Monday Long Song

So there I was, one November afternoon in 1976, propping up the counter of the record shop where, some three years in the future, I would eventually work. I wasn't yet as familiar with the staff as I would ultimately become, but, if I happened to be in the store when the kettle was boiling, I was invariably offered a brew. Customers trickled in, the cash register ker-chinged and the music played. Ah, if I close my eyes I can practically smell the old place.

The aforementioned kettle was pressed into service once again with the arrival of the rep from Phonogram Records. Back in the day, Phonogram handled the manufacture and distribution for a number of small labels including, at that time, Charisma. I'd wandered off up the shop, coffee in hand and was idly browsing through the racks when one of the staff called out to me. 'Do you wanna go to see Van Der Graaf Generator this evening?' I had a little history with band and knew they were playing locally, though with my abysmal teenage cashflow situation being what it was, I'd already discounted the possibility of going, but he was waving a ticket in my direction - a record company freebie!

A few hours later I found myself sitting in the stalls of a sparsely populated local theatre. Actually the phrase sparsely populated doesn't do the audience number justice. The room holds 1500, though I doubt there were 150 of us scattered around the place - little wonder that tickets were being given away. The band absolutely delivered nonetheless, playing a powerful set in support of their seventh LP, 'World Record'. The hefty (dare I say progfunk?) organ and sax driven 'A Place to Survive' was a favourite of mine back then and remains so to this day.

Van Der Graaf Generator - A Place to Survive

Monday Long Song

And so we turn to prog - an almost inevitable consequence of hosting a long song series, at least in my world. Van Der Graaf Generator's catalogue offers an embarrassment of riches when it comes to lengthy, intricate pieces. 'Lost' from 1970's 'H to He, Who Am the Only One' is a particular favourite. Lyrically, it's a fairly straightforward ode to a love affair gone wrong, albeit embellished by the odd unexpected time signature and instrumental wig-out.

'...without your hand in mine I am dead, 

reality is unreal and games I've tried just aren't the same, 

without your smile there's nowhere to hide, 

and deep inside I know I've never cried as I'm about to...' 

Think yourselves lucky that on this occasion I didn't dig out the half hour masterpiece that is Emerson Lake & Palmer's 'Karn Evil 9'. It could still happen.

Van Der Graaf Generator - Lost

Nic Potter R.I.P.

At the end of every month I head over to the BBC's Been and Gone page to check out those who have....well, checked-out in the last 30 days. While the household names will usually get a mention on the Radio 4 news, there are always others whose passing goes practically un-noted. So it was while reading the BBC's round-up of significant, but lesser-reported deaths in the month of January, that I learned of the sad demise of the musician and painter Nic Potter.

Nic is best known for his two brief tenures with Van Der Graaf Generator and his his much longer association with Peter Hammill's solo work, but he also played with Rare Bird, The Misunderstood and Chuck Berry in addition to maintaining a long solo recording career and forging quite a reputation as an visual artist.

Here's the classic 'Refugees' from 1970's 'The Least We Can Do Is Wave to Each Other', featuring Nic on bass.

Addendum: Read Peter Hammill's tribute to Nic Potter here.