The ultra-rare quadruple Swedeface - don't try this at home kids!
Composer, producer and all-round keyboard maestro Dave Greenslade died earlier this week, at the age of 83. Following a short stint with Geno Washington's Ram Jam Band in 1968, Dave joined British jazz-rock heavyweights Colosseum, staying until their split in late 1971, after which came the band that bore his name. I first crossed paths with Greenslade in late 1973, via a friend who had their second LP 'Bedside Manners Are Extra' and quickly became a firm fan. All these years later, Greenslade's four original albums remain in my collection and whenever I play one of them, I invariably end up playing them all.
From 'Time and Tide', the band's final LP (and my own favourite), 'Catalan' is a fine showcase for Dave Greenslade's dexterity on the ivories.
Back in the 1970s, most of the Friday morning playground chatter concerned the previous evening's edition of Top of the Pops. A lucky few of us would've recorded selections from the programme on our new fangled cassette machines, turning to shush our parents as we held a microphone up to the tiny tinny speaker next to the screen. The rest relied on mental highlights, etched into transfixed memory and enhanced by the shared recollections of classmates. Memorable performances seemed to come thick and fast for us throughout those years; David Essex's extraordinary 'Rock On', Leo Sayer's pierrotesque tour-de-force 'The Show Must Go On' and our first glimpse of the unique genius of Sparks, via 'This Town Ain't Big Enough For Both of Us', to name but a few - all of these before we even start on the likes of Bolan, Bowie, Slade, Sweet etc. The cultural impact of Top of the Pops may have been tarnished by the evil actions of some of the presenters and dimmed by the passing years, but those performances resonate with me to this day. Another that stands out is Cockney Rebel's 1974 TOTP debut with 'Judy Teen'. The following morning, before the school-bell rang, a group of us huddled together beneath the netball hoop to exchange our thoughts on the brilliant quirky oddness of the song and frontman Steve Harley's strangely alien appearance. It was the stuff we lived for. Needless to say, the BBC have wiped that particular edition of the show, though a later TOTP version of the song is preserved on YouTube.
I happened to be in London on Sunday, just half a dozen miles from my childhood stomping grounds, when news of Steve Harley's sad passing pinged onto my phone. In The Boleyn later that evening, I raised a pint of Five Points Best to Steve and to all those pals from the old schoolyard.
I kept increasingly erratic hours as December progressed, arriving at work by 4am in a fruitless attempt to get ahead of the game before the doors opened and pausing only for a quick shower before hitting the sack as my eyes began to burn early in the evening. Food wasn't high on the list of priorities, though I did discover the revitalising powers (and convenience) of an instant porridge pot in lieu of lunch and more than once wondered if it'd be possible to have an intravenous drip of coffee surgically attached to my body in some fashion. Anyway, it was while in this slightly altered state that I glanced at my phone in the early hours of December 20th to find that Shirley Watts had passed away at the age of 84. It was sad news, but I allowed myself a brief bittersweet smile to know that she was now reunited with her beloved Charlie. With a mug of steaming black coffee in one hand I scrolled further through my Instagram feed and began to see multiple photos of Terry Hall appear. My semi-conscious mind reasoned that it must've been his birthday, but of course the truth was altogether more tragic.
I've yet to begin trying to catch up with what's been going on around these parts in the period that I've been otherwise engaged, but I'm sure that blog tributes to Terry will have been fulsome and heartfelt across the board. His passing is one of those, not unlike that of Charlie Watts actually, that has hit unexpectedly hard. Terry Hall's music entered my life when I saw The Coventry Automatics supporting The Clash in 1978 and, well, he's kind of been there or thereabouts ever since. It was only at the end of November that I dug out The Specials' comeback album 'Encore' for a spin and marvelled once again at what a very good record it is.
Somewhere in this flat there's a box of VHS videos, the remenents of the days when I recorded anything relating to music off the TV. I threw away bin-liners full of those tapes when I got rid of the telly in the early noughties, but somewhat illogically still hold onto a few particularly prized videos, even though all the contents are probably available on YouTube these days. One of the tapes that I kept contains Fun Boy Three's live cover of 'The End', the band's TV swansong, broadcast on the short-lived programme 'Switch'. It's a performance every bit as electrifying now as it was that evening back in 1983. Terry's hair is quite magnificent too.
