Monday Long Song

Last week was long, busy and, well, pretty darned glorious actually. Deets, as the kids say, to follow, but right now my brain is still mush from an endless, airless train journey on the hottest day of the year thus far, so let's ease into a new week with George Faith's sublime 1977 interpretation of William Bell's 'I Forgot to be Your Lover', here retitled simply, 'To Be a Lover'. The tune, released in the UK on Island's Black Swan imprint, was produced by Lee 'Scratch' Perry who makes an unexpected vocal appearance in the final 30 seconds of the mix. 'To Be a Lover' was a popular choice of cover in reggae circles during the 1970s, not least with Scratch himself who also produced versions of the song by Chenley Duffas in 1971 and George Earl in 1974. This one's the definitive reading though.

George Faith - To Be a Lover

Friday Photo #23

Every now and then, when the whim takes me, I reach into the cupboard and retrieve an album, box or carrier bag full of old family photos to rifle through and usually manage to uncover a snapshot or two that I've either not seen in an eternity or else completely forgotten about - this week's Friday Photo falls firmly into the latter category. It's my first full class photo (up to that point we'd only ever been photographed individually) taken in the playground of my Infants School in May 1967, a couple of months before all us kids went our separate ways, scattered around the Junior schools of Waltham Forest. When I look along the faces of those fidgety children today, I find that I can put names to very few of them, in stark contrast to similar class photos I've found that were taken in Junior school over the next couple of years, where I recognise and remember virtually everyone. I suppose it was all a very long time ago. Anyway, enough of my waffle - would anyone like to hazard a guess as to which of the assembled seven-year-olds above is a young yours truly? I've shared quite a few old snaps over the years, so it shouldn't prove too difficult.

Just over a week ago, our mutual friend John Medd put a shout out for good examples of non-Beach Boys Beach Boys songs. Here's one by The Super Stocks from 1964. To be up front and honest, The Super Stocks were led by writer/producer Gary Usher who actually worked with Brian Wilson & co on a number of occasions back in the day, but that doesn't detract from the fun fun fun of 'School is a Drag'. Incidentally, Usher hedged his bets on this subject by issuing a different version of the same song, also in 1964, under the guise of The Wheel Men entitled 'School is a Gas'.

The Super Stocks - School is a Drag

Monday Long Song

My Instagram feed tells me that a few lucky souls around the world have already received the new Kungens Män LP, 'Kungens Ljud & Bild' (translates as The King's Sound & Vision). Here in the UK however, we're looking at the middle of June before the postman potentially comes-a-knocking with our copies. Fortunately for me (unfortunately for my bank account) the individual members of Kungens Män seem unable to sit still for very long, so almost inevitably there's a cracking recent release from one of their many other musical projects to enjoy while I wait.

Half of Kungens Män constitutes three quarters of Svenska Psykvänner (Swedish Psych Friends), whose debut album 'The Hägersten Sessions' was issued in the Summer of 2019. Their second release, 'Böjda Toner' (Curved Tones), arrived exactly a month ago. Highlights include the 11 minute opening salvo of bubbling motorik that is 'Ur Led' and 'Rökkpgausen', 16 minutes of  prime psychedelic dub, Svenska Psykvänner's tribute to the late great Lee 'Scratch' Perry.

Svenska Psykvänner - Rökkpgausen

A Series of Brief Obsessions #6 - Roman Evening

I'm pretty sure that it was Mrs S who introduced me to the music of Roman Evening fairly early on in our relationship, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that I'd been left custody of their 'Tiny Ladies' CD after she departed. The 2003 album is a soundtrack to the novel of the same name, written by band leader Adam Klein. There's a distinctly melancholic feel running through it, grist to my mill, as illustrated by the Lennonesque 'Casework'. 

Roman Evening - Casework

Monday Long Song

The beard, should you be at all interested, is still hanging in there (see the rather fuzzy image of my rather fuzzy chin above). It's now been over six months since I last shaved and, barring clipping the odd solitary rogue whisker, I've not touched, trimmed or styled the facial growth in any way. Come to think of it, I've not had a haircut since the beginning of January either. Liberating or laziness? Perhaps a bit of both. One thing's for sure though, however much the beard itself may irritate me at times, I really am enjoying not shaving. 

Here's an appropriately titled chunk of classic 1974 Canterbury-scene prog from Hatfield and the North.

Hatfield and the North - Shaving is Boring 

Friday Photo #22

Wanstead Flats in North East London, is a detached slab of the ancient woodland Epping Forest - a 334 acre oasis of green in an otherwise heavily built up area. On Sundays, when we didn't go wandering the streets of Central London, Dad and I would often head over to the Flats. It was his old manor, an area he'd enjoyed walking around as a youngster himself. There we'd kick a ball about, play a few impromptu overs of cricket or just sit at the edge of  Dames Road Pond watching the older kids and their Fathers sailing their model yachts, a very popular weekend activity in that location in those days. After much pleading, Dad eventually brought me my own miniature yacht, made of wood and around 18 inches long, which we took over the Flats one Sunday. It was a thing of beauty, painted a glossy sky blue, with crisp white canvas sails. I was excited - over excited. As soon as Dad sat the yacht on the water and gave it the gentlest push I freaked out. We were at the mercy of the wind, which was the whole point of it for most people, but I was convinced that it was never coming back to shore. It did of course, eventually, but by then I'd made such a colossal fuss that I don't remember Dad ever taking it out with us again. Instead the yacht spent the remainder of my childhood on, and later in, a cupboard in my bedroom, before disappearing from my life completely, in that mysterious way that things do. 

I can't lay my hands on a photo of the yacht in question right at the moment, but here I am, all dressed up in my Sunday best, over the Flats one Sunday morning in 1967. 

Marc Bolan - Over the Flats (Home Demo)

Monday Long Song

Back in the day, Mrs S and I were very partial to the second and third Gruff Rhys solo albums, 2007's 'Candylion' and 2011's 'Hotel Shampoo. Gruff stopped off in Norwich on his tours supporting each release, playing at the small Norwich Arts Centre on March 13th 2007 and February 20th 2011 - we were there for both shows and they were fun nights to be sure. For the latter, support came from the great Welsh instrumental surf band Y Niwl, while four years earlier a young Cate Le Bon opened proceedings with her own set before later joining Gruff to provide backing vocals on a couple of his songs, including this convoluted tale concerning dramatic events at altitude, here featuring Lisa Jên from Welsh folk band 9Bach on the original studio version.

Gruff Rhys -  Skylon!