And what costume shall the poor girl wear...

ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES CURATED BY THE BREEDERS

Last weekend's ATP festival in Minehead had over 40 artists performing. I only managed to catch a fraction of these, so I'll give a quick summary of the highlights. I half-heartedly watched a bit of Giant Sand after we arrived on Friday, but didn't really take much of it in. The first band I watched properly was Throwing Muses, who were the main reason I'd come to the festival. Now a trio with Kristin Hersh joined by Bernard Georges on bass and original drummer David Narcizo, the band have become more frenzied and at times during their performance the boundaries with Kristin's hardcore project 50 Foot Wave became blurred. The first part of the set was drawn mainly from the 2003 self-titled album and the mid-'90s releases "University" and "Limbo". Towards the end, the focus changed and we were treated to some older material such as "Bea" and "Vicky's Box" (the song I had most wanted to hear) before a frantic run through "Mania" closed the set. It seemed to be a cutdown version of the setlist from the video that Kristin recently sent out to fans. I have always preferred this kind of show, where a band doesn't have a new album to promote so they are free to choose material from all of their albums equally. But to be fair, the choice of songs wasn't that important to me; if Kristin had just stood there and read out her shopping list I would still have been entertained. If I have one complaint about the performance, it was a little too loud. At times the subtle aspects of Kristin's guitar playing were lost in the overall volume. This could be because I was standing too close to the speakers at the front; this clip of "Speed and Sleep" was shot by someone standing further back (at one point I think I can see the back of my head) and the sound is reasonably clear:


It's interesting to see the rapt expressions on the band members' faces in that clip. All three of them are locked into their own playing, yet they still manage to work together coherently. The problem with having Throwing Muses play so early in the weekend was that everything else was something of an anticlimax. It's a pity that Kristin didn't play a solo set as well, but then she is a working mum so I guess we shouldn't demand too much from her.

I didn't see much else of note on Friday, although I did quite enjoy Bon Iver's set. I'd written their album off as being pleasant but not as good as everyone has made it out to be, but I may revisit it in the light of this performance.

Saturday's proceedings kicked off with Wire. I wasn't sure what to expect, having been disappointed with their last album, but I needn't have worried, as even the songs from "Object 47" sounded more ferocious than anything else I heard all weekend. This suggests that it's the production that is to blame for the lacklustre sound of that album, rather than the songs. It still seems odd to see Wire without Bruce Gilbert, but Margaret Fiedler now looks more comfortable in her role and for the first time I thought of her as part of the band rather than just a stand-in. Colin Newman was more animated than ever and his refusal to act his age should be an inspiration to many of the younger performers on the bill. The setlist was similar to the Manchester show I reviewed this time last year, with the better tracks from "Send"/"Read and Burn" mixed up with classics such as "Pink Flag" and "12XU". I was pleased to hear a couple of songs that weren't played in Manchester, namely "Underwater Experiences" and "Silk Skin Paws". Despite my reservations, Wire turned out to be one of the highlights of the festival.


Teenage Fanclub, immediately afterwards, provided the perfect contrast to Wire's intensity, playing probably the most mellow set of the day. It's been years since I last listened to TFC, and I wasn't even sure if they still existed. It was great to hear "Starsign", "The Concept" and "Sparky's Dream" again, and there were two or three new songs which suggested that their forthcoming album will be an essential purchase for anyone who remembers them at their early '90s peak.

I think The Breeders have been getting more credit for the diversity of acts that they invited to play, rather than their own set. As with several other bands I saw, it was more the nostalgia that made it enjoyable than their musical skill or stage presence. They played nearly all of "Last Splash", four or five songs from "Pod", an Amps song, and I'm not sure what else as I've not really kept up with their recent releases. I think this was true of a lot of people in the crowd, given the more enthusiastic response to the older numbers. I was pleased to see that the Deal twins have considerately adopted different hairstyles to help me tell them apart.

