Nominations For God XXX

Samuel Beckett

The Enemy of Productivity I

Let me count the ways the BBC’s iPlayer helps me dodge the page…

Portillo On Thatcher: The Lady's Not For Spurning

Jonathan Meades:Magnetic North

Citizen Smith

Richard Rogers

Dance With A Serial Killer

OMD Dazzle Ships

The Sinking of OMD

Dazzle Ships OMD
Virgin/EMI

The UK music scene in the early 80s was awash with the bastard progeny of Brian Eno and Kraftwerk flagging up their desire to be different by waving a series of increasingly preposterous names at the record buying population. Depeche Mode, A Flock of Seagulls, The Human League, and perhaps most flamboyantly named of all, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, were pop groups branded to broadcast their outsider status before even a note had been heard.

Making the reality of the music match up to the rhetoric of the name-calling required effort. Rickety songs were pitched as quirky Quatermass lab lash-ups, iced with consumptive keyboard introspection and filled with Radiophonic Workshop-nostalgia.

Like the name of the bands that begat them, their tunes were christened with titles designed to layer in extra-textual depth. Thus in the case of OMD, a tune could be titled “Architecture & Morality” with a completely straight face. What might have once been a tongue in cheek approach to titles was now an alchemical conjuring act that transformed it into a proposition ripe for semantic and semiotic interpretation - a sheepish pop tune now bigged-up in Camus’ clothing.

The formula worked though and OMD’s commercial star was firmly in the ascendant by the time they retired to the studio to figure out the follow-up to 1981’s Architecture & Morality.

Plagued with writers block it was the call signs of Eastern bloc radio that provided inspiration. From these, Andy McCluskey and Paul Humphrey’s created a collage of short-wave warblings that criss-crossed between the regular tunes such as “Genetic Engineering”, “Telegraph” and the best of the lot, “Silent Running” wherein it’s obvious they’ve yet to forgive themselves for not being Joy Division.

Originally released in 1983, the allusion to camouflage in the album’s title couldn’t hide the fact that even with Rhett Davies’ glacial production this was pretty thin stuff at the time, requiring the inclusion of two old B-sides to beef it up.

25 years on and expanded with a clutch of extra tracks, the hope that this ugly ducking of clunky samples might somehow have transformed into a beautiful swansong of music concrete pop poetics is just wishful thinking.

At The Fractious Clinic

Joseph is in rude health as our visit today to the fracture clinic at Rake Lane Hospital happily confirmed. We were seen about an hour and a half after the time stated on our appointment card. The substantial waiting area was packed to the gills and tempers were getting frayed.

I asked Joe how he was feeling about having to wait and he replied “There’s no point in getting angry. It’s not like they’re making everyone wait because they can’t be bothered to see anyone is it?”

The wisdom of a fourteen year old boy was evidently beyond the grasp of several adults old enough to know better.

Observing this behaviour from afar Joe commented about how much energy the chump was using up by being so angry. He went on to make a further point about how much energy it takes to be angry – this coming from a rugby player, mind you – and that getting stressed about things over which you have no control is a waste of time and effort.

Apparently the UK was hit by an earthquake in the early hours of this morning. Unlike the accounts on the radio of people being shaken violently out of bed or falling chimney stacks, I slept soundly through it all. Indeed, I’m not sure if the tremors even extended to Whitely Bay although I heard that Battle Hill (a suburb of Wallsend seven miles away) was affected.

The only potential participation in these seismic events I could see was a fine film of masonry dust across the top of the bathroom sink. Of course, this may be more to do with the gale-force winds that battered the house during Monday and Tuesday and my own tardiness in dealing with that fall-out.

Atomic Rooster Homework

Sad epitaph to once great band
Homework
Atomic Rooster
Angel Air

By the time Atomic Rooster founder/organist, Vince Crane, reunited with singer/guitarist, John Du Cann, in 1979, the glory days of Death Walks Behind You were long gone. Two singles and the promise of an album release on 1980s label Polydor had Du Cann spend nine months at home with a drum machine writing songs.

After their rejection, Crane moved on (to Dexy’s Midnight Runners) leaving the guitarist holding the Rooster torch and a clutch unreleased home demos. Hardcore fans may claim the 17 rough sketches presented here (alongside the Vic Maile-produced singles) to be of Holy Grail significance but this material simply lacks the turbulent energies which fuelled the band at its best.

Despite occasional sparks, the underdeveloped ideas and sluggish rhythms suggests Polydor were right to pass.

Rick Wakeman Aspirant Sunshadows

Wakey, wakey Rick!
Rick Wakeman
Aspirant Sunshadows
Voiceprint

In the early 90s Rick Wakeman set his synths to snooze-control and produced a trilogy of new age noodlings specifically designed to help the stressed listener fall asleep. The story goes that his recording engineer fell asleep during the making of this, the third album of his intentionally soporific tunes.

