Jon Strider' s "Fresh Tracks" (New Sky) is a peculiar beast. I wouldn’t even have listened to it if I hadn’t noticed that it was Swedish. The cover looks like it’s a Chris De Burgh record and not a giant leap from sounding like Don Henley but really not bad at all. Well arranged and played bar-room AOR of an old-fashioned quality that individuals of a certain vintage certainly wouldn’t hate. The lesson here is not to judge a CD by its cover.

Symply Bill's "Sound Experiment" (s/r) - A Kingsport, TN based singer/songwriter. Neither folk nor country, maybe a little of both. That moniker isn’t doing him any favours and there’s a typo on the sleeve that should read myspace.com/symplybill. Similarly not moving me is Lonnie Kjer/Stefan Mork's "13 songs". Angsty Danish folk with a tiny hint of Lynchian twang but little else to recommend it. Tony Denikos is a seasoned Americana-rer based in Maryland. He has a lot of heavy hitters helping him round out his sound on this here “Already Gone” album. These include Warner E. Hodges providing a CCR type shape to the alternate take of “Lauralite”.

There’s a quote by Andrew Loog Oldham to Uncut magazine inside the info booklet of the Born 53 CD that seems to be being associated with the contents. This skews any worthy aspect that this mature country blues ramble might have. “Foreign Accent” is firmly lodged in Knopfler territory but they seem to have a sense of humour and I get the feeling they’re pleasing themselves. Sometimes it seems like there isn’t a generation gap anymore but something like this hammers it home that there certainly is. The skiffle-y version of “Don’t Do It” really made me want to hear The Fleshtones “J-Geils” twist to that very tune.

The Neighbourhood Bullys “What” (Rank Outsider Records) is co-produced by Mike Chapman. They’ve got a kind of power pop Dictators/Cheap Trick thing going on with a side dynamic that recalls The Knack and also Redd Kross. They’re pushing all the right buttons but I’m not entirely sold on the songs, “Sux 2 B U” is every bit as awful as the title suggests. Having said that, give me the NB’s over guff like The Hold Steady any day of the week.

Revolve are a Gothenburg power trio and “Burning Money” suggests what might have happened if Cheap Trick was the template for The Hellacopters instead of the MC5. I’m not a great fan of three piece bands but this one kicks up quite the racket. They’re not exactly breaking new ground but they’re giving it a good bloody pummelling.

Slowman is back. Back where he started according to this new album. That’s somewhere between Stevie Ray Vaughn and Robert Cray. “Southside” bears a bit of a resemblance to “Owner of a Lonely Heart”. I shouldn’t even let on that I recognise that. Imagine what that could do to a guy’s credibility, assuming he had any? More than proficient, at its best, Slowman reminds me of Henning Staerk. Superior veteran pub rock stylings as only the Scandanavians can pull it off. “Don’t Wanna Know” in particular entertains a lyric that chimes with my particular worldview.

Patrick Crowson will appeal to fans of Chris Whitley, Paul Burch and Townes.

The Scenics “Sunshine World” (Dream Tower Records) comprises studio recordings from 1977/78 and it’s plain that the NY underground had a mainline to Toronto. This isn’t punk rock per se, more a Talking Heads/Velvets hybrid with a side of “Adventure” period Television. It stands up pretty good and predates what would have been the Danceteria years in Manhattan where Art Rock and Punk atoms were split never to come together again in quite the same continuum. Arguably the PR that eventually broke in the USA was a co-opted Edgy College Rock. Sure it was diverse but by that time there were corporations involved. Still in Scenics-ville, “How Does It Feel To Be Loved” is their Velvets side given full reign to provide an almost theatre score to an off-off OFF Broadway recon of Lou and Co at Max’s. Recorded between ’77 and ’80 in a stark, live, low tech manner it stands up bloody well and if you close your eyes and squint you’ll hear Lou channel his inner Tiny Tim.