It's Sunday afternoon and the heartbreaking news of Mimi Parker's death has just been announced by her partner in Low and in life, Alan Sparhawk. Mimi was only in her mid-50s and had been living with ovarian cancer for two years. I was very fortunate to see Low live in 2013, a wonderful concert that remains fresh in my memory all these years later. I wrote a little about the spellbinding nature of that evening here.
On Friday December 21st 1973 I saw Sweet at The Rainbow Theatre in Finsbury Park. It was only my third ever concert, but the second time I'd seen the band at the iconic venue that year. Five years would elapse before I saw Sweet live again and a further three years before I caught them for a fourth and final time, albeit in a Brian Connolly-less trio configuration - a three piece Sweet if you will.
Bassist Steve Priest passed away yesterday at the age of 72, leaving Andy Scott as the sole survivor from the classic line-up. The December 1973 Rainbow show was recorded and seven of the thirteen songs played that night appeared two years later on the double compilation LP 'Strung Up'. 'Hellraiser', which had reached No.2 in the singles chart earlier that year, opened the set.
The terrible news broke just minutes ago that Richard Swift has succumbed to the previously reported life threatening condition from which he has been suffering. He was 41 years of age. The world has lost a uniquely gifted singer, songwriter and producer.
Marc Riley paid warm tribute to former gaffer Mark E.Smith on Wednesday evening, when announcing Smith's death on 6Music. Their relationship wasn't always a smooth one (can anyone claim to have had a truly smooth relationship with MES?), but Riley acknowledged that Smith '...taught me a lot about life and he taught me a lot about music. The Fall were my favourite band when I joined and they were still my favourite band when I got kicked out.'
MES could be cantankerous, funny, ornery, mischievous, confrontational, grumpy, chivalrous, obnoxious, uncompromising, charming, single-minded, exasperating.....plus a thousand other things that made him the complex human being he undoubtedly was, but the unique noises he made with The Fall for over 40 years were wonderful, frightening and often utterly gobsmacking, right until the very end. We'll not see his like again. The Fall - Auto Chip 2014-2016
Fifteen years ago today, the world lost Joe Strummer. Husband, father, guitarist, singer, songwriter, actor, 101er, Latino Rockabilly Warrior, Mescalero and Punk Rock Warlord of The Clash.
Following less than a month after the death of Tommy Keene, the world lost another power pop legend on Tuesday, in the shape of Pat DiNizio of The Smithereens, who passed away at the age of 62. The Smithereens formed in 1980 and, at their very best, made a series of carefully crafted pop nuggets sound utterly effortless - a neat trick if you can pull it off. In their long career, the band opened for a veritable who's who of the great and good, including The Ramones, Pretenders, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Lou Reed and Bruce Springsteen. They were also big favourites of a certain Kurt Cobain.
I saw The Smithereens just once, at The London Astoria in 1988. As I recall it, the crowd was thin and strangely unresponsive. The band, however, were on fire, playing as if their lives depended on it.
Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau wept openly last Tuesday, while commenting the death of Gord Downie at the age of 53. With the possible exception of Barack Obama, can you imagine any other political leader, past or present, for whom the passing of a rock singer would invoke such a vivid, naked show genuine grief? 'Our buddy Gord' he said, '.....loved this country with everything he had and not just loved it in a nebulous, 'Oh, I love Canada' way. He loved every hidden corner, every story, every aspect of this country that he celebrated his whole life.'
In addition to fronting The Tragically Hip for over 30 years, Gord released 5 solo albums and had long been heavily involved in environmental movements and indigenous affairs. He was diagnosed with a particularly aggressive brain tumour at the end of 2015, made his diagnoses public in in May 2016 and performed an emotional farewell tour of Canada with The Hip through the Summer of that year. In spite of his poor health Downie stayed busy, making a film, co-authoring a graphic novel and recording a final solo LP, 'Introduce Yerself', produced by Broken Social Scene's Kevin Drew, which is scheduled for release next week.
I was very fortunate to see The Tragically Hip several times during the 1990s, in a series of much smaller venues than they would have been used to playing back at home. If you weren't paying attention, you might be forgiven for thinking that they were just another, very good, rock band, but take a closer listen to Downie's lyrics, which often tackle subjects not typically associated with rock music. 'Courage', for example, draws inspiration from Hugh MacLennan's 1959 novel 'The Watch That Ends the Night', 'Three Pistols' looks at the life and mysterious death of the early 20th century artist Tom Thompson and 'Fifty Mission Cap' concerns the 1951 disappearance of Toronto Maple Leafs hockey player Bill Barilko, whose mortal remains lay undiscovered in dense woods for 11 years.