These piano melodies, wreathed in smooth string sounds and occasional choral-style effects, are understandably different to the more dynamic solo work he’s better known for. However, though unobtrusive, they’re too much like pleasant but rather dull hymns that’ll have you yawning for sure but not necessarily for the reasons Rick would appreciate.

As the gentler works of Satie or Debussy demonstrate, “relaxing” doesn’t have to mean “bland.”

Random Penguin X

1965 cover drawing by Charles Raymond

Testing For Buzz XXXIV 1968 And All That X

Having tuned in from the very first episode of Doctor Who in 1963, I was enjoying the show more than ever in 1968. This had a lot to do with Patrick Troughton’s portrayal as the erratic time-traveller and a clutch of classic stories that included Yeti in the London Underground, sinister seaweed infiltrating North Sea gas pipelines, the appearance of Wendy Padbury as regular companion, Zoe (a major crush), the Tardis exploding into space (and our team landing up in the land of Fiction) and of course, Cybermen stepping out in the vicinity of Saint Paul’s cathedral. Phew!

In those simpler times all that was required for a story to capture my youthful attention was:

• the Tardis materialising
• the Doctor flicking a few switches on the Tardis console
• an air of mystery
• a passage of spooky music
• a fearful discovery
• the Doctor rapidly explaining how bad things are going to get
• a bad-guy glowering full-on at the screen
• a bit of running around
• the alien menace marching remorselessly forward
• a soon-to-be-dead character futilely resisting
• a bit of screaming
• an explosion or two
• the bad guy betrayed by his alien allies and meeting a grizzly end
• a race against time
• the Doctor rigging up a world-saving device from an old Domestos bottle, an upturned funnel and the innards of a radiogram
• the Tardis dematerialising

Street Life CVII

Happy Birthday Sam

Sam took time off from his busy birthday schedule to call in and say hello. The celebratory excitement factor was operating a full-force 10 on account of him getting a new job (better pay, vastly improved prospects) and possibly looking to get on the property ladder. I can't imagine that I was so together at the tender age of 23. I can't imagine it because I wasn't!

Nick Lowe Jesus Of Cool

Handsome!

Jesus Of Cool Nick Lowe
Proper

Nick Lowe distilled everything he knew about the art of writing songs and making pop music into Jesus Of Cool. And what he didn’t know, he made up as he went along with all the chutzpah of a quick-talking chancer who reckoned he was about to be shown the door at any moment.

As the glorious cover artwork infers, the album is a guided tour of his experience as a grizzled professional in the industry of human happiness. The man who served his apprenticeship in Kippington Lodge and Brinsley Schwarz, surveys the UK’s music scene from his bolt-hole in airless cut-price studios with a mixture of imperious disdain and idiot glee. Going for some glam-rock edging, “Music For Money” sticks the boot into the whole self-consuming cycle of manufactured pop, whilst no less caustic, “Shake And Pop” (also available here in its Rockpile persona as “They Called It Rock”) still rattles cages. Lowe’s studio tan got a break following an unexpected hit with “I Love The Sound Of Breaking Glass”, although how the ebullient “So It Goes” escaped the singles chart compilers remains a mystery worthy of a Dan Brown page-turner.

It doesn’t always work. “Nutted By Reality” is two separate songs awkwardly joined at the hip. The first part is a light skittering funk whilst the second is a bouncy Eurovision contender. OK, so it’s firmly tongue in cheek and viewed one way, it can be seen as ironic commentary on throwaway thrown-together material: viewed another way of course, its just bollocks.

This splendidly rough-cut frantic package comes with tons of extra material including the dark intimacy of “Endless Sleep” (from the Bowi ep), giving a hint of the mature Lowe style still to come. Lowe is credited on the track as playing “Senior Service cigarette lit by Swan Vesta Match, Fender Telecaster, cardboard box struck by cider bottle (possibly Bulmer’s)”. They don’t make ‘em like that any more.

Goodbye Teo Macero

Nominations For God XXIX

Wayne Shorter

Reliquaries II

The recently rediscovered rolls of film taken by Robert Capa during the Spanish Civil War.

Words And Music III

I Know What I Like

It’s good to be busy but not so good to be dizzy, that is, feeling unfocussed and disorganised. I blame it on a developing head cold which leaves me feeling wrecked and slightly hard of hearing on my right side. I recall seeing a Steve Reich ensemble performance several years ago just after a serious ear infection.

Although I’d largely recovered by the time the musicians took to the stage, the vestiges of the infection leant the music an exotic tonality that wasn’t unpleasant exactly but neither would you want to hear too much of it. Still, things could be a lot worse.

All of which means this may not be the best time to compile a quick list of favourite songs by Genesis. I was recently talking to Zorky (who looks after the official Genesis site over in the US) and in that pushy, self-serving way of mine, suggested that I compile him a top ten list of Genesis tracks which, if the ship went down, I would take to that mythical desert island.

