The best way I can describe my mode (not mood) today is “struggling”. Based on today’s experience it’s going to be a long week and I’m considering posting a “closed” notice over next weekend. Maybe I’ll be over the hump by then but we’ll have to wait and see. It’s about as much fun as a visit to the dentist and that’s where I’m bound tomorrow. To the hygienist actually which, in the grand scheme of things, ain’t so bad if sparkling gnashers are the only outcome.

I thnk I might be suffering from sensory overload too. Hearing too much music, watching too many films. The information junkie aspect can be overwhelming and it creates a skewed perspective. I’m lucky to be able to check out all the stuff that I do but maintaining that objectively subjective demeanor can be a strain. It’s hard to keep up, even when you care so what must it be like for the ADD crowd?

There has been some good news... Minus Zero lives, info at BoB.

Just came off listening to a two hour celebration of The Geator with The Heater that Ben Vaughn put together to celebrate 50 years of the man on Philly radio. The show will be broadcast on July 3rd and I’ll post the link then, incidentally Jerry Blavat (The Geator) will be 70 that same day.

Which bring us to the House of Rock, an establishment situated in Moss, Norway and they’ve just started a label, the first release of which is just about the only credible way I could think about following what I just heard. The Twisteroos could be considered to be the Scandinavian Detroit Cobras but they’re actually much, much more than that. For a start they have the one and only Ms Vibeke Saugestad on board. When they request you to jump on board and head for “Where The Action Is” you just do it. “Twisted” is the party album of this or any other summer. Mr Henriksen, Mr Dahlmann and Mr Frehley Jacobsen let fly with a brew that leaves their Michigan cousins standing. Effervescence is the key and this is the veritable creamola foam. Cool covers and credible originals nuzzle together in a completely unbreakable embrace. They’re serving up “Chills and Fever” and I urge you to grab some.

You always wished that The Rezillos would make another record, right? Well this is as close as you’re likely to come to that with a whole lot of cream on top.

HORR2 is Caroline and the Treats “Bad All Over” and I’m pretty sure that The Dave Clark Five never saw this coming. Girl-powered pop punk never goes out of fashion and this revitalises all of the parts that were killed off after seeing The Runaways movie. A direct descendant of that, Caroline Andersen is Joan Jett to Morten H’s Kenny Laguna knocking off the short sharp nuggets bang bang style. “Make Out With You” is where the Ohio Express take on “I Wanna Be Sedated” to create a monster. Wah-ooh!! There’s that Ramones/Riverdales wallop running from front to back here and I do know that you kids, like me are suckers for that. There’s a couple of songs here that I could hear The Boonaraaas!!! doing too. I like the way the rock aesthetic rubs up the sixties and seventies garage disease. That angle keeps things fresh rather than just authentic. Something like the harmonic guitar “solo” that slides in on “It’s Cool To Rock” underpins the message of the song and straddles that fine line without any degree of chafing. Excellent rip-roarin’ version of The Angels “Wow WowWee” here too.

And with the adage that things happen in threes, HORR3 is a domestic release of “... Whatever Rhymes With Baby”, an album for all seasons that contains at least three songs of inordinately huge proportions. If there was such a thing as joined up Rock’n’Roll Radio where consensus could drive a tune into an international breakout hit then The Yum Yums would be stadium rockers.

They make music that is twice as infectious as any of these idiots that you might have seen on Glastonbury this past weekend. I saw something called The Cribs that are supposed to be some great shakes but there was something missing. Oh, I know what it was now, songs. Anyway, this version of the album is different to the Wild Punk version in that 4 numbers have been re-recorded with recently acquired drummist – Ulf Bendiksen.

All 12 songs here pretty much define the art of the pop song the way I like to hear it. They have a chemistry that has taken years to perfect but if this stuff was any more potent then it‘d be downright dangerous. This here is for teenagers of every vintage and it may well contain some sonic elixir for eternal youth as it's been known to make grumpy old bastards punch the air. And smile even.

