If you're going to be a fucking rock star, go be one.
(Lemmy)
Lemmy might have been fed broken bottles and rusty blades as a child washed down with sulphuric acid and salt water - and that'd be how he got to have the most distinctive vocal growl in rock & roll. Motorhead were, well, Motorhead. A 40 year career dedicated to the art of their craft with no hidden agenda or technological trickery, no cop-out change of direction or carefully edited output...and don't ever look for complexities - there were none of those either. With Motorhead you always got the feeling that you WERE actually getting what you assumed you were....and that's because you always were. With the greatest of respect they were a reliable constant.
Lemmy's death is an end that will always feel too soon, Too soon for goodbyes. Too soon for understanding. Too soon to ever prepare for. It's exactly how he'd have wanted it.
The philosophies of an introspective binge thinker
Essex born singer/songwriter Beans On Toast (real name Jay McAllister) began his career playing acoustic nights as part of the London folk scene in 2005 and, following a Glastonbury slot in 2007, has gone on to build a huge underground following in the UK. His straightforward social commentary with equal measures of jocular wordplay, self deprecation, genuine cynicism and wide-eyed storytelling may seem endearingly impolitic...but it's not....it's cultural anthropology. Though not quite the pissed off outsider he does have opinions and is opinionated enough to express them. Beyond any accurate definition..he's a hip-hop pub rock/social philosophy folk punk/ acoustic indie hippy rant poet.
New album Rolling Up The Hill is his seventh and, in keeping with his own quirky tradition, released it on Dec 1st, his birthday, as he has done every year since debut album Standing On A Chair in 2009. Recorded in Kansas and produced by husband/wife country duo Truckstop Honeymoon who introduce their own distinct brand of sound with the inclusion of a double bass, mandolin and banjo alongside Beans' usual acoustic infrastructure.
It brings a subtle Americana bluesy tinge to the songs, especially so on catchy opener The Mudhills Crew a breezy harmonica driven accolade to nostalgia with fond recollection (Teenage kicks and teenage dreams/ We were the best of friends/And tonight I've been thinking about them) while the cleverly crafted poke at capitalism on Robin Hood Costume is a class conscious political protest rap strung across a simple repetitive beat.
His adoration for girlfriend Lizzie B creates uncomplicated boy/girl love songs like I'm Home When You Hold Me...tender with honesty and beautifully innocent (I know you love the ocean baby/ I know you love the sea/ Well you know that I love you/ And I know that you love me) It's unsophisticated schoolyard chalk heart poetics...and isn't that as it should be...Why should we ever complicate what love makes simple? It's the song of the year for me!
God Is A Cartoonist is a vitriolic swipe at the instigating iconoclastic concepts of religion, conjouring from him his most acidic backbiting volley yet (Every christian, every muslim and every atheist/ Has a god giving right to take the piss/Hallellujah god is good, god is great/God is a terrorist/ while recent jaunts across the USA are chronicled in the foot-tapping travelogue of lead single The Great American Novel, a fond name-check through popular American culture with infectious storytelling enthusiasm in a charming framework of subtle bluegrass music
His songs are a fascinating sojourn through jigsawed pieces of modern culture without wandering too far from the realities of modernity, The witty, observational lyricisms are intoxicating..and there is no evocative metaphors or idiotic unthinkable visions of a better world. This is an album of profound sincerity, genuine reflection and astonishing, spot on, social essaying with heart on sleeve integrity.
Racing through nine songs with the spirited intensity that defines him...this voracious cultural expressionist from within a turbulence of monologues...the skewed artiness of his freewheeling folk punk and true, rough-edged DIY. At times he is, for sure, the charged up narrator of his own frustrations snatching up personal wreckage from the alleyways of emotional squalor in a bombardment of impulsive eulogies. But he is as tender as he is proactive, a deep seated idealist, philosophically subjective enough to not always be ploughing at us with rebellious objection.
Opening song Some Nights is a whirling, hair-trigger of frenzied guitar that clocks in at just under two minutes long....followed by recent EP track Change his glorious homage to contempt through frustration (Is that too much to ask?/ Probably!) he sneers with a backbiting, vitriolic dismissal. The quick/slow/stop/start of Who I've Become nurtures poetic reflection underneath the blustering,hard faced exterior its delivery encourages it to adopt. Lyrically he flits between the wry and the clever, his storytelling narratives creating from the space between thought and expression.