The golden must-have period of this band for me is pretty much anything from Trespass to Foxtrot. I love the way the acoustic / pastoral aspects from that time have a mysterious, dark texture underlying them, the same kind of something-sinister lurking-in-the-shrubbery deal that a lot of Edward Gorey’s work taps into come to think of it. After that it starts going off for me although the first two post-Gabriel albums aren’t entirely without their moments.

So, without thinking too hard about it, this is what the top ten list looks like today.

1. “Visions Of Angels” from Trespass

2. “Dusk” from Trespass

3.“The Musical Box” from Nursery Cryme

4.“The Fountain of Salmacis” from Nursery Cryme

5. “Can-Utility and the Coastliners” from Foxtrot

6. “Supper’s Ready” from Foxtrot

7. “Watcher of the Skies” from Genesis Live

8. “Cinema Show” from Selling England By The Pound

9. “The Light Dies Down On Broadway” from The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway

10. “Blood On The Rooftops” from Wind And Wuthering

Interestingly, one of my old school pals, Alan Pearson, is a member of a Genesis tribute band called Los Endos, and that’s more than excuse to plonk one of their Youtube videos. We hadn’t really seen each other since leaving school so it was especially nice to meet him again when he came along to the launch event of the Toxic Tome in 2001.

Annoyingly he hadn’t aged a bit. Still thin as a rake, still blessed with all his own hair and still quick with his rapier-like wit. I suspect he has a sinister portrait festering in his attic. The swine.

Random Penguin IX

1970
The cover shows a detail from 'Triumph of Socialism' by W.Crane, 1898

MP TU

And Now For Something Completely Different…

MPTU
MPTU
(p)ATCO records

Pat Mastelotto’s musical journey outside of his day job as drummer with King Crimson takes him into some eclectic places. Whilst forays into the prog-electronica of TU (with ex-Crim Trey Gunn), TUNER (with touch guitarist L’enfant terrible, Markus Reuter) and the gob-smacking squall of avant-world mayhem of KTU (with Kimmo Pohjonen) have their sonic differences with Fripp and co, there’s enough common ground for most fans of one to gravitate towards the other.
This may not be that easy to achieve with the latest off-shoot of the TU-franchise which may well surprise folks with its straightforward blend of funked-up blues rock. M P TU brings together a bunch of pals operating in the vicinity of Pat’s Texas backyard: guitarist Phil Brown (who enjoyed a brief stint in Little Feat following the death of Lowell George), and veteran bassist and founding member of 60s art-rockers Spirit, Mark Andes. The potent dynamics are completed by the hard-rock rasp of the wonderfully alliterative Malford Milligan, adding a demonstrative frisson to Brown’s more introspective voice.

As far as the guitar goes, citing both Truth and Electric Ladyland (Jeff Beck and Jimi Hendrix respectively) as formative inspirations, Brown’s liquid style provides the dash and brio infusing tracks such as “The La-Land Land” and “The Heaven”. Mastelotto keeps it all trim and true in the pocket although manages to stretch out in the spacey menace of “Green Manalishi” (wherein a fleeting reference to “The Court of the Crimson King” briefly surfaces).

Middle East policy is questioned on Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” (with soundbites of Martin Luther King, to whom the track is dedicated), appearing particularly resonant in the age of Obama; a powerful, moving version wearing its hopes loud and proud on every inch of its unashamedly Liberal sleeve.

Stylistically, a million miles away from Mastelotto’s usual stomping ground, the superb playing and top flight sun-kissed Southern rock will probably render MPTU too mainstream for hard-core progsters. The rest of us though, get to kick-back and enjoy these old friends doing their thing.

Street Life CVI

Street Life CV

This Sporting Life IX

It's amazing (for me at least) to think that only a week ago at this time, I was wondering if Joe would ever walk again. Today, Joe was on the touchline as Rockcliff played a splendid game against Novocastrians, only coming onto the pitch to hand out refreshments at half-time and collect the flags at the end. Rockcliff's team work continues to impress and gave them a well-deserved victory after their two recent defeats.





Joe's accident made the front page of the local newspaper this week.

Whitley Bay News Guardian 14th February 2008

Joe has a few signed copies available on application!

Van Der Graaf Generator Trisector

Three's A Crowd...
Trisector
Van Der Graaf Generator
Virgin

What was always so striking was their collective sound as much as the material itself. Whilst Peter Hammill provided the bulk of the content, it was the group process that transcended the sum of its parts. The surprise departure of sax and flute player, David Jackson, whose ethereal embellishments and caustic licks were a unique selling point, therefore caused speculation about the remaining trio’s ability to maintain VDGG’s identity rather than end up as an adjunct of Hammill’s solo career.

Ultimately, they compensate for Jackson’s loss with shorter songs and Hammill’s precarious rocked-up electric guitar - more to do with timbre than technique. Whilst “Interference Patterns”, “The Final Reel”, “Lifetime” and the pile-driving blast of “(We Are) Not Here” have at their core those famously jagged and discursive elements which are instantly recognisable, their impact is marred by some inconclusive riffage such as the stodgy instrumental opener, “The Hurly Burly”, or a tired-sounding rant about gender politics and male hubris in general on “Drop Dead”.

