Never ever whisper when it's time to shout

When I reviewed the last Seasick Steve album, I said it worked best ‘when Seasick Steve is left to his own devices’.

It appears I might not have been the only one who felt that way.

On his fourth record Steve has gone back to basics. Where ‘I Started Out With Nothing’ suffered from an overloaded cast of, well, several, his latest takes quite the opposite tack. ‘Man From Another Time’ strips away the extra personnel, reducing his music back to the bare bones of his voice, guitars and ever trusty drummer Dan. As decisions go, it’s fair to say this hobo has hopped onto the right train. Where the guest appearances seemed slightly forced, out of place and kind of unnecessary, ‘Man From Another Time’ finds Steve sounding far more comfortable in the simplicity of his sound.

That however is probably the only difference between this record and well, any of his others. Chances are, if you haven’t bought into Seasick Steve by now, ‘Man From Another Time’ isn’t going to change your mind. There’s no wild reinvention in sound. His lyrics don’t particularly cover any new ground. And if you see the amiable hobo shtick as nothing more than a corny marketing trick, well, it’s probably best you don’t bother reading any further. But if you’ve fallen under the spell of his previous records or his live show, then you’ll find plenty to enjoy here.

Kicking off with ‘Diddley Bo’, a raucous song telling you how to construct the instrument of it’s title, Seasick Steve delivers twelve songs of boogie blues, rollicking rhythms and tender introspection. Delving deep into his back story, the songs cover the well worn roads of his life. From the incarcerated protagonist dreaming of the day he’s free in the stomping ‘That’s All’, to the hobo that’s just ‘Happy (To Have A Job)’, it seems there’s still plenty of angles for his persona to mine. Seasick Steve’s greatest trick isn’t that he’s sold us this character; it’s that he’s able to continue selling it to us. It may be his fourth record about hobo life, railroad life and prison life but it hasn’t tired yet. He’s the everyman that’s lived the extraordinary life. Sure it’s an exaggerated, romanticised, potentially fabricated life but he presents it with such energy and self deprecation, that you can’t help be entertained. ‘Seasick Boogie’ is pretty self explanatory, a big old dumb riff and drum clatter designed to get your feet moving. ‘Never Go West’ is a rollicking, hollering warning blast, albeit a little tame compared to it’s live incarnation. Only on ‘Big, Green And Yeller’, a tale about buying a John Deere tractor, does the joke misfire and descend into a corny parody. The cartoon writ large.

The best moments however are where the record steps out of character, leaving Steve free to tackle more universal subjects. From the title track’s musings on ageing, to ‘Dark’s pale introspection on death and solitude, to the gentle romance of ‘My Home (Blue Eyes)’ explaining why you don’t have to say those three little words where you’re in love. The emotion and heart in these songs is real, honest and shows that as fun as his well spun stories are, Seasick Steve is more than just a great creation. On these songs, the real Steve comes through. The genuine, engaging bluesman.

Seasick Steve - never go west (live session version) original version available on 'Man From Another Time'

mp3 / music / seasick steve

It's starting to all make sense

Nostalgia has always played a part in the music of Luke Haines.

Scattershot references to the people, places and events that informed his childhood litter his work.

From Auteurs lyrics that detail the minutiae of British ‘culture’, through the explicit use of the Baader Meinhof name, on to the subtle use of imagery such as Lord Lucan in his band’s artwork, the 1970s are nearly always present in one form or another. Although not necessarily in a positive way. Where Ray Davies detailed the quirky aspects of British life and Morrissey glamorises an imagined England that probably never really existed, Luke Haines is far more cynical, barbed and realistic. Maybe an altogether truer embodiment of what it is to be British.

If he ever owned some rose tinted specs, they lost their lustre a long time ago. He doesn’t hark back to a glory time. Never kids himself that the old days were better. Rather, his references deconstruct that very British ideal. They get under the skin of the façade. Offer a sneary dismissal of the minutiae that fills our island. The ridiculous, hypocritical nature of the stiff upper lip. The superiority complex. The little island syndrome. The empty passing fads. The oh-so-important tabloid press and their duplicitous nature. The hush-hush-brush-it-under-the-carpet-hope-it-goes-away mentality. He scratches the itch. Picks away at the scabs. If it’s been built up, he’s more than willing to knock it down. All of which sounds very bleak, pessimistic and not a great deal of fun to listen to.