The non-musical highlight of the day (which won't mean anything to readers who are not familiar with the occupants of my chalet) occurred during The Breeders' set, when Simon met his doppelgänger. For those of you who know him, see if you can spot the real Fox in this picture:


I didn't get to see Tricky, as his set clashed with The Breeders, and I'm sorry to have missed him, from the reports that I've heard from others. However, I did see him wandering around the site looking menacing several times during the weekend, and apparently he was picking fights with people at random. At one point security had a polite word with him, but I don't know why they didn't eject him from the premises, as they surely would have done if a member of the public had acted like this. It's a shame that he has to let the aggressive elements of his music spill over into his offstage persona, as his behaviour was completely at odds with the overall atmosphere of the weekend.

I was expecting Melt Banana on Sunday to be a bit too much to cope with, but I was surprised to find that their set was very entertaining. They took to the stage in darkness and shone torches into the crowd before finally revealing their faces. I have no idea if they were singing in Japanese or English, or if their high-pitched shrieking was even meant to mean anything. They included a cover of The Specials' "Monkey Man", which I probably wouldn't have recognised if someone hadn't pointed out to me what it was, and they leapt around the stage like demented children. I had imagined that they would use a drum machine, so I was impressed to find that they had a live drummer who could play that fast without his limbs falling off. However, they did eventually start to hurt my ears so I skipped the last couple of songs to go downstairs and check out Deerhunter. Their set had a few interesting moments, but was not as good as I had expected. Their material, particularly the long, repetitive numbers, would probably work better in an enclosed space and the sound just seemed to drift away into nothingness in the vast openness of the Pavilion. The most memorable part was when they were joined by Kim and Kelley Deal for yet another Amps song.

Gang Of Four were another band that I had decided in advance would be one of the highlights, and I guess they still were, despite not sounding quite how I'd expected. They were a lot rougher around the edges than the last time I saw them, with Jon King's voice in particular sounding very raw. From the way he was throwing himself around the stage, I suspect he'd had a drink or two before the start of their set. One of the more bizarre sights of the weekend occurred during "He'd Send In The Army", with King rhythmically beating a microwave with a baseball bat.



It's really the basslines, rather than King's voice, that define Gang Of Four's sound. I don't know what's happened to original bassist Dave Allen (I'm sure he was there for the reunion shows in 2004-5) or who the new guy is, but he did a reasonable job of reproducing Allen's trademark sound. The main problem with him is his rock star posturing. At times his mannerisms reminded me of Peter Hook, although he wasn't holding his bass quite so far down his body. Hooky could get away with it as it always seemed he was being ironic, but with this bloke it just looks a bit cheesy. Despite the sound not being quite as "angular" (what does that actually mean?) as usual, you couldn't really fault the setlist - "At Home He's A Tourist", "Anthrax", "We Live As We Dream, Alone", "Damaged Goods", "What We All Want", "I Love A Man In Uniform" etc. - and it's easy to see why their back catalogue has been mercilessly raided by the likes of Franz Ferdinand.

I've never really bothered with Shellac before. I remember listening to one of their albums many years ago, deciding it wasn't as interesting as Steve Albini's previous band, Big Black, and then forgetting about them. I didn't need to watch much of their performance at ATP before I realised I'd been missing out. The sound was slow and crushing, and at times reminded me of the early works of Swans or Sonic Youth. Two long-haired types standing near me were headbanging in slow motion, either unaware of or not caring how ridiculous they looked. The standout song was called, I think, "The End Of Radio" and featured bassist Bob Weston repeatedly playing a single note while Albini menacingly intoned lyrics that had been lifted directly from Jonathan Richman's "Roadrunner". The result was how I imagine Richman's single would sound if you played it at 33rpm. Despite the foreboding nature of the music, Steve Albini is an engaging frontman and there were many humorous moments in the show. The band ran around the stage pretending to be aeroplanes, and the set finished with Steve and Bob dismantling Todd Trainer's drumkit while he was still attempting to play it, before carrying off Todd himself. Shellac were the perfect way to end the weekend, and the only act I saw who inspired me to check out music that I don't already own.

