AVAILABLE MARCH 3rd

ON THE AMIGO IMPRINT!

Kicksville's "Letters from Lesterville"

Of all the overtures I make about exploring new avenues of music of all types, I have to admit that I’m always happiest with loud fast rock’n’roll. The first round of this album took me back to Glasgow last autumn when Cj Ramone, Daniel Rey and Brant Bjork joyously laid the best Ramones set on us that the brudders never played. JP has captured that brand of energy and added a few of his own ingredients. A couple ounces of glam, a smidge of power pop and some hard rockin’ chops all simmered together in order to deliver a considerable sucker punch. Americans still use imperial measures so run with me on this alright?

Swinging in with the title track, I got to thinking that this should be available as a set of 45’s. Or for extra loudness in the cut a caseful of 12” singles. “On and On” reminds us that although Slade perhaps didn’t break America, they certainly marked their territory.

Abetted by Dean Rispler and CJ Sciosca, I can unequivocally recommend this to you NBT types because deep down I know you can’t get enough of this stuff either. JP prompted me to say that it’s the best thing I ever heard and that it could be a huge hit in the UK. I can tell you that it’s right up there and I don’t think I’ve heard a celebration of good ol’ new York rock like this in quite some time. I would feel a lot better about my country of origin if this could indeed be a hit here but there’s simply no such thing anymore. I like to think that I still know one when I hear it though and “Hand Grenade Heart” is reverberating around my noggin bigstyle. There’s more to JP than him just being the drummer with one of the greatest combos that ever was. Often a maligned species, this one has several strings to his bow, in addition to being a diamond geezer.

No lightning, no Galileo, no sodding Figaro just some very, very frighteningly good rock’n’roll. Magnifico!

There’s a great interview with the man by The Barman here that goes into some detail about what you can expect.

No Fun releases are available via Get Hip and ostensibly from the remaining good record stores that are peppered a cross the planet. However, if in doubt – go to the source.

“ROBERT BURNS”. When I see or hear the name, I recall the great Chris Gaffney enunciating it in his approximation of a Scottish brogue. In a coincidence, I heard Dave Alvin’s amazing version of Artesia from the tribute album this morning and that brought Chris to mind again. Yesterday morning, a presenter on BBC Radio Scotland’s “Greetings Programme” offered the info that Dave and the Guilty Men were his favourite act of all time. Not the kind of thing I’m used to hearing just prior to 8am on a Sabbath but quite an inspiring statement.

So that brings me to the Burns day hoopla. Scotland’s national bard and all that. In actual fact, my opinion of his work is somewhat akin to my non-appreciation of The Beatles. It was spotty at best. This isn’t helped by interpretations by people like Eddie Reeder. Recitations will be made all over the daftest wee country in the world and beyond today. Much haggis, neeps and the odd tattie will be consumed, all washed down with the singin’ ginger and then tomorrow it’ll be 364 days until the next such stramash.

In my opinion, both Chris and Dave are greater poets than the Rabster will ever be. You’re entitled to disagree but that won’t alter my worldview.

Via Ulf Ramone's facebook... for a minute I thought Joe had his NBT shirt on...

One thing you’ll notice with “Oil City Confidential” is the way that the music is cut into it. It’s twice as loud as the rest of the audio and I’m pretty sure that’s intentional, to punctuate the pounding that the band created. The final part of Julien Temple’s “music trilogy” goes back before the creation of his other two subjects. Both of which make brief appearances in the film to complete the weave.

Anyway, this is the best of the three and perhaps it’s the best music documentary since the finest example you’ll never see “A True Testimonial”. The reason is that the Feelgoods were a proper rock’n’roll band, completely wired and for real, maybe even dangerous.
As characters too, these weren’t just personas. They were the product of the Thames delta and a new word “canveycentric” was coined especially for this documentary.You’ll even see Bob Harris having a fly puff during “Keep It Out Of Sight”. Wilko does a great job of relating the story but the all out star for me is Lee’s mum. She refers to Wilko gently as “a troubled kind of person”. What a lovely woman.

So with the advent of the film opening in February, you need to grab tickets for the GFT screening on February 2nd. There are also screenings that day across the rest of the country. These will be all the more poignant following the recent passing of Mick Green of (Johnny Kidd and) The Pirates.

Hearing the sound fly out of a proper theatre sound system should be big fun but this isn’t just a story about a band. It’s about how something can grow in isolation and eventually sweep the world. Brilleaux’s widow recounts a line that her husband quipped, “I’m not fucking Shakespeare, I don’t write ‘em, I just sing ‘em”.

Don’t you wish the so-called acts of today would take a leaf out of that book. “Oil City Confidential” is an excellent film about a catalytic combo that kicked off a revolution in my lifetime when it really mattered.

By the time The Pistols and The Clash came along, it was about something else. There was love in their hopped up, cut and shut R&B and you’ll feel that when you watch this.

I told you folks a week ago ago how great this was, now you can hear/see it... The Legendary Tigerman and Rita Redshoes red hot take on "Lonesome Town"...

Another one from Tex...

RIP - Jean Simmons

Thanks to T Tex Edwards for the tip-off...

M E T A P H O R S - Chapter 9

Celebrating 365 days of "Grand"!...

Friday night and no place to go, that works for me. And If I did, I'd probably have found a way out of actually turning up by now. Not sure if it's a strain of agoraphobia or just the onset of another level on the antisocial ladder. Actually, I'm not entirely antisocial, it's just that me 'ate having to put up with putz and putzesses en route to hanging with folks that I dig to be around.

