Around this time last year, I optimistically expressed the hope that I'd have more of an online presence in 2025 than in 2024. Not a difficult thing you might think, but it's a prediction that hasn't aged at all well, given that my engagement in this community that I value so much subsequently dwindled to nowt but a trickle in the ensuing 12 months. I'd roughly sketched out ideas for two new series for 2025 and had planned to resurrect another old one, all to no avail. I'll try again in 2026, as and when headspace will allow.
About a month ago I began to scribble down a few words about a selection of my favourite albums of 2025 with a view to putting up a couple of seasonal posts, though, needless to say, the old enemy on the wrist defeated me as inspiration ran dry and fatigue set in. Rather than publish what I've written so far, I'll carry it all over and repurpose it for some posts in the new year, by which time I'll hopefully be bright eyed and bushy tailed!
To close 2025, I'll look forward to one of my big hopes for 2026. Sam Grassie, very much a spiritual heir to Bert Jansch and John Renbourn, has just announced his debut solo LP, 'Where Two Hawks Fly' and released the first music from it, 'Lighthouse Keeper', a lovely song rearranged from an earlier EP.
Compliments of the season one and all and best wishes for the new year.
Apologies for my prolonged absence round these parts. I've missed you all and will try to be more visible next year. Wishing you health and happiness in 2024.
The closest pub to my gaff had already ceased trading by the time I rolled into town a couple of years ago. It wasn't alone either. Two more former hostelries also stand abandoned and forlorn within a mile of my front door. I quickly became convinced that my would-be local, in spite of its listed building status, was destined to eventually become a residential property. So imagine my delight when, out of the blue, the old place was purchased and reopened as a boozer in the Spring of 2022. Since then the pub has become something of a bolthole for me on a day off, a place to while away an hour at lunchtime with a book, either indoors, or, during the heat of the Summer, out in the yard (it can't really be called a beer garden). The pub was open for a couple of hours on Christmas Day, allowing me the perfect opportunity to stretch my legs, enjoy a pint and have a bit of a chinwag with a group of friendly strangers at the bar, before returning to the solitude of my flat.
As I mentioned previously, I didn't do too well on the eating front during the busy run-up to Christmas, variations of toast and porridge mainly, so I was determined to enjoy a decent meal on the big day itself. When I got home from the pub I roasted every vegetable I could find in the fridge, threw in a few pieces of Quorn, piled the lot onto a monster Yorkshire pud and doused it all with lashings of gravy. It may not look (or sound) that appetising to most readers, but my goodness it was welcome, delicious and filling. The only problem was that following the long, exhausting festive period at work, the bracing wander to the pub, a midday pint and such a hearty repast, within a very short time I could barely keep my eyes open. Long story short, I was in bed by a little after 6pm and didn't stir for a full eleven hours. What a glorious and much needed lump of sleep that was.
All being well, there'll be one more pre-festivities post on Thursday, but just in case that doesn't come to pass, enjoy James White's jolly tale of 'Christmas With Satan' from the reloaded edition of the Ze Christmas Record, an album that also contains one of my very favourite seasonal songs, 'Christmas Wrapping' by The Waitresses.
In mid-November, right at the point where the busyness level at work changed gear from simply hectic to full-on pre-Christmas panic, I started to feel a bit under the weather. Not Covid under the weather, but unusually fatigued and retreating to bed at 6 in the evening under the weather. I couldn't fathom it and soldiered on feeling grotty for four weeks until one evening when I removed my shirt and it all became clear. A vivid rash had appeared across my chest, which by the following morning snuck under my armpit and around onto my back - shingles. With the rash came searing pain to add to the fatigue. My doctor prescribed a course of 5 huge tablets a day on top of the regular painkillers I was consuming every four hours just to obtain some level of comfort. The long and the short of it is that I've been off work now for by far the longest period since catching mumps from a record shop customer in 1980! I'm well on the mend though and only mention all this to explain the tumbleweed that's been blowing around the corridors of this blog for some time. I return with a brief look at some of the music that has kept me going throughout 2021. Links to further information/listening in red.
A monthly EP project, which picked up where the 2020 album of the same name left off. A total of 48 tracks written, recorded and released across the past 12 months, featuring words and music inspired by feral animal sounds, ancient stories and personal folklore. I'm already dreading the empty space where an EP should be come the end of January.
The second LP of avant-mutant-disco from Glasgow's AMOR (this time made in conjunction with Norway's LEMUR) appeared way back in January. Since then Richard Youngs has released his usual steady stream of solo records throughout the year. I've managed to pick up up about half a dozen of them, but I'm sure I've missed many more.
In February Kungens Män put out a limited edition box set ('Innanför Boxen') containing four LPs previously only available digitally plus 'Den Nya Skivan', which helpfully translates as 'The New Record'. Providing we're all still here to tell the tale, the band are due back for some UK dates in April. Go see them, they will change your life.
As many of my oft-postponed concerts of the past 18 months finally started taking place this year, I found myself picking and choosing what to actually attend, passing on several and masking up for just a precious few. One of the essential shows was by the phenomenal Richard Dawson. There really is no-one like him on stage or on record and his recent collaboration with the Finnish group Circle sits easily amongst the best things I've heard in 2021.