Courtesy of Angel Aparicio Trujillo via facebook... this is a GREAT 45!

RIP - Tommy Hoehn

(Thanks to Dr H for the link)

Welcome to blogpost #5000. That’s it for me, film festival over for another year. Haven’t seen as many movies at this one and have missed a couple of things but that couldn’t be helped. I imagine that my peepers are relieved.

Been a Mississippi kind of week, starting off with the John Michael McCarthy stint. He’s from Tupelo originally. Last night I saw a show by a guy who has been called “The Sage of Tippo”, Mr Mose Allison. I was a little wary having only found out he was playing two weeks ago. Turns out that it’s been in the Jazz festival programme since Spring, talk about a communication breakdown.

Anyway, it’s a testament to the city that there was a sizeable, attentive crowd. Billed as The Mose Allison Trio, it turned out to be the man and a double bass player. Took an instrumental workout to get the sound right but by the time the singing started, it was crystal clear. What followed was an abject lesson in the blues drawing on originals and standards. I’d say he was pretty much at the top of his game and the audience was with these guys all the way. He even cracked out “My Brain” from the new album, I certainly didn’t expect that from this “Certified Senior Citizen”.

I think it was recorded by the BBC so I’ll try to find out when that might be broadcast, so that you can hear that I’m not telling porkies.

Today, I managed to haul my tuchus into Edinburgh a wee bit early thinking I could pick up a 45 that had been spotted in a charity shop. Turns out it wasn’t what I thought it was. Then I did a kind of good deed on my way to Filmhouse so maybe I’m not overdrawn at the karma bank.
“Soulboy” is about Wigan Casino. It’s always been a regret of mine that I never went there. A couple of friends did but I guess I was deep into the punk rock thing. That was really about 5 years before there was an actual commodity called that. In those days it would have been Stooges , Dolls, Groovies, Alice Cooper etc. I didn’t really come to appreciate soul music properly until maybe 1976. There's a record store in it that reminds me of the one I used to work in apart from the listening booth.



Anyway, it’s good. A bit of a crowd pleaser that’s kind of like if Bill Forsyth directed The Full Monty and shot it on the same film stock as “On The Buses”. It has a beginning, a middle and an end in addition to a great soundtrack. There’s not much that can beat The Marvelettes “When You’re Young And In Love” ringing around a theatre. Solid entertainment and a loving reconstruction of the times with a happy ending. No sign of a sequel and all the better for it.

All going well, I’ll be back to the music tomorrow but of course I will be dipping into Glasto just to see how low it can go. The Editors are on right now, how heinous are they on a scale of one to quite?

RIP - Alan Plater

Just a little fried still from the activities of the past few days. Stir in a dash of the “back to work” shakes and you can imagine that your reporter here might be toiling a tad. I did a google search on the movie from the other day and was a little surprised to see a couple of really pointless barbs. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion, however wrong or misguided but in these cases, the individuals seem deluded and just out for a bit of cybergum bumping.

The intention of getting on here last night fell by the wayside. Whys and wherefores are unimportant, it just didn’t happen. As it happens, time is off the essence again today but at least it’s the weekend and things are slowing a bit but there’s a Mose Allison show tonight and one more film at EIFF tomorrow (“Soulboy”) and I’m done for a while. The Memphians have done gone and returned to Gracelandland and I hope Mike managed to get a Nick Cave souvenir for Cori.

In these days when contrivance is everything, it’s kind of refreshing to come across something that’s pretty much unreconstructed. I’ve been reading reviews of “Cigarette Girl” and I’m wondering if there are actually two films of the same name and these divots saw the other one. I’m considering the possibility that these are the kind of people that would have complained about Suicide or The Cramps, even The Ramones as not being able to play let alone be conventionally musical. Irrespective of whether one enjoys the film or not, some of these maroons evidently operate at a much more highbrow level than me.

