Apologies to fellow bloggers through whose
pages I usually meander, but my laptop has
unexpectedly taken a vow of silence and so
I'm temporarily unable to listen to any of
the tunes posted therein. I'm not tech
savvy, so I don't know if it's the speakers that are at fault, the soundcard or, most likely of
all, something stupid I've done, but
hopefully I'll get it sorted before the
weekend and be back catching up on missed
posts and leaving my usual witty, incisive
comments before you know it!
Meanwhile, this enforced period of radio
silence is allowing me time to dig deep into
my record & CD collections in a concerted
effort to slim down the quantity and overall
weight of my lifelong habit - floor space
and ceiling strength being among our chief
concerns at the moment.
Here's 'Strawberries
Are Growing In My Garden (And It's
Wintertime)' by The Dentists, a gently psychedelic pop gem from 1985 and a single that I wouldn't
dream of parting with.
It's my age I know, but whenever Savages are
played on 6Music (and with the recent
release of their debut album, they've been
played a lot) I turn to Mrs S and
say...'this is a splendid racket, but it
don't arf sound like Siouxsie & the Banshees
in places...' Or words to that effect.
Today, however, to mark Siouxsie's 56th
birthday, Tom Ravenscroft played a session
version of the fantastic 'Placebo Effect'
from 'Join Hands' by yer actual Banshees. It
sounded magnificent coming out of the radio.
To continue the celebrations, here's another corker from Bromley's finest.
A tweet from the venerable Sid Griffin,
reminds me that May 24th 2013 was not only
the 72nd birthday of Bob Dylan, but also the
22nd anniversary of Gene Clark's death.
In his tweet, Sid also mentions 'Some
Misunderstanding', a sublime song from
Gene's masterpiece, 1974's 'No Other', which
in turn got me thinking about a terrific
interpretation of that song by Soulsavers, fronted by Mark Lanegan. Soulsavers have released four long-players
to date, two of which feature Lanegan
extensively - 2007's 'It's Not How Far You
Fall, It's the Way You Land' and 2009's
'Broken', from where this version is taken.
Whether it's your 1st Bob Dylan concert or
your 1001st, the chances are that by the
time you enter the venue, you'll have a
wish-list of songs you'd like to hear
performed that night. It might be a great
version of a favourite 'classic' from his
catalogue that you're hoping for, or perhaps
your fingers are crossed for a dusted off
obscurity or rarely played gem. I, like
many, have a wish-list of unlikely suspects
as long as my arm - 'Dirt Road Blues' and
'New Pony' have been fairly high on it for
years.
If we're talking unlikely scenarios,
however, how about this? Bob and the band
stand to receive their applause after the
concluding blast of 'Thin Man', 'Watchtower'
or 'Rolling Stone' and begin to file off the
stage. Bob pauses, walks back to his
keyboard and, alone in the spotlight, digs
deep and gives us this.
Kinky Friedman is an author, humanitarian,
tequila baron, gubernatorial candidate,
irreverent raconteur, Peace Corps veteran,
cigar smoker, animal rescuer, country
singer, fellow coffee lover and a man who
can count among his friends such luminaries
as Bill Clinton, Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson
and (slightly unfathomably) George W Bush.
I'm currently engaged on a project that I've
been meaning to undertake for several years,
namely to re-read all 19 of Kinky's mystery
novels in sequential order. In all but one
of these, the star of the tale is a
fictionalised version of the Kinkster
himself, aided and abetted by the Village
Irregulars, characters based on a loose
group of his real-life friends and
acquaintances. The books are engaging,
laugh-out-loud funny and extremely moving.
Kinky has the enviable talent of having the
reader sniggering on one page, before
bringing them up short on the next, with a
touching one-sided conversation with his cat
or a real-life memory of a loved one who has
been 'bugeled to Jesus'.
Some Texan advice from the Kinkster
In 2003 I attended a book reading by the
Kinkster in New York, where he was launching
'Kill Two Birds and Get Stoned', the one
novel in which his own character is not
featured, although the narrator's voice is
still very much Kinky's. After the event I
was lucky enough to meet the man himself,
along with his fictional sidekick, real-life
friend and fellow author, Larry 'Ratso'
Sloman.
A couple of weeks ago I renewed my acquaintance with The Kinkster, when I caught
a great show on his solo UK tour. Kinky
effectively abandoned songwriting at the end
of the 1970's, but still takes his songs out
on the road from time to time and bolstered
with readings, wry observations and the
occasional wince-inducing joke it makes for
a hugely entertaining evening.
Leading with the campaign slogan 'Why the
Hell Not?', Friedman unsuccessfully ran for
the office of Governor of Texas in 2006 and is currently gearing up for another run at
the post. Meanwhile 'Kill Two Birds and Get
Stoned' is being developed as a potential
movie and, excitingly, rumour has it that a
new Kinky Friedman mystery novel is on the
horizon - the first since he killed his
fictional self off in 2005's 'Ten Little New
Yorkers'! And me? I'm currently re-reading
1989's 'Frequent Flyer', book 4 out of 19. A
long way to go, but enjoying every minute.
Towards the end of the 1980's, Factory
Records launched a classical music label
with a handful of albums, which I dutifully
stocked in my shop in order to support this
interesting venture. Among the initial batch
was an album by the, then, 30 year old
English composer Steve Martland. I immediately found Martland's music recognisable and
understandable to my predominantly rock
mindset and went on to purchase a number of
his subsequent releases.
Listening to the radio yesterday afternoon,
it came as something of a jolt to learn in
passing that Steve Martland died in his sleep last
week, at the age of just 53. I immediately
reached for a couple of those early albums
and was gratified to hear that they remain
as vibrant and powerful as ever.
