It was kind of, sort of my intention to start September with an intent to update this daily where possible again. I have nothing prepared so we'll see what becomes of this notion. Last eek at this time I was in MRC basking I the sunshine and excellent company. Today, I'm in the bunker looking out on a decidedly autumnal day expecting the rain to pish down at any second. Most likely when I go out the front door.

There's a bunch of stuff that I guess I want to write about but I don't know if that will actually translate into wordage. One thing I'm not going to do is continue with a slew of RIPs. Of course if something significant should occur (and I hope to hell it doesn't) then of course I'll have to bend that but let's hope that these are few and far between. The other thing I'm a little aware of is that "the blog" has had it's day. Not just this one, pretty much all of them.

As have websites that don't "sell" stuff in general. I don't find that I have the time to trawl anymore. Not that I'm really doing anything else of great importance but the web bores the heck out of me. As for viewing stuff on mobile devices, don't "eben" get me started on that shitstorm. However, this portal exists and there enough visitors here to suggest that I should at least make an effort. I don't like this laptop as much as I did the fixed PC that I used to have. I'd much rather be anywhere else but where I'm stuck but there are flecks of light out there on the horizon.

As I sit here contemplating, Mr D'uff just flagged this up...



And  as I set sail last Friday, some wonderful new ACC music dropped in so as you can see, sonically - things are going OK.

I can't get the widget thing to appear so click here to go to the Soundcloud page where other wonders from Sausalito also appear.

 

Still shell-shocked after an all too short roll in the Moss Rock City thunder. Got back V late last night and the fog outside replicated that which is in my heid today. Two Dahlmanns sets over the course of Saturday in the shadow of the old paper mill that was an employment staple forever until the interweb made their product obsolete. However, don’t get me stated about that. Look at the company logo. Isn’t that great?

 

So the kids were suitably enjoyed by the attendees. The festival itself wasn’t exactly run with military precision but it got there. Missed Black Debbath but heard their almighty racket from town as we wandered toward the site. This was the first time I heard the D’s do “I Know You Want Me Back Again”, a song that will be a 45 sometime sooner rather than later I hope. Written by the hit factory that made “Solna” the solid treat that it is.

 

Quite a late finish on Sunday morning because some smartarse (me) took a wrong turn on the road back to base. I’m glad I did though because wandering in the maze on a clear night was quite a peaceful exercise. It must be great to stay in that location tucked up on the hill yonder.

 

A low gear day and we had a Svele party at Casa Andreassen. A Svele is a big pancake, double the thickness of a crumpet and about the same circumference. Tasty gear. A wee wander afterwards to say au revoir to my dance partner and a quick pit stop at the beach completed the trip that is hopefully my last to Torp. Much as I love the ferry journey, it’s a pain in  the arse for Andre to schlep me there and back.

 

There is good news. Ryan-err are starting to fly from Edinburgh to the much closer Rygge on November 6^th. That will make such trips considerably easier from both sides. Not that the citizens there need fear constant bombardment by me, I hope some of them will come out this way to the daftest wee country in the world before things go completely skew wiff.

 

The fog outside is gone. Things are getting autumnal but the gridlock in my napper continues abated. The next jaunt is to The Pipeline for The Nomads/Dahlmanns London bash with The Hip Priests and The Outbursts. Approximately a month away. And once again, Madrid not long after. I'm kind of seizing the moment here...

When I saw Rich Nesin’s note about Allen Lanier this morning I had to do a double take. Been keeping the RIP’s in check lately but this one resonates. Blue Öyster Cult made a big impression on a 15 year old me and opened the door to pretty much everything. They were punk rock at the time before the term was corporate-ised. Often lumped with the metal albatross, the band was closer to something like the MC5 but the songs were really something else. The concept of “stun guitar” was an exciting prospect and it all made some kind of sense when they claimed “we’re pain, we’re steel, a plot of knives...”. It still does. Listen to any of these early records and they stand up to the test of time far more than anything by The Clash. Actually the best album those guys made were with BÖC’s producers. Go figure.

 

And of course those same producers were responsible for something by the name of The Dictators Go Girl Crazy. Indeed HDM mentioned today that Lanier played some keyboards on there, presumably he was Alan Glover? Don’t think I was ever aware of that.

RIP - Allen Lanier

 

Just lately it hasn’t been too easy to get away from myself. After a bit of gallivanting I crashed back to earth and find myself wondering WTF is going on. Attempts at getting out of the house on weekends have met with mixed results. Even to the cinema. Although that had a positive blip last night because I dragged my hiney out to see Beyond Midnight. I’ve always liked Julie Delpy and even bumped into her once in Edinburgh with her parents when “Two Days in Paris” was at the EIFF. The follow up to that wasn’t good but I don’t really blame that on her. It seemed mean spirited and that’s something I don’t think she is. She was back up to her usual standard here.

 

Anyway, it’s good and a worthy catch up in the cycle of this Linklater trilogy. Could there be another instalment? Who knows the way things go in these franchised times but if I’m still around then I’ll give it a whirl. Probably.

