I have a dream...

I’ve come to a conclusion. It’s taken me a while but I think I’ve done it.

You remember when you were at school, you had to go and see a careers advisor? Yeah, well I can recall I said something along the lines of wanting to be an archaeologist. I liked History and I used to be great at digging on the beach in Swanage or in my old back garden. A couple of big old holes were dug there with my brother and our cousin.

I was 14 and I had to decide what subjects I would choose to do at GCSE, excluding the compulsories like Maths, Science, English and French (Five years of French, you’d think I’d be fluent). So they made us speak to an “expert” about what we wanted to be when we grew up. A fireman, a footballer, a policeman, a tomato. Due to my career choice, I had to make the difficult verdict of picking Art over Drama (always fun) and Music (ex-choir boy and player of the guitar)

I was to painting and drawing what Stevie Wonder is to bird watching and Stephen Hawking to the 100m sprint.

Fast forward 2 years and I couldn’t give a hairy toss about archaeology. Sixteen, full of testosterone and a laissez faire attitude I pitched up at 6^th Form College more interested in forming a band and getting laid than digging a ditch in Wiltshire.

Another two years on and I was at Uni in Southampton with a particular pastime of seeing how much beer and tequila I could consume before blacking out or nearly getting arrested for re-enacting the ‘Going Out’ video by Supergrass in the bandstand in the park.

By the time I woke up and found myself working in a British Gas call centre, I’d almost certainly lost all interest in becoming an archaeologist, let alone the lawyer I had pretended I wanted to be when embarking on the law degree three years before.

So, 21, penniless, back home and no career prospects. Despite being 7 years older, I had no idea what I wanted to be. If by my early twenties I couldn’t decide my vocation, how on earth was I supposed to know in my early teens.

Thirteen years later, I think I’ve cracked it. Sat a desk, administering pensions, 34 years old, I may have had my road-to-Damascus moment.

I want to own a record shop.

That probably doesn’t come as much of a surprise to many of you who have read more than one of my blogs. The title of the blog is a big clue. My constant banging on about vinyl is a big hint.

There is a certain romance about opening your shop in the morning, the regular customers, the new releases, the smell of the vinyl, the useless employees. It’s all bit ‘High Fidelity’ at the moment. I’m John Cusack and I’ll employ my Jack Black and Todd Louiso. Although if Jack comes in with a mixtape that starts with “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves then he’s fired.

As much as generally have a misanthropic view of the world, surely there can’t be too many people coming in and asking for One Direction or the ilk. I could have a poster made telling them to sod off to HMV.

There will be no chart, but there will be a very specific new releases section. It is forever a bugbear of mine that some independent shops don’t have an area for new releases, probably a ploy to get you to peruse the stacks of vinyl, but sometimes you do just want that specific L.P released that week.  

Right now is the perfect time. Vinyl is in it’s renaissance, which may not last for that long, so the time to act is now. It’s still fairly niche, and that is unlikely to change unless the world abandons the digital revolution or there is a huge computer crash and we’re sent back into the dark ages when all we have is a wind-up gramophone. Therefore, only the discerning, vinyl obsessed nerd will come to my store. Basically, people like me. I will find my people. My kin.

I will get to live my favourite pastime. Listen to music and talk about music to people like me. We will argue and debate and have endless cups of tea and coffee and then close at 5.25, and run round to the pub, stick something great on the jukebox and chat more nonsense. Then get a kebab and go home and start the whole crazy merry-go-round again in the morning.

Well that’s the dream anyway. A fantasy. A film. A novel. Dreamt up, sat at my desk. Bored out of my tiny mind.

Desert Island Discs

About five years ago when I was back at my Mum’s after splitting with my ex, I went through a prolonged period of insomnia. I was in the box room as my younger brother had moved into my old room and in this tiny, cramped space, full of my earthly possessions which didn’t amount to an awful lot (except for the CD’s) I would lie in bed watching nonsense on cable channels and DVD boxsets until the very wee small hours.

 

I would also, if the mood took me, listen to podcasts, mostly in the vain hope they would send me to sleep, which in some cases they did. I went through quite a few, Dave Gorman and Frank Skinners Absolute Radio shows, the Guardian Music and Football Weekly downloads, BBC History Magazine podcasts (that worked quite a few times actually, despite it being very interesting, the people they spoke to were by and large, dull academics with incredibly soporific voices) and also Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs. I would generally dip in and out of these when I heard of someone I particularly liked being on it or at least would be interesting, including Rob Brydon, Frank Skinner, Martin Sheen, Terry Gilliam, Roger Waters, Tony Robinson, Russell Brand, Danny Baker and more.