Been an eventful month all tolled, started off with the glamour of Barcelona. I did think about calling it a “bang” but figured that could be misconstrued. Furthermore, chance would be a fine thing. It’s likely to end with a whimper and a diet of bread and water but I’ll be darned if that might not be the nature of show business, particularly at my lowly level. It’s been a short week at the salt mine though and if there are any higher powers out there at a loose end then, anything that could be done to delay the onset of Monday would be greatly appreciated.

I wouldn’t be averse to praying if that might help.

RIP - Pete Quaife

It’s Wednesday already according to the calendar. I haven’t yet weight up what the spectre of austerity has in store and I imagine that it’ll all become clear soon enough. I spent the past few days in Edinburgh and haven’t really had time to jump on here.

I need to rewind a bit to Sunday and “The Runaways”. When the film started with Nick Gilder’s “Roxy Roller”, I garnered some hope that what I’d heard about it wasn’t true but this turned out not to be the case. Sadly, it reminded me of V*lvet G*ldmine and threw in a dash of BH90210. Kristen Stewart as JJ wasn’t awful, the guy who played Fowley was uncannily close if a little hammy. He’d make a good Lux if ever such a possibility presented itself. The guy who plays Rodney was like a hybrid of Smashy and Nicey.

All in all it’s a bit of a mess. There are perhaps reasons for the band to have a fictitious bass player and for Lita Ford’s involvement to be swept under the carpet. In the end, the final result doesn’t properly represent the subject to my mind and it certainly doesn’t address the phenomenon such as it was. I’ve seen worse but I’m not entirely sure who this is directed at. Despite the fact that The Ramones and The Runaways played many shows together, Joey and Co weren’t even mentioned. Artistic licence is one thing, a blatant disregard for the facts is another.

Last night’s “Cigarette Girl” screening was totally sold out and a it’s a testament to the film that nobody left the sweltering theatre. You’ve possibly had a look at the trailer and you might be thinking, yeah – they always throw the best bits into those. Mike McCarthy’s shot at the next level has much to commend it over and above the obvious charisma of its star Cori Dials. The composition of the frames is a refreshing shake up of the recent tired trick of bringing comic book aesthetics to the screen. It looks at least three miles better than all these effects that dampen action back to 2D in order to snare in the geeks.

There’s something quaintly old fashioned about this that cuts a little deeper than the Tarantino gloss and bluster. In terms of result versus money spent, this is a triumph pure and simple. There’s a possibility that it’ll become a graphic novel, overturning the usual route of trying to drag such a thing from the printed page to live action. Ultimately most might end up seeing this on DVD but I urge you to try and see it on a big screen. "Cigarette Girl" is blessed with a skewed vision of good old fashioned noir with a pneumatic heroine that channels her decision to stop puffing into making her demons work for her. A morality tale with much to commend it, I hope this sets up the director with a chance to tell the many other stories that are hammering at his noggin, looking for a way out.

I am perhaps biased but if this didn’t ultimately make the grade then I’d tell you. It pushes all the right buttons and never comes off as contrived. That in itself is a rare commodity in a world where style is often everything. Chalk this one up for substance(s).

RIP - Tam White

from Lenny Helsing... Tam White - legendary singer / founder of Edinburgh, Scotland's 1960s R&beatsters THE BOSTON DEXTERS and THE BUZZ died yesterday of a suspected heart attack. He would've been 68 next month. Tam was a phenomenal singer, and in the garage punk world his voice will surely always resonate due to leaving behind the audacious and terrifying 1966 Joe Meek-produced freakbeat-punker 'You're Holding Me Down' recorded as by THE BUZZ, and written by the 'Dexters / Buzz guitarist Johnny Turnbull... Tam also made his mark with a couple of earlier garage/R&B stompers, especially the rarefied stomp of 'Nothing's Gonna Change Me' waxed up for the the Contemporary label circa 1964.