Hammill’s over-driven vocals aside, this kind of stuff is simply too tame and run-of-the-mill to really cut the mustard.

Given that much of the lyrical content is about the passing of time, coming to terms with loss and encroaching senility,(“All That Before”) it’s perhaps forgivable that the otherwise atmospheric, “Only In A Whisper”, is a merely retread of “Solitude” from Hammill’s 1970 album, Fool’s Mate.

The Jackson X-factor is most sorely missed on the 12 minute ponder-athon, “Over The Hill” which never quite takes off in the way you suspect it might have done a couple of years ago. Despite such reservations, and the inescapable fact that Trisector lacks the consistency and bite of Present, their noisy ruminations exert a dark fascination that is hard to deny.

Nominations For God XXVIII

Edward Gorey

Truth Jeff Beck

Not Quite The Whole Truth…

Truth
Jeff Beck

EMI

Emerging from the psychedelic spring of 1967 with "Hi Ho Silver Lining", Jeff Beck got back to his blues rock comfort zone the following year with his first album. Though Beck's acerbic guitar and vocalist Rod Stewart's street-wise rasp had won hearts and minds in concert (particularly in the USA), when it came to the studio their onstage intensity became dissipated across what amounts to a patchwork of cover versions, old B-sides and some erratic production decisions.

The worst of these is the overdubbing of polite supper club applause onto the start of “Blues De Luxe”, which bizarrely transmutes into Beatles-style screamers by the end of the track. The fact that both Beck, and producer Mickie Most, felt the need to augment an otherwise serviceable performance this way suggests either a prescient post-modern irony, or (more likely) a lack of confidence in the medium itself.

The sense of this being a missed opportunity is tangible. The wah-wah gimmickry of “I Ain’t Superstitious” displays Beck’s formidable technique but it also reveals a stylistic disorientation, flirting with post-Hendrix pyschedelia and heavy blues but falling awkwardly between the two. “Morning Dew” fares better with a soul-infused rocking, and it’s hard not to admire Stewart’s stretching out on “Ol’ Man River”, despite being incongruously punctuated by Keith Moon’s ludicrous tympani work. Although containing many fine contributions (bassist and future Faces guitarist, Ronnie Wood is very good), ultimately it’s an unsatisfactory muddle.

It would take Led Zeppelin (still someway off the horizon when this album was recorded) to refine and perhaps, define, what Beck was struggling to achieve with Truth. Zep would not only lift “You Shook Me” (which includes future Zep John Paul Jones on organ), but push the call-and-response interplay deployed by Stewart and Beck on “Let Me Love You” and “Rock My Plimsol”, to its logical, symbiotic extension. Truth’s influence on Page and co, can be further heard by comparing Beck’s heavied-up intro to The Yardbirds’ “Shape Of Things” to Zeppelin III’s “Out On The Tiles”.

This album (and its follow-up, Beck-Ola) are often touted as important milestones in heavy rock’s emergence. Whilst true in part, the lack of cohesion in the choice of material and the failure grasp the potential of the album format as a means of expression, makes it more of a miss (albeit an heroic one) than a hit on that score.

The Aftermath Of A Near Miss

Joe got out of hospital having passed his period of observation and the occasional prodding and tapping of his reflexes. The damage to his muscles will take a while to heal but basically, apart from some soreness in his back and neck pain, he’s fine.

I know I should feel pleased and elated at his homecoming but instead my mood is incredibly flat. Perhaps this is a result of going slack after all the tension of the last three days?

I’m not sure Joe has any real sense of what might have happened but maybe it’s better to be like that rather than dogged by the sense of having had a near-miss with something terrible. I know it seems maudlin but as a parent you just can't help but do that double-take.

Tonight Joe's got a couple of school pals visiting and is enjoying all the fuss and attention. Yep, that’s a much safe bet for sure.

Random Penguin VIII

1967
Cover photograph by Tony Rollo for Newsweek

Back On The Mend

The consultant swept in early in the morning to tell Joe that there’s no evidence of a fracture – it’s confined to nerve and muscle damage - and that he should make a full recovery. They want to keep him in for another day for observation and an assessment by the physiotherapist. So today was an opportunity to get out of his rugby kit (at last!) and get a much needed shower.

As you can see from this post-shower picture, Joe is a joyous mass of celebration and gratitude following the news of his prolonged exposure to the National Health Service.

His mood was lifted later in the day when his mates from school and Rockcliff rugby team visited. Even better news for the tyro egotist was the arrival of a photographer from the local newspaper who took a couple of snaps of yer man on his bed of adulation. Unable to find a wifi signal in the hospital, I missed all the fun having slipped home to meet a couple of deadlines which were looming up.

This Sporting Life VIII

It began well enough with a lovely sunny day and perfect conditions for Rockcliff’s match against Seghill. Although Rockcliff were trailing by five points as they went into second half, there was a sense that they would eventually overwhelm the opposition.