 

There have been occasions in the past year or so that I have gone back to listen to some people in particular, like Morrissey.

 

The other day I saw a status on social media about Noel Gallagher being on it. If there is any interview or radio or TV show with Noel on it I will devour it. I could listen to that man talk all day. Not only is he very funny, he is incredibly engaging and fascinating, not least because he is liable to change his mind about something he said years before.

 

Typically, he was all these things but he also spoke more honestly than I think I’ve ever heard him before. Possibly being grilled by a journalist with no agenda like Kirsty Young, who isn’t necessarily a fan nor critic, allowed him to let his guard down.

 

Naturally, this got me thinking. In the incredibly unlikely event I will ever be invited to appear on the show, what would my eight tracks be? So, I took it upon myself to compile my Desert Island Discs.

 

I think I did this before, probably at the time I first listened to the shows, and I have a pretty good idea what they would have been. I did have to make a list of 5 or 6 songs that hinted to my age, so that Robin Ince could guess how old I was, based on my music choices and taste, on Steve Lamacq’s 6Music Show. From what I can recall, some of those appear here. Some don’t.

 

Listening to Guy Garvey’s from last year, he makes the point that his choices weren’t actually his favourite songs of all time, but those that would sustain him, isolated and alone on a desert island. When thinking of mine I can see what he means. Some of these aren’t necessarily my favourites but they remind me of special people and times. A lot has happened to me over the past five years and a lot has happened to my friends and family.

 

So here they are:

 

1)      Rockin’ all over the World – Status Quo
 
It’s Live Aid, it’s me and my brother, it’s a silly party piece we do at weddings and birthday parties (the swinging guitar necks) when the DJ puts it on. It’s the opening track on “12 Gold Bars” the first record I owned that my Dad bought me and I played to absolute death. I am an unashamed fan of The Quo. They aren’t a guilty pleasure they are just great and I don’t care.
 
2)      Brown Sugar – The Rolling Stones
 
Another family wedding, birthday, bar mitzvah disco song, doing the Mick Jagger hands-on-hips and exaggerated clapping. It’s the song I think I most associate with my Mum, although I could equally have chosen Alright Now by Free or All or Nothing by The Small Faces, but it’s also just one of the greatest bits of rock’n’roll music. You can’t sit still listening to it.
 
3)      Some Might Say - Oasis
 
In Our Price with two of my friends just before my 14^th birthday, we used to by each other singles as we were poor teenagers, too young to work and too frivolous to save up pocket money. I chose two: Michelle Gayle – Sweetness and this. For some reason, my head had been filled with chart pap, I’d been buying some awful stuff with my pocket money for years and I didn’t seem to have the friends or influence to via off into the right path, until I heard Some Might Say on the radio. I think possibly the opening bars are quite reminiscent of Status Quo bar chords so that may have turned my head, I’m not sure, but it was a game changer.
 
4)      The Chad who loved me – Mansun
 
The James Bond Theme that never was (although that was never likely when the name was a complete rip-off), I can vividly remember going and buying this, riding down to town straight from school. It was March ’97 so I was preparing for my GCSE’s and was out the back of the house on the sole computer we had and I think I must have played it a good three times but whenever the strings come in at the beginning it takes me back to then and as the sunset in the patio doors behind me and dark descended I must have pressed play again.
 
5)      You do something to me – Paul Weller
 
The wife and I’s first dance, played by the band we had, so not this version, but it will forever be our first song and I will be transported back to that weekend in May, two of the best days of my life, where I married the best thing ever to happen to me.
 
6)      Dear Friends – Elbow
 
If I’m stranded on a desert island with just these eight songs, the bible (good for starting a fire) the complete works of Shakespeare (think I’d get a bit bored after a couple of plays and maybe a sonnet or two) and a luxury item, they will have to be bits of home and things that make me happy to keep me sane and my best friends have definitely done that over the years.  The first line “You are angels and drunks, you are magi” pretty much sums them up, and I always think of them when I hear it.
 
7)      Tap at my Window – Laura Marling
 
“He taps at my window, willing that I let him in…..”
When I first started seeing the girl that is now my wife, she lived in a basement flat below a terraced house. I had recently heard the third record by Laura Marling that summer before and I had fallen under the spell of this amazing voice that invokes and pays homage to the greats, most notably Joni Mitchell. There was a fair amount of record collection comparison those first few months and Laura’s first was a particular favourite of hers and it was played a lot in that flat. This song became to mean a huge amount to us, mainly because when I’d finished a shift and closed the pub I was a duty manager at, I would go back to hers and have to knock at the window at street level for her to let me in.
 
