All Our Years Become a Tale That is Told

In May 1994 I flew to New York for the third time to stay with my cousin and her husband. In later years whenever a trip to the Big Apple was looming, I'd pre-book tickets for gigs or other events of interest online, but in those pre-internet days she would mail me a copy of The Village Voice listings guide a couple of weeks before I travelled, then order any tickets I required and I would settle up with her when I arrived. It was all very analogue back then, but that was how I found out about an concert entitled 'In Their Own Words - A Bunch of Songwriters Sittin' Around Singin''. It was one of a series of similar events at The Bottom Line, a small venue on West 4th Street, taking place bang in the middle of my stay and a show I definitely didn't want to miss. For $18 I got to spend a couple of hours in the company of Ted Hawkins, Roger McGuinn, Pete Seeger and Joe South as they sat in a semi-circle on the stage talking about their lives and playing music acoustically, together and individually, in a very informal setting. 

I'd seen Ted Hawkins live in Norwich in 1986, on his first wave of success following radio exposure from Andy Kershaw, but he'd fallen off the radar again quite soon after. By 1994, however, he'd been re-discovered and chatted enthusiastically on stage about his new album on the major label, Geffen, and played us a few songs from it. Tragically, Ted's life was to end seven months later as the result of a stroke, aged just 58. 

In spite of Hawkins' considerable contribution to the evening, the majority of the New York audience were there for McGuinn, Seeger and South, all of whom played their best known material interspersed with anecdotes and memories. Inevitably, given the location and the parties involved, Bob Dylan loomed large in several of the conversations. Roger recounted the 'give this to McGuinn' story regarding the opening line to 'Ballad of Easy Rider', Pete Seeger gave his version of the mythical axe incident from the day Dylan went electric at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 and, perhaps most fascinating of all, Joe South spoke a little about the Nashville 'Blonde on Blonde' recording sessions in 1966. It was an unforgettable evening. 

We lost Joe South in September 2012, by coincidence the same month that Pete Seeger, at the age of 93, released what he claimed was the first album of all original music he'd ever recorded. 'A More Perfect Union' was written and performed in conjunction with Seeger's long-time friend Lorre Wyatt. Guests on the album included Bruce Springsteen, Steve Earle and Emmylou Harris. Though I have immense respect for his achievements, I can't claim to be a scholar of Pete's music, but 'Fields of Harmony', sung by Seeger alone, is a remarkable performance. The vocal, by this stage little more than an abrasive whisper, is extremely moving. 

Pete Seeger passed away 11 years ago today.

 'When my days have been consumed, like smoke

 I will lay me down to sleep, in peace 

Over fields of harmony, I'll fly.' 

Pete Seeger - Fields of Harmony

Friday Photo #67

In my mind, this series is a relatively recent, if not altogether regular, feature on the blog. Of course nothing has been particularly regular round these parts for some time, but you catch my drift. Anyway, imagine my horror to discover that the very first Friday Photo entry was way back in June 2021 - 3½ years ago! I set out my intentions in that very first post. 

'...a photo, probably taken on my phone while out walking, or maybe an oldie retrieved from the family archive, perhaps even an anonymous antique snapshot plucked from what remains of my collection of such ephemera. To accompany it, a tune, ideally one that's at least partially inspired by the image...'

Up to now, the majority of photos that I've shared have been drawn from the second category - the family archive. Unsurprising really, as it's a gift that keeps giving and there'll be more to come no doubt. Although I've dispatched hundreds of old anonymous photos that I picked up along the way, a few boxes still remain to be sifted through and/or scanned and shared - I hope to make some inroads in that direction over the coming weeks and months.

Here's an unknown drummer from the Royal Army Service Corps during WW2. He has a very modest kit, handy for moving in a hurry I would guess, though I wouldn't have wanted to be perched anywhere near that huge bass drum when it kicked in.

Jackie Mittoo - Drum Song

Monday Long Song

My online presence has been lower than ever during 2024, which I'm sure has helped me to end up in a better place mentally than at any time over the previous few years, though it's had the knock-on effect of having a drastically reduced engagement with the blogging community. I'd like to find a way to ease my way back into the game to some extent in 2025, if I'm at all able. I'll certainly give it a go anyhow.

Meanwhile, a handful of my favourite albums of 2024 have only put in an appearance very late in proceedings. Indeed one of them hasn't actually arrived yet and another isn't even scheduled for a physical release until March, but more of that in due course, all being well. Looming large in my heart and ears over the past couple of months has been 'The Way Out of Easy', a new double LP from Jeff Parker & ETA IVtet. Parker is perhaps most widely known as the guitarist with Tortoise since the late 1990s, though he's a prolific collaborator, having worked with the likes of Isotope 217, Joshua Abrams and Bill Callahan over the years.