At this point, the usual proverbial high hopes of achievement for the unfolding weekend are marinating nicely. The end result will likely be altogether different but it's sometimes OK to harbour delusions, right?

Short and sweet tonight, nip over to Tim's place and take a look at "The A&R Guy".

Pretty funny.

Also on a non-music related note... Being There 2010

and Andy Kershaw on his experience of Haiti and the people there.

Life was much simpler when there was no e-mail and when the post office worked. Blue yonder has “upgraded” its service and as a result the “improvements” will take a bit of getting used to. When you add outlook to the fray then things get even more complicated. To the extent that all of a sudden everything reverts to 20th January and you can’t revert to the order that the mail was in prior to the FlashForward.

As a result, some stuff seems to have vanished so I need to make a concerted effort to sort the mess out. This is kind of the reason that I’m so apprehensive about doing anything with the blog template.

Following yesterday’s news about the Boner/JayZzzz hookup, the dreaded Simon Cowsarse is also threatening a “Haiti” single. What’s wrong with the sterling idea of if you bloody lot keep your traps shut then we’ll pay up? This is the inherent ugliness of publicity in full flow. They can’t stop themselves. “Stars” are lining up to associate themselves with causes, generally assuming that there’ll be a claw back on account of them lending “support”. Maybe I’m just being realistic, er, sorry – I mean cynical.

This is an insidious angle to an altogether more malignant form of greed. The parasitic nature of fame at all costs. Yes. People should give until it hurts but anonymously. Not to bask in the glow of having given. This manifests itself in every facet of the “charity” business these days. That’s what it is – a business. Quite sickening when considered alongside that a lot of individuals are up-ended on a regular basis to soothe the intended guilt trips.

The Cowell horrorshow is at the request of Gogs Broon, the man with his finger on the pulse. For god’s sake man, get a grip. Meanwhile, “back in the States”, some drongo with a truck out Massivechewsets way has upset the Presidential applecart.

“Oh New England”… as one JoJo Richman once remarked.

Bollocks to all that though, I have the Glasgow Film Festival programme to digest. I could think of worse places to be than the cinema if the apocalypse kicks in (old school) between February 18th and 28th.

“It’s a no bray-nah”… that’s another of these statements that has crept into everyday use.

Like “ It’s not rocket science”. These are generally trotted out by individuals not troubled with ownership of the grey matter nor the certification the latter one-liner suggests. Tt’s to just plane arseholeism to be fair, I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with the script and have to deal with it on a regular frequency.

I also dislike pontification. Especially when it’s spouted by individual who have no redeeming qualities with regard to why they should be tolerated. This sub species hampers my existence all too often and the last couple of days have provided a concentrated blast of this, let’s call it bullshit for description purposes. And whilst we’re on that subject...

... can’t Boner and Jay Zzzzzz just give some of their wealth to Haiti and cut the world some slack from another bloated charity shouting match? And those banking bonuses? Straight into the rebuild pot surely.

Me, I’m staring down the barrel of the ironing to the soundtrack of this little pile of cds to my left. Dr H and I coined a new term today that we hope to see adopted by dictionaries and other such tomes in the future. It's "cyrony", the interwb strain of irony.

And you?

Super Rock snow boots at the ready, the confirmed schedule for the Fleshtones "Blast of Cold Air" tour in February shakes down as follows:

04.02 Raahuset, Copenhagen, Denmark
05.02 Blå Rock, Tromsø, Norway
06.02 Morten's House, Moss, Norway
08.02 Bergen, Norway (tbc)
10.02 John Dee, Oslo, Norway
12.02 Kägelbanan, Stockholm, Sweden
13.02 Kägelbanan, Stockholm, Sweden

Last time round at Morten's pad (or was it the time before) the boys decided to get naked although rumours are unconfirmed as to whether they led everyone out into the snow for a good roll around. The accompanying snap was taken before everything got out of hand. Hey, does anyone know where I can find one of those ingenious Norgwegian bottle holders?

The two shows in Stockholm are to be accompanied by a screening of the sixty minute documentary about the band "Pardon Us For Living But The Graveyard Is Full". The show on the 12th also features those Swedish Garage Rock Gods, the Nomads. There is also a rumour on Facebook that the 'Tones will be playing the whole of "Roman Gods".

It's always nice to start the day in an encounter with some freezing fog. It really sets you up. Especially when you're out of sorts anyway. Throw in a little black ice (not an AC/DC album ref) and well, the practice of hibernation is a very attractive proposition. I think I’m succumbing to the phobia that precludes a person from leaving the house. There are a litany of reasons that I use to convince myself not to cross the doorstep.

It’s probably an age thing.

There’s Haiti and signs that the UK economy is even more fucked than originally thought but the big news is that SuBo, despite being the biggest seller of the past year (er, few weeks) – has been snubbed by The Brits. As far as I can tell that’s not rhyming slang but go ahead and fill your boots if you can get a chuckle or three.

This sceptic isle is gripped by terminal idiocy and not the positive kind. I’m not in too great a mood tonight. Maybe you noticed that.

In the grand tradition of indecision, I can’t make up my mind whether or not to transfer this blogger template to the updated version or not. I’m a little (or actually, a lot) apprehensive about it not retaining certain aspects of order. I mean, nothing is actually broken and there’s no real need to change it. This version does what it does. If I had any semblance of patience or indeed faith then I’d maybe just take the leap but being low on both of these commodities means - a lot of humming and hawing takes place. Eventually settling for the agreeable “leave it as is”, is there really anything wrong with the way it is?

Time to let some music play.

RIP - Kate McGarrigle