A Short History Of Almost Something

Dresden Dolls singer Amanda Palmer celebrates her 33rd birthday this week. In her latest mailout, she seems a little depressed that some people, such as Jesus and John Lennon, had already done their best work by the time they reached 33. She also asks those of us on her mailing list to do something for her:

"i am going to actually ask, for the first time in my life, for a gift. from you. my people. here is what i'd like for my birthday:
please take this moment in time and think about one person, any person, who you think might like my music and my art. someone who doesn't know it. someone who does not have amanda fucking palmer in their life and might like her there. this does not have to be a peer. it could be a child, a mother, an ex, an uncle, an befriended
enemy, a co-worker, a long-lost friend, a whatever. ANYONE.
picture them in your mind. picture if their life might possibly be made better if you brought some afp into it.
NOW:
please send/get to them either of the following (in any format your lifestyle or computer literacy allows for) (and explain why you are sending this. explain why you like this artist. explain that it's her birthday and she's asked you, as a favor to her, to do this. the worst they will do is delete your email, tell you to fuck off, or disown you)

either 1 - a copy of WHO KILLED AMANDA PALMER. if you don't think they have the attention span for the whole album, send them a track. i cannot tell you how proud i am of this record i made. you may have heard the songs on youtube or live, but if you haven't heard the actual record, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. ben folds and i slaved over it for MONTHS. it's awesome. i know. i've heard it 1,392 times and it's still not boring.

or 2 - a youtube clip of one of your favorite AFP videos."

Amanda's solo album "Who Killed Amanda Palmer" was one of my favourite releases of last year, it's such a good record that I'm prepared to overlook the lack of punctuation in its title. But there might be copyright issues if I made the whole thing available for download here, so I guess I should go for option 2 and include a few videos.

We should probably start with "Oasis". I know some people reading this are not particularly keen on the Dresden Dolls (I can think of one person who hates them with a passion and has berated me on several occasions for wearing a Dolls t-shirt) but I don't think anyone could deny that this is one of the best pop songs of recent years. The video was apparently banned in the UK; it seems that many people can't cope with the topic of abortion. Amanda justifies the song's apparently flippant handling of a controversial subject: "When you cannot joke about the darkness of life, that's when the darkness takes over."




"Leeds United", also released as a single, is similarly catchy:



As well as these poppy numbers, the album contains some of Amanda's best piano ballads, in particular "Ampersand":


This final one is not included on the album, but it might interest the Radiohead fans who I know will be reading this:


Hopefully at least one person who reads this will now feel inspired to check out the album, and Amanda can stop worrying about not having achieved enough in her 33 years.

Know Who You Are At Every Age

LONEY, DEAR / SNOWBIRD - Birmingham Glee Club

I had come to the Glee Club mainly to see Loney, Dear but this turned out to be one of those rare shows where the support act outshines the headliners. Snowbird are fronted by Stephanie Dosen, whom I have never encountered before, but it seems she has put out a couple of records under her own name and, if her website is to be believed, she grew up on a peacock farm where she had a swan and a fox as pets. (She gives no details about how she prevented one pet from eating the other.) She resembles a young Courtney Love, but minus the aggression. In fact, Stephanie turns out to be one of the most twee people you could hope to meet. Her beautiful voice and haunting songs put me in mind of Marissa Nadler (who is also playing at the Glee Club in the coming weeks) and she soon has everyone spellbound with the stories she tells between the songs, particularly when she explains that one song was inspired by getting insects caught in her false eyelashes. These surreal anecdotes remind me why Kristin Hersh's solo gigs are such an endearing experience, and anyone who knows me will probably be aware that comparing someone to Kristin is not something I would do lightly.

Stephanie is backed by a nondescript middle-aged man playing keyboards. He seems to be content to sit at the back of the stage and let her take the limelight, and it's only halfway through the set when I glance at the venue's flyer left on my seat that I discover he is in fact... Simon Raymonde! Some of you probably know that amongst my various visual and physical awareness problems, I struggle with facial recognition and often identify people by their hair. Despite his prominence over the last few years with his Bella Union label, I don't think I've seen a recent picture of Simon and the image I will always have of him is from the photos of the classic Cocteau Twins line-up of the 1980s. In those days, he had quite recognisable hair, but obviously not much of that remains 25 years later. I feel rather ashamed when it becomes apparent that for about 30 minutes I've been watching a man who made a major contribution to my record collection, without actually realising who he is.