'Ahead by a Century', on the other hand, is a somewhat more straightforward tale of youthful romance and innocence lost.
With the passing of Chuck Berry over the weekend, Jerry Lee Lewis (81) and Little Richard (84) are now the last surviving original rock 'n' roll pioneers. Chuck of course was unique among his contemporaries, by virtue of the outstanding poetry of his lyrics. Newly recorded material is due for release later this year, but the last album Berry issued in his lifetime was 'Rockit', way back in 1979, a record that concluded with the extraordinary spoken word 'Pass Away'. In 1986 Chuck and Robbie Robertson sat down in front of a film crew to document an even more extraordinary performance of the piece.
I'm tremendously saddened to hear of the death of Keith Emerson. Emerson Lake & Palmer were a fundamental cornerstone
of my broadening musical world-view throughout the early to mid-1970's and although many records
from that period would later disappear from my collection during the great punk cull, ELP's self-titled debut,
'Tarkus', 'Pictures at an Exhibition', 'Trilogy' and 'Brain Salad Surgery' never left the family.
The quality of this clip is quite poor, but just watch those fingers go.
Here's Keith (and Carl Palmer) on the Oscar Peterson show, performing Keith's 1976 solo release, 'Honky Tonk Train Blues'.
Very sad to hear of the passing of New Orleans giant Allen Toussaint. Lee Dorsey's 'Yes We Can', 'Fire on the Bayou' by The Meters as well as his own LP's, 'Toussaint' and 'Motion', all cropped up in my own record collection fairly early on and are cherished there still. Rest easy Sir.
Steve Lamacq concluded his show on 6Music this evening with the sad news that Colin Dredd (aka Colin Masters), bassist with The Newtown Neurotics from 1978 to 1988, passed away earlier today. There are those who know the band's catalogue, and indeed the people involved, far better than I, though I was lucky enough to see the Neurotics a couple of times in the mid-80's and still own one or two of their records.
'Airstrip One' was a personal favourite at the time and is invariably the first tune that comes to mind when I think of the band, and the aptly titled 'This Fragile Life' was added to singer Steve Drewett's moving Facebook tribute to Colin.
What an awful week. First Bobby Keys, then
Ian McLagen and today, news that Nick Talbot,
also known as Gravenhurst, has passed away,
aged just 37.
Here's a short film about Bristol and the
impact that the city had on his life and
music, which was uploaded to Nick's YouTube
page just a couple of weeks ago.
37 years? Can it really be 37 years? Here's one from (gasp) 43 years ago, featuring Marc, Micky and Steve, with a little help from Babs, Flick, Dee Dee etc, who kind of look as if they're dancing to a different song.
"We never expect to hear about death. We never wake up knowing someone will have died today. As we busy ourselves with all of the lovely distractions that life offers us... we push death away... like some unwanted vegetable on the dinner plate. But every once in a while, death enters our periphery and reminds us that it's still there. Not to scare us... not to terrorize us... only to remind us to cherish each bite of the meal put before us. Like it or not we will be made to eat our vegetables. My deepest gratitude for the man who reminded us to play with our food. Au revoir, Robin Williams." - Shane Koyczan, 12/8/14.
Sad news to start the weekend. Tommy Erdelyi, a.k.a. Tommy Ramone, the last original member of The Ramones, passed away on Friday. Tommy played on those first three groundbreaking studio LPs in 1976/77, setting the style template for his successors on the drum stool, principally Marky, to follow until the band's dissolution in 1996. He's also behind the kit for what I consider to be among the very greatest of all live albums, 'It's Alive'. Additionally, Tommy handled co-production chores for three of the four LPs I've mentioned, co-wrote 'Blitzkrieg Bop' with Dee Dee and went on to produce the great 'Tim' for The Replacements in 1985.
I can't claim to be their greatest fan, but I, like many others of my age, had a definite Deep Purple period. As Mark Steel remarked on Twitter this evening, their heyday was a time when 'heavy metal had a tune that all the family could enjoy'. I'm not sure my parents would have agreed, but I can see where he's coming from. Tonight, to mark the sad passing of Jon Lord, here's a tune from the tail-end of that heyday, but what a stormer it is.