 

One of these days I might even get around to writing about music again. I’ve become a fan of silence. And even quiet. This often manifests as boredom however and has a habit of keelhauling any semblance of sleep. Pass out sometime around 8, wake in a stupor around 11 and then only feel like sleeping when it’s time to get up. Maybe I’m stuck on Madrid time but unfortunately the distractions which exist there aren’t available here.

 

The Del Lords shows in Newcastle (October 26^th) and London (November 11^th) have been announced so those look like the bookends to the euro-trip. There’s a festival in Spain on November 2^nd where they’ll share a bill with The Dictators NYC. It’s a bit of a pickle...

 

The latter part of the ’13 looks like being hectic. The Nomads/Dahlmanns/Hip Priests and another combo in London on October 5^th is something of an opening salvo. Ms Laura Cantrell is in Glasgow the night before we head down there. All show details here. It’s good to have her back and I’m just waiting on the nod as to when the “No Way There From Here” album will be released. I’m guessing maybe the Monday before that but I’ll confirm that in due course. “Can’t Wait”? Me neither.

 

There's something fucked with the font size on this blogger thing. Maybe it'll sort itself out, maybe it won't. I can't figure out how to correct it and it's stupid crap like this that makes me want to walk away from ever being on a computer ever again. Also, depending on the browser you're viewing it on, maybe through a bloody phone or a "tablet" then it could look even worse. If you do then don't fret - there are bigger fish to fry. Truly.

RIP - Mick Farren

RIP - Faye Hunter

RIP - T-Model Ford

Espaňa por favor...

I have a Madrid thing going on. Well a Spanish thing in general but I find myself having been to the capital 4 times since last August. It’s getting to the point of delusional when I walk across Sol and feel more at home than actual home is these days. A touch of the old Wynn Stewart’s kicking in there methinks but let me tell you, it’s not a bad feeling.

So let’s accentuate the positive for a bit and consign the dark arts of French air traffic control to the dustbin. Or pipican. Three and a half hours late in getting to town... nuff said. As it was, at least I got there. Some other folks were left stranded.

I hit that old cuidad running alright and joined Murky, Eva and Lisa for some Mahou lubrication and tortilla then toddled up to meet Missy Ruth and Francisco just afore show time. The Young Fresh Fellows at El Sol is one of those total treats. There’s no such venue anywhere else and people will tell you that Glasgow audiences are the best in the world. That is not so. It may have been at one time but not anymore. Much drinking and dancing was done by all and this, followed by a session just around the corner in that home away from home, the mighty Wurlitzer. I saw a Tim Warren blast on fb recently declaring that British music was Americanised to be shipped back a la coals to Newcastle.
 

I tend to agree with that and the Fellows are another outstanding example of this theory in action. Hell’s teeth, I can even stand Beatle songs when they do them. Guide set lists weren’t adhered to and of the three shows I saw all of them were different. Sign of a class act that ain’t painted into a corner.

You see a pattern emerging here, right? Thursday was an early start for some of us, leading up to the A-Bones show and a subsequent late finish on Friday morning. Brooklyn’s finest and the W are an explosive combination and this was the first show they’d done with Bloodshot Bill sitting in for the other BB. The festivities went on even later than the previous night (morning?). The combo Teenage Mutant Trash that opened were pretty good too. Listen.

Just as well that Friday was a little less hectic then on the run up to leaving town. Travelling with Francisco and Ruth was a total treat for Lisa and I. Off the scale great. The coolest company one could ever hope to be in and what fantastic  terrain. Driving through mountain tunnels, one of them was a total mindblower where we went from bright blue and warm to dropping more than 15 degrees and sub-tropically dreich. Like a Jurassic trossachs and humming of eucalyptus. Warmer than Scotland ever gets but very similar appearance wise.

We arrive in Avilés, drop the gear at our cool, off kilter digs and get to the venue just before the band hit the stage. We missed The Reformers sadly and I figured that we’d see them in Vitoria, not knowing that they weren’t playing. The show took place underground from a giant egg designed by Oscar Niemeyer. Really I never dreamed it. Another blinder of a set that bore no resemblance to the setlist, a highpoint being a twisted re-telling of The Seekers “Georgy Girl”.



After the festivities, we hit a place called Malawy that was the only place we could find that passed for “food”. Locals stared at the TV sets even although there was nothing on there like they would in some science fiction mini-series. Tad ordered a vegetarian sandwich that came with a slice of ham but Ruth sorted it. The rest of us would have eaten a scabby horse and may well have done so.

The drive next day to Vitoria was equally epic. What a fantastic part of the world Northern Spain is. And how lucky were we to get to see it like this? There was time to explore a bit when we got to town and we even found a bar that served kalimotxo but never imbibed. A wee siesta was called for prior to heading for Hell Dorado, a place I’d heard about but never visited. What a joint. They serve drinks in glass glasses and people smoke. Just like vintage Espaňa. It’s like a recreation of the old NY Ritz. With perfect sound and layout, a really cracking place on the outskirts of town that is a credit to the folks who run it like a private club. Aptly named Club Sonico, this would be the perfect place to shoot a live video should anyone good feel the need to do so.