8)      In my life – The Beatles
 
As Mr G said himself on the programme, you have to have something by the greatest band of all time. A band that have been with me my entire life, from, as my Mum told me, sitting in the pushchair singing a long whilst in the town centre when I was very small, to considering something to be used on the CD we gave to the Registry Office. As it happened we didn’t use anything by them, but my choice was this, In my Life, as it encapsulated everything I wanted that day to mean, not just about my wife, but my family and friends. It isn’t necessarily my favourite Beatles song, but then there are so many to choose from.
 
These songs could be different in a few years’ time. They were probably different a few years ago.
It all depends where are you now, where you were at the time and where you might be.

Wolf Alice - My Love is Cool

You know when you think you have heard a band before, a song on the radio, or you’ve streamed a track or even seen them as support for someone. You hear the name floated about, their debut or new album is out and there is a lot of hype and excitement. But you don’t check it out because you think you know what they sound like, what the style of music is. You’ve lumped them into a category of band you don’t really like and you don’t really care for them.

 

I did that. Just the past couple of weeks. I was so sure I knew what Wolf Alice sounded like. I had seen pictures and they were covered in gold glitter and I decided to myself that I knew everything about them. They were one of those bands that like the light touch, summery pop with no substance and yet everyone seems to think they’re the bees knees.

 

Yet, it was a none stop barrage of news, interviews and hyperbole and it was hard to ignore. So I took a sneaky peek. I read a piece and a word jumped out at me; “grunge”?!?!?!?

 

Really? Grunge?? Are you sure???

 

Delving into the recesses of my brain, I remembered that they supported Alt-J at the O2, which sounded like a weird combination for a ‘grunge’ band.

 

In the here and now, ‘grunge’ might be pushing it somewhat. Certainly when it comes to this record, “My Love is Cool”, their debut L.P.

 

I had to discover what this lot sounded like. I wanted to prove someone wrong, me or the writer of the article. Turns out it was me.

 

Whilst I appreciate everything the internet provides us, I’m a purest in some instances, especially when it comes to an album release. I like to listen to it in its entirety, from my own copy. I’ll listen to a single that’s being streamed by the band or on a music website and maybe the odd other video of older stuff on Youtube, but if I like it, I’ll buy it.  It harks back to a simpler time, when we had no internet, no social media, no streams, no downloads, not even Napster. You looked on Teletext and bought NME, Melody Maker, Select or Q for your music news. You listened to the radio. You taped the radio. When Oasis were releasing “Be Here Now” I actively avoided hearing the exclusive plays of some of the album tracks on Steve Lamacq’s Evening Session. I walked into Our Price the week before the release and they were playing something I liked the sound of, and then Liam’s unmistakeable voice came out of the speakers. I walked straight back out. There’s something special about having that CD/Vinyl in your grubby mitts and sitting there listening to it in your bedroom/living room for the first time. The exclusive’s, especially if it consists of a number of songs, diminish that moment you first press play or drop the needle.

 

Therefore, I resisted the Spotify streams, not least as I don’t have an account, or any other provider of the album in full. I did download the E.P’s, “Blush” and “Creature Songs” which became a staple of the morning walk to work.

 

I’ve listened to so much of their stuff now I can’t remember the first thing I heard. It may have been “You’re a Germ”. The one that smacked me on the head and made me doubt everything I thought I knew was “Moaning Lisa Smile”. There is your “grunge”. The guitar sound is dirty and grimy and crunchy and delicious. Ellie’s vocal is just high enough in the mix to be both perfectly loud and quiet at the same time. When it kicks from quiet verse to loud, distorted chorus, it almost sounds like it’s a surprise to the sound engineer and the vocals are taken along for the ride instead of being pushed to the top. It’s the Breeders with more pop sensibilities and Ellie channels her inner Kim Deal whilst nodding to Hayley Williams.

 

It comes as a shock that it doesn’t make the album. As lead track on their E.P “Creature Songs” from last year, it isn’t indicative of the other three songs and stands alone as the most straight forward homage to the likes of the Pixies and Nirvana.

 

If anything, it comes across as being a decision made by the band to not short change the diehard fans and to be constantly pushing forward. Adding any of the eight tracks from the two previously released E.P’s could have been seen as step backwards and for all those who had followed them from the beginning and had those songs, they probably wouldn’t have been happy with a repeat performance. This is despite very early singles “Bros” and “Fluffy” being re-worked for the album.

