Nostalgic.

This week I've mostly been playing old albums, albums from the early 70s - a time when I was first getting into music. As a kid I was in a youth group, and so had a bunch of friends who were a few years older then me. These friends introduced me to their music, which often meant I was the only kid in class who listened to these bands. Of course I listened to what was popular as well, but mostly it's those older ones that have stuck with me.

I've played some Deep Purple, some Mountain, some Ten Years After and some Free this week. Musicians playing real instruments, who could play the crap out of them. Drums with tone and timbre, keyboards that sounded analog, not digital. Guitar solos which make you want to weep cos you can feel the pain. Singers with range, melody and voices.

I watched Jeff Lynne's ELO concert, which was Jeff and Richard Tandy, and a bunch of hired hands. His first show in 28 years. I cranked it, loved the opening tracks - but about halfway through I was getting bored. Why? Because the versions had no drive, no oomph, no punch. Those hired hands sounded exactly like hired hands. Technically perfect, but they weren't invested in the music. I later threw on an ELO disc, and the difference was night and day. It rocked.

Yeah, I know I'm getting older. And I know that music speaks to me because I was there. I recognise all that - but it's my music and I love it. There are some modern bands who manage it, who speak to my soul. But I still love my past.

I've also become a little obsessed with the image of a jigsaw puzzle I once owned. I used to do them quite often, when I was younger, and there was one I had which I wish I still had. My memory may be imperfect, but I remember it like this. It's a photograph along a cobbled street in Europe, with an outdoor cafe. Set in the late 60s, I think. I think there was probably a harbour on the right, with boats and yachts. Everyone is simply enjoying the sun, eating, drinking. I remember a few people wearing RayBan style sunglasses. No one pays any attention to the camera - except one kid who is gazing directly at the lens, and therefore, at me.

I've tried hunting for this photo online. I'd love to see it again. And there'd be a tip of the hat to anyone who could point me in the right direction.

What does all of this mean? Nothing, except I've had a week of nostalgia, and it's been great.

Vale: Johnny Winter.

I was a teenager when Paul introduced me to the music of Johnny Winter. My friends were listening to the more popular music to be found on 3XY while Paul was playing Mountain, Ten Years After, Iggy Pop and Johnny Winter for me.

I remember that raw voice, the 'I feel rock'n'roll' scream at the beginning of Johnny B. Goode, the guitar picking. I remember wondering why the band was called 'Johnny Winter And.' I wondered why the album cover showed only his back, and how this scrawny, weird looking, long haired white guy could play the blues so well.

One of the first bootlegs I ever bought was a Johnny Winter live double album. It had a great sound, a tight band and a fantastic setlist. I played those discs so often I could recall every guitar lick in their grooves.

I finally got to see Johnny live in 1986. I will never forget the moment he walked on stage. He asked how we were doin', played a few runs, then tore into Hideaway, and the band were off and running. Playing the licks so effortlessly, reaching for his Firebird when he played slide, that cool Texas drawl when he spoke to us.

Johnny was on tour in Europe when he passed away. He has a new album due for release in the next few months.

He was 70.

Somewhere, Under The Rainbow...

A couple of weeks ago, I hooked up with some friends to watch The Dark Side of the Rainbow. You know the one.  You watch the Wizard of Oz while listening to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, and just enjoy the moments of coincidental synchronisation. I first saw this about 10 years ago at University - but some of my friends hadn't seen it so we threw it up on a big projected screen and ran the sound through a great system.

The DVD I was able to score had already been cued up with the music, and came with overlays showing the matching points of reference. OK, some of them are a real stretch - but when you see Dorothy reacting to sounds on the album, or watch the tornado dancing in time to The Great Gig in the Sky - it seems to be more than just a happy coincidence.

It was a lot of fun, but I came away with a few thoughts.  Firstly - The Wizard of Oz is a great film, and beautifully filmed. Whole scenes that are just stunning to watch. Secondly, The Dark Side of the Moon is a great sounding piece of art - even though it has been overplayed and overpraised for many years.  Return to it from time to time and check it out.  And thirdly - it is an album. Remember those?

Back when I was a kid, bands made albums - complete works that were meant to be listened to as a whole.  Yes, they often pulled singles from them, but generally the tracks had a unified theme or were planned to sit one after another. And I'm not necessarily referring to the great 'concept' albums, or the prog rock monstrosities of the 70s.

But in these days of the 30 second attention span, bands don't make and listeners don't seem to want more than one or two tracks. (Yes, I know this is a generalisation.) Many 'bands' (and I use the term loosely) these days are singles oriented. The kids I know at school tend to download their songs, or buy compilations, and generally aren't worried about having complete works.

I know, I know. It's a different world, a different time.  But I remember the first time I listened to Mountain's Nantucket Sleighride, for example, and was blown away by the whole thing. From beginning to end it was brilliant. Or Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick Would we have had this 43 minutes saga (yes, it's divided in two parts, but it is one song) in these times of two minute gratification? It wouldn't be financially viable for a band to record and release a beast like that.

But there are still bands around making albums. And I still take great delight in finding old gems that somehow I missed first time around.

Speaking of which, have you heard the new Lynyrd Skynyrd I'm listening to? It was released in 1976.