As usual, Rockcliff were giving it their all and Joe was right in the thick of it as he dived in for the ball. It was more of a collision than a tackle, and to be honest I’ve seen worse but as I watched Joe attempting to get up and his legs going out from under him I knew immediately it was bad news.

Joe was prone on the ground, in great pain and unable to move or feel his legs or feet. An ambulance quickly arrived and after an agonising period where he was put into a neck brace, he was strapped onto a board and taken to hospital.

He was assessed as soon as he was wheeled into A&E but obviously needed X-Rays to see what was damaged. It would take another six hours before we had confirmation that his neck wasn’t broken and the brace could be taken off, and only then was he put into a bed. Those six hours were the longest day of my life, running through the worst case scenarios quietly through my head whilst giving every appearance of being chipper.

As the day wore on, Joe’s essential reflexes returned and with the help of some heavy duty pain relief he was stoic about the whole thing and gutted that he was going to miss Monday’s school rugby tournament.

We made jokes about the ceiling and the lack of reading material on it, talking through how it happened, the cheers of his team mates as he was carried off the pitch, how his neck brace might be the next big thing (Joe wanted to see what it looked like hence the picture), whether or not he would be able to get his headphones connected to the brace in order to hear some KillSwitch Engage, and all kinds of small talk designed to fill the moments where darkness and panic might otherwise loom to fill the void.

It’s a curiously draining experience sitting around waiting for information, a combination of high anxiety and utter boredom, as we lurch from one emotion to the next. Thoughts flit about from the jobs planned for later in the afternoon, the shopping you were meant to be getting, to the panic and dread that your child might be paralysed: a startling, stupid collision between the mundane and the profound that leaves you breathless.

By the end of the day, we knew that Joe was on the mend and although their was a doubt as to whether one of his vertebrae might be fractured (subsequently found not to be), the fact that all his reflexes and sensations were where they were meant to be, left us all relieved and elated.

Reliquaries I

The shoes of Fred Astaire

Nominations For God XXVII

Ralph Vaughan Williams

Street Life CIV

Words And Music II

Random Penguin VII

1994

The cover photographs depicts the young James Ellroy, aged ten, moments after being informed that his mother has been found strangled by her own stocking.

Hats Off To Jez Lowe

The North East did quite well in the Radio 2 Folk Awards with local lads Jez Lowe and Martin Simpson each being nominated in the Folk Singer of the Year catergory. OK so neither won but hey it's the taking part that counts! I have a major soft spot for Jez’s work having stumbled across him via the excellent New Electric Muse box sets in the 90s. "Bede Weeps" is such a haunting tune. Sometimes it can catch me off guard and get me all teary and emotional - Jez sings with such a plaintive passion about what's happened to the region.

You can hear some of Jez’s music over on his myspace site (though sadly not "Bede Weeps") and whilst you’re listening to that, you can read I piece I wrote on Jez a couple of years ago for the Northstars book (available direct from the Yellow Room).

In it he talks about the influence of Sandy Denny, Bob Dylan, et al, the North East's musical tradition and the importance and value of running your own label. The phrase "small, mobile, intelligent unit" springs to mind when thinking about Jez.

Visit a folk club with floor singers anywhere in Britain and the chances are you’ll hear a Jez Lowe song. His material has been covered by such luminaries as Fairport Convention, The Dubliners, The Tanahill Weavers, Bob Fox and many more. In 1997 when record label Castle Communications issued New Electric Muse - a six CD set overview of the contemporary folk scene featuring the cream of the UK’s songwriters and performers – Jez and his haunting song, Bede Weeps, was included. Whilst those outside of the folk circles may not know who he is, the man and his songs inspire admiration and respect around the world. Ex-Fairport Convention singer/ guitarist and folk legend in his own right, Richard Thompson describes Lowe as ‘the best songwriter to come out of England in a long time’

No-one is more surprised than Jez himself. “There was even a Jez Lowe night in Kentucky where local musicians and folksingers had an evening singing my songs. I don't know how it happened, I've never been there in my life. I just got a flyer in the post announcing the event. It's the power of song, I guess".

Born John Lowe in a coal mining family with Irish roots in Sunderland 1955, his older sister guided his first foray into listening and buying music.” She was six years older and
really shone the torch for me. She was really into The Beatles and The Stones, which I still am. I think the first one I bought was "Please, Please Me" in 1963. The first folk music album that impressed me was Probably The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, which was also '63, but I didn't hear it until much later when I was at grammar school in Hartlepool around ‘67, when one of the lads in my class loaned me that album. It’s basically solo. It's got really good finger picking and banjo tunes, which he never really did much after that, so that turned my head. By the time I heard him, he'd come and gone. He’d been a big star without me knowing what he was, and he was already up in Woodstock being a family man by then".