Thankfully, Luke Haines is in possession of two things that stop him falling into that particular hole. Firstly, that most British of things, the dry wit. While it’s easy to paint him as the one dimensional grouch the way the press regularly does, it’s not an accurate portrayal. There’s an intelligent humour in his writing that often gets missed or misinterpreted. He pokes fun, mocks and highlights absurdities without ever resorting to cruel, unnecessary jibes. The fact that he doesn’t live up to the clichés of rock excess, dumb down or tow the line is, I think, probably the reason for the perception of him as being awkward and an eternal misery. At least that’s how he can come across in the print media. On the few occasions I’ve heard him interviewed he always comes across as a personable, funny and yes, cynical person. He’s also a great songwriter. The second of his saving graces.

Now, if you’ve hung around here for a while, you’ll know I’m a pretty big fan of The Auteurs and indeed, I’ve posted a few bits by a few of his bands trying to get people to listen to what he’s done before. But today, I’m posting something new. An acoustic version of the title track from his new album. More than any song that’s come before it, ‘21st Century Man’ is an honest, straight forward, autobiographical song detailing the events of his life. From his birth to the preset day, it’s the story of his life and how it mixed and mingled with the headlines, politics, people and events of the day. Bowie, Thatcher and the Green Cross Code Man are all name checked as that familiar to some semi whispered voice reflects on where he came from and maybe where he seems himself in the new century. The dawning realisation that his cultural reference points are all in the past finds Luke Haines not exactly happy with his lot, but certainly more aware of his place in the world. ‘I travelled all my life, but never got away’ he once wrote on Black Box Recorder’s ‘England Made Me’. Here he seems to have finally stopped moving, accepting his place as ‘an exile in a foreign land’. Feeling out of touch with the modern world he may be, but on the basis of this song there’s still some life in him yet.

Luke Haines - 21st century man (live session version) original version available on '21st Century Man'

mp3 / music / luke haines

All things have memories

If I had to choose one word to describe the new Idlewild album, I'd go with reliable.

Or maybe dependable.

Two words which, if I was talking about a new car could be deemed as positive. But in the context of an album review? Well that's a different matter. Or at least, I guess it depends on what you want from music. In this case it also depends a little on how you feel about Idlewild. 'Post Electric Blues' is the sound of a band being comfortable in their own skin. Nothing more, nothing less. If you've heard their last two albums then you'll have a pretty good idea of how this one sounds. There are no wild new directions. No side steps into dubstep. No heart stopping anarchic electro punk moments. What you get is a steady mix of mature indie rock with gentle acoustic bits, harder rocking bits, the occasional folky violin thrown in and a couple of questionable key changes. Business as usual in other words. And probably a pretty good explanation of why this record doesn't seem to have picked up much press attention. I mean, who wants to review a record that you've kind of heard before when there are exciting, genre defying, barrier breaking, era defining, ultra hip records to write about?

Well, me for one. Part of that comes from Idlewild being one of those bands that I hold a special place for. Whose music meant a lot to me growing up and who frankly have never let me down. Idlewild are a band I’ve got a lot of time for and so regardless of what, when or how they release their music, I’m pretty sure I’ll always be willing to at least give them a listen. Which so far sounds like the undying loyalty of a blinkered fan unwilling to accept the truth. But trust me, this is more than that. You see, the other reason I’m writing about ‘Post Electric Blues’ is that despite what my words in the opening paragraph may have implied, this album contains some great songs. Sure there may be no great surprises, no massive sonic leap forwards but don’t let that fool you into thinking this is a tired band parodying themselves. Far from it. Over the last few albums Idlewild have grown up. Their music has matured. Mellowed. The edges have been smoothed off but ultimately, the songs are still good. They may have lost some of the youthful abandon that once marked their albums apart but rather that, than some embarrassing half arsed attempt to recapture the sound of their younger selves.