Whilst chatting to Stephanie and Simon later at the merchandise stall, I decide that it might be best not to tell him that I didn't recognise him now that he's old and bald. Is anyone spotting a recurring theme developing here, where I comment on the hair of middle-aged performers I've watched? I guess I should try to stop this, in case anybody thinks I'm a shallow teenager, choosing the acts I like on the strength of their hairstyles...

After the intermission, what we get from Loney, Dear is perhaps the worst kind of show as far as writing a review is concerned. It's pleasant enough but doesn't really inspire me to say anything good or bad about it. In fact, if it hadn't been for the opening act and the shock of seeing Simon Raymonde, I probably wouldn't be writing this at all. Loney, Dear is the project of Emil Svanängen from Sweden. I first saw him at the Iceland Airwaves festival a couple of years ago and enjoyed his set so I bought the album he had out at the time, "Loney, Noir". This album featured a number of sparse folk songs, reminiscent in places of Simon and Garfunkel. (I realise it's probably never been cool to like Simon and Garfunkel, but my dad was a big fan so they played a part in my musical upbringing.) I've listened to his latest release, "Dear John", a few times prior to the show, but it's made little impression on me. In fact if I'm honest, I wouldn't have bothered with the gig if the venue hadn't been offering free tickets. The set gets off to a reasonable start with "I Was Only Going Out", the most memorable song from the new album, sounding a bit like fellow Swede Jens Lekman. However, much of what follows just blurs into one and I find that I can't remember many of the songs within ten minutes of leaving the show. This may be down to the use of a full band; the drums in particular seem to dominate, making it hard to focus on Emil's singing. This is highlighted during a couple of rare delicate moments, particularly during one song that Emil performs without the band or even a microphone, relying on just his naked voice. The final encore of "Sinister In A State Of Hope" (perhaps the best song from the "Loney, Noir" album), where the band tone down their contribution, is also very effective and this leads me to the conclusion that the songs on the new album would be better if they were stripped down and played with just an acoustic guitar.

I don't want to write Loney, Dear off completely and I will persevere with the album to see if I can uncover the true heart of the songs beneath their excessive instrumentation. But if you want to check out Emil Svanängen's work then I suggest ignoring "Dear John" and getting "Loney, Noir" instead.

I Came To Your Party Dressed As A Shadow

GLEN JOHNSON - DETAILS NOT RECORDED

At first it seemed odd that Glen Johnson has chosen to release an album under his own name, as he already has his Textile Ranch solo project, and many people consider him to be synonymous with Piano Magic. His explanation for the release is that he had a number of new songs ready to record but Piano Magic were on a break and he couldn't wait for the band to get back together. I'm not sure if I believe this, given that regular Piano Magic contributors Jerome Tcherneyan and Angèle David-Guillou feature on "Details Not Recorded". After studying the lyrics and, in particular, the album's artwork, it seems more likely that Johnson is having a minor mid-life crisis and wants to forge an identity for himself separate from the Piano Magic brand.
Themes of identity and self-image run through the album. The cover painting, by Chicago artist Julia Haw, suggests someone who has lost his sense of individuality to the extent that his head has become invisible, and the inner sleeve depicts a man (presumably Johnson) with his face hidden by bandages. This theme continues throughout the lyrics. One song in particular, "My Horror Mask", suggests at first someone who is uncomfortable with their own physical appearance, and images of "The Elephant Man" come to mind. Closer reading of the lyrics reveals that the song's narrator feels constrained by his public persona and that nobody is aware of his true character due to the disguise he feels compelled to use. This idea is repeated on "I Know You Know My Name", where Johnson suggests that "few have seen my face" and "my words are but an act". In several songs, I thought I spotted lyrics that make oblique references to Piano Magic songs - for example, the opening line of "Save Me" is nearly identical to that of "Vacancies" from last year's "Dark Horses" EP. This may not have been intentional, or perhaps Johnson is hinting that he will never be completely free of that group.
For this album, Johnson has moved away from the harsh post-punk guitars of recent work, but not from the Piano Magic sound completely. Much of the album has a fragile, intimate feel reminiscent of 1999's "Low Birth Weight" (the first Piano Magic album that I owned) but with a few unexpected additions. There are frequent folk touches, courtesy of Willard Grant Conspiracy's Josh Hillman. At first this didn't seem like an obvious choice, as I have always considered Piano Magic to be a very English band and far removed from this kind of rural Americana. However, Hillman's strings provide a nice contrast to Johnson's electronics, and also reinforce the air of melancholy that permeates the album.
Regular readers may recall that after a recent gig, I felt that many of Piano Magic's songs offer an accurate depiction of my adult life. You are no doubt also aware that I often read the lyrics of a new release to see if I can relate them to my own experiences. I have been trying hard not to do that with "Details Not Recorded", as it would just be too depressing if I found that I resembled the character depicted in these songs. The entire album seems to be narrated by a man ill at ease with his own self-image, cut off from his friends and family but still obsessed with someone from his past. If the songs are autobiographical then I fear for Glen Johnson's emotional wellbeing. (And I hope that he didn't read my recent comments about his hair...)
Despite the unrelenting bleakness, I'm certain that "Details Not Recorded" will make it into my top 10 albums of 2009, which probably says more about me than it does about the music. Even if Johnson had intended this to be viewed as something separate from Piano Magic, I will still see it as part of their back catalogue; one of their best releases, in fact. For Piano Magic fans, this is an essential purchase, and for those not familiar with their work, this would be as good a place to start as any.