A bunch of shows in that area over this weekend was perhaps that was the reason why the place wasn’t packed but there was still a healthy attendance and those who went along were treated to a far better version of “Teenage Kicks” than I’m sure what traded as the actual Undertones delivered up the road.  We threw dance shapes long into the night and the dj played The Ben Vaughn Combo and The Skeletons and NRBQ and all was well with the world. The opening act was called something to do with Trash too but I can't recall the actual name. The girl in the band reminded me of Kim (Schifino).

Returned to our hotel in the wee hours again. This was the last show. It was almost over and I don’t think any of us wanted it to end. Next morning we met up for breakfast afore hitting the road and all too soon we were heading back toward Madrid and the airport but not before some more pintxos at Cafe Pancho and a wander in Burgos though. It was rough when we finally said “so long” but this will be continued. Somehow, somewhere, sometime. This is not over.

You can see a whole host of clips here. Fill your boots. Thanks to Gordon and Christophe.

A little down the page there, you read me typing about being tired of hearing about people dying. I never met James Gandolfini but I feel like I did. So waking up the morning the news about him broke (no extended pun intended) was shocking. I was obsessed with The Sopranos and I recall meeting Steven Van Zandt at Joey’s Birthday party he same weekend as Silvio killed Adriana. That was pretty amazing. There’s a photo of Avy and I with him outside Irving Plaza and he’s holding an Amy Allison CD but anyway I digress.

Thinking about how he bowed out in Italy correlates with something I was thinking while I was in Spain. Can’t recall if I said it out loud or not but it goes something like this. If it is at all possible, I want to go down doing what I was doing like that. While I imagine that it would cause undue hassle for a club, restaurant owner or perish forbid – my dance partner but it would be my choice to keel over in front of The Dahlmanns or the YFF or The A-Bones or the Quattros or just with the crew. Gandolfini was 4 years younger than me and that’s the wake up call right there. Another prod.

The fact that I haven’t gotten over (and may well never) this most recent adventure is neither there nor here. Took LAST Friday off to attend to mundanities like the central heating and car servicing so that meant I could schlep into Glasgow on Thursday evening. The reason? To meet  and hang out with Monsieur Jacques Ball of the Dig It! Parish and man of science with a beat on the “laws of physics”.  What a gent! And great stories too plus he told me that Ben Vaughn will be making for France

Cinema-wise, I saw "Populaire" and liked it. Wasn’t really able to do the EIFF like I saw two movies.  “The Berlin File” lollygads a bit to begin with but then it hits a high octane stride. It makes the most recent "Die Hard" and all that shit CGI look like "Driving Miss Daisy". I smell a sequel too so I’ll be looking out for that. “Call Girl” isn’t exactly a cakewalk but it’s an excellent film. It has an inherent seediness that has become a staple of Scandinavian grit. Even although the perceived idea that Sweden is a shining example, it is obviously beholden to the same corruption and sleaze as everyplace else. There was one little piece that actually made me shudder. Attention to detail of the period is exemplary too.

I got out of the habit of watching festival coverage on TV. Mostly because the acts they show on there stink. But a band or an act is a business to some degree and they’re working and presumably earning. None of my business that most of them don’t deserve a second glance far less listen but let’s leave that to one side. It’s an opportunity to be seen and heard, It potentially increases an acts audience exponentially and everything grows.

That my interest in music hasn’t waned to see me acting my actual age is a cause of much pondering to me. It may not necessitate analysis or even matter but something that does bring it into sharp focus is just how awful much of the perceived entertainment is nowadays. Aided and abetted by this chuffing internet which seems much more of a curse than a blessing to me at this point.

I’m at sixes and sevens. No - make that sixteens and seventeens maybe. Weekends flash by so quickly, particularly when you have no idea where to start with using such precious time wisely. I’m currently trying to deal with seemingly having ingested a hundred or so lines of uncut pollen having finally “tackled” the beast known as “The Hedge”. And no, that’s not the moniker of some balloon from a Boner + Co tribute band.

It’s been a while. Still haven’t managed to pull together my latest travelogue but I’m close. A little down the page there, you read me typing about being tired of hearing about people dying. I never met James Gandolfini but I feel like I did. So waking up the morning the news about him broke (pun intended) was shocking. I was obsessed with The Sopranos and recall meeting Steven Van Zandt at Joey’s Birthday party he same weekend as Silvio killed Adriana. That was pretty amazing. There’s a photo of Avy and I with him outside Irving Plaza and he’s holding an Amy Allison CD but anyway I digress.

 

Thinking about how he bowed out in Italy correlates with something I was thinking while I was in Spain. Can’t recall if I said it out loud or not but it goes something like this. If it is at all possible, I want to go down doing what I was doing like that. While I imagine that it would cause undue hassle for a club, restaurant owner or perish forbid – my dance partner but it would be my choice to keel over in front of The Dahlmanns or the YFF or The A-Bones or... actually just with my crew someplace. Gandolfini was 4 years younger than me and that’s a wake up call right there. Another prod.