In truth, ‘Post Electric Blues’ finds Idlewild honing their talents, their musicianship and their songwriting. Crafting eleven songs with some of the most striking melodies of their career. Album opener ‘Younger Than America’ is as bold and anthemic as anything the band have recorded before. ‘Readers & Writers’ is their most deliciously obvious attempt at writing a hit single since ‘You Held The World In Your Arms’ and you can’t help but think that recorded by a new band, it would have been all over the radio like a rash. ‘Take Me Back To The Islands’ is a direct link to Roddy’s solo work, a beautiful folk tinged semi-ballad that stakes it place at the heart of this record. And where once the band rattled through their songs with barely a pause for breath, here they close off the record with a blur of songs that, while never moving above mid pace, reward you with a delightful rush of soaring choruses and catchy hooks. ‘Post Electric Blues’ may not set the charts on fire and chances are it won’t win them any new fans, but it’s a solid record from one of the most consistent bands of the last ten years.

Idlewild - city hall (live session version) original version avaialble on 'Post Electric Blues'

Idlewild - readers & writers (live session version) original version avaialble on 'Post Electric Blues'

mp3 / music / idlewild

Morrissey - Birmingham Symphony Hall 23/10/2009

It's seems Guinness are right.

Good things do come to those that wait.

Five months after the show was postponed through illness, Morrissey finally arrives at Symphony Hall. Or as he prefers to dub it, Sympathy Hall. And what a way to make an entrance. Striding confidently on stage as the band launch into a ferocious version of 'This Charming Man', Morrissey appears ready to make up for lost time. The band batter the song into it's now familiar fast choppy punk-lite version while Morrissey sways and whips and teases and feigns and reaches out and pulls back and does everything you want and expect him to do. Only at times, it seems a little forced. As though he is having to push himself. Something seems wrong and throughout the 80 minutes he's on stage, there's a nagging sense that all is not right. He seems restrained. Unable to give his all. He alludes to almost not making it. Makes a throwaway remark about the morphine kicking in. A comment which, at the time felt like one of his typically pithy comments, with hindsight takes on a greater relevance given his collapse onstage the following night. At the time however, it is little more of a nagging sense and to dwell on it would take away from what is essentially a triumphant performance worth waiting for.

The wait, one would imagine, has also informed the set list. Where back in May, you'd have expected it to lean heavily on the just released 'Years Of Refusal', tonight it's a far more varied mix than that and indeed than previous tours. There's no 'Irish Blood, English Heart', no 'Suedehead', replaced instead by less obvious picks. A good pick of recent material sits next to an impressive number of Smiths songs which in turn take equal position alongside tracks from the forthcoming 'Swords' b-sides album. On paper it might look like a somewhat random, disparate collection but in reality it works well, lesser known tracks sounding just as good as those more familiar.

Morrissey meanwhile is his usual playful, mockingly dramatic self. Less chatty than he has been known to be, he is nonetheless as equal parts charming and knowingly awkward as ever, taunting the reaching hands of the crowd with his just out reach presence. He graces the worthy with a few handshakes. Teasingly places a copy of his upcoming release on the floor inches from stretched out arms, eventually deeming one crowd member worthy of it and swapping it with something they brought for him. There are a few moments where the strains of health or maybe age attack his voice. The smoothness of his distinct croon faltering slightly the longer the gig goes on, but there's no question he gives all that he is able to.

And to their credit the band are on form tonight. Not just backing Morrissey through the music but supporting him with a presence that raises them above mere backing band. While never threatening to take the focus of their leader, the crowd are just as much a part of tonight's performance and focus as the man himself. Boz Boorer and Jesse Tobias regularly wandering to the front and soaking up some adulation for themselves. And where the band have been known to batter some songs into submission, tonight they find the right distinction between controlled aggression and simply being too heavy handed. 'Black Cloud' and 'Ganglord' boom out forcefully but with a subtlety and clarity that the band hasn't necessarily displayed before. 'I'm Okay By Myself' thunders to and end, the bass line drawn out into a repeating solo that wouldn't seem out of place at a punk gig yet seems just as apt here. 'Because Of My Poor Education' is a wonderful slice of melodrama, beautifully and delicately performed, 'Cemetry Gates' is performed with a delightful lightness of touch, while 'Nowhere Fast' rattles by at a quickened pace that adds a surprisingly effective sense of urgency. 'Life Is A Pigsty' meanwhile closes the main set in dramatic style, all stormy portent and atmospheric fury that justifies it's position as set closer far more than the album version would suggest. Morrissey exits the stage quickly with little fuss or flourish leaving the band to take the limelight, extending the song in a gloriously epic manner.