His derisive, post-relationship break up summary The Coast Is Clear rattles with a contentious indifference (I will see you again/ And we'll pretend to be friends) its barely veiled subtleties dashed with realistic cynicism. Further songs include All I've Got, Is It Me?. Noose and a nod to the brilliant Withered Hand with a cover of No Cigarettes.
Recorded one night in April at Edinburgh's Banshee Labyrinth...songs of urban adolescence and prevalent adulthood from the iconic roaming troubadour in the prolific style and resplendent sharpness of instinctive creativity.
Taken from the forthcoming Wendy James album The Price Of The Ticket. It's all in the terminus of the expressiveness and the psychology of the mood. See dogmatic revisionism and resplendent sharpness collide in kaleidoscopic lyrical juxtaposition....That's what I'd say if I were to adopt the manner of a pretentious cunt! But I'm not and I'm not. I haven't heard the entirety of her new album yet,..but I bet it is all the things I just said... with a charming intellectual conceit for a bonus!
Former Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver frontman Scott Weiland died in his sleep on Thursday night while on tour with his current band The Wildabouts. He was 48. The singer was found dead on his tour bus around 9pm, just before he was due on stage at the Medina Entertainment Center with his band.. At the time of writing the cause of death remains unknown though some sources have reported he suffered a "possible cardiac arrest". His death has been confirmed by his wife of just two years, the photographer Jamie Weiland in a brief telephone conversation with a reporter from The Los Angeles Times.
Scott Weiland was best known for his time with grunge band Stone Temple Pilots who rose to fame at the start of the 1990's...their debut album Core has gone eight-times platinum and its follow up Purple achieved platinum status six times. In 2002 he teamed up with former Guns N Roses guitarist Slash to form Velvet Revolver. Their debut album Contraband hit the Number 1 spot on the Billboard 200. He left the band in 2008 to rejoin Stone Temple Pilots but in 2013 the band announced on their website that he'd been fired.
Scott had a long history of substance abuse and struggled with his addictions for many years. In 1995 he was arrested for possessing crack cocaine and, in his 2011 memoirs revealed he also used heroin. He led a troubled life and had many difficulties. His creative spark and unique style shone from him brighter than the sun ever could. Life may have denied him the inner peace he so needed but in death may it find him and keep him safe. RIP.x
I can't think of a better way to cheer a Sunday up than with a Christmas song that lasts just 34 seconds! It's the catchiest half minute you're ever likely to have...so be thankful for it and be filled with joyous luv-buzz happiness.
Glasgow singer/songwriter Jim Diamond has died at the age of 64. The singer, whose hits included I Should Have Known Better, Hi Ho Silver and I Wont Let You Down passed away at his home in London. A spokesman for his family said they were 'deeply shocked by his sudden death' adding 'He was a devoted family man who loved his wife Chrissy and his children Sarah and Lawrence. He will be much missed by everyone who knew him'. His death comes less than a fortnight after announcing his mother Sarah had died.
Jim first made the UK singles chart in 1982 as singer with PhD - the single I Wont Let You Down reaching number three. He went on to gain international acclaim as a solo artist with the hugely successful I Should Have Known Better a UK number one in 1984 and Hi Ho Silver - the theme tune for ITV series Boon which reached number 5 in 1986.
Fans have been leaving tributes on his Facebook page HERE
His official website is HERE
May you rest in peace...Scotland's answer to Ray Charles....we will miss you dearly.
The facile composer of rock and rolls greatest riffs with his first solo album in over two decades
He is the quintessential rock & roll star.The literal definition. A rough edged, hard living vagabond spending almost 50 years on the drugs and booze frontline - this connoisseur of excess and hedonism who has wrong-footed and body swerved his own death so many times he has possibly earned the right to .live forever. As much as his widely documented exploits may have their place in popular culture it's in the formidable Rolling Stones songwriting partnership with Mick Jagger that the sheer magnificence of his greatness truly shines. And in songs like... Jumpin Jack Flash, Brown Sugar, Paint It Black and Satisfaction they have created some of rock musics greatest moments.
His new solo album Crosseyed Heart, the first since 1992's Main Offender, is deeply rooted in the music he is influenced by. It's the essentiality of the man, a compendium of distinction in measured parts of accomplished musicianship from bluesy rock and Americana to jazz, reggae and straight up ballsy rock and roll. Roughly hewed, lovelorn, beautifully crafted and with a passion that sears for an honesty divulged,
Opening with the title track, a gentle eight-bar acoustic blues that clocks in at under two minutes,His rasping vocal, all worn out and life roughened, as he deliberates '(Oh she's sweet but she drives me round the bend/ I go round the corner and find another friend/ I got a crosseyed heart) across the unflinching briefness of its entirety. The Country-tinged lament Robbed Blind is clasped in atmospheric piano and brooding pedal steel guitar. His sleepy, half-spoken vocal rattles with a subdued anguish as he interprets the lyrically tender tale... (the heart you stole was mine) with a profuse vulnerability.
