More Advent-urous

Well....I've been waiting and waiting and I think I finally must now be allowed to play this again. And look! It's so early, Low's lights and tinsel haven't even arrived yet!

Low - 'Just Like Christmas' (1999).

Woking Class

Out in the pastures we call society
You can't see further than the bottom of your glass

Here's a band you might know x

Ping Pong

It's alright 'cos the historical pattern has shown
How the economical cycle tends to revolve
In a round of decades, three stages stand out in a loop
A slump and war then peel back to square one and back for more
Bigger slump and bigger wars and a smaller recovery
Huger slump and greater wars and a shallower recovery
You see the recovery always comes 'round again
There's nothing to worry for, things will look after themselves
It's alright, recovery always comes 'round again
There's nothing to worry for if things can only get better
There's only millions that lose their jobs and homes and sometimes accents
There's only millions that die in their bloody wars, it's alright
It's only their lives and the lives of their next of kin that they are losing
It's only their lives and the lives of their next of kin that they are losing
Don't worry, shut up, sit down, go with it and be happy.

Stereolab - 'Ping Pong' (1994)

King Me

As if I needed another PC-based distraction, I seem to have developed an addiction to internet checkers (or draughts, as we used to call them).

I'm playing it late at night and early in the morning, with a cup of tea at lunchtime and whenever I should be doing something 'important' but am bored.

It's not as if I've played the physical version obsessively over the years - there's been the occasional sortie on holiday with the girls or Mrs H, and my grandad used to visit slaughter upon me with it when I was a kid (lawdy didn't that generation know their board games, their cards, their billiards?). But this infernal computery versh has got me hooked.

It's taught me a few things about myself, mind you, viz -

- I can't think very far ahead (hence rubbish at chess)
- I'm impatient when things aren't moving quickly - so act in haste and make mistakes
- I'm not very good at taking risks
- I play defensively
- I can play well when the chips are down

I've tried to work on all this, and have started to win more.

Yesterday I finished a game with a satisfying flourish by taking the last three of my opponent's pieces on the board (all kings) in a single move.

Because I bided my time.

It all reminds me of those lessons the Master used to give Grasshopper in Kung Fu.

The Dave Brubeck Quartet - 'Everybody's Jumpin' (1959)

If you're running one of the older versions of Windows, the pesky game is lurking in your Start menu right now waiting to lure you - be warned!

Yeah Baby

Our occasional series of extended disco classics builds into a magnificent collection your whole family will enjoy.

This week - a solid gold classic in rarely-heard twelve inch form.

From that stash of vinyl we've been discussing.

It's big and it's bassy and the breakdown's to die for.

Jocelyn Brown - 'Somebody Else's Guy' (12") (1984)

In Their Tender Grasp

When one of the Dads at the girlies' school told me he was moving house and planned to chuck all his vinyl out (!) I was round there like a shot for a rummage; he'd very sportingly granted me first refusal on the 'stock' before he hefted it up to the charity shop.

He's a bit of a disco bunny, as it turns out - so I picked up some late Marvin and an Imagination LP (*sings* - "Music and lights! I'll sing and dance with you all night!") a couple of nice twelve inches I'm sure will crop up here some Friday or other and - a tad anomalously given the general spangled thrust of his collection - this.

Which he was kind enough to let me have for nothing, even though I said I thought it'd fetch a few quid 'out there' (I was right - crazy prices for even the CD!).

We popped it on chez H last night and oh, what loveliness we found it to contain.

Sorry, poor work-rate I know, but I'm only part-way through computerising it I'm afraid; still, I wanted to share a little of it with you.

This old music is lighting up my dark, dark November, and perhaps it will yours, too.

The Lotus Eaters - 'German Girl' (1984)

The Lotus Eaters - 'Out On Your Own' (1984)

Tagged

*sigh* Evidently I have been 'tagged' by the Drewster.

I don't usually approve of this sort of thing, but he's a companero and it would seem churlish not to comply.

