B-Sides That Leave You Without Words

I haven't updated the blog for a few days because I'm working on a countdown that has proven to be more time consuming than I expected. If you're a regular reader, you may know I don't look back on the '90s with much love. Many of my favorite bands from my youth were calling it quits, and movements like grunge and Britpop, for the most part, weren't doing it for me. Living in the relative isolation of rural Japan for a couple of years before the Internet age, followed by five years at a demanding job, contributed to my musical malaise. A couple of weeks ago I had a post about the High Llamas that really got me thinking about the music that found its way to me during that lost decade. So, I began compiling a list of favorite tracks. Surprisingly, even with self-imposed rules like one track per artist, before I knew it I had about 150 candidates. That's too many. So, I'm in the process of whittling it down to 90 or 100 songs, and I hope to have it ready next week... warts and all. Seems it will have quite a different feel than the '80s UK indie hits list I launched about this time a year ago.

In the meantime, I'm still on my Terry Hall kick. Here are a couple of very loosely related B-sides from an era I enjoy much more than the '90s. In their early days, Hall saw something in Bananarama, and he invited the trio to work on the Fun Boy Three's "T'ain't What You Do (It's the Way That You Do It)." FB3 returned the favor a year later on Bananarama's "Really Saying Something." Both were big hits. "Give Us Back Our Cheap Fares" is the flip side to "Really Saying Something." The instrumental was written by Bananarama and Vaughan Toulouse of Department S. To these ears, it sounds like it would have made a fine B-side to the Specials' "Ghost Town." Of course, with "Why?" and "Friday Night, Saturday Morning" on the 12" of "Ghost Town," I don't think any of us are complaining.

Now let's go back to the record that started it all for the 2 Tone label. In 1979, the Specials (called the Special AKA at that moment) split a 7" with the Selecter. The unforgettable "Gangsters" was on one side, and the instrumental "The Selecter," by Neol Davies and drummer John Bradbury of the Specials, was on the other. In case you're wondering about the timeline, Pauline Black would join Davies' band a few months after the release of this single. I'm not sure where this song stands among the 2 Tone faithful, but I have always loved it. Unlike "Cheap Fares," no scratchy record this time. I'm taking it from the excellent 1993 two-disc set 'The 2 Tone Collection: A Checkered Past.'

Give Us Back Our Cheap Fares
The Selecter

Lloyd Cole Still My Bag

Finally. After 30 years as a fan, I saw Lloyd Cole for the first time last night. I had never been to the famed Triple Door in Seattle, and it's not the way I'm used to seeing a show. As a bemused Cole said early in the set, this is not indie. It's a supper club, really, with cozy candle-lit tables, first-class service and pan-Asian cuisine from Wild Ginger upstairs. It worked for me because this was an intimate solo show.

And when I say "solo," I mean he was completely on his own. Cole told us he was his own opening act. He would then take a short break and return as the headliner. Between songs he tuned his own guitar. Cole intimated he could probably employ a kid to stand behind the curtain, waiting with a freshly tuned instrument, and it would be far sexier, but then he would have to eat dinner with him. When a woman shouted that he was sexy now, he stopped in his tracks, shook his head in bewilderment and said, "You're drunk." He paused for just the right amount of time and followed with, "And I thank you." To call Cole's banter between songs charming is a gross understatement. We were putty in his hands.

For us old-timers, the setlist couldn't have been better. There were a slew of singles from his days with the Commotions, including "Perfect Skin," "Are You Ready to Be Heartbroken?" "Forest Fire," "Rattlesnakes" and "My Bag." He was in perfect voice. I'm going to sound like a marketing flack, but I enjoyed the songs from his latest, "Standards," just as much. My No. 7 album of 2013 was finally released here in America late last year, and it should be required listening. In keeping with this solo theme, after the show, Cole sold his own CDs and promised to sign anything... inanimate. He cheekily added that for those of us who bought the import the sleeve of the U.S. release was just a teeeeeny bit different. I didn't bite.