With every successive release, Jack Cooper sheds a little more of his previous musical skins and now 'Island of Noise' finds almost all traces of Mazes and Ultimate Painting erased. A completely analogue project, 'Island of Noise' was record onto 2" tape, is available only on vinyl and is housed within a box with an accompanying booklet all of which were manufactured using recycled and sustainable materials. Admirable though these details are, they'd mean little if the music itself wasn't so rich and rewarding.
An absolutely majestic debut duo album from Christina and Alex, who also play in a trio with steel guitarist Noel Dashwood. 'Hunter' is only the first of two lockdown projects from Alden & Patterson to arrive, the second, their first child, is due in February.
This brief overview of standout records released over the past twelve months is not in any order of personal preference, though if I had decided to reveal its contents in a TOTP chart countdown format, 'Descension (Out of Our Constrictions)' would unquestionably be my No.1 album. Recorded live, it's a single, hypnotic, 75 minute piece, spread across four sides of vinyl. Genre defying.
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I'll leave you with Beak's wonderfully sinister festive offering from back in 2017, 'Merry Xmas (Face the Future)'. Compliments of the season everyone - here's to better times ahead.
This morning, before another long day of retail madness commences, I'm briefly firing up the old laptop for the first time in nearly a fortnight to pass on compliments of the season to one and all. By any measure, 2020 has been a shocker and I remain constantly grateful for the two principle communities that I'm a part of - the gang of oddballs at work, who it lately feels like I'm spending my whole life with, and the geographically far-flung bunch of likeminded souls that hang out in this little corner of t'internet.
I finish work at 6pm on Christmas Eve and am back in the store at 8am on Boxing Day. My highlight of Christmas Day itself is already set in stone. At 8pm I'll settle down before my computer, as I have done 40-odd times already this year, to watch Robyn Hitchcock & Emma Swift perform another live Sweet Home Quarantine show from their East Nashville HQ. It's an absolute joy every week.
It feels like I've listened to very few song based records this year, erring instead towards ever longer, meandering instrumental pieces with which to carve a path through my cluttered brain. In contrast though, I'll leave you with three very short, distinctly diverse festive-themed tunes, each clocking in at 2 minutes or less.
Take care all. Enjoy your Christmas however you can and stay safe.
One morning in October as I clocked in for my shift, I couldn't help but notice that music was playing through the public address system, a system until then only used for imploring reluctant members of staff to 'jump on a till' when an unexpected rush occurred or to berate an inconsiderately parked customer into moving his or her vehicle. Yes, a nominal internal company radio station was on the air - in reality an external drive playing a selection of random tunes interspersed with social distancing information. The music, however, was awful - truly awful. I'd consider myself to have a working knowledge of pop music, but this stuff was unrecognisable and bland in the extreme, falling slap-bang into the category of aural wallpaper. The weeks went by and gradually it became the default background noise of a working day. Of course I expected to hear random Christmas songs phased into the playlist as we entered the festive season, but what I didn't bank on when I walked into the store on December 1st was to hear this belting out of the system.
The Coral - Jacqueline
You could've knocked me down with a feather. It was yer actual Coral....playing at work! Next up was 'Talk of the Town' by The Pretenders. Then 'One Vision' by Queen, which was slightly less welcome to be honest, but you get my drift. Suddenly, without warning, we were getting proper songs by proper artists instead of endless bucket loads of dreary muzak. Yes, this stuff is indeed interspersed with the anticipated Christmas songs, but wondering what tune is coming up next has certainly put a spring in my step each day. To date we've had music from artists such as Stevie Wonder, Joni Mitchell, Bob Marley & the Wailers, The Supremes, Steve Winwood, The La's, James Brown, Siouxsie & the Banshees, Sam Cooke, early Rod Stewart, The Travelling Wilburys, Dusty Springfield & The Four Tops to name but a few - and just yesterday 'Penny Lane' by The Fabs themselves, it really is all over the place and has become a welcome soundtrack to my working day. Even the festive tuneage stretches beyond the blindingly obvious. I mean when was the last time you heard this one going head to head with Slade and Wizzard in your local supermarket at this time of the year?
Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers - Christmas All Over Again
I've been chasing my tail this year. For the past few weeks I've been re-listening to as many of my favourite albums
from the past 12 months as I possibly can, but the task isn't complete and time has run out. So I pulled a long list
together, hoping that this would make deciding on a top 20 a little bit easier. Unfortunately, the 'long list' proved
to be exactly that - 69 titles. I'm actually waiting for a brand new release to arrive from Australia. It's by one of my
favourite artists so I'm pretty darned certain that it will end up in the long list, at the very least. So make that 70
titles. Anyway, the long list didn't really aid the process, in fact if anything, seeing them all written down in front of
me only compounded my indecision. Every year I swear I'm going to be more organised, like so many of my blogging chums,
and keep a tally of potential favourite records as I come across them throughout the following 12 months. Perhaps I'll try that again in 2016. You never know, it might work.