The pre-released single Trouble is trademark Keith Richards, a riff-swaggering rock & roll song with hook laden bluesy-rock guitar chords - his cracked vocal delivery on the chorusing 'Baby, trouble is your middle name' powers its way through the Stonesy-styled grooves. The formula is similar on the melodic, guitar-driven Heartstopper and funky R&B track Substantial Damage.
One of several standout moments is his reggae tinged cover of the Gregory Issac classic Love Overdue complete with horn section and a surprisingly warm and tender Keith Richards vocal delivery that oscillates with a depth and character you would never have believed him to be capable of. Less so the drawn out cover of Leadbelly's Goodnight Irene which fails to justify its place here and becomes the albums only real disappointment.
A collaboration with jazz singer Nora Jones on the yearnful Illusion sees her smoky, deep reaching tone weave tenderly around the reflective mood of his 'Just an illusion that's for sure/Nothing that you've seen before' they sing, sharing lines and switching roles.. while frenetic nod to his Chuck Berry influence Blues In The Morning is an energetic 50's rocker featuring longtime friend and collaborator the late Bobby Keys.
This album is the very best of his solo efforts to date...a snake tangled, liquor drenched, rough diamond rocker with scattershot rural Americana and some sweet little rustic country blues all heaved together brilliantly. Personally I think it's better than anything The Rolling Stones have done since Exile On Main St.....and it's right here that you truly understand the fundamental importance of Keith Richards....right down to that ragged machine of a voice. If, like me, you kinda took him for granted as 'the Rolling Stones guitarist' then listen to this album and have your eyes opened and your opinions re-shuffled. The man is superb.
(PEE RECORDS) Some frenetic rabble rousing fury and nostalgic chaos from the Australian skate punks
Skate punk is a sub-genre that combines the breakneck pace of melodic hardcore with the catchy youthful bounce of pop punk, giving it that very solid wall of guitar riffs and powerful drumming. It's not a new concept of cross-genre music by any means and it's a much used, overcrowded one thanks to the popularity of bands like NOFX, Suicidal Tendencies, Pennywise, Sick Of It All and Lagwagon who, through various personal adaptions of their own interpretation, generated the global reputation of skate punk music and, in turn, inspired a million other bands to follow suit. Some of those bands became really good and some became really not so. Australian band The Decline (with this album being the reference point from where my opinion is based) seem to be of the former.
Things here really couldn't begin any better than they do with the short but powerful opener NEW AGAIN, a song that lasts less than two minutes yet manages to hammer out a formidable entrance, bristling with energy and utter immediacy. It's quickly followed by the effective stop/start/stop guitar work that begins recent single GIVING UP IS A GATEWAY DRUG, a great song with little flourishes of inventive brilliance - with its change in chord pace and sudden vocal dips. It's a showcase for incredible drumming on faster paced THE BLURST OF TIMES pounding a symphony of melodic and frenzied skate punk percussion that ends with a clever guitar solo.
There's a heavier sounding hardcore launch for frenetic CAMBERWELL STREET, the ever restless punk rock urgency is skippered by some well pitched melodic partnering....again that ever present intuitive musicianship gathers things up and brings it together with a slick competence.WRECKING BALL has pace and it punches and snaps its way forward with aggressive punk energy, the crunching guitars and fiery attitude are intermixed with melodic vocal combinations...similarly the malevolent YOU'RE NOT THE WAITRESS and final track START AGAIN.
This may not be the album that will go on to inspire a new direction, but I'm pretty sure that is something this band are well aware of anyway. They seem genuine enough for what they do to ever care for or need such bloated accolades of superficial wank egoism....and it's a pretty good album nonetheless. Awash with neat guitar chords and huge rabble rousing bursts of sound it's kept mostly simple concise and to the absolute point....utilising their skilled musicianship at precise moments to suddenly steer things in a different direction...delightful bodyswerves you didn't see coming that completely change an entire song in that instant. Far from being some copycat fraudsters of a work already made they are a band delivering a perfectly executed homage to their influences with plenty of their own originality on view....just to prove their point.