Whilst at school he began playing music with his mates who had nicknamed him Jez – a name which he’s been known by ever since. Along with Dylan, Fairport Convention and Lindisfarne, it was the blues that really captured his imagination. “I got interested in people like John Mayall, Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee, Big Bill Broonzy. When I was learning the guitar while I was at school, the blues style was a good crunchy style to get your hands round. A lot of old folk songs had been taken by black singers in America and turned into blues songs. So it was fascinating to see the links - old Scottish ballads would turn up in twelve bar form across the Atlantic.”

Whilst maintaining his interest in music, Lowe went to teacher training college in Sunderland in 1974 specialising in teaching languages but with no jobs to be had at the time he drifted around Scotland and Ireland where he undertook his unofficial folk music apprenticeship. “I got involved in all the traditional music, the instrumental stuff, the jigs and reels thing that was starting to come through - the first Celtic explosion was happening then. I eventually came back to the North East and just did odd jobs. I worked in a Youth Opportunity Course, where you'd get a job for three months and then eventually, I found I could get enough gigs to keep me going.”

Turning professional around 1979 saw Lowe working the numerous folk clubs that existed in the north east - a period he recalls with some fondness "I used to play guitar with Ged Foley, and we could go out every night of the weeks and we did Darlington, Durham. We were based in Sunderland in the mid 70s and never had to go out of the area. It was a very thriving scene, but very disparate. Nobody in Darlington would particularly know anybody from Newcastle and we would be moving from one to the other. There was the Red Lion at Trimdon village, which was going until recently, and was the first place I had a residency. I used to be there every week. The Durham folk club was called The Salutation, I think, The Bridge at Newcastle was going back then, and in Sunderland there was The Glebe, a theatre down there, which I think is now called The Royalty. People would be queuing out of the door at 7 o'clock on a Wednesday night to get into The Glebe, and the other major one was The Nursery Folk Club in Hartlepool, where they had a jazz club, a folk club and a poetry club going in the Nursery pub. There were nine folk clubs in Sunderland when I was at college there in 1974, and I don't think there’s one now."

On stage he always sports a striped T-shirt or jumper – so much so that it’s become a visual trademark, as much a part of the Jez Lowe brand as his material. “There was a guy around at the time called Peter Bellamy, who sadly is no longer with us, but he was a big influence on everyone in the folk scene. He was with a group called The Young Tradition back in the Sixties, and Peter decided I needed an image. He was big on image, which wasn't as big a thing in folk music as it is now - the folk thing was more that you performed in the clothes you arrived in. He, at the time, was dressed in a pink suit, and he dyed his blonde hair pink, so he was pretty strong on image.

He was a big blues and Rolling Stones fan who played traditional tunes on his concertina. He decided I needed an image, and I was wearing a stripy T shirt at the time, and he said ‘If you always wear the stripes, people will remember you’. It was just as a joke really but this got round locally, and whenever I played after that, people in the audience would turn up at my gigs wearing these stripy T shirts, and that¹s how it has continued - another embarrassing relic of my youth.”

Though he had always composed his own songs from the very beginning of his career, he immersed himself in playing the regions traditional material taking strength from the depth of what was available, building his confidence in his own abilities as a writer. “That was the point that the door opened for me. There is an unbroken tradition of song writers going back years, people like Tommy Armstrong, Joe Wilson, George Ridley right up to Alan Hull, Sting, Johnny Handle. So there was a unique tradition to this area, certainly within England. So I cottoned on to the tradition style and used what had gone before me.”

Having spent around ten years playing traditional material, as someone who has always used the physical and social landscape of the region as inspiration, it was inevitable that the miner’s strike of 1984/85 would have a major impact on Lowe’s approach. “I gradually got back into song writing because of the strike. It was a political thing that galvanised me and a lot of other people to leave the old timey songs behind and start writing our own material, much the same as the civil rights movement of the 1960s had stirred people like Dylan and Pete Seeger to get into song writing at that time.

A lot of people on the folk scene around the country suddenly started writing songs, not just about the miner's strike, but that whole Thatcher time, so that's when I got back into it. I don't know what happened, but once I recognised that I had the ability, the knack, writing became a major part of what I do. Living in East Durham and seeing how people started to struggle, I was looking for songs that would fit in with what was happening. The best way to get songs was to make them up your self. Luckily, I found that if I wrote songs and sung them around the folk clubs, not just in the North East but all over the country, people understood what I was saying.”

Though being firmly politically committed, part of his success has stemmed from his unwillingness to use his music as a soapbox from which to harangue the audience. “I try to understate; the worst thing is people preaching, telling them what they should think and what they shouldn't think. It's important not to underestimate the intelligence of the audience as the listener will think and make their own minds up. If it changes minds, it’s great; if it doesn't, it’s hopefully still a singable tune. We do a lot of work in America, Australia and New Zealand, and the strange thing is that when we get there, my songs have got there before me, it¹s a kind of aural tradition. When I first went to Australia, they didn't know who I was, but they knew my songs. It was really strange. It's amazing that songs about communities in East Durham have been universally accepted”

With over 14 albums since his first solo release in 1980 Jez, whilst recognising folk music’s custom and practice, he’s always taken a pragmatic approach to his writing, wary of being typecast into a particular role. “Folk music is a beast of many heads; to talk about folk music is almost the same as using the term pop music. It¹s meaningless because there are so many different styles, approaches and attitudes; Folk music is the same, you can't pigeonhole it, making it very black and white. The people who are involved with folk music have very wide tastes, many are also interested in jazz and blues and are usually very open minded, not the stereotype that you get from the media.”