 

The fact that I haven’t gotten over (and may well never) this most recent Spanish adventure is neither there nor here. Took LAST Friday off to attend to mundanities like the central heating and car servicing so that meant I could schlep into Glasgow on Thursday evening. The reason? To meet  and hang out with Monsieur Jacques Ball of the Dig It! Parish and man of science with a beat on the “laws of physics”.  What a gent! And great stories too plus he told me that Ben Vaughn will be making for France.

 

Cinema-wise, I saw "Populaire" and really liked it. Wasn’t really able to do the EIFF like I used to do but last Sunday I plumped for two movies.  “The Berlin File” lollygads a bit to begin with but then it hits a high octane stride. It makes the most recent Die Hard and all that shit CGI look like "Driving Miss Daisy". I smell a sequel too so I’ll be looking out for that. “Call Girl” isn’t exactly a cakewalk but it’s an excellent film. It has an inherent seediness that has become a staple of Scandinavian grit. Even although the perceived idea that Sweden is a shining example, it is obviously beholden to the same corruption and sleaze as everyplace else. There was one little piece that actually made me shudder. Attention to detail of the period is exemplary too.

 

I sort of got out of the habit of watching festival coverage on TV. Mostly because the acts they show on there – in my opinion – stink. But a band or an act is a business to some degree and they’re working and presumably earning. None of my business that most of them don’t deserve a second glance far less listen but let’s leave that to one side. It’s an opportunity to be seen and heard, It potentially increases an acts audience exponentially and everything grows.

 

That my interest in music hasn’t waned to see me acting my actual age is a cause of much pondering to me. It may not necessitate analysis or even matter but something that does bring it into sharp focus is just how awful much of the perceived entertainment is nowadays. Aided and abetted by this chuffing internet which seems much more of a curse than a blessing to me at this point.

 

I’m at sixes and sevens. No - make that sixteens and seventeens maybe. Weekends flash by so quickly. Particularly when you have no idea where to start with using such precious time wisely.

RIP - Alistair (William Mysterious) Donaldson

Haven't been able to find out what happened. Had been trying to get a hold of him recently to sign a printers proof of the US CD longbox. The idea was to auction it for charity or something. Needless to say that didn't happen. A damn shame. His passing of course, not the fact I didn't reach him.

Prone to bouts of crazy behaviour by all accounts, my memory of him was as a gentle, quiet guy and a great player that influenced folks like Jim Sangster and J. Mascis. If I can find an obit then I'll link it.

RIP - James Gandolfini

I’m truly sick of getting news of people passing away. Their proximity to my age is a factor. Sure. Artie was 8 years older than me. When I was living it up in Spain, I got the news that Prof my old mucker from Tyneside had left the theatre.  No doubt, something else will happen and someone else will be taken in if not exactly their prime, way too fucking early.

So this coming Thursday night, in a certain bar on Tres Cruces in Mad-town. Mahou’s will be lifted in honour of our fallen comrade Arturo Vega who not only designed the greatest, most enduring logo but he made The Ramones possible. He and Monte facilitated their place in the firmament. God knows where those guys would have wound up if it wasn’t for their role.

I can’t claim to have known Arturo well but we met on many occasions where he took care of business as only he could. It’s a sad day for rock’n’roll because there’s one less guy around that made a difference. His spirit will endure though. Through everybody he met. Strangely, my last encounter with him involved my trying to get a print of a shot he took of Joey wearing his NBT shirt, the one in the anthology book. Then just last week when another shot appeared on facebook, I was eager to prove it wasn’t one of Artie’s. He came up in the “conversation” then bam – I get a message from Kevin with the news.

Memo to the Reaper... enough with the collection of good souls lately. Give it a rest for a while or maybe concentrate on the bastards that deserve to be scooped up.

Come see The A-Bones on Thursday and hoist a glass.

RIP - Arturo Vega

My condolences to his family and friends.

My thanks to Brother Jon for the heads up on this happening!

The twang is back. Oh, I know there are a host of approximations but I’m talking about THAT twang. The twang the Del-Lords perfected back there awhile. Around the time of the “Great Roots Rock Scare” that Lou Whitney has been known to comment upon. Y’see this twang has a groove, it has a sense of purpose. It’s not there to try and take the strain on a song that might not exactly be up to scratch. And nor would it require to be because Scott Kempner doesn’t deal in so-so.

“Elvis Club” is the sound of a band making a record to please themselves, because it was time. Whatever wrought them asunder at the time is water under the proverbial. In some ways it’s a logical follow up to “Lovers Who Wander”. It was understated in many ways and it never got the head of steam it deserved at the time. Three-quarters of the original band have reported for duty so that makes it more than just another run around the block.

As “When The Drugs Kick In”, kicks in – all you want to do is find out when they’re playing and trying to figure out how you might get there. It’s a hit in as much as it pretty much sets out the stall. Eric Ambel knows how the band should sound and as he takes the vocal on “Flying”, it’s clear that there’s a sense that they know that they’re doing it for us. And for those who have yet to discover this combo. The trick is going to be in connecting the two. There are some east coast US shows on the immediate horizon but the big news is that they’re headed for Europe in October/November. The UK is included even although we don’t really deserve to be.

