In the Summer of 1977, Hugh Mundell stopped
in at the Black Ark studio to record two
sides with melodica genius Augustus Pablo in
the producer's chair, 'Why Do Black Man Fuss
& Fight' and today's featured tune, 'Let's
All Unite'. Both cuts were released as
singles and would eventually find their way onto
the following year's LP, 'Africa Must Be
Free By 1983'.
Hugh Mundell wrote his own songs and was
already a remarkably assured artist by 1977,
all the more remarkable when you consider
that at the time of this recording he had
only just turned 15 years of age. A friend,
the toaster Jah Bull, describes Mundell as
'...a very young youth at the time but a
very serious youth. When I say serious I
mean he was like a likkle man, not a likkle
boy.'
In October 1983, Hugh Mundell's house in Kingston was
burgled and while the guilty party was
caught and jailed, the perpetrator's
brother later confronted Mundell on the
street, shooting and killing him.
It's only Thursday morning and already there
are discussions about the possible contents
of The Rolling Stones setlist at Glastonbury
this coming Saturday. Really? Surely it will
be a crowd pleasing hits set - and why
shouldn't it be? I don't foresee any
Springsteen-style fan requests, magic-markered on pieces of cardboard, being
gathered up by Mick for impromptu consideration. Nor any
odd, painfully obscure, rarities appearing in the running order for the satisfaction (sorry) of
Stones geeks and completists.
All that being said, if the band should unexpectedly lurch into the following tune
on Saturday evening, this correspondent's
ears would certainly prick up.
After the ankle returned to full working
order, following my little mishap in April,
I initially restricted myself to walking
only on country lanes and paths - good solid
flat surfaces that presented little risk of
another painful twist. Gradually though,
I've carefully reintroduced a series of
favourite local circular walks that wander
off-road and down along the uneven surfaces
beside the river.
There's one particular spot on the riverbank
that I can't pass without at least pausing
for a moment, though quite often I will
stand there in silent contemplation for
several minutes. It's a very simple outlook
along a straight passage of what otherwise
is a fairly meandering river, but for some
reason it rarely fails to imbue me with a
tremendous sense of well-being. If my camera
is to hand, I'll invariably take a photo in
an attempt to capture the moment - and fail
to completely. For this reason I have
dozens of shots from the same spot. Here's
yesterday evening's effort, not bad, but you
should've been there.
One summer evening in 1982, at the
Hammersmith Odeon in London, I had the great
good fortune to spend some time in the
company of Blues royalty in the form of a
triple headed concert bill that featured B.B. King, John Lee Hooker and Bobby 'Blue'
Bland. The three giants played individual
sets, Hooker, beneath a single spotlight, on a
bare stage with just his guitar and
stamping foot for company, while King
fronted a large, gregarious, well-groomed
band, though in truth, it was Bland I was
mainly there to see. I'd recently become
enthralled by a series of his albums from
the 1970's, 'Come Fly With Me', 'His
California Album' and, best of all, 1974's
'Dreamer', thereafter working my way
backwards through his catalogue and
discovering his, often majestic, Duke
recordings of the 1950's and 60's.
At the conclusion of the show back in 1982,
the three legends gathered on stage to
perform a short series of songs together, to
rapturous applause. The highlight of the
evening came a little earlier for me though,
when Bobby Bland led his own modest band
through a terrific reading of 'St James'
Infirmary'. Here, to mark his passing, is his sublime 1961 recording of the
song.
Two more great Bobby 'Blue' Bland tunes are
featured on these fine blogs, here and here.
Denis Jones throws the Dick Van Dyke notion
of a one man band out of the window and is
surely some kind of technical genius,
embellishing his songs with loops, pops,
crackles and beeps created live and in the
moment. Yet for all the inanimate gadgets
and gizmos on display, a resolutely human
heart beats at the core of his songs.
Jones hasn't added to his tally of two long
players since 2010's 'Red + Yellow ='
(available to hear with associated visuals
here), this though, is an absorbing live
reading of 'Beginning', the perversely
titled closing track from his 2007 debut
album 'Humdrum Virtue'.
Today we heard the terribly sad news that James Gandolfini, star of The Sopranos, one of the greatest TV series to come out of America, has passed away very suddenly at just 51 years of age. This evening i'll drink a glass of red in his honour, but for now I salute him with my morning espresso.
I've spent the past couple of days mulling
over just how many superlatives I can get
away with using in a piece on Bruce
Springsteen and the E Street Band's concert
at Wembley Stadium on Saturday. Whatever my
allocation, though, it could never be
enough.
Overcoming a personal antipathy of the
'stadium experience', this was my first
Springsteen show in ten years, my first show
since the band suffered the devastating losses
of Danny Federici and Clarence Clemons and
was a joyous and moving celebration of those
who are gone and those who remain.
We got 'the hits'. We got newer songs, in
vastly superior versions to their recorded
counterparts. We got audience requested fan
favourites. But what those of us lucky
enough to be there will always remember, is
that we got a quite staggering performance
of 'Darkness on the Edge of Town' - the
whole LP, start to finish.
From the many shaky clips of the show
available to view on YouTube, here is the
intense reading of 'Lost in the Flood', an
audience request, originally released on
'Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J.',
Springsteen's 1973 debut.