Just a little bit more about the setting and audience. I'm sure it's just me getting old, but I could get used to sitting at a show. There were no elbows jabbing my belly. No bodies flew over my head. I didn't have some dope yelling to his friend about the hot girl at the bar... right into my ear. In fact, there was very little talking. Cole's fans actually listened. And very few held up their phones to record the moment. I would love to know what he thought about the experience. At one point Cole told a woman if she ordered the dessert he would glare at her. It reminded me of Lennon telling the Queen's audience to rattle their jewelry. It was all so civilized... and worth the 30-year wait.

You know you have been to a good show when you get home and pull out all of that artist's old records. It was an early show but a late night. Here's an extended version from the 'Mainstream' era I enjoyed in the wee hours.

My Bag (Dancing Mix)

Alvvays a Good Time in Nottingham

Once again, Nottingham correspondent MisterPrime is right in my wheelhouse. The band behind my No. 8 album of 2014 has just played his hometown. Alvvays will be knocking around Europe for a couple of more weeks before a triumphant North American homecoming opening for the Decemberists. Is it time to get tickets? Let's find out...

Alvvays
The Bodega
Nottingham, 26th January 2015

I've not been a regular at Nottingham's Bodega, despite, or possibly because of, the fact that it's apparently something of a hip young venue these days. I saw an incendiary performance there last year from Savages, but before that I don't think I'd been since it was still called The Social, when bands played with the front bay window as a backdrop (I don't think I'm making this up now), and I saw a very lacklustre show from the newly reformed Wire somewhere around the turn of the millennium.

Anyway, it's still pokey and a funny shape, so I can't imagine you can see much if you get stuck at the back, but it's not too hot, and the sound quality is really very good. Plus, despite it being a sell-out show, there was none of the lairy barging and beeriness of the following night's capacity crowd for the Sleaford Mods at the somewhat larger Rescue Rooms. This was more the kind of slightly polite and clean-cut group of youngish indie-kids that you'd expect given the unfeasibly fresh-faced band up on the stage. That said, Alvvays made full use of that decent-quality sound, playing their brand of dream-pop with a bracing twin-guitar attack and suitably chunky drum-thump that rendered everything much cleaner and sharper than the slightly muddy production on their debut album might lead you to expect. It's a confident performance, too, cheerfully chucking in ace card "Archie, Marry Me" early on in the set, ending on a new song and encoring with a well-judged cover of the Primitives' "Out Of Reach."

The jangly punk-pop of the faster numbers and singer Molly Rankin's touristy asides (she wanted the audience to recommend the best English chocolate bars and let her know if the Trip To Jerusalem pub was worth a visit) created a nice contrast with some of the more yearning ballads. "You guys seem to like the slow ones," she said as the band launched into "Ones Who Love You" with a Spectorish intensity, the soulful depths of the vocals in particular suggesting Lana del Rey tackling indie torch songs. For a "new" group, this was a good solid hour of entertainment and suggests that still better things are to come from this particular addition to the list of bands I'm gonna have to love despite their annoying names!

Lastly, as an aside, I'd like to apologise to Molly for the overly-literal nature of the audience in Nottingham: Despite a chorus of dissenting voices to her assertion that the Primitives song was "a hometown hit" that seemed to throw the singer slightly, I'd say it's probably fair enough to class the 50 miles between Nottingham and Coventry as pretty "local" -- particularly if you happen to be from a country as big as Canada.

A Bunch of Stiffs

Short and sweet tonight as it's quite late. The theme is Stiff artists covering Stiff artists. The first two are taken from the 2001 album 'Brand New Boots and Panties: A Tribute to Ian Dury.' That's actually the Blockheads backing Wreckless Eric. The next two songs appear on the 2001 album 'Labour of Love: The Music of Nick Lowe.' As tribute collections go, both of these records are better than most.