If there’s one obvious shift in gear here then perhaps it’s toward a blues notion here and there in relation to pace. This could just be a natural thing in relation to age. The fact that there is a new Del Lords album at all is cause for celebration. The fact that it cuts it is even better. Sometimes Scott sounds a little like Joe Strummer, like on “Letter (Unmailed)”, perhaps that’ll help a few more people get the memo. In my opinion, Kempner has always been head and shoulders above that guy – or any of his bands including The Cl*sh. I met someone else recently who thought “Give ‘em Enough Rope” was their best record and we all know why that is... ha ha.

But I digress, we gather here to give thanks that The Del Lords are alive, kicking and heading in this direction. “Elvis Club” is brought to you by GB music, go enlist.

Two volumes of demos and rare, unreleased gear are also due to be made available in the near future. Details here.

It was a massive honour to return to Madrid last weekend to attend the wedding of my dear friends Francisco and Ruth. Nobody here will be unaware of how much I thrive on visiting that place or my tireless evangelism in trying to get people to go there, to experience the experience for themselves. So I hit the city running and pretty much never let up. A nonstop whirl with great, great people. Basking in the company of “weel ken’t” amigos and others I was just meeting for the first time.

The shindig took place at Templo Del Gato – “A California Music Bar” where the primo couple met. Calling the TDG that is to hide its light under the proverbial bushel. The scope of music is wide and deep but it’s all good. Cracking joint. After a sumptuous meal at Cuidad De Tui, a reconnaissance squad headed over there to check it out and stayed until chucking out time.

The night wasn’t quite over though and after considerable arm twisting (not) I cajoled mi amigo and Hi-Riser, Todd Bradley of Rochester NY to join me at the one and only Wurlitzer Ballroom. We left there pretty late but it marked my return to the city that truly never sleeps except for a wee afternoon siesta here and there.

Up bright(ish) and early for breakfast and out into the air. The weather had taken a turn for how it is at home so there was some shower-dodging. Took the day pretty easy and by the time it was time to head toward the wedding all the cobwebs had been dispatched. Ms Laura introduced me to a cracking wee local haunt for an aperitif or 3. There had been a big football game the night before and some excitable fans added colour to our experience. They were taking photos of the scenes on TV. !?  Bless.

We arrived at the party hq, met up with everybody and proceeded to have a damn fine time until closing. Once again, all roads – for 4 of us at least, led to Wurlitzer and we left that hallowed portal around 6.30am. My plan of getting a slice of pizza on the way back to the hotel was thwarted by a pincer movement of hookers on what Brother J calls Calle De Cho Cho (Right BB?). The only proposition I was really interested in was topped with pepperoni at that juncture. Anyway, it was a fine night with much quaffing and dancing and good natured rowdiness.

And the band wasn’t just any old combo... I always liked the Hi-Risers records but the live experience is so much more. Belonging to the lineage of your NRBQ/Skeletons timeless American music axis, their grasp on finite pop that is more dna than roots. That US twist on anglophilia that boots it back overseas with a damn sight less starch or chin-stroking. This ain’t a formula, it’s a heart and soul with kitchen sink mission. The addition of Jose (El Niño) Bruno from Spain invigorates the sound yet further and this was his first “show”. It was a gas being able to spend time with Greg and Todd, talking about how their first band had their first show opening for New Math and how the Rt Hon. Duane Sherwood was the Technician at their school.

So anyways, Sunday was a little hazy but I had to be compos mentis to meet up with Sir Marco Padin of that fine imprint known as Ghost Highway Recordings. He specialises in high quality gear and has to date put out 63 releases in a very short space of time. Check out his wares here. Another cool wee hostelry was found to hang in and that’s exactly what we did. Was supposed to maybe go see Spectrum at El Sol but ended up having dinner at a place recommended by the lady on reception at the hotel. It looked swanky and it was but it wasn’t expensive.

And then we were back in the Wurli. It was quiet and Inigo and Pedro Temboury, a man that was familiar with my output over the years and a friend showed up. That was pretty crazy but big fun. Pedro is a film-maker and I just watched a short piece called Psycho-Lettes that is not for the faint of heart. I'll post the link here after I have a look at some more of his screen antics.

Which left the last day to meet Ms Marcela, head over to Munster, see Helena, Alvaro and Benito in a non-W environment and then hang with La Hembra Alfa for a bit. She took me to La Buena Vida, a great bookshop with a wee bar that serves Pacharán then off for some old school tapas in the form of Spanish omelette and callos at a "bar de viejo". The texture of the latter wasn’t doing it for me though but I dug the Jay Z’s (wee tumblers of beer). They’re actually called “cana’s” but that’s close to Kanye, right? And voila you got some distant urban connection slang. At least on my telly. And they're very easy to "caw" back.