Remember, this was captured in a time before everyone finally woke up and grabbed a copy of the VU debut. The version of “Beginning To See The Light” swings in a Byrds-y fashion while the rendition of “Real Good Time” was recorded when they opened for The Troggs in June 1978. This veers between faithful and straight out liberty taking but somehow it’s a snapshot of a far less cynical time when the notion that “anyone can do it” quite patently did.

Joel Alme’s “Waiting For The Bells” (Razzia) should really be available on a box set of 7” singles. With big hole dinked centres and labels that look like old Spector acetates. The unabashed Righteous Brothers via Pete Wylie pop soul harks back to a time when AM radio would have been all over this like a rash. This sound is so out of kilter with now that it’s practically radical. Shades of “Herd” type brass punctuate the already gospel like nature of these torch tunes. The arrangements are pretty spectacular and I know these things can be created synthetically now this really sounds like they went the whole nine yards. Who cares if “No Class” sounds a wee bit like “Badlands”?

Eleven orchestral manoeuvres with the power to deck you, that may never be heard outside of Sweden. That’s just not right.

And sticking with Scandinavia for the wind-out, Jasmine Kara’s “Blues Ain’t Nothin’ But A Good Woman Gone Bad” ignites some forgotten Chess chestnuts for a contemporary audience. This 21 year old is the polar opposite of the karaoke singers that are constantly paraded before us. This set bridges the chasm between what has become pigeonholed as “urban” and the biblical meaning of “rhythm and blues”. They used to call it soul until that term was co-opted too.

Actually, it doesn’t matter a toss what they CALL it because when you hear it, it’ll knock you on your arse. .In this post-Winehouse environment I think there’s a place for an artist that can belt it out and I’ll be damned if Jasmine Kara doesn’t have a shot at it. One appearance on Jools Holland and the blue touch paper would be lit. The ska-flavoured “Try My Love Again” is a shoe in hit “single” if there still is such a thing. Here’s a project where great songs have been put together with a cracking singer and an ace band. No finagling or delusions in sight.

“Grits aint Groceries” is my hitpick but this is a class act all the way. Jasmine may be no relation to Irene Cara but surely headed for some kind of fame and I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t LOVE to hear her tackle Annika’s “Leaving You Behind”.

It’s “British Summer Time” kids! Rejoice and look out that swimming cossie. If I go out today, I expect to see water beds on legs soaking up the rays. And there are rays at the moment strangely although snow is forecast at “low levels” next week. I guess this is just ahead of the UK closing for business over the Easter break and beyond. The greed of mainstream politics has broken the populace. If one of the karaoke singers from one of these TV shows was to stand as prime minister then they’d probably win. After all, they get much more attention.

The playground antics of our choices to run the country are frankly a bit worrying. Katie Price must be in with a shout. Ever since David Sutch passed on there hasn’t been a viable alternative because I reckon that neither Rory Bremner nor Armando Iannucci would feel comfortable with just how far-fetched supposed reality has become.

There was just a news item on about some “curriculum for excellence” being introduced to the education system here in Scotchland. If anything is guaranteed to raise my hackles it’s the use of the word “excellence”. It’s my belief that such a beastie should be the norm. As soon as the idiots start using the label then you can be sure that “below average” would be more like the outcome. In these times of jumping through hoops and (grimace) “ticking boxes”, actual excellence (in Bill and Ted terms) is a fallacy. Meanwhile “be excellent to one another” and don’t be surprised by just how far down the food chain that Britain will end up over the next few months.

Overseas readers, come visit, fill your boots before the lights go out altogether and there’s no way of getting about this shithole of a country.

On a lighter note, some things you may care to partake of...

The new Dig It! Has the JJR on the cover. You know what I think of them and the mag, as always has the scoop on all the latest r&r action from all over.

The latest release from Red Star Digital is Go!

Robert Barry Francos continues to raid the Ffanzeen vaults with this Gun Club piece from 1983.

Some fresh air is in order, I’ve already done my ironing and having posted this, am heading out of doors. I may be some time and might just keep walking...