The 'Dexters were whisked off to London, where they would record a couple of 45s for Columbia, before a split happened, two leaving and two staying with THE BUZZ being the result. Once the beat boom died Tam stayed in London, and would go on to carve out a singing career on the Middle Earth (including the great psych-etched 'Future Thoughts' b/w 'Lewis Carroll' 45) and Decca labels that took him well into the 70s. He then briefly had his own Scottish TV show...before the blues came howling back into his heart, and he pursued that, and his jazz leanings right up until his death. RIP Tam.

RIP - Chris Sievey

Time has completely run away from me this morning. Did you see what I did there? So that means I'll have to defer any explanation as to why I wasn't enamoured with the movie last night until later. Probably even tomorrow. You can amuse yourself until then, right? Good.

First thing I usually do of a morning is turn on the radio. Even before the computer. And today, “Seventy Six Trombones” came blazing out. This was one of the first pieces of music that I ever remember hearing and I’m pretty sure that if I looked, there’s a 45 of it at my parents house. On the Embassy label as I recall... anyway, it kind of weirded me out. I don’t really recall much of what happened last week but hearing this took me back someplace pretty vividly.

Visited the EIFF yesterday and hooked up with Mr McKay and for a short while with Mike McCarthy. The aspect of the festival being in June now seems to have had more of an impact this year. Maybe the hub is at Cineworld now because it didn’t seem to be at Filmhouse. Not that it wasn’t busy for the screenings but the hubbub seemed greatly reduced. I’ll get the taste of what’s happening up the road at “The Runaways” tonight. The big question is still will Joan Jett be there? Something that would make it a little special for sure. The feasibility of attending a press screening of “Cigarette Girl” was sketchy so a better use of my time is getting the bunker ready to receive guests.

I did see the Steven Soderbergh documentary about Spalding Gray entitled “And Everything Is Going Fine”. Trying to remember when I saw him at the Assembly rooms, maybe 1985, but the grey matter ain’t budging. I always liked his monologues and know a couple of people who really didn’t. He was an odd character for sure and this, to my mind, requires that you have a background appreciation of his work. It’s a little like a compilation of “extras" that might accompany a DVD collection. It purports to be a final monologue but it’s not.

I think it would be pretty impenetrable for anyone coming in cold but you never know. His wife said at the Q&A that it was about keeping his work alive and maybe introducing it to new people. I think that releasing the actual monologues might be a better way of tackling that and it came to light that something might be available that doesn’t kick back to the family. Such are the trials and tribulations of anything that has artistic value.

Now this looks like my idea of big fun... (thanks to Lada for the link)

Just about to head for Edinburgh and remembered that The Standells are playing "the London" tonight with King Salami and Thee Vicars (I think).

Not at The Boston (Arms)... they'll be delivering their "dirty water" here.

It's been a spartan week blogwise. By the time I dragged my carcass into work and back again the energy level was lacking somewhat. The city limits of what passes for normality are being approached and things should be picking up. I say picking up but what I mean is that I'm not sure that the lost time can be regained. I'm thinking more of a line in the sand kind of deal. Anyway, we'll see.

Look forward to meeting Michael McCarthy today for a toddle around Auld Reekie. His film "Cigarette Girl" is playing at the Edinburgh Film Festival and I urge anybody who can - to get down to the Filmhouse on Tuesday night at 9.15pm.

Here's the trailer in case you missed it on previous postings.

And a wee story about it by Brother Joss who is heading north with Nadia to make the scene. It'll be a stoatir and I can almost guarantee that Sean Connery will not be there but you never can tell.

Meanwhile, back on Planet Earth - I need to clean up and return a lawnmower...

I think there's just a little over a week's worth of Eric and Amy gigs across the US left so get out there and partake of a fine evening of entertainment, the like of which isn't widely available these days anywhere. Milwaukee tonight, Minneapolis tomorrow... the dates are here.