Sound Of Confusion

SPECTRUM - Birmingham Hare & Hounds

Spacemen 3 founder Pete "Sonic Boom" Kember is currently undertaking a tour of the UK. I've yet to find any reviews of the other gigs, but I'd be interested to hear how the rest of the tour is going. I'd like to think that the shambolic mess I witnessed on Friday night was a one-off but I fear that may not be the case. The first question that enters my mind as Sonic wanders onto the stage is "Does he ever age?"; his hair is shorter than I remember but he looks more like a gawky teenager than ever. I then start to wonder whether the show will ever start, as it's almost 11pm and he has already spent an inordinate amount of time setting up his keyboards.

After what seems like an eternity of dithering, we are finally treated to a set made up almost entirely of Spacemen 3 songs, or cover versions that used to feature in the Spacemen live set, such as "When Tomorrow Hits" and "Transparent Radiation". The only "new" song is "How You Satisfy Me", which is possibly Sonic's best post-Spacemen effort, but even that is 17 years old. From a nostalgic viewpoint, it's great to hear these songs played live, "Transparent Radiation" in particular, as Spacemen 3 were a permanent fixture on my turntable during my student days. But it's also apparent that Sonic relies too heavily on his old material, and he should maybe take some time out to write new songs. It's obvious why, in the post-Spacemen wars, Spiritualized are more popular. Jason Pierce may include one or two Spacemen songs in his live set but he could never be accused of living off past glories and has produced a large amount of quality material of his own since his infamous break-up with Sonic Boom during the recording of "Recurring".

I would have been prepared to forgive the unbalanced setlist, and probably even been excited to hear all those Spacemen 3 songs, if Sonic had noticed that there was a crowd there to see him, rather than just treating the gig like a rehearsal. He has become obsessed with quality control in a way that Kevin Shields could only dream of, and is constantly wandering around the stage tweaking the equipment. Perhaps the most irritating thing he does is to address the soundman over the microphone mid-song whenever he wants the bass turned up or down. This is not something I expect from someone who has been performing for over 20 years. The rest of band look embarrassed by his onstage behaviour.

As the set progresses, the gaps between the songs become longer than the songs themselves. Half the crowd have left already and Sonic has lost the attention of the ones who remain; they are now just chatting amongst themselves, uncertain whether he is actually going to play another song. After "Revolution", I decide to call it a night rather than risk missing the last bus. I don't like leaving a gig before the end but in this case Sonic was doing nothing to convince me I should stay. Maybe he played for another hour after I left and included some new songs, but I'm guessing that by this stage he was almost out of time anyway. I hate to sound so negative about someone I once admired, but this could easily have been a very enjoyable gig if Sonic had been more relaxed about the finer points of the sound and had just let things happen naturally. I guess Sonic no longer knows or cares what Jason is doing, but maybe he needs to watch a Spiritualized gig to see how it should be done.

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":