RIP - Dr John Ciambotti

(info via Rob Patterson)

A missive from Mr Shernoff (via myspace)

"I'm playing Maxwell's this Saturday, March 27th....1039 Washington Street - Hoboken, NJ 07030-5201... it's an early show - 7:30pm. Songs and stories from the days when sex was safe and drugs were cool!!!!"

Click image to enlarge

This has turned out to be a resume of the week. Folks have been dropping by to read Ben’s piece on Alex so I deliberately held back the flood gates so that they wouldn’t have to wade through acres of me doing my LD bit to get to it. Having stuff like that to put on here is both a thrill and a privilege. You can read it over at the BV site and while you’re at it maybe grab copies of his latest recordings. Everyone a Rambler 65 (as opposed to maserati). Writing of that calibre also makes me forget (briefly) that I was put here for better things than some of the shit I’ve had to contend with over the past few days. I have that Friday afternoon mellow feeling but am aware that this weekend is an hour shorter. That could easily get my hackles up if I dwell on it but at this point, said situation is some way in the distance. Even factoring in the speed at which one’s free time scoots in like the proverbial rocket. So at this juncture, we’re all alright.

Is the browser problem still happening to you? I thought I’d fixed that. Perhaps I need to upgrade to one of these generic templates but don’t really want to.

Tuesday pretty muck sucked part from that. Mainly down to a shenanigan with my trying to renew my road tax. First online, then on the telephone. My insurance details aren’t on their database so they couldn’t process my application. To find this out, I had to go through the automated sequence from hell eventually talking to someone. Only to be faced with “computer says no” indifference. Once I get all of this sorted out, I’m going to tear the DVLA Customer Relations dept. a new one. Via the good old postal system with an envelope and a stamp, the whole nine yards. I imagine that I should just file that under “these things are sent to try us” but it utterly hacked me off and someone must pay.

“It’s just computers” (I swear, that's what she said) and “You’ll just have to go to a post office” were the indifferent statements that made my blood boil when I called the agent with regard to why said info wasn’t coming up on the database. I thanked the person "for being of no help whatsoever” and hung up, stopping just one smidge short of spontaneous combustion. The bisom's tone was what really capped it off. I know computers are a pain in the rectum but I don’t expect the representative of a place I’m paying to provide a service to just fob me off.

The expression curmudgeon applies to me. Guilty as charged. Not being one of life’s bubbly go getters, I hope that I don’t portray a number of faces to suit any particular situation. Having said that, if someone asks me for help, or advice or whatever then I’ll do my damndest to do what I can. An ethic that seems to be in short supply this last wee while. If someone pisses up my back and tells me that it’s raining then woe and at least thrice woe betide them and the tussle with the broker’s representative was one of those. Like a follow on from the DVLA run in from last night.

These droids are not programmed to operate out with a radius of being a dimbulb. Is it too much to expect to get some service? A couple of answers?? I don’t think so and all of this fucked me right off. The start of the week had been pretty reasonable. It never occurred to me that I might be overdrawn at the karma bank.

There was the hooking up of some Wild Horses fans with some 30+ year old signed photos. The catch was that they donate something to a charity of their choosing. Conscience will be their guide. This is perhaps some more of this rock’n’roll ministry practice showing itself or maybe I’ve lost the plot altogether. I had also reconnected with folks that I should have never become disconnected with in the first place. A peculiar twist of fate with an outcome I never expected.

In closing, I will indeed always “go to the post office” in future because there you can get stuff done. The DVLA can jolly well stick their “online” service where the sun divnae shine. Laminated and torn sideways for extra sensitivity.

Anyway, it’s very gratifying to see the press on the new Mose Allison record and also that Amy is being recognised as having made a very cool contribution both on the duet “A New Situation” and her dad doing “Everybody Thinks You’re An Angel”. The people who are writing about “The Way of The World” seem to be blessed with a sense that eludes your average “Americana” or whatever scribe that trots out the generic ignoramus reaction to her instrument. The “Before Mose there was nothing” lobby must be thrilled that this new album is finally out.