I'm sure the last two originals need no introduction, but they are by Madness and Kirsty MacColl, respectively. You can find these covers on Tracey Ullman's 'Takes on the Hits.' I doubt many of you regulars care much for Ullman, but I think her version of "They Don't Know" is a perfect pop song that does the original justice. I would apologize for repeating these Ullman songs -- they were part of a 2009 post -- but I'm quite confident I was an audience of one in those days.

Madness - My Old Man
Wreckless Eric - Clevor Trever
Graham Parker - The Rose of England
Elvis Costello - Egypt
Tracey Ullman - My Guy
Tracey Ullman - They Don't Know

Oh, what the heck. Who needs sleep? Let's do one more. Someone is bound to ask about the one that keeps Lowe in diamonds and furs,
"(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding," but I didn't include it because it seems so obvious. Let's turn the table and go with Lowe covering Elvis Costello instead. This one is from his 1985 album 'The Rose of England.' That is all.

Nick Lowe and His Cowboy Outfit - Indoor Fireworks

Curtain Call: The Colour Field

Here's some more mid-'80s music from the stage to follow up that live beauty from the Housemartins the other day. Terry Hall would most certainly make my all-time top 10 favorite musicians. From the Specials to the Fun Boy Three to the Colour Field, he's really never had a stumble. Even Vegas and his solo albums deserve more than a passing mention. Today we're going to hear a couple taken from the North American self-titled six-song mini LP, released in 1986. These little samplers were quite popular on this side of the pond in the '80s. For example, I believe many American fans of the Jam will remember a 1981 five-song self-titled EP that featured "Absolute Beginners," but I digress. For those fans of the Colour Field in the UK, you might have the following live songs on the flip side of your "Things Could Be Beautiful" 12" from 1985.

Unfortunately, the date of the show, recorded at the Hammersmith Palais, has been omitted from the cover (I hate that!), but I believe this was recorded by Capital Radio on June 24, 1985. If that's the case, this night was a memorable one, as this was when opening act the Loft imploded and called it quits right there on stage in front of 3,000 witnesses. If you're interested, I had a post about that a couple of years ago. If I'm incorrect about the date of this recording -- it's certainly possible the Colour Field played there another time that year -- please let me know.

Anyway, let's get to the music. The studio versions of these songs are from the lovely 'Virgins and Philistines' era. "Pushing Up the Daisies" was the B-side to the "Take" single, and "Yours Sincerely" is a deep cut from the album. They illustrate the two sides of the band, really. One is quite raucous, while the other is "beautiful," as Hall describes it in his on-stage introduction.

Pushing Up the Daisies (Live)
Yours Sincerely (Live)

Last Hurrah for the Housemartins

The self-proclaimed fourth-best band in Hull came and went in what seemed a heartbeat, but they left behind some of the best jangle pop ever produced. Tonight, quite randomly, I have pulled out the 12" of the Housemartins ninth and final single. No, this is not the oft-covered Burt Bacharach and Hal David song made very famous in 1983 by Naked Eyes. Rather, this is the Paul Heaton and Stan Cullimore composition made somewhat less famous in 1988, peaking at No. 35 on the UK singles chart. Although it's pleasant enough, this is not my favorite from an otherwise flawless discography. In fact, the real reason I wanted this piece of vinyl was for the other songs that appear on it.

In addition to the single, there are three songs recorded live from Nottingham Royal Centre for the BBC's "In Concert" program, circa Sept. 30, 1987. The following songs are from the A-side. The 'London 0 Hull 4' goody "Get Up Off Our Knees" is performed with gusto and becomes a singalong for the pack of passionate fans. In case you're curious, the B-sides are "Five Get Over Excited" and "Johannesburg," which I'll post at some point. The studio versions of those songs can be found on the sophomore (and slightly underappreciated) album 'The People Who Grinned Themselves to Death.'

There is Always Something There to Remind Me
Get Up Off Our Knees (Live)

Thirty-Two Years Before Teen Canteen...