The two highlights however come in the form of 'How Soon Is Now' and 'The Loop'. The latter far exceeding the understated nature of it's studio version with a raucous outing that is part punk rockabilly, part spaghetti western. Morrissey swaying majestically with each tambourine bash, his band taking the lead and unleash the track with an enthusiasm and swagger or pure rock and roll. 'How Soon Is Now' meanwhile is simply breath taking. The familiar oscillating guitar resounding around the hall. The band attacking it with muscular verve, Morrissey tackling it with a freshness that belies it's familiarity. Stretching the song out with an extended outro of thundering timpani drums, Morrissey lays out on the floor in reverence of Jesse Tobias, gazing up admiringly at his newest guitar hero. The following night, he will find himself on the floor once more in a far more dramatic manner but one thing is for certain. He may be down, but on the evidence of this performance, it's still not time to count him out just yet.

Set List :This Charming Man (The Smiths cover) / Black Cloud / Ganglord / How Soon Is Now? (The Smiths cover) / I'm OK By Myself / Because Of My Poor Education / Death At One's Elbow (The Smiths cover) / Teenage Dad On His Estate / I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris / The Loop / Nowhere Fast (The Smiths cover) / When Last I Spoke To Carol / Cemetry Gates (The Smiths cover) / One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell / Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself / Is It Really So Strange? (The Smiths cover) / The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores / Life Is A Pigsty / Encore: First Of The Gang To Die

Morrissey - I'm ok by myself (live at the BBC 11/02/2009) original version available on 'Years Of Refusal'

mp3 / music / morrissey / birmingham symphony hall / live review

A dreaded sunny day

Last night I saw Morrissey for the umpteenth time.

A review will be forthcoming but in the meantime here's a little bit of the view I had.



mp3 / music / morrissey

I will scatter on the floor

I started 2009 dismissing White Lies entirely.

But my position has shifted somewhat as the year’s gone on.

Not a complete thawing of the ice cold reception I initially gave them. Just a less cynical one. Where once I dismissed them as a thoroughly watered down version of Editors doing an impression of Interpol at their most Joy Division like, now I’m kind of seeing a little bit more to their shtick. They may well be heavily indebted to those bands but if you can see past that, they’ve actually got some pretty good songs. I don’t think they’re the sort of band that are ever going to appear in one of my best of lists but they’re one of those bands that fill a gap. You know the sort of thing I mean. One of those bands you stick on when you just need to listen to something familiar, pleasant and enjoyable that doesn’t need much attention paying to it. I admit, as ringing endorsements go, it’s not one you’re going to find on their next press release but hey, that’s just where I see them fitting in.

Anyway, the reason I’m writing a mildly positive post about them is that I’ve just come across their cover of Portishead’s ‘The Rip’. You’d be hard pushed to do a bad version of this song especially when you don’t stray too far from the template. But where the original was an understated brooding affair, this is more of a standard indie band cover. The kind cover of that replicates the song without capturing the intention, tone or feel of the original. Where Beth Gibbons conveyed the song’s emotion with an uncomfortably raw performance, this has the sense of a singer merely singing someone else’s words. Following the melody as opposed to feeling it. Where Portishead wrong footed you morphing unexpectedly from tender fragility into the pulsing rhythm track, this version practically signposts it’s intentions from the off. You’re under no illusions that the band are just itching to break into the propulsive ending. You can see it coming a mile away. Even if you'd never heard the original, you just know that at some point the song is going to build to a point where it will suddenly burst into life. In this version, there is no surprise. No moment of being caught off guard. No subtely. And when it comes, it’s pretty much as you’d expect. A bombastic display of 80s post punk synths and a dramatic guitar line replacing the driving electronic throb. While it might not touch the greatness of the original, it’s a pretty good run through. Kind of like White Lies themselves then.