Let’s see what else, I’m chuffed to have made Amy Rigby’s diary. I think she’s kidding about the “cheerier film” bit. Also in recent times, I swelled the ranks of The Beat Army so I’m not doing too badly. They’re reporting here today that the price of alcohol is being raised to save lives. Is the government really that stupid? There are sections of society that don’t fucking eat because they’d rather neck booze for whatever reason. So now they’ll eat less. The money will be diverted to the health service or something. Aye. Right. Are you familiar with the expression “shower of bastards”? I dare say you are. I know that the Rev. Thewlis is spitting feathers .

Got a loan of some Bonanza DVDs from a colleague recently and was immediately blindsided by the fact that they don’t start with common theme tune. Is nothing sacred? Guess not.

Thank the lord then for Bucks Burnett’s Eight Track Museum... (thanks to Martin for the link)

RIP - (The other) Jim Marshall

Another link!

Please note - This is the photographer not "The Hound" - Links courtesy of JD King and Steve Hesske)

RIP - Johnny Maestro

(Thanks to Mr D'uff for the info, short obit here...)

RIP - Robert Culp

THE GO-GO will be officially a decade old on Saturday 3rd April.

10th Birthday Bash - 10.30 - 3am, downstairs @ Studio 24, Edinburgh. £7/£5

with two live sets from THEM BEATLES

60s Pop Beat Garage Soul Mod & Psychedelia played by the ever-fresh DJ's Tall Paul Robinson & Big Gus.

Always progressive, Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. is back at Otto’s Shrunken Head this week – and with a long-overdue return by our special guest singer, Rosalie Morris!

THURSDAY, MARCH 25th / And the last Thursday of every month! /OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD / 538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in ol' Manhattan /Two modernistic shows, from 8:00 sharp until 10:00 / With special guest Rosalie Morris, plus the usual DJ "Son of Scratchy", salty snacks, and no cover!

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

also on Twitter and Facebook

P.S. For those of you with a bent for beef, we had our fill on Sunday at the Brooklyn Beefsteak. B-E-E-F!

RIP - Marva Wright

I do believe this is a scoop. From the one, the only Ben Vaughn...

REMEMBERING ALEX

I met Alex Chilton in the early Eighties in New York City. We were introduced by our mutual friend Mike. I was just starting my music career and Alex was the guy who produced the Cramps and I needed a producer so I handed him a demo of my songs. He took it, examined it from all angles as if he’d never seen a cassette tape before, looked me in the eye and asked, “Is this original material?” I nodded yes and in a very blasé voice he said, “great” and put it in his pocket. My friend Mike and I shrugged at each other. We assumed the tape would be tossed.

A few years later I had a record deal and was booked by the same agent who handled Alex and he put us together on a tour of the Midwest. At the first sound check in Kansas City, Alex strolled in, introduced himself and told me how much he liked the cassette as if he had just received it and said it was “a gas” to be working with me. I loved the words he was saying but again, the blasé tone threw me off. I was beginning to see why “misunderstood” always preceded “genius” when Alex’s name came up. It was hard to figure the guy out.

We went on to do a few more tours and spent a lot of time together. He wasn’t an easy guy to get to know. He could be silent for long periods and you had to get used to that dead air. But then he could suddenly go off on a two-hour dissertation about the South during Reconstruction complete with exact names, dates, and places. Or recite every one of Lawrence Olivier’s lines in “The Entertainer” from memory. And then, out of nowhere, more dead air. He was “an interesting bunch of guys” as my dad would say.

But we had fun. I enjoyed egging him on about how much I loved Gary Puckett and The Union Gap which always touched a nerve, possibly reactivating a professional rivalry from the Sixties. “Listen to yourself!” he would moan, “Listen to yourself!” One time he pulled the car over and demanded I eject a cassette of Mel Torme’s “California Suite” and throw it as far as I could into the bushes off the Missouri interstate. I had to get out of the vehicle to really give it my best shot and he almost drove away without me. For some reason, the only thing we were able to agree on was that Freddie Cannon still “had it” as a performer.