The rules of the game are

1 To post a song that makes you happy
2 To tag as many people as you want
3 To say one thing about the blog(s) that you tag that will make them smile.

I tag Mick because it was his birthday yesterday, I like him 'Simpsonized' and this might encourage him to post twice in the same month.

The world's a brighter place in my beautiful balloon.

The 5th Dimension - 'Up, Up And Away' (1967)

Wo Wo Wo, It's Magic

Shoot me down in flames but I most wickedly and indulgently took a lunchtime-afternoon off on Monday to meet my old funk-buddy Wayne 'up West' for pints and a pub tuna-melt & chips.

There was much quaffing and blethering on about nonsense.

At one point Wayne asked me if I'd heard a certain song by Bobby Womack, and when I said I hadn't, he played it for me down his iPod. We agreed it was a smoker, the acoustic guitar (Bobby's) high up in the mix a special delight, and I said 'I've gotta find that, it'd make a tip-top Friday post'.

Just an hour or so later as we flicked through the racks at Revival Records in Berwick St, looking for nothing in particular, we found a 'near mint' copy of the original album with the song on for just £2.

£2!

The great and beneficent gods of vinyl be praised, it was another of those moments when you know they are smiling down upon you.

How could I not buy it? It had been waiting there for me. And it turns out to have lots of lovely things on it, mostly ballads, with Mister Mack in fine vocal form.

So I get to post what I wanted...

Bobby Womack - 'When The Weekend Comes' (1986)

and a bonus for your late nites too...

Bobby Womack - 'I Can't Stay Mad' (1986)

Both songs - Bobby Womack/Harold Payne.

Yeah baby and Amen.

Winter Garden

If you came to my garden right now you'd see a shambolic layer of soggy, fallen leaves on what passes for the lawn and a couple of old bicycles rusting in the rain.

Minnie's sounds better.

Minnie Riperton - 'Come To My Garden' (1970)

[Stepney if you've heard this one before]

Back To Bass Licks

Our occasional series of extended disco classics builds into a magnificent collection your whole family will enjoy.

This week, the extraordinary bass playing of Mr Bernard Edwards (R.I.P).

It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing, hot damn.

Chic - 'Everybody Dance' (12") (1977)

Goodbye To All That

Miss - hotdogs & soup, wrapping up in scarves and gloves, standing by the bonfire with my friends, going 'Oooh!' and 'Aaah!' and writing my name with sparklers in the air.

Don't miss - teenage boys chucking bangers in the streets frightening cats, old ladies, little kids and me; horrible injuries caused by fireworks in the hands of the incompetent, small or malicious; the roots of the festival in the worst kind of anti-Catholicism and the nasty prejudices it perpetuated.

XTC - 'Sacrificial Bonfire' (1986)

Synth You Mention It

I did love their doomy, glacial stuff.

Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - 'Almost' (1980)

Bonjour Finesse

I am grateful to my good friend Dr Al for bringing these ladies to my attention on a mix CD he pressed upon me in early summer; I rather like this, and it will surely serve us well as a Monday (and new month) heartstarter.

Au Revoir Simone - 'Shadows' (2009)

Virgin Peely

Our occasional series of bloody good things builds into a random collection your whole family will enjoy.

This week, a whole hour of music and chat with your Uncle John, as recorded for in-store entertainment at Mr Branson's record shops 30 years ago this month.

This will certainly help your Friday poison-of-choice slip down and if you play it really loud tomorrow night you might even be able to drown out the incessant door knocking of those pesky trick or treating kids.

John Peel - Virgin In-Store Show, October 16th 1979 (part 1)
John Peel - Virgin In-Store Show, October 16th 1979 (part 2)

In memoriam JP (five years!) and with thanks to the Peel Wiki and our very own Turkish Adam wot started it up, the treasure.

Track listings in comments. You'd have definitely walked out with the new Specials LP...