Anyway, in the manner of a parent recklessly choosing the favourites of his beloved children, I selected 20
albums from the long list in a few minutes of blind panic (actually, the top four or five are pretty much set in stone, but
you catch my drift) and have even attempted to arrange them in some kind of order. All will be revealed next week.
Right now, I'm just stopping by to convey seasonal greetings from all the gang here at Swede Towers. Have a very happy, peaceful Christmas, however you choose to spend it.
I'll leave you with a festive message from one of our sponsors.
If you enjoyed the recent 'Nursery Rhymes' LP by Bill Wells & Friends (as featured here) and have room in
your heart for something of a similar style, but festive in nature - look no further. In 2012, Bill, in collaboration
with members of Francois and the Atlas Mountains, The One Ensemble and Golden Grrrls, together working under the misleading
moniker of The National Jazz Trio Of Scotland (there are 5 of 'em and it ain't really jazz), released 'Christmas Album'. 'Like 'Nursery Rhymes', 'Christmas Album' is
produced by Teenage Fanclub's Norman Blake and the two records share a similarly dark and haunting tone. Familiar tunes
are disassembled, keys are changed, time signatures are tinkered with and the result is a beautiful collection that is less joyful and triumphant and more
bleak mid-Winter. Here's a selection to demonstrate what I'm trying to get at. Check out the whole of this excellent LP here.
Christmas - a bit of driving, a bit of
eating, a bit more driving, a bit more
eating, a massively long country walk, yet more
eating, still more driving, still more eating
then one last weary drive. There was also a fair amount of snoozing scattered throughout.
The house is bone-chillingly cold, but the
wood-burner is already roaring away and, as
Viking Moses notes, it's 'Still My Home'.
It's Christmas Day 1961, my second festive
season, but the first at which I'm old enough
to sit up and take notice. I'm clearly having
a ball, while Mum keeps a close eye on me to
ensure I don't become too over-excited. We're
wearing paper hats, meaning the post-dinner
crackers have been pulled. Dad has no doubt
just finished the washing-up. The trusty
family radiogram is probably piping soothing
yuletide vibes into the room, via the BBC
Light Programme.
Charles Brown's 'Please Come Home For
Christmas', was first released in December
1960, but became a US hit 12 months later,
right about the time this photo was taken. I
doubt it made the Two Way Family Favourites
playlist though, more's the pity.
Christmas Eve, the one night of the year that my
parents didn't have to cajole, persuade or shout
at me to go to bed. Newly purchased comic in hand,
I'd head up the wooden hills to bedfordshire as
early as I could get away with. The plan was to
read myself to sleep in the quickest possible
time. The sooner I fell asleep, the sooner it'd be
time to wake up and open the pressies that had, by
then, mysteriously arrived at the foot of my bed
- this was usually around 5am, if not earlier.
Here's one such Christmas, 50 years ago.......
Me. Right, I'm off to bed.
Mum. What now? You've only just had your tea....
Me. (Yawn...) I know, but I'm done in....nighty
night!
(A few hours later)
Me. Hmmm. This is a good haul; games, chocolate, a
yacht...one new slipper apparently, but where's
that special present I asked Santa for?
Me. Ah, there's the other slipper and.....yesssss!
Boxing gloves, just as requested! I wonder if I
can wear these when I start school next year?
I'll leave you with the mighty Long Ryders,
performing under the guise of The Spinning Wighats
and musing on 'Christmas in New Zealand'. Stay
tuned until the end to catch what Sid Griffin
wanted for Christmas in 1986.
A happy, peaceful Christmas to you and yours,
from all at Swede Towers.
I note that a Facebook campaign has recently been
launched, with the admirable aim of getting
AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' to the Christmas No.1
spot. All well and good and no doubt infinitely
preferable to any of the likely alternatives on
offer, but give me Ed Kuepper's interpretation any
day. Ed Kuepper for Christmas No.1? Where do I
sign up?
We're just back from the, much delayed,
concluding section of Christmas 2012.
Traditionally we visit Mrs S's Dad & Gran on
Christmas day and then her Mum & Step-Dad
for a few days in the run-up to the New
Year, but illness, inclement weather and
sundry other commitments conspired to delay
the second of our Christmas dinners by a
full two months. Right now though, we are
stuffed to the gills with stodgy food, salty
snack-treats and raspberry cheese cake, all
washed down with lashings of Rioja.
There was also, of course, the small matter
of outstanding pressies and Mrs S's Mum did
us proud - half a dozen bottles of Rioja
(did I mention we like Rioja?) and a DAB
radio. We listen to a lot of radio around
the house, which, up to now, has been by
means of a laptop, but after we'd arrived
home and donned our loosest clothing to
allow our full, groaning stomachs a little
comfort, I unboxed and set up our new DAB.
Following a short period of fiddling and
cursing, the tunes came booming forth in
superb sound quality, one of the first being
'Gangsta' by tUnE-yArDs, which I played to
death in 2011, but hadn't heard in a while.
It still sounds crazy, unique and
magnificent. Here's a great live version
that shows how it's all done. Now, where did
I put that Milk of Magnesia?