When not touring, Alex and I stayed in touch, visited each other in our respective cities, and at one point even tried writing songs together though we never really finished anything. In the mid-nineties, I was producing a dark “midnight sessions” blues album by Alan Vega and told Alex about it. He loved Alan’s voice and offered to pay his own way from New Orleans to be involved. We recorded over three nights and called the album Cubist Blues. It was released in the States and in France. We played two shows to promote it, one in NYC and one at a festival in France.

Soon after that I moved to L.A. to score for films and TV. In 1998, I was hired to provide music for That ‘70s Show and the creators wanted the opening of the show to feature the cast singing along in a car to their favorite hit song. After throwing around Seventies song titles like “We Won’t Get Fooled Again” and “Eighteen,” I asked if maybe we could use a song that wasn’t actually a hit in the Seventies--but should have been. “Sure,” they said, “As long as it’s great.” One of the writers was a Big Star fan so I asked him to run down to his office and grab his CD of the first album. I played “In The Street” for the producers and they went nuts. It was a classic Hollywood moment. They jumped up and down and yelled, “That’s our song!”

After a discussion about re-recording it at a faster tempo to sound more like The Who or Bad Company, the business affairs people went about securing a deal with the song’s publishers. I called Alex and told him the news. He was thrilled. He always thought the song should have been a hit. “Better late than never,” he said. And it was good for the show too. They had a quality theme song that was actually written in the Seventies. It was good news for everybody.

Turning it into a TV theme was not easy. Even with the quicker tempo, we had a hell of time fitting the first verse and chorus into the allotted thirty seconds given to us by the network. It was amusing to learn later of the conspiracy theory in the rock world that Fox had censored the line about the joint. Definitely not true! We could hardly fit in the first verse much less the second verse containing the drug reference. But Alex inspired that kind of loyalty among fans and critics. They wanted to take care of him and defend him against the evils of the entertainment business. That’s how it is with misunderstood geniuses.

But the truth is Alex was happy to see “In The Street” finally get the exposure he felt it deserved. Every time we spoke on the phone through the years he would lead off with “How’s our show doing?” I’ve heard reports that that his royalties from the show paid all of his bills from that point on. I don’t know if that’s true but I do know he was paid quite well over the last twelve years. And he seemed more content than ever in the end. When I last visited Alex in New Orleans he was in love with his gal Laura and seemed relaxed and excited about life.

It’s going to take a while for me to realize that he’s gone. Sure, I’ll miss his music like everyone else but mostly I’ll miss his blasé tone and unpredictable nature.

“An interesting bunch of guys” indeed.

Sincere thanks to Ben for letting us have this...

Jeez-o. JD is pitching 'em quicker than I can field the blighters. Does that make sense? I have not a scoob about sports terminology but it does to me. Three more chapters of Metaphors, go get them...

16, 17, 18

and Mose Allison in The New Yorker (thanks Amy)

Everybody knows that the finite format for enjoying popular music is the 7” single. Even something like Radiohead might sound better like that, not that I’m about to listen to that guff on the off chance. And that brings me to a few excellent examples of the breed that I’ve encountered lately.

Caroline Andersen’s “Birthday Suit” on L’Edonista is pressed on hot pink vinyl. As perfect a burst of cheeky (no pun intended, particularly if you’ve seen the sleeve) motorised pop as you’re ever likely to encounter. Brought to you via the good offices of Captain Morten Henriksen, effervescence guaranteed. I think there’s an album in the works so as soon as that is on its way then you’ll be getting the skinny. See what I did there? You’d never think for a moment that I’m sitting here kvetching over how much my car MOT is gonna shake me down for. Caroline has a way of making you forget about stuff like that.