My Rochester friends and I retired to the place we’d made our local and had two or three for the road. And then it was nearly time to leave the magic city but not before meeting Ulla for our customary morning coffee. Soon it was time to head for the hangar and thusly back into the jaws of reality. Absolutely cream-crackered, I bid Mad-Town adios for the time being but I shall return. And soon but I don’t want to be wearing out my welcome...

And after a stint at the day prison, the following evening found me in Auld Reekie – some considerable distance from my preferred “Kansas”. No “Carry On My Wayward Son” jokes please...

It wasn’t Chrysta Bell’s fault that I was suffering from Mad-lag and I should have given into the voices from the sofa but in the tradition of not wanting to miss anything I soldiered through. If it had been a little more concise, the show may have made more of an impression but as it was all based on that familiar bump and grind of Lynch soundtracks. The starter was a ringer for “Pink Room” and the lord knows there’s nowt intrinsically wrong with that. This operatic blues with a burlesque tick works pretty well. The location was perfect and so was the sound for the most part.

She plays out her part very well and of course, this lady would be a far more sound role model for youngsters that that caterwauling Florence bisom. Being that she sounds like a bunch of owls that are not what they seem. The music undulates like it should but the songs just don’t really rise to the atmosphere.  I was surprised that the show wasn’t totally sold out but really couldn’t hack the guy who opened with his laptop making soundscape type approximations. According to Mr D’uff, the encore was the crowning glory but I’d already left for the train. Thinking this was really more Wild palms that Twin Peaks but maybe her LA configuration is the cause of that.

Mr Lynch considers Ms Bell a songbird and at this point I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. I’d like to hear more substance shine through the inherent style though.

Here’s a clip, see for yourself...

Francisco + Ruth / Greg + Todd shots – from the Ruth López-Diéguez collection

Mahou shot by Laura García-Cuerva

Ready for the road this summer?  Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. is the accessory you need to start the season right!

*THURSDAY, MAY 30th / OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD /
538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in Manhattan / Returning for our monthly dose! /
8:00 sharp 'til 10:00 / No cover /

And, next stop...

*WEDNESDAY, JUNE 12th / RODEO BAR /
375 Third Avenue (at the corner of 27th Street) in Manhattan / A trifecta of sets, from 9:00 sharp 'til midnight / No cover! /

Always yours, Michael
Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co.
"Ballads, Boogies & Blues"

Ross Nelson @ Dig It Up II – Enmore Theatre & surrounds,
Sydney, Sunday 21st April 2013

More kicks! The Hoodoo Gurus and Feel Presents bestowed upon us another day of rock ‘n’ roll thrills for which all who attended will be eternally grateful. Last year’s knees-up was such a hoot that the excitement and anticipation preceding Round 2 was undeniable.

And so to roll call…

The Enmore hosted the main stage and to open proceedings we got Tumbleweed. Australia’s genuine stoner-rock heroes of the 90’s and Waterfront Records stars are back in action. A good choice to open the show, with a solid mix of new tunes and hits, they cleared the eardrums nicely.

I’d wanted to see Peter Case for many years. The former Nerve, Plimsouls leader and long-term folk/roots rock troubadour has a clutch of wonderful songs to his credit so we got a suitably mixed set. Soaring heights were scaled by “How Long Will it Take” and “A Million Miles Away”.

Many of the thrills were away from the main arena… A personal highlight was the Frowning Clouds set in the Sly Fox Hotel. No longer the purist r’n’b/ Stones/ garage hybrid of a couple of years back, they now seem to have embraced a much broader and wilder palette of sounds and influences while maintaining the essence of what made them great in the first place. A wonderful 45 minutes.

At the same venue, Bloods, a three-piece with two girls up front on guitar and bass and a guy holding down the backbeat, have an exuberant presence and deliver a really fun, primal rockin’ set. They have the chops, the songs and the delivery and were a surprise highlight.

Kim Salmon and Leanne Cowie were incredible. Kim is the scuzz-king of rock and delivered a performance for the ages. Damn loud and absolutely wild, they delivered material from across the Scientists catalogue, including ”Frantic Romantic”, “Swampland” and loads more first-rate stuff.

The Laurels created some beautiful sonic landscapes with an over-driven guitar sound, washes of feedback and effects to colour their music. Another winner.

 

Meanwhile, back in the Enmore Theatre, The Lime Spiders delivered a solid set of covers and originals though it was all a tad hard rock and not enough wild fuzzy abandon for me.

Having seen only the mid-80’s version of the Groovies back in ’86 I was super excited to have the opportunity of seeing them again, 27 years later, but this time with the nucleus of the classic 70’s line-up – Chris Wilson joining mainstays Cyril Jordan and George Alexander. They didn’t really get groovy until the opening notes of “You Tore Me Down” more than halfway through their set but that was glorious and between this and the much anticipated and duly delivered closer, “Shake Some Action”, we got moments to treasure.

Amongst a few other acts playing away from the main stage that I regrettably missed, I also somehow didn’t get to see any of Blue Oyster Cult's show. Reports indicated it was a mixed bag of sonic, rockist splendour and some Toto-esque moments.