 

However, for those of us who are always late to these parties, mainly as we are older and more out of touch and they didn’t have our address to send the invite, if “My Love is Cool” is the first thing you have heard or bought then some of the bands strongest stuff is being missed. Of course you can go back and find these gems, it isn’t hard, but in today’s society we are lazy and fickle and if it doesn’t grab us immediately we move onto the next band. We miss out. They will miss out.

 

Sonically, “MLIC” is different to the earlier E.P’s. Edges have been smoothed, a production sheen added and the songs are less raw and loud. In some instances. There are glimpses of that side still in previously mentioned “You’re a Germ” and “Giant Peach” with “Your Love Whore” introduced with ever increasing layers of guitar. The album starts in stark contrast, as “Turn to Dust” is all sweet vocals and liquid guitar, very atmospheric and a calm beginning. “Bros” follows but doesn’t take it up more than a notch. It’s a gradual opening that starts to take off with “Your Love Whore” and really gets into gear with “You’re a Germ” but the momentum is lost a little with “Lisbon” that doesn’t take the baton and run with it. “Silk” and  “Freazy” are nice breezy pop but when “Giant Peach” goes off the album comes back alive. Despite “Swallowtail” slowing the pace back down it doesn’t actually have the same impact on the flow as it is a slow, acoustic song that changes tack completely and if anything helps the album by adding a moment of reflection after the assault of “Giant Peach”. Although, it does come back in with a final volley of guitars and drums crescendo.

 

“Soapy Water” has a trip-hop, Portishead sound with a nod to Stereolab and doesn’t seem out of place after the acoustic lament previous but the thrash of “Fluffy” resonates on Elastica. There are many influences on Ellie Rowsell’s voice and she apes a number of them. The sickly sweet “Turn to Dust” has the strains of Joanna Newsom, on “Fluffy” she sounds like Justine Frischman, and on other tracks she can go from Gwen Stefani to multitracked harmonies sounding like Kenickie. "The Wonderwhy" is epic closer with a secret track finding Ellie alone with her guitar asking for someone to teach her rock and roll. Something she doesn't appear to need to learn.

 

After listening to the two E.P’s and waiting in anticipation for the album as plaudits and praise were lavished upon it, statements such as “best debut album for a decade” just built this record up in my head.

 

This is a good debut album, it has some great songs on it, but it doesn’t quite hit the heights it should. This opinion has been echoed elsewhere amongst the 8,9 and 10 out of 10 reviews, and it isn’t because this is a bad record or the band aren’t good. They are. Very good. They are brilliant live, and that is just based on coverage of Glastonbury this and last year, and a few sessions. I think the very problem that they released two brilliant E.P’s that would have been the majority of a truly brilliant album is where “My Love is Cool” doesn’t quite step up. The middle three of “Lisbon”, “Silk” and “Freazy” could have been replaced by “Moaning Lisa Smile”, “Storms” and “Blush” and this would have been truly, truly stunning. That isn’t to say that those former three aren’t good songs on their own, but together and in comparison to the latter they pale. Indeed, the U.S version of the album has “Moaning Lisa Smile” in-between “Your Love Whore” and “You’re a Germ” which would have made sense and only improved it.

 

This record has been on something of a constant repeat for a week or so now and it grows into a snarling beast. It is definitely one of the albums of the year, but if it had the tweaks mentioned above it would be one of the albums of the past of the past 15 years. A melting pot of genres and sounds and styles, spliced and diced and turned into Wolf Alice.

 

Quarter 2

It’s that time again. We’re half way through 2015, and what a half! Personally and musically speaking.

A few months ago I wrote about my favourite releases of the first three months of the year in an unprecedented quarterly review. Yes, you’ve all read and heard the annual countdowns and the half year choices of every website and magazine with an interest in all things aural, but I came out with a tri-monthly report on the records that floated my boat because, frankly, there was too much stupendous stuff being put out there that I was just too darn terrified that too many mind blowingly, ball bouncingly brilliant slabs of vinyl and plastic and invisible noughts and one’s were going to come out in the subsequent nine months that I’d forget all about them and not mention them.

Part of the paranoia that consumed me was based on the stature of some of the bands and artists releasing these monolithic records. Most of them were fairly unknown, little heard of groups that were too flippin’ good for me not to blow their trumpet and bang on constantly about on social media till even they were probably sick of the sound of my tweets.

The following three months have been no different. Some from very well-known but absent goliaths of Indie, some from bands on the periphery of the mainstream and some that no one will have heard of but need to.