Half Term

There will be a short break whilst 1) we (again!) drive to Devon and back in a single day to wish my Aged Father a happy birthday, and 2) I generally gather my autumn thoughts (with motorway sandwiches).

Quentin Crisp - 'Stop The Music For A Minute' (1982)

It's Friday, I'm In Love.....With 'London'

This one's been lurking for a good few weeks now, popping up in pub conversations and iPod shuffles, making a cameo appearance in this post, breaking the surface in this book and yesterday its opening line running through my head on the southbound train from New Street (along with Dexy's - 'I'm on the train from New Street to Euston, I'm going back to Harrow again...').

I used to think the lyric was 'train creep on to Euston', but how much greater is 'heave' ? I suppose that's why he's Morrissey and I'm.....not.

I love how that opening squeal of feedback seems like the inertia-breaking brakes and suddenly we're off, fast fast fast down the tracks.

Smoke lingers 'round your fingers
Train heave on to Euston
Do you think you've made
The right decision this time ?

You left your tired family grieving
And you think they're sad because you're leaving
But did you see jealousy in the eyes
Of the ones who had to stay behind ?

And do you think you've made
The right decision this time ?

You left your girlfriend on the platform
With this really ragged notion that you'll return
But she knows that when he goes
He really goes

And do you think you've made
The right decision this time ?

A whole world, a whole drama, in two minutes, two seconds.

That's a lovely, affectionate fan video too.

The Smiths - 'London' (1987)

Bolder To Birmingham

Oh yes, I'm off to Britain's second biggest city for two days' work and a hotel night between (hello trouser press and 'gold' taps, hello cheap teabags) so I'm selecting this fruity slice of West Midlands psychedelic pop to serenade me on my way.

According to my Birmingham A-Z there is, sadly, no Blackberry Way in the city, though there is a Blackberry Lane in the suburb of Halesowen, wherever the Roy Wood that is.

See you back here on Friday.

The Move - 'Blackberry Way' (1968)

Still Life With Pears

Cooked this tonight for Mrs H - last time we made it, it was for friends that have long since gone (er....to Merseyside, not the Great Beyond) ; first time, it was when we had the Aged Ps up to London from Devon on the event of the first birthday of the first daughter and my Mum said 'Well, I can't believe Dave cooked something like that" which she meant, and I took, as a compliment.

Tonight, perhaps because I am off to Strange Parts for a night later this week and perhaps because me and Mrs H spent our wedding anniversary this year driving north on the autoroute from SW France and eating in service stations and perhaps because, damn it, it was a dull Monday on a darkening week at a darkening time of year, I cooked it again.

This time though, of course, I had the girls helping, but had to explain that 1) whilst Delia has good cooking ideas she is 2) a bit over-fussy, and there's no need to follow her to the letter, you know....Improvise around a stated theme, maaaan - it's a jazz thing, baby.

Anyway, it was nice.

Though our bastard dishwasher has broken and there's a hell of a lot of washing up for tomorrow.

Quincy Jones - 'Something's Cookin' (1969)

From the 'Italian Job' OST, and, I think, Art Decade, originally....thank you New York!

Painting by Jos Van Riswick.OK. I'll shut up about cooking for a bit now.

House Work

This Friday, in a change from our usual programme, we go all post-punk funk agitprop with some people from Leeds, one of whom's called Hugh.

If you are unfamiliar with this and expect dour avant-gardeism you may be pleasantly surprised by its sprightly pace and funky bass'n' drum.

Lefties can dance! It's like the 80s were about to happen!

Gang Of Four - 'It's Her Factory' (1979)

House Music

Tonight back late, tired and tapped out, I poured myself a glass of wine and briefly exchanged news of the day with Mrs H who was imminently off on a Girls' Night Out (outrageous!). The daughters got the Monopoly out ("Well, it is a bit late for that..." - 'Oh, Daddy...!"), I set Mr Shuffle to 'Go' and started cooking up a dhal.