Cilla Black sadly died today at her holiday home in Marbella, Spain. She was 72. Best remembered for her successful television career hosting two of Saturday nights biggest shows Surprise Surprise and Blind Date where she quickly established herself in the hearts of the nation. Previous to her TV fame Cilla Black was a 60's pop star after being signed by Beatles manager Brian Epstein in 1963. Her debut single Love of the Loved was written by Lennon and McCartney. She had two number one hits the following year with You're My World and Anyone Who Had A Heart. Cilla went on to release 14 albums throughout her successful pop career before moving into television in the early 70's. Rest In Peace.
A 50 minute documentary made by the BBC in 1999 with lots of television clips, live concert extracts, backstage coverage and solo interviews with each of the four members.
Autobiographical depiction of the band from their beginnings as pub band The Invaders to their eventual chart success and global stardom. Featuring live gig clips and a selection of Madness hits. Fans of the band will love it.
The 70mins documentary traces the history of anarcho punk band CRASS through archive footage of live performances and interviews with the bands former members Penny Rimbaud, Steve Ignorant and Gee Vaucher
With previously unseen footage Made Of Stone is a fascinating journey through the life of one of the most influential and innovative bands in the history of British music as they prepare for their 2012 reunion tour culminating in a triumphant homecoming Manchester performance in front of 75,000 fans.
The deeply perceptive outrage of a skilled social commentator
The socially conscious observational elegies of Sleaford Mods are hybrid relatives of the descriptive essaying found in the romanticised Englishness of The Kinks...a specific, distinctive style of picturesque lyricism, a huge photo-album of narratives almost, that can be easily viewed and interpreted for what they are. Moments are usually fleeting..but to ensure those fleeting moments remain is where the reputations of good and bad lyricists are built. It's a method of writing popularised in recent years by Ian Dury, Alex Turner and Pete Doherty...as one might update a diary, endless sequels to advancing modernity, triumphs of a past still culturally significant in this ever changing Britain...Today's most relevant of chroniclers, without question, are Nottingham post-punk/hip hop duo Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn...best known as Sleaford Mods.
Their third album 'proper' Key Markets is as previous two Austerity Dogs (2013) and Divide And Exit (2014) were. Jason Williamson's enraged dystopian monologues are brilliantly precise and show a sharp intellect for discourse...kicking and prodding at the face of a broken society with venomous grammatical zig-zagging. Andrew Fearn's minimal orchestration of strong, low toned bass lines and skeletal discordant beats is what completes that compelling curveball and sets them slightly apart from the rest. Latest single No One's Bothered is a catchy, quick paced, punk driven bluster of exasperated irritation...'You're trapped? Me too! Alienation, No one's bothered!' chants Williamson with swiping sarcasm, above the relentless drumbeat and throbbing bass, in a dig at human behaviours fading sense of connection under capitalism. In another withering analytical jab, this time on the marching swagger of Bronx In A Six he lashes out from the slow handclap of a beat 'Youwonder why you've got no mates? You pretend to be proud of your own culture, while simultaneously not giving two fucks about your own culture, what culture? FUCK CULTURE, all you chinny wine tasters die in boxes like the rest of us wasters'. The bone rattling fury inspires suchimaginative put-downs you start to wonder if the devil might have breathed a howling demon into his vernacular mouth.
The sashaying groove funk of Silly Me is the laid back, slowest song on the album while TarantulaDeadly Cargo with its post-punk thrum is a fragmented cinematic transition. But its the enraged political conviction of Face To Faces that brings out his best, and most frenzied bout of uncompromising vitriolic wordsmithery yet....'‘Nick Clegg wants another chance. Really? This daylight robbery is now so fucking hateful. It’s accepted by the vast majority..In chains, in our death and in our failure to grab hold of what fucking little we have left we have lost sight, And in the loss of sight we have lost our fucking minds, ALRIGHT??!.... Genius. Pure and utter!
What endears Sleaford Mods to the people is the subject matter of their songs and the fact its real. Most of us can relate to some if not all of what they sing about. The unfussy, no frills pub philosophies, dole que politics and council estate manners. It's that spilled beer and cheap tobacco ambience of dead end destinations where streets are narrow, most roads will lead nowhere...and that very British of traditions to resent the rich and nurture anti-establishment hatred.. alienating us from anyone with power.
They’re not canvassing to be the spokesmen of this generation.. merely voicing their own frustrations and dislikes and if they mirror our own then it shall be a shared mutual distaste that brings us together…nothing more. Jason Williamson will always be an outburst waiting to happen. Andrew Fearn will always let his beats do the talking. Sleaford Mods are the best band in the country.