I mentioned Juanito Wau’s One Mouth Band before and his debut 45 is out now on the charmingly monikered I Shit In The Milk imprint – pressed on white vinyl with brown print, very fetching. No matter how broad-minded your mother is she won’t like this. Beatboxers beware as this human (?) hot rod delivers his satanic oral revs in a way that will outright worry Bobby McFerrin fans. I feel a strange affinity with this guy because I used to perform similar noise-making experiments. My excuse is not being able to hold a tune. But Juan can – you betcha. Brilliant and uncompromising, the wildest thing I’ve heard in a very long time. (Cheers Inigo)

I had the pleasure of meeting Mr Paul Collins in Madrid last October and have been digging reinvestigating his excellent back catalogue. This split single with The Beat and Radio Days on Italian label Surfinki is a great example of just how he’s still cutting a dash here in 2010. The PCB side is toting a kind of Skeletons do Billy Joel shindig and RD are operating in a universe not entirely removed from that of Teenage Fanclub. (Thanks Juanco)

The Eruption Organisation has unleashed their first foray into 7” vinyl with a split 45 that features a side apiece by The Bonnevilles and Thee Phantom Herd. The former are Free or Frankie Miller having done some kind of RJ deal with the devil. I was expecting something entirely different but this could have wide appeal and is several light years better than anything I’ve heard by The Raconteurs to drop a name. Other than the fact that I believe said combo knocked out a version of (I think) “Headin’ For The Texas Border”. Thee PH are not without their charm also and I’d venture that this could be how the JJR could sound if they took their hooves off the decibel level. This is swingin’ lowdown dirty bluesmanship. “Lordy” richt enough and will raise you a “have mercy”.

I would hope that you’d all have the A-Bones “Not Now!” by now but maybe you don’t have the 45 of “Shallow Grave”. Written by Andy Shernoff and performed with the gusto you’d expect from the Nortonian royalty. When I spin this it makes me miss them SO MUCH I can hardly stand it. And in addition you get a non-LP cut. What’s not to grab.

Twinning Madrid with NYC is not a new concept. There’s been a tunnel between the two for a long time and The Thunderbolts is a cocktail of two Dictators (JP and Ross) and three died in the wool (The Pardos and Juanco) Spanish rock guns for hire. Japanese label Target Earth has released a JP song “On The Tip” with a cover of the hymn “Stay With Me” sung by Miguel as a shiny black thing that ought to put a bustle in your hedgerow.

Still no word on the car, no news is er, no news

Go Little Hammer!

All the info you need to score a copy of this little beauty can be found here. So don't dilly dally or they'll all be gone.

Stereo Total is something I never tire of. Acts come and go but these folks just plough a unique furrow that just confounds and delights time after time. They embody a rock’n’roll aesthetic that those who concoct a sound out of a modular record collection concept will never ever achieve. A bottomless pit of heart and soul.

Some folks don’t get it, but that usually means that they never saw 'em live. Not that the show is anything like the records but that’s another aspect that sets them apart. For complete satisfaction, I think you need to experience both. Seeing them unlocks a portal and I expect they’ll be on the road to promote their new Disko B release “Baby Ouh” so take opportunity when it presents itself and thank me for the tip later.

“An attempt to record exactly the music that Stereo Total would like to hear on the radio themselves”. And the world would certainly be a much better place if “I Wanna Be A Mama” was on heavy rotation. Much of the lyrics are in French, German and even Spanish. This means that philistines like myself can’t experience what are obviously great lyrics but the joy of the Total is that it’s not necessary. Had I been taught languages at school with this as a carrot then I would be a cunning linguist for sure. Stereo Total’s radioactive electronic discoglam is a refreshing cram of disparate elements. Everything but the kitchen sink but there might be one of those in here too. How else could they have got that sound.

I like to take time out from this fucked world to visit this much preferable orbit. This is no acquired taste and I pity the fools that try to write this combo off. As infectious, top of the line pop music goes there are few greater exponents. Some drongo said to me that they just keep making the same album over and over. And the problem with that is what exactly? Of course, the accusation itself is entirely unfounded.

Yes, there are just two of them. No, they sound NOTHING like The White Stripes. End of sermon.