We’ve also had the pleasure of Record Store Day in April, but I’m loathed to include any re-issues or special picture discs of singles from the 70’s and 80’s. There were some brilliant things that deserve inclusion for being in the spirit of what RSD should be all about. I will mention the We are Scientists 8-track vinyl RSD release of re-workings of songs from their 2014 album “TV en Francais” called “TV en Francais sous la Mer” with every track name having ‘..under the sea’ tacked on the end. It’s a clever and very good reworking of already good songs (the album made the 2014 Best 10 albums) but it’s effectively already been released so it won’t be making the Quarter 2 Top 5 records.

Also, honourable mention must go to the Sufjan Stevens album “Carrie & Lowell” a staggeringly open and honest record about the death of his mother. Heartbreakingly so. This was technically released in March, the 30^th in fact, so it shouldn’t really be included in the April to June list but it did only just come out before the deadline, so I feel duty bound to mention it as it is a great record. Check out the Gold Flake Paint review of it anyway for a brilliant piece of writing about it.

So here’s the list:

Eaves – What Green Feels Like : I said I was anticipating the album of the year from Joseph Lyons, and I think he’s delivered it. The three tracks from his eponymous E.P from last year are re-recorded and given bulk by added instrumentation and backing vocals from Steph Fraser. The strength of songwriting stands out and what surprises are the big, full band tracks that weren’t hinted it before on ‘Timber’ and ‘Spin’ despite the likes of ‘Pylons’ and ‘As Old as the Grave’ being more than just him and his guitar. Latest single ‘Dove in your mouth’ and others such as ‘Hom-a-Gum’ and ‘Purge’ are the sound of a cohesive band recording, born out by their live performance. Added excitement is that he announced in an interview recently (confirmed by responding to one of my endless streams of tweets about him) that an E.P will be released of new songs in October, with a deluxe version of the record due out with the new songs. On tour with Mumford and Sons in Europe right now, his star will rise.

Joanna Gruesome – Peanut Butter: special mention to Alcopop Records here for introducing me to this lot through the Sensible Record Label RSD Compilation vinyl. Packed full of 11 songs from 11 different artists on 11 different independent labels, it showcased a brilliant broad array of styles and sounds. This lot’s “There is no function Stacey”, a Menace Beach exclusive and some great stuff from Tellison, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart and Alvvays being highlights. The following second L.P from Cardiff’s Joanna Gruesome was a sublime 22 minutes slice of pop. It is without doubt going to soundtrack my summer.

Blur – The Magic Whip: They’re back. AND THEY’RE GREAT!! What a relief. “Go out” took a while to gets its hook in and stay there, but subsequent tracks like “Lonesome Street” and “There are too many of us” confirmed this was going to be a return with form. A balance was struck perfectly between the Blur we all know and love and the slightly more experimental sides of “13” and “Think Tank” coupled with Damon’s huge palette of musical colours.

Stornoway – Bonxie: Under the radar they may well stay, unfortunately, but this, the Oxford band’s 3^rd full length, is such a delight. They’ll never be trendy, or cool; they’re bird watchers for crying out loud. They do make brilliant, brilliant music, especially here. They are folk, but you wouldn’t lump them in with an earnest, political side of the genre, they make happy music about zorbing and procrastinating and they do something most bands would struggle to do; they induce silence in a crowd when they perform their a Capella songs, like this records “Josephine”. Go and find ‘Get Low’, ‘The Road you didn’t take’ and “Love song of the Beta Male”. Joyous.  

Wolf Alice – My Love is Cool: It's sneaked in at the last minute, and the eleventh hour. Mainly as I only ordered it at the end of last week, but it's been spinning for a little while now and I'm writing about in conjunction with this, which will be up in a few days.

So, what's up next? At the end of the month Mark Morriss of The Bluetones releases his third studio album, a covers album which is sounding really good. Editors have teased and poked us with hidden tracks on mixtapes and limited edition 12" vinyl's in Oxfam and the 5th album is ready to go. We just don't know when. The Maccabees 4th record, Marks to Prove It, drops this month and the first two slices are far, far superior to everything but 'Pelican' from 'Given to the Wild'. Eaves has surprised us by announcing the E.P for October and there has been hints regarding Menace Beach releasing an E.P very soon. Desperate Journalist have been tweeting about recording again so hopefully we'll se that before 2015 is out.

Of course, there'll be more I haven't heard of yet appearing on my radar. I just hope I have the funds for all the vinyl my addiction will compel me to buy.

Send help!!