Mr Shuffle played the best, most right-for-my-mood and the moment and the time of year and all, little shuffle sequence.

The girls played on, buying up the train stations - two a piece ("always buy up the train stations"), building houses and hotels, and Mr Shuffle dropped his tunes and the tomatoes sank into the cooking lentils and the aroma of fresh ground ginger and garlic arose and.....things were good.

The wine was fine.

Things were good.

------

I go all old indie and goth at this time of year - it's an almost involuntary reaction to the turning of the earth and the lengthening of the shadows.

If you came here for this sort of thing once upon a blogdream you'll now be saying 'At last!'

If you came here for the funky when the summer was around, you'll now be thinking 'You wha-?'

If you've been around for a while, you'll know the score by now.

This Mortal Coil - 'Help Me Lift You Up' (1991)
Biff Bang Pow! - 'She Paints' (1988)

Mr S. actually played these back to back; it just went. We must add TMC to our list of tracks with good thundery bits at the start.

Peachy

Our occasional series of extended disco classics builds into a magnificent libr-oh, you know the rest.

This baby has a bass line that can only be described as FAT and Melba funks around it like a good 'un: you best turn it up and tell your neighbours it's Friday.

Melba Moore - 'Standing Right Here' (extended version) (1977)

[Still recording]

King Richard

Some of you might be wondering how Hawley was last night and the answer is quite, quite superb - tighter and slicker and more serious than when I last saw him, his voice still astonishing and his guitar-playing exemplary. The songs from Truelove's Gutter were razor-sharp live and this one, of course, made me cry (maybe I will drink a little less).

"I wrote it for The Mrs. I were dead pleased with it and played it to her. I said 'What do you think of that then?' She said 'Yeah, it's all right is that. Now what do you want for your tea? Shall we have a Chinese?' "

[All things Hawley here: buy stuff!]

Echo In A Shabby Bay

Way back in the dying, dog days of the late 80s I was a summer out of college and had failed to get a job to keep me in London. I had returned, sad and defeated, to my parents' in Torbay. Applying for jobs in the local paper, I'd wound up in the customer accounts department of British Gas.

It was the run-up to the 'Tell Sid' privatisation and they'd taken on extra people to cope with what they imagined would be an increase in calls from members of the public wanting info about shares. No such calls, of course, came (there was a well-publicised hotline the gullible phoned instead) and I just got absorbed into the department, taking final meter readings over the phone from people moving house, clearing up account queries, helping old ladies understand why their bills had been 'estimated' even though 'I'm always in my dear, they only have to knock', making appointments for meter readers, referring hardship cases to the DHSS. It was, for the most part, inestimably grim.

I spent rainy lunchtimes (and in my memory of those days it is always raining) in the library, or in the not especially well-stocked Torquay branch of HMV or with a sympathetic colleague in the town's one proper coffee shop. I was living an extended hangover from a terrific time at college where the world had been my oyster, now fearing - like the old Jam lyric had said - that my future was a clam. And the sympathetic colleague turned out to be a sort of Mrs Robinson figure, which, calm yourself, didn't really help, to be honest.

One impossibly dark and drizzly lunchtime I went and bought this; how odd to think now that this 'late' there were still new Echo & The Bunnymen albums out. Its sweep and its tug and its singing-through-grey seemed all I needed, and I played it to bits.

The summer came and went and like Billy Liar I knew I had to get out; unlike poor Billy, I did. 'Do you think you've made the right decision this time?'. Yes. I packed a bag for London and I never went back.

I've been playing these songs again lately, not because it is grim here, or I am sad, or nostalgic for the past, or any of that obvious stuff, but because they stand up as songs, seem right for the season* and because the LP is, I think, underrated, and I like it a lot.

Echo & The Bunnymen - 'The Game' (1987)
Echo & The Bunnymen - 'The Game' (acoustic demo) (1987)
Echo & The Bunnymen - 'All My Life' (1987)

[*I see the album came out in July. Bah! It'll always be autumn for me]

At Last I Am...