Meeting Cornish guitarist Jake Walton was an important step in Lowe’s musical development. Best known these days for his work playing the hurdy gurdy, Walton had been inspired by Donovan’s 1965 album, Sunshine Superman but his musical ambitions stretched beyond the mainstream. “I met him in London. He had a lot of interest in Eastern European music in particular. We worked together for five to six years, which stretched me a lot both taste-wise and musically.” Lowe and Walton recorded an album called Two a Roue in 1986 which now changes hands on the collectors vinyl market for large sums of money.

Although he still works as a solo performer, he is most often seen in the company of his band, The Bad Pennies. Formed in 1990 and warmly praised by Time Out for their “acoustic simplicity coupled with electric vitality“, they came into being when Lowe was recording a live album. “Usually I recorded solo, but I formed the band to provide a bit more noise for it, and we needed a name in a hurry. I had a solo album titled Bad Penny in 1980, and I liked the sound of Jez Lowe & The Bad Pennies. It was a bit corny, like a 1960s rhythm & blues type band and I didn't think the band would last, but once it became a name, that was it, and I've used it ever since.”

Unlike many backing groups, The Bad Pennies are a real unit and though line-ups have changed over the years the group have forged their own sound. “I’ve never gone just for session players, they've all been people who perform in their own right and they bring a certain attitude to the band which makes it better for me as a singer/songwriter, having these people who know what it¹s like themselves to perform solo and that works better than session musicians. It used to be that the solo thing was the main thing, purely for financial reasons, but the way it's going now, the band is the main thing and solo is just secondary, but the ideal thing is having them both. The band costs a lot more to book, but it's a lot more to run. The way we run it is that I own
the transport and I own the sound system, so a lot of money goes into it. But it's a lot of fun; playing live is my big thing, which I really enjoy, and to play with other musicians is very important.”

Having control over his own recordings is also important to Lowe. Having worked with Cumbria’s Fellside Records and the American-owned Celtic specialists Green Linnet, Jez wanted to have a more hands on approach to the publishing and distribution end of the business. With lawyer, Andy Smyser, Tantobie (named after his father’s village in County Durham) was run by Symser from her office in Los Angeles benefiting Jez with cheaper production costs and extending his international presence. However, after several years with Smyser now moving, on the running of the label has returned to return to the UK.

The critical plaudits at home continue to roll in with each successive album release. BBC Radio 2’s Folk programme described Lowe’s 2004 CD, Doolally in glowing terms. ‘…a superbly realised album, a basic humanity and wisdom (oh, and modesty too) shine through and these are cogent statements that will stand the test of time'. Claiming that it revealed him to be ‘a peerless melodist and a songwriter of panoramic originality’ Lowe once again drew upon on local themes that translate to the wider world.

The second track, Donnini Doolally tells the tale of Dennis Donnini, part of an Italian family who are still in Easington, and had an ice cream shop, a sweet shop, in the High Street. “Dennis was the brother and he was the youngest British soldier to get a Victoria Cross in World War II, and while he was doing that, his father and other member of his family were actually interned as being undesirable aliens. Whenever we play that song, especially when we're in Scotland, for some reason I think a lot of Italian people were sent to the North of Scotland and settled there - we keep getting people coming up to me and saying their father had the same problem with internment.”

The musical heritage of the North East is never far from the surface in Jez’s work. He recalls his parents singing the songs of Tommy Armstrong though doubts they knew anything about the origins of the songs they themselves had sung as children. “It wasn't until years later that I sussed where these songs came from. Tommy Armstrong was a coal miner, boozer and a bit of a character living at the end of the 1800s in West Durham. He wrote protest songs, songs about strikes and songs about social conditions. Certainly in folk clubs today all over the world you hear Tommy Armstrong songs sung. So a few years back I came up with a song called Armstrong's Army, which is a salute to capture the Tommy Armstrong spirit and give people confidence in themselves.

Citing Cecil Sharp as more of a direct influence upon his work than Armstrong, Lowe nevertheless acknowledges the debt that many performers not just in folk music owe Armstrong’s legacy. “When I got into the folk scene, around the folk clubs these songs were like currency by the time I got involved. He set a kind of benchmark really for a lot of us that came afterwards in terms of politics and I think Ewan MacColl or somebody called him the father of modern protest.