The four side-long tunes on 'The Way Out of Easy' were recorded in a single day and although largely improvised, exhibit a meandering accessibility, thanks to an unhurried inter-band familiarity between the four musicians involved. It's a sublime thing.

Wishing you and yours a happy, peaceful festive season, however you choose to spend it.

Jeff Parker &ETA IVtet - Freakadelic

No Hello and No Goodbye

I fell for Nick Drake's music during my earliest days working behind the counter of a record shop, via the 1979 career spanning 'Fruit Tree' box set. At the time I knew next to nothing about him and can remember being quite shaken by the bleakness of 'Black Eyed Dog', one of four hitherto unreleased performances contained in that original set. 

Nick's short life ended 50 years ago today and it's remarkable to think that he'd only be 76 if he was still with us. The acoustic demo 'Time of No Reply' is my favourite Nick Drake song. It was originally released as part of the expanded CD re-issue of the 'Fruit Tree' set in 1986, before receiving detrimental orchestral overdubs for another compilation in 2004.

Time of No Reply

Friday Photo #66

My view pitch-side at Wembley in July

When Bruce Springsteen & the E-Street Band toured Europe during the Summer of 2023, the only London date scheduled was for the vast, flat, atmos-free, chatterbox-infested Hyde Park. My E-Street buddy and I hummed and hawed, consulted our wallets, took a deep breath and headed out to catch a gig in Amsterdam instead, flying back via Edinburgh for a second show a couple of days later. In spite of coming hot on the heels of a nasty bout of Covid, it was a truly glorious experience, though, for a man of my meagre means, catastrophically expensive. Still, at their advanced age, we figured that these were probably the last precious opportunities to see the E-Street Band in full effect. How wrong I was. 

When another European jaunt was announced for the Summer of 2024, my pal and I, convinced that this really would be the last time, hocked our family heirlooms and caught two UK shows, at Sunderland and Wembley. 43 years after my first Springsteen gig just across the road in the Arena, I left Wembley Stadium tired and elated after a staggering three hour performance. A great one to finish on I thought, as I shuffled down Wembley Way towards the tube station.

So now Bruce is coming back to Europe yet again next Summer, ostensibly to mop up a few 2024 shows in Italy and Spain that had to be postponed when he fell ill, but he's also added a handful of UK dates to the run. This time I was absolutely going to give it a miss (as indeed I am with Dylan's potential UK concert farewell this very week), as money, in the immortal words of The Valentine Brothers, really is too tight to mention. My E-Street buddy talked me round though and consequently I now have debts no honest man can pay, because I've stumped up for one more night on E-Street in Manchester next May. 

A moving solo acoustic interpretation of I'll See You in My Dreams has closed practically every show for the past couple of years and call me an old fool, but it gets me every time. Here's Bruce performing it at the 20th 9/11 Memorial Ceremony in New York.

Monday Long Song

Lord knows I carry a few regrets around with me as I hurtle towards my dotage and pretty near the top of the list is never having learned to play the guitar. Periodically throughout my adult life, little made-up tunes have spent time rattling around the void between my ears in search of a home, only to disappear forever into the ether when it becomes clear that I have no means with which to transcribe them. In particular, I'm an enthusiast of what is usually tagged as American Primitive Guitar, though it's a descriptor that I'm not altogether keen on. The (mostly) solo acoustic music attached to the aforementioned genre is invariably anything but primitive in either composition or performance. Also, flicking through my collection, both physical and digital, a growing number of my favourite performers in this field aren't even American. 

Take for example Doctor Turtle from Brighton (or Simon Ounsworth to his mates), who has a big ol' pile of tunes to die for over on his Bandcamp page. The Turtle archive is set at a Name Your Own Price level and he's more than happy for us to enjoy the music without digging into our pockets at all, though should you wish to contribute towards Simon's strings and biscuits fund, you can of course drop a few coins into the tin on your way out. 

Doctor Turtle - The Void Says Hi

Monday Long Song

Sitting between Soft Machine's earliest psychedelic Canterbury scene fusion odysseys and the contemporary jazz-rock noodlings of their later line-ups, is the sometimes overlooked Karl Jenkins period. These days he is Sir Karl Jenkins, noted classical composer, though at the time he joined the band in 1972 he was a jobbing musician who'd already served as saxophonist for Graham Collier's late 1960s' group, played on the original recording of 'Jesus Christ Superstar', lent his oboe talents to Elton John's 'Tumbleweed Connection' and co-founded the mighty Nucleus with Ian Carr. 

Karl Jenkins' eight year tenure with Soft Machine commenced with 'Six', the album Swedefaced above. It's an ambitious affair, a double LP - one studio and one live. The band rarely sounded more European than they do on the Karl Jenkins composition, 'The Soft Weed Factor'.

Soft Machine - The Soft Weed Factor