Three years of my life peddling this nonsense! 526 posts! 4,695 comments! Some of them from real people! And popstars! Write ups in The Grauniad! Links from The Word! Countless witterings! Quite a lot of music! But still no podcasts! Or pre-planning! Hurrah!

Thank you for your companionship - I'd have given this up long, long ago had it not been for you - yes, you! xx

Here's a lovely, apposite, 3 minute 42 second thing from a while back you can listen to whilst, Winslet-like, I 'gather, gather'.

Tanya Donelly - 'My Life As A Ghost' (2004)

Echoes In A Shallow Bay

Dark in the mornings now, isn't it? And it's a drizzly-greasy one today, a slow drip drip drip.

Here's a perfect thing.

From Elizabeth via Robert Wyatt out of, somewhat incredibly, Chic.

Elizabeth Fraser - 'At Last I Am Free' (2003)

[From this]

Yeah Baby

Our occasional series of extended disco classics builds into a magnificent library your whole family will enjoy.

This week - La Ross! Enfin!

Diana Ross - 'Love Hangover' (12") (1976)

Duke Consideration

I don't imagine you'd think yourself familiar with the work of Vladimir Dukelsky, and the name Vernon Duke might draw a blank with you too.

But if you've been digging 'Can't Get Started' in the Cannonball or maybe already know vocal versions by Sinatra or Mel Tormé, if you've ever sung along to 'Autumn In New York' or 'April In Paris' or swung along to 'Taking A Chance On Love' then You Have Been Listening to the man in question.

A Belarusian émigré to the US who trained at the Kiev Conservatory, staged ballets with Serge Diaghilev, became a close friend of both Sergei Prokofiev and George Gershwin and continued to compose 'classical' music throughout his life under his real name, Duke (as we shall cheekily call him) also happened to pen some of the most beautiful standards in the American popular songbook.

Sinatra especially always namechecked him in performance. His wistful lyricism and soaring melodies are really quite something; and with Cole Porter, Johnny Mercer, Richard Rodgers and Jerome Kern as contemporaries, he was hardly running in a race of pygmies.

On Monday I started playing his tunes, but the strange thing is, I didn't make the connection...I just hopped from the perfect-for-the-time-of-year 'Autumn' to a lovely 'What Is There To Say?' as done by both Bill Evans and Sonny Rollins, to 'Can't Get Started', which I posted for feeling that way, and only afterwards did I realise all these songs were Vernon Duke's.

Then I learned from Wiki that his 'old calendar' birthday was on Sunday.

'These are the coincidences that thrill my imagination'.

Let the leaves fall....

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - 'Autumn In New York' (1957)
Sonny Rollins - 'What Is There To Say?' (1957)
Frank Sinatra - 'I Can't Get Started' (1959)

As you'll tell from the crackles, the first and third are vinyl rips. Thanks to Greer, who stoked the flames of this one x

Blue Monday

We've got that same feelin', Jules and me.

Julian "Cannonball" Adderley - 'I Can't Get Started' (1961)

FLASH! Aaa-AAAAAH!

Keepin' it old skool, bro.

I have this on single from back in the day; that Sugarhill label's a purty thang.

Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five - 'The Message' (1982)

No Smoke Without Fire

I bought my first new 7" single in two decades from the Rough Trade shop at the weekend. It's this lovely thing from the lovely Smoke Fairies, which comes in a limited edition pack with a 'free' 5 track CD (which is, let's face it, the EP). What larks!

The Smoke Fairies are two nice girls from Sussex who picked up some dirty blues and slide guitar licks and sad, dark Appalachian bits in the States and Canada that offset their sweet English folk harmonies like a good Kentucky bourbon does a ginger ale. Or something. I like them a lot.

They're supporting Richard Hawley on tour next month, which would seem a winning combination all round, so I'd better get my ticket sorted pronto.

Smoke Fairies - 'Morning Light' (2009)

Their MySpace.