Several of my favorite bloggers have fallen under the spell of Teen Canteen, a new band out of Glasgow. I, too, haven't been immune to their charms. I have especially enjoyed my peers conjuring up comparisons to Altered Images, a popular Scottish band from my youth. A peek at my records illustrates I was (and still am) a pretty big fan. I have the three albums and seven of Altered Images' 11 singles. Not bad, but certainly not on the level of JC from The (New) Vinyl Villain. A few years ago, I had the pleasure of spending the day with him. We talked a lot about Scottish music. Eventually, long after soliloquies about Roddy and Edwyn, the discussion came around to Clare Grogan and the lads. Now, we didn't know each other well. I have a feeling we were both worried any enthusiastic displays for light-weight hit-making pop could be followed by a long awkward silence. Thankfully, JC went first. "You know, I have every one of their singles," JC said sheepishly. It was one of my favorite moments of the day.

If you're a fan, then you probably already have the LPs 'Happy Birthday,' 'Pinky Blue' and 'Bite.' Today's offerings are off the board a bit... although I do recall all of these albums being reissued with bonus tracks about 10 years ago. So, perhaps these songs are easy to find these days. "Surprise Me" is a B-side from the "Bring Me Closer" 7" and extended 12" single. "Bring Me Closer" was the second single of the 'Bite' era, and it was clear from the album and single art that the band was going for a glossier and more mature look and sound. We could argue about whether they pulled it off, but "Surprise Me" hearkened back to an earlier era for the band, and it's one of my favorites of the B-sides. Perhaps it was a 'Pinky Blue' leftover. "Little Town Flirt" is a cover made famous by Del Shannon in 1962. Altered Images' version comes from the soundtrack to the 1983 movie 'Party Party.' Much like 'That Summer,' my favorite soundtrack of all time, I have had this soundtrack for more than 30 years. Oddly, I have never seen either one of the films.

Time to go order that Teen Canteen single.

Surprise Me
Little Town Flirt

By George! Here's the High Llamas

George is Mr. Relevant today. The chap behind Jim McLean's Rabbit inspired Drew's post at Across the Kitchen Table, and he got me to clear the cobwebs from a section of my record collection too. Last week, his mention of Fatima Mansions instantly got me thinking about another Microdisney offshoot, the High Llamas.

I discovered Sean O'Hagan's band in 1996 with the release of 'Hawaii.' This was an incredibly busy period in my life. I had recently moved to Washington, D.C., and work seemed to suck every ounce of energy out of me. There wasn't much time for music, and I lost touch with the entire scene for a few years. I should probably add that I didn't really mind. I found (and still find) it to be a dismal era. I hated nearly everything I heard. Belle and Sebastian, Komeda and the Sugarplastic are a few bright spots that come to mind, but I really reverted to the music I had listened to when I raided my mother's records at age 10... stuff like the Kinks, the Zombies and, especially, the Beach Boys. In 1996, I found a well-done bootleg of 'SMiLE' at a wonderful hole-in-the-wall shop in New York called Midnight Records. I attempted to sound in the know with an employee that seemed to be a fellow follower of Brian Wilson. I asked if he knew about Wondermints, an up-and-coming L.A. band that was influenced by the Beach Boys. He countered with the High Llamas. They were a complete mystery to me... for a few minutes, anyway. I picked up 'Hawaii' as soon as I got back to D.C., and so began a love affair that has spanned about a dozen albums.

It's one thing to be influenced, but this is derivative, critics of the High Llamas opine. There is a lot of Wilson there, to be sure. More so on 'Hawaii' than on the band's other albums. I especially hear the 'Pet Sounds'-era instrumentals "Trombone Dixie" and "Let's Go Away For Awhile," the banjo-heavy "Cabinessence" from 'SMiLE' and the meandering bossa nova of "Busy Doin' Nothin'" from 'Friends.' The thing is, there is so much more than just the Wilson aesthetic, and that's why I argue it's not derivative. You can pick out the electronic sounds of Stereolab and the easy pop of Burt Bacharach, among others. In later albums, like 'Beet, Maize & Corn,' O'Hagan goes downright baroque. I remember when Pitchfork reviewed it (Wow, has it been 12 years already?) they said it could have been played faithfully in 1850. That doesn't sound like a carbon copy of the Beach Boys to me. A singles band they are not. The albums should be heard as a whole to be truly appreciated, but here's a little taste for George and the rest who may be new to the High Llamas.