White Lies - the rip (Portishead cover live session version) original version available on 'Third'

mp3 / music / white lies

The sun shines in the bedroom when you play

What is it they say about the best laid plans?

Something about them never running smoothly I’m sure.

Well if nothing else, my intentions were honourable. You can’t take that away from me. The day before we were due to fly, while my girlfriend was packing, I hastily rearranged the contents of my iPod, replacing rarely listened to albums with new records to immerse myself in and write about on my return. That was the plan anyway. Like I said, my intentions were honourable. Unfortunately, lying poolside with the sun slow roasting me, my plan evaporated. Forgive me but it was far easier to just hit shuffle and formulate no further opinions about music I was already familiar with. So for 10 days, a random mix soundtracked my trip to Tunisia, interrupted only by full plays of Iggy Pop and Leonard Cohen albums and some refreshing dips in the world’s coldest swimming pool. All of which means that alas, I have no new music to write about. (Though I now have a previously unapparent awareness and appreciation of how strangely perfect ‘The Idiot’ and ‘Lust For Life’ sound in the Tunisian heat.)

Well no, that’s not strictly true. I do have some new music to write about, only it’s not in the strictest sense new. What I mean is that it’s an old band but one that’s new to me. Not that I’ve been totally unaware of them. Far from it. This is a band I first heard about 15 or so years ago, but one that only recently took the time to actually listen to. In truth, I’m guilty of taking a few key facts, making an assumption from them and deciding that the band wasn’t for me. I mean, who needs to actually listen to the music to come to a hastily drawn conclusion? Not me that’s for sure.

So anyway, the band is The Vaselines and the reason for not listening to them is probably the same reason that most people did listen to them. That being an endorsement from a certain Kurt Cobain. Along with Daniel Johnston, The Vaselines will never escape the cursed chalice of being name dropped by Kurt Cobain. See if you can find an article post 1994 that doesn’t mention at least one passing reference to his name. While in terms of exposure to a larger audience it’s an undoubted blessing, an endorsement like that carries with it the inescapable weight of being a pesky short hand reference point that will forever shadow them. In the same way that having massive mainstream success with one song can forever leave you perceived as a one hit wonder, a big name endorsement can easily come to swallow the band itself.

In this case, Nirvana covered The Vaselines on their MTV Unplugged performance, raised their profile and then … well, then nothing. Or not a lot anyway. The band had already split up so the momentum of the endorsement never really went anywhere. Knowing that nirvana covered them seemed to override any actual need to listen to the band themselves. Besides, in light of his death and the record’s posthumous release, all eyes were on Kurt’s interpretation of the songs rather more than his choice of cover. Never being a particularly big fan of either Nirvana or grunge, I simply assumed they were some hardcore American band Kurt was a fan of and that I invariably wouldn’t be. Confused logic for sure but hey, what can I say, I was a teenager at the time.

Could I have been any wronger? The truth is that the Vaselines the sort of band I would have loved back then and certainly love now. Roughly recorded, scuzzily played and seemingly no due care paid to ‘proper’ studio techniques. Short, sharp blasts of disarmingly cute sounding but adult themed jangly indie. To my ears there’s a certain recognisable sound and feel to Scottish indie and The Vaselines encompass it completely. Listen to almost any successful alternative band that’s followed them from North of the Border and you can almost certainly trace a line back in some way to the humble, lo-fi recordings of Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee. From the sweet twee naivety of Belle and Sebastian, to the sunny indie pop of Teenage Fanclub, to the raw melancholy of Frightened Rabbit, it seems like The Vaselines did it first. Albeit with a dirtier mind and filthier mouth. Listening to them in retrospect as I have been, I can’t help but think of that quote about The Velvet Underground selling only small number of records but influencing everyone who bought it to start a band. I might be wrong of course, I don’t know enough about the band or their influence on those bands I mentioned. It just seems that way to me.

The Vaselines - dying for it (live session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

The Vaselines - mollys lips (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

The Vaselines - son of a gun (live session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

The Vaselines - rory rides me raw (live acoustic session version) original version available on 'The Way Of The Vaselines'

mp3 / music / the vaselines