied by a man stumbling drunkenly around the stage wearing stockings, with another one over his head like a bank robber, and pink shoes with unfeasibly high heels. This put me in mind of the work that Michael Clark's dancers did with The Fall in the 1980s. I remember being similarly baffled when I saw that on Whistle Test.

However, reflecting on the show after a good night's sleep, it occurred to me that the dance was probably a literal interpretation of the song's lyrics. The dancer's attire could have represented the line "I brought nylons from New York, some had butterflies, some had flecks". At one point in the song he was chasing a sheet of newspaper being dragged around on a long stick held offstage; maybe this was supposed to demonstrate "the bad news is there is no news". But even if there was a link with the song, it did seem rather ridiculous and only served to detract from the serious mood of the music.

Forgetting the visual elements, the music throughout the set was intense and provided a reminder, if one is needed, that Scott Walker has created two of the most sonically and emotionally overpowering albums of the last 15 years. Finally being able to see these performed live, with or without Scott, was a great experience and I hope that the success of these shows will persuade Scott that it's time he returned to the stage himself.

Mere Pseud Mag Ed

I don't usually plug fanzines, but residents of Birmingham and Yorkshire might be interested in issue 4 of A Layer Of Chips, which features an interview with my good friend Pete Green. (No, not the one from Fleetwood Mac.)

As well as the interview, you get a CD containing five of Pete's recent songs and five from his former band The Regulars, including "Above the Party", which as far as I'm aware has never been released before.

If you're interested (it's free) then just email alayerofchips@googlemail.com with your address and a copy will arrive in the post within a couple of days.

Listening to the CD has made me realise that Birmingham seems very dull now that we've lost not only The Regulars but also The Jug Of Ale, where they often played...

Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week!

I've just returned from my annual trip to Iceland, where things are not quite as bleak as the press would have us believe. I didn't see any shops that had gone out of business, or speak to any locals who had lost their jobs. The only real difference compared to previous visits was that the local currency has dropped in value, which meant that essential purchases such as food and CDs were quite a bit cheaper this year. At least one shop said they were benefiting from this, as tourists are now spending more. I noticed a distinct air of cynicism towards the UK government and media for the way they have portrayed Iceland recently, but not towards the UK public in general as our money is always welcome in local shops! The main purpose of my trip, for those of you who are not already aware, is to attend the Iceland Airwaves festival, which happens every October. The festival organisers had been forced to place an announcement on their website reassuring everyone that it was still going ahead, to counter scaremongering from the BBC (amongst others) who had suggested that it would be cancelled. With a diverse selection of local and international talent signed up to play and a huge number of tickets already sold to visitors from all across Europe and the US, a cancellation was never on the cards. I was interviewed by a German radio journalist who was reporting on the effect of the financial crisis on foreign visitors. So far I have failed to find the show on the radio station's website, so I don't know if German listeners ever got to hear my comments.

There's not enough space for a full review of all the bands that played, so I'll just give a quick summary of a few of the highlights. Firstly a handful of non-Icelandic acts that I particularly enjoyed: I've recently discovered El Perro Del Mar so it was a pleasure to see her melancholy folk-pop played live. Final Fantasy is the project of Canadian violinist Owen Pallett, who uses an
assortment of effect pedals to create what sounds like a whole string quartet from just one violin. Miracle Fortress, another Canadian act, are possibly my favourite new discovery of this year's festival. They produce droning keyboard sounds that could have come from MBV's "Loveless", but overlaid with vocal harmonies reminiscent of the Beach Boys.

There were other high-profile international acts that I didn't get to see, as it's always an effort to fit in all the bands you want to watch when there is usually something going on in at least five different venues, and I always aim to see as many Icelandic bands as possible. This year I was surprised that local favourites Mugison and My Summer as a Salvation Soldier were not on the bill, despite both of them having released new albums recently. I hope this doesn't mean they've become too big to play Airwaves. A highlight from previous festivals that I was pleased to see on the bill again this year was Mammút. Their energetic post-punk is always enjoyable and they've finally got round to releasing their second album. Lights On The Highway were slated by many of the reviews in the following day's press, but I enjoyed their '70s psychedelia. Just in case anyone hadn't realised which era they are stuck in, they included a cover of Pink Floyd's "Breathe in the Air". FM Belfast make quirky synthpop (not unlike US acts Yacht/Blow), including an almost unrecognisable cover of Rage Against The Machine's "Killing in the Name", which has become something of a club anthem locally. The band members were very friendly when I found myself having lunch next to them on the final day of the festival.

Seabear play a kind of rustic folk in the style of Sufjan Stevens or Iron & Wine. Their sound, in particular the vocalist, was so similar to the recent crop of great acts coming out of the US that I had to double-check that Seabear are in fact Icelandic. Their wonderful album "The Ghost That Carried Us Away" is released by Morr Music of Berlin, so it may actually be available to readers outside of Iceland who are tempted by the description. Hjaltalín were also compared to Sufjan Stevens in the festival literature, but the wide range of instruments they used put me more in mind of the Arcade Fire or even Birmingham's own Shady Bard.

Unfortunately, if you want to hear more of these bands then you may need to visit Iceland as most of their work is not released internationally. If you do find yourself in Reykjavík, then 12 Tónar is the place to visit. This has rapidly become my favourite shop anywhere in the world; they release most of the local acts through their own label, allow you to take anything you like from the shelves and listen to it on one of the shop's many CD players, and bring you endless cups of coffee while you're deciding what to buy. Their website doesn't feature a complete online shop at the moment, but if you are desperate for any of the music I've described here, just drop them a line and tell them that I sent you - I'm sure they will be happy to arrange international shipping.

This year the guys from 12 Tónar introduced me to the music of Kid Twist and kindly burned me a CD of a few demo tracks that were on the shop's laptop. The band were not performing on the main festival bill, but made a brief mid-afternoon appearance in the shop itself on the first day of the festival. They are obviously influenced by 1960s acts such as the Seeds and the 13th Floor Elevators, but I was reminded more of the noisy psychedelia that was briefly popular in the late '80s/early '90s (Dr. Phibes & the House of Wax Equations in particular) - perhaps because I was around to experience that era first-hand! I guess 12 Tónar may have plans to release something from them soon, although if they do, I think the band's choice of name could cause some confusion. While searching for the band's website, I came across a Scottish electro act and a US DJ, both of them also called Kid Twist.

Iceland Airwaves has now been running for 10 years, and it seems to be more popular each year so there is no reason why it shouldn't continue for many more years. I hope to see some of you there in 2009.