Sparkle Up and Ill-Fitting Suits (from 'Hawaii')
The Click and the Fizz (from 'Beet, Maize & Corn')

Catching Up With Some Blogging Buddies

Quite a few of my fellow bloggers post pieces of music that inspire me with my own posts or -- at least -- remind me of something from my own collection. Today's selections are really just concluding conversations I have had with bloggers via their comments sections or by email. Hopefully all of you, not just my blogging buddies, will find something you like here, too.

This first one goes to Scott at Spools Paradise. A couple of weeks ago he featured organ aficionado Shirley Scott. I'm a fan or her work, but I must admit I only have a few of of her albums. Then again, who could have them all? Just between 1958 and 1968 she released more than 30 of them. My favorite of the ones I have is 'For Members Only,' from 1963, but I wanted Scott to hear a song from the 1964 album 'Great Scott!' There are a lot of Scotts going on here, eh? Sorry about that.

"The Blues Ain't Nothin' But Some Pain" came about while messing around on the organ as she waited for her trio to gather in the studio. She was singing to herself, and the tune caught the ear of producer Bob Thiele. When he asked Shirley about it, he discovered this was an original composition with, yes, lyrics. He asked her to record it. After much coaxing, she relented. So, this is the first time we ever hear Shirley Scott sing on a record. As you would expect, her delivery is timid and vulnerable, but it works perfectly for this slow burner.

The Blues Ain't Nothin' But Some Pain

Switching gears, I have two selections for CC over at Charity Chic Music. Way back in September, while reading Tracey Thorn's 'Bedsit Disco Queen,' CC wondered about Thorn's early band the Marine Girls. I tried to leave him a message about the all-girl group, but for some reason my comment wouldn't stick. Well, time passed, and I forgot about getting in touch with him. I'm reading Thorn's book now (and what a read so far!), and I happen to be in the midst of the section on the Marine Girls. It jogged my memory about CC's request to his readers for some Marine Girls.

I have a few go-to songs from the band, but "Honey" has always been my all-time favorite. You can find it on the 1981 album 'Beach Party.' The songs are lo-fi affairs I find simple yet utterly charming. Now, I'm not going to claim I go quite this far back with Thorn. Thankfully, Cherry Red reissued 'Beach Party' and followup 'Lazy Ways' on one disc back in 1997, and it's been in print ever since. If you aren't a fan of Thorn's yet, don't start here. For the rest of you, however, I think this material will amount to more than just a curiosity.

Honey

Just the other day CC was singing the praises of 'Break Out,' the latest from Chris Devotion and the Expectations. I was excited to read this, as I had completely missed the news of this release. Scott from Spools Paradise commented to CC the Devotion song "wouldn't sound out of place on a mix CD with a bit of Joe Jackson, a bit of The Knack, a bit of Squeeze etc..." When I hyped their album 'Amalgamation and Devotion' on my best of the year list in 2012 I wrote: "The first time I listened to this album out of Glasgow I would have sworn this was a front for an Any Trouble reunion." I always felt Any Trouble's debut album, 'Where Are All the Nice Girls?' sounded a bit like early Joe Jackson. Sounds like Scott and I are on the same page. So, CC, until you find Any Trouble at your local charity shop, and you're bound to, here's Any Trouble's first single.

Yesterday's Love

I didn't quite get to everyone I wanted to catch up with today. So, next time I'll try to convince George from Jim McLean's Rabbit that an old favorite of mine is worth adding to his music room.