The people in the North East are very aware of the musical tradition. If you listen to Sting's music, you can hear traces, some stronger than others, of Geordie/Northumbrian music. Mark Knopfler similarly, and even back to The Animals, the same grittiness is there. You wouldn't find it in many other places in England, but you would find it in Scotland and Ireland. Tyneside and Durham are pretty unique in that regard. There was a whole spectrum of it; a lot of Irish stuff, because there's a lot of Irish influence here, a lot of the pit songs by people like Tommy Armstrong and the Elliotts of Birtley, Johnny Handle's stuff that he wrote in the 50s and 60s.”

Having become the north east’s unofficial composer in residence Lowe is understandably proud when his songs travel and others record his work. “Going back to when I was at school the early Fairport with Sandy Denny was big head-turning thing. It was really a great kick for me to learn that they were going to sing one of my songs after being such a big fan of theirs."

The association has continued with Jez and The Bad Pennies making an appearance at the annual Fairport Convention Reunion festival at Cropreddy in 2004. With many studio albums under his belt, working on stage is Lowe’s preferred medium and having recently notched up his half century, Jez has no plans on retiring. Though his love of touring has cost him dearly in terms of his personal life, he wouldn’t ever consider giving it up joking that he’d be happy to die on stage playing his songs. Though several albums are no longer available playing live means the material can always be revisited and refreshed.

For Jez Lowe working on stage either as a solo artist or with The Bad Pennies is the best way of revisiting and refreshing his impressive back catalogue of material. “I tend to try and go over them as I go along, and you can always tell when they've passed their sell by date, because it just doesn't feel right somehow, so I just leave those behind. But it’s actually a lot of fun with the band, because we try to rearrange them just to dig back and listen to the earlier stuff from fifteen years ago. I’m trying to view everything I’ve done as a body of work rather than individual bits, something with a bit of integrity representing the North East, and not sounding nostalgic or dated, keeping some momentum in it.”

Testing For Buzz XXXIII 1968 And All That IX

Neal Cassady
February 8^th 1926 – February 4^th 1968

"The evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty."

Jack Kerouac On The Road

Bruford And Borstlap In Two Minds

Great Minds Don’t Think Alike

In Two Minds
Bill Bruford & Michiel Borstlap
Summerfold

I would imagine that if you loaded up this album onto your mp3 player it would tell you that the music playing was jazz. Yet those four little letters barely describes the distance which Bill Bruford and Michiel Borstlap have covered since beginning their extended and fruitful musical conversation back in 2003.

Their discursive improvisations don’t easily respect obvious stylistic boundaries although they never lose sight of groove or melody. With either player likely to take the initiative in steering the feel or shape of the music, their concerts have an encyclopaedic, expansive intensity.

The folky reverie of “Kinship”, the wry funk of the Rhodes-dominated “Flirt”, and even the Count Basie-like lines of the title track, showcase an exuberant self-confidence that has them equally at ease in the abstract textures of “Conference of Bees” or a relaxed stroll through Miles Davis’ “All Blues”.

Borstlap is a constant revelation whose lyrical warmth is never far from the surface. Exemplary electronics has him soaring off into the Weather Report-like stratosphere on “From The Source We Tumble Headlong”, with Bruford’s simmering kit work reminding us as to why the drummer is so well respected in both fusion and rock circles.

On tracks such as the Monk-ish “Duplicity” or “Sheer Reckless Abandon” there’s an infectious joy and inquisitiveness percolating throughout the dialogue between the pair. Elsewhere, if somebody were to take the trouble of notating “Low Tide, Camber Sands” you’d have a cast-iron classic ballad to add to the cannon of slow-burning greats of the repertoire.

This latest release cannily culls moments and movements from live work undertaken in 2006 and 2007, and although the audience reactions are missing from the final edit of these vignettes, In Two Minds is nevertheless a powerful testimony to what the apparently simple act of putting two players in front of a crowd of enthusiastic well-wishers can achieve.

Beckoned To Birmingham

Birmingham

Debbie and I slipped out of Newcastle late afternoon en route to Birmingham just as the snow was beginning to lash the north east yesterday.

Given the screwed-up nature of our transport system in the UK, I was fully expecting a) the train to be cancelled because of snow on the line, b) the train to be severely delayed because of snow on the line, or a combination of both though not necessarily in that order. Such cynicism was unwarranted and we arrived safely and only a few minutes late into the architectural wonder that is New Street Station.

We were the guests of chums Neil and Halina, and we raced over to Bearwood to catch up on the news. It’s been ages since I’ve seen them and they looked and sounded in fine spirits.

Today, whilst N&H attend to domestic matters, Debra and I have a punishing schedule of looking in book stores, jewellery shops (specifically Smithsonia in the lovely Piccadilly arcade), Swordfish CDs in Temple Street, and finally a visit to the cinema at Five Ways to see either In The Valley of Elah or No Country Of Old Men. After that it’ll be back to N&H’s to enjoy a lovely meal with the incomparable Hatton, an old chum of theirs. It's a hard life!

Nominations For God XXVI

Paul Auster