And so to our hosts, the Gurus. Last year, despite playing all of “Stoneage Romeos”, I thought their set was lacking something in delivery and sound. This time we got “Mars Needs Guitars” followed by a selection of their super hits and they hit all the sweet spots. Brad Shepherd was the guitar hero and his riffs and solos were spiky and note-perfect. And Dave, Mark and Rick delivered with gusto. It was a great performance and the perfect finale. An encore of “Teenage Head” with Cyril and Chris was a nice way to send us home.

Another huge day of big fun. Bring on Dig It Up 3.

Flamin Groovies – Annandale Hotel, Tue 23 April 2013

The Groovies side-show on the Tuesday following Dig It Up was ace!

A bit messy at times, but with more than enough stellar highs to compensate for the minor shortcomings, and an amazing set-list.  Cyril, Chris, George, and Victor Penalosa on drums, delivered the set we were all waiting for. It started with Cyril breaking a string during the opening “She Said Yeah” and having to leave the stage to change it. Chris stepped up and filled the void with a beautiful solo Chimes of Freedom. There was a camaraderie between Cyril and Chris that wasn’t evident at Dig It Up – it was genuinely heart-warming to see them joking and exchanging banter. “You Tore Me Down” was perfect, their “Feel A Whole Better” same again. “Yes I Am”, “I Can’t Hide”, “I Want You Bad”, “Don’t You Lie to Me”, “Between the Lines”, “Let It Rock”, “Slow Death”, “Married Woman”, “Tallahassie Lassie", a sublime “First Plane Home” and ultimately, “Shake Some Action”. It was all too much. All going to plan they’ll be playing shows in the UK and Europe mid-year with new songs to be rolled out. 

Them Flamin Groovies are back in action! Don’t miss ‘em!

Thanks to Ross for the report and the photos

Really peeved I can't make this but maybe you can?

The Yum Yums have ventured far from “Whatever Rhymes With Baby”. Don’t let the title, “The Yum Yums play Good Music” fool you. This is almost a punk pop opera concept. It may also be the most upbeat breakup album of all time.

My first encounter with “Rhymes” as the Quattromobile hit them Madrid city limits is as crystal clear now as it was then. It set me on a certain course that when combined actually seeing them at El Sol was a revelation. Ha ha, the first time I met Vibeke, she thought I was Tim Cross...  but anyway.

Let’s get with the matters in hand. In addition to the lyrical letting loose, the old bubblepunk bombast is intact and that bounces the whole thing away from melancholy with good natured bile if there can be such a thing. The closer of “Bye Bye Baby” however kind of sticks it in and twists. Like a season finale cliff hanger as the long fade out suggests an AM radio classic rock vibe that feels almost mature.

A recent event with regard to the fabric of the band makes me sad but there is a plus, as a young lady in Spain recently pointed out is now that there are two bands. Whilst I understand that positivism, the selfish part of me rankles at the thought of not being able to repeat that life-changing event of October 22^nd 2009 but you know how it is.

CD available on House of Rock/Limited vinyl available from Screaming Apple.

Gimme Söder!

My first gallivant of 2013 took place last week in the fine, fine city of Stockholm. The first time since 2009 thanks to a committee of dear friends that “made me an offer I couldn’t refuse”. It was a rip-roaring reprise that reminded me exactly why I feel I could actually live there. I heard tell of one or two things that seem to be eroding the “system” but it has a long way to fall afore it hits the heady lows of this country. That’s the UK, god knows what’ll happen when the Brigadoon Theme Park opens.

So in terms of social it was a ball. With excellent company straight from the airport arrival gates right the way through to the station platform for the train out.

Hanging out with dear (old as in long time not ancient) friends was largely the order of the day. Eating, a few sherbets, a Mr Ulf record-playing session and some more sherbets was pretty much the short of it. I even did a "tourist thing" with Qina by going to City Hall and had a fine pre-bonfire mutant meatball dinner.

The Nomads show at Södra Teatern with Staffan Hellstrand was pretty amazing. They made an album together called “Pascha Jim’s Dagbook” back in 1996 and this was a live revisitation in a stunning setting. I’d never heard it but this was an ideal introduction. The Stockholm Strings, Fredrick Blank and Idde Schultz completed the line up. It was very Swedish but it really didn’t matter that I couldn’t understand the lyrics. Like Säkert!, the music provides a heart and soul that renders mere words pointless. Very anthemic and almost too big for the room.

I posted a clip the other day so if you scroll down to below this and you can find that and wish you’d been there. Hopefully they'll do it all again in spite of the lukewarm turnout. The people who were there left the theatre buzzing.

The night before I came home, we saw Impo and the Tents with Crusaders of Love in The Cavern in the fine Southside Pub venue. I’d liked the Impo things that Ferdi posted on facebook and while the noise they make is agreeable, the guitar players hat and wife beater (that’s what they call a simmet in rock circles) combo wasn’t happening. They need a stylist.