No Duds From the Fireworks

This is so cool. I had no idea the Shop Assistants were recording again. What? It's not them?!? Oh, then surely "Runaround" is a bonus track unearthed for a reissue of Chin Chin's 'Under the Westway.' Really? Strike two? Well, I thought I knew most of these wonderful fuzz-drenched bands from the mid-'80s, but the Fireworks are a nice discovery nonetheless... even if it took me 30 years to fall under their spell. Wait a minute. This press release I'm reading claims the song is from the band's debut album, 'Switch Me On,' out Feb. 10 from Shelflife Records.

Ah, a bright spot in an otherwise dismal week of news that had me weeping for the future.

Nearly all of the 13 tracks that make up 'Switch Me On' are frenetic reverb-filled racers with nary a dud in the lot. You won't be able to stop stomping the floor. When they do turn it down a bit, however, particularly on "Let You Know," we are rewarded with jangly pop that wouldn't be out of place on a split single with Razorcuts during the Subway days. I hope the band isn't afraid to keep that pace in mind a little more when they follow up this brilliant piece of work. Well done, Fireworks.



Listen to the Fireworks' single "On and On" here.

Crossing Off the Bureau

I make lists. Obsessively. In fact, I document my hunt for records with two separate lists. One list has the records I can realistically acquire by walking into my local mom-and-pop shop. This consists of reissues, new releases and overlooked staples. Some examples on that list right now are 'Underwater Moonlight' from the Soft Boys and 'Adventure' from Television. The turnover on this list is constant.

My other list is chock full of relatively rare records... most of which have been on there for years. I may only find one or two of these pieces per year. In moments of desperation, I have resorted to buying from a Discogs or an eBay to satisfy uncontrollable cravings. I don't really like to play that way because I love the euphoric feeling of finding these gems in the bins, but sometimes I can't help myself. Examples on this list right now are the singles "Pristine Christine" from the Sea Urchins, "Falling and Laughing" from Orange Juice, and the 12" of "Window Shopping" from the Friday Club. I only know a couple of shops in America that could possibly have any of the records on this list, and I get to these places only on rare occasions.

I didn't really realize Mrs. Linear Tracking Lives even knew about my lists, but she photocopied my "rare" list and took it with her to Chicago while out on business at the beginning of December. She stopped by one of my two favorite shops in the whole of this country and managed to cull the bins for a few of my wants. She placed them under the tissue paper inside of a box that seemed to have nothing but pajamas... which I opened Christmas morning. Quite cheeky.

So, that's how I acquired today's selection. As a huge fan of Dexys and the Style Council, the Bureau's 1981 album has been a want for a long time. If you don't know about the band, read up here. Surprisingly, it seems the LP was only released in Canada and Australia. For those in the UK, however, you may remember the 7" singles "Only For Sheep" and "Let Him Have It." These were not on my list. As you can see from the photo above, however, I'll be damned if my lovely lady didn't pick up those as well. So, it feels strange, but the Bureau have been removed from a list that rarely has a chance to contract. Get ready for some fine horns...

Only For Sheep

Brighten the New Year With a Little Shine!

Cloudberry has quite a track record of unearthing obscure music from the golden age of jangle pop, and the Astoria, N.Y.-based label has done it again. Did you miss Shine! the first time around? I know I did, but you might have a faint memory of seeing the Norwich-area band supporting the likes of My Bloody Valentine, Darling Buds, Inspiral Carpets, McCarthy or the Wolfhounds back in the day. You may have heard them on Peel, too. There were appearances on a couple of compilations, a flexi, a split 12" and two tapes (with only a handful of copies made), and that's more or less the entire Shine! discography. Cloudberry has just gathered the lot and released it as a 21-song CD digipak. Based on the strength of the following two songs, as well as comparisons to the classic lineup of the Wedding Present, this will be my first purchase of 2015. Here is the ordering info, as well as an
in-depth interview Cloudberry did with the lads. Great fun.

Shine! - Bite the Apple