Them Crusaders however, from Lille in France, flew straight out of the traps. The first 5 songs were as good a debut as I’ve seen in recent memory. Imagine a glammed up Real Kids, these kids looked the part before they even took to the stage. If they swing past anywhere near you then I heartily recommend you dig in. The show was promoted by Thomas Savage’s “Push My Buttons” outfit. A man that’s been doing it for the kids for a while now.

Walking to the subway, we ran into the great Jens Lagergren so that was a very agreeable way to top of the evening. I tottered up and over past Södra Teatern and back to base camp. It had been an intensive few days but cleansing to some degree. And very humbling.

When I’m whining about the day to day bullshit I should perhaps count to 5 and contemplate situations like this. Of course, I’ll still whine but I appreciate it way more than I could ever explain.

And like the troopers they are, my tour management met up for the farewell at Central Station. Possibly to make sure I got on the Arlanda Express and wasn’t still wandering around town, ha ha.

My deep thanks to everyone that pitched in on this project. It means a helluva lot and I hope to repay this amazing gesture down the road apiece.

And to finish a bit of video that the Stockholm Tourist Board should employ and a cracking wee song in the bargain.
 

Of course it pays to advertise -- and Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. takes to the back pages of Otto's Shrunken Head this week with a free offer!  Now if we could just figure out what "hanky panks" are...
 
*THURSDAY, APRIL 25th / OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD /
538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in Manhattan / Returning for our monthly dose! / 8:00 sharp 'til 10:00 / No cover

Plus, in other SIT & Die Co. novelties...

*SUNDAY, APRIL 28th / "BROOKLYNBEEFSTEAK" at BELL HOUSE /
The all-you-can-eat, all-you-can-drink tradition returns to Brooklyn!

*SATURDAY, MAY 11th / "VIVA VAN STORY'S PIN-UP PARTY!" at RODEO BAR /
375 Third Avenue (at the corner of 27th Street) in Manhattan / It's a special pin-up gal contest with our photog pal Viva Van Story! / 10:30 sharp 'til 1:30 / No cover! /

Yours in advertising, Michael

Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. "Ballads, Boogies & Blues"

RIP - Chrissy Amphlett

Anyone experiencing browser turbulence on this thing? I heard today that it there's a wee problem but it looks OK on the computers I've tried.

This could be a sign that it's time to change the template...

Anyway, after you've recovered from RSD trauma, maybe you could let me know...

Everywhere you go, Record Store Day is getting big licks. The plugs on radio are non-stop and I'd imagine that's firing up all the ebayers. They'll be getting in a lather right now about what they'll make on their booty. I'm not going anywhere near a record store tomorrow but will take up the slack when the shakedown ships out. I will miss the home-baking but them's the breaks. If someone was to start a HBD, the scumhordes would find a way to ruin that too.

So by all means support your local store. Cut along and buy something you want and take in the entertainment that's laid on. Non-specific releases are available too, not just the overpriced "collector" guff but anyway... play nice.

Not often that I get the chance to post a plug for a show in Newfoundland... Them Wrigbys be playing there!

Not available in an over-priced format this coming Saturday... Go Boston!

OK, let’s commence the alternative to that lengthy list of overpriced non-collector’s items. I’ll be flagging up recent acquisitions and also stuff that’s gotten lost in the fog these past few months.

This should be preaching to the converted but on the off chance you haven’t heard Palmyra Delran then I envy you. As rock’n’roll girls with a pedigree go, there are few that are her equal. Her new album “You Are What You Absorb” is chocka with all those frequencies that we here hold dear. Just total pop music of the calibre you’d be justified in thinking they didn’t make any more.

Listen to samples that ought to vindicate my suggestion, if you aren’t moved then go back to your RSD checklist, you deserve to be taken. Sadly it’s unlikely that any actual record store other than a handful on the Eastern seaboard of the USA will have it in stock but this some action that would actually be worth queuing for. In May, denizens of Sweden will be able to score copies when the lady lands in their esteemed country to rip it up as she’s prone to do now and again. One day we’ll get her to the Wurlitzer in Madrid and other joints in Spain that still understand the importance of a top notch tune.

There are twelve of those here waiting for you here so with no further ado cut across to CD Baby and make with the paypal.

Dragging myself out to see “Stoker” turned out to be the wrong decision. It’s not outright awful but its affectations bordering on TV movie leave it floundering. Mostly style, little substance and well, in case you thought there were vampires involved, there are not. Unless you count having your soul sucked out on account of the fairly obvious outcome.

But anyway, it’s a weekend of movies and I’ll be back in the dark this afternoon for something called “Side by Side”. A documentary about the effect that digital cameras have had on film-making. It features several charlatans but also David Lynch.

And in this countdown to the shakedown known as Record Store Day, I’ll try to do something each day on items you might consider buying over the hiked price artefacts. Stores have plenty decent inventory on any given day and its somewhat obscene that they have to dig in to almost non-existent coffers to populate their premises with mostly bogus “collectors” items. Everybody knows that the really great thing about RSD was the home baking anyway. Right?

So yeah, let’s see how this latest intention pans out. This “back to winter” weather leaves room for little else.