The Path Continues.

My uncle John also shaped much of my taste in music - or at least he guided it.

When I was around 11 or twelve years old, he gave me a cassette tape. He had recorded two of his records for me - one on each side. The Essential Beatles, a quirky Australian compilation, and The Monkees Greatest Hits.
 
I already liked the Beatles, having watched the cartoon series. While the cartoon show focussed on the earlier years, although it did include Strawberry Fields and Penny Lane (and, most disturbingly, Tomorrow Never Knows), the cassette included songs right through to Let It Be.  The Monkees Greatest was, and still is, just a really good selection of songs.

I'm not sure, but I think it was probably a year or so later, he gave me two purchased cassettes - The Most of the Animals, and The Beatles & The Rolling Stones. The Animals tape had, for me, intriguing track titles, although at the time I didn't play it as much as the other tapes. The Beatles and Rolling Stones cassette was, in hindsight, my first bootleg.  A pretty average sounding tape of a few tracks from the Beatles 1964 Hollywood Bowl show, and the rest from BBC recordings.  I remember falling in love with the energy of Twist and Shout, but I did play the tape to death.

Unfortunately those tapes were lost in a fire in the early 80s, and until about 6 months ago I couldn't remember which Animals and Monkees tapes he had given me. I spent a bit of time researching, and by looking at album artwork and tracklists, it had to be these two. I've had the Essential Beatles on vinyl since the 80s, but I've now found copies of the other three. 

I've had a lot of fun revisiting these four albums.  I only wish my uncle was still around.  We could share a beer, listen to the albums, and talk music.

I Join The Path.

The first album I ever chose for myself was Suzi Quatro's Can the Can. I was about ten, and I asked Dad to buy it for me for Christmas. He was a little concerned, as the men on the cover looked a bit "rough", but he bought it, and I loved it and played it a lot. I still do. It had fantastic songs, a great sound and it rocked. I thought Suzi was the greatest. I even had a Suzi poster on my bedroom wall. I wish I still had that poster as it's quite rare now.

A year later I was lucky enough to score two albums for Christmas. I had really liked The Night Chicago Died and Billy Don't be a Hero, and so my parents bought Paper Lace And Other Bits of Material for me. My mum quite liked it - she even told me that it was better than she thought it would be. Not knowing who they were, she was probably basing her ideas on the sounds of the Suzi album from the year before. 

Unfortunately, Paper Lace hasn't aged too well. Many of the songs were dated even then, although at the time I thought they were really good.  Forgive me. I was 11 years old.

The other album I received was a compilation, Explosive Hits '74. It's a fantastic snapshot of the Australian music scene from that year. It's amazing how many music fans still consider it to be a great album.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, at a school fete, I bought a Simon and Garfunkel compilation. It cost me 10 cents or so. I had no idea who they were, but I liked the cover. I played that album a lot. I remember listening to I am a Rock, and thinking how deep the lyrics were. As an adult, I am amazed at about the age of ten I understood its meaning so well. 

And then a year or two later, an older friend lent me Rolled Gold. I was a Beatles fan, he was a Stones fan. I played the album a lot, preferring the later sides. He asked me what I thought of side one. I told him I didn't like it as much as the later, more poppy stuff as the production sounded "dirty".  He told me it was meant to be like that. It took a while, but over the next few years I really got into the Stones as well.

There were singles in between, one or two other albums, but in my mind, apart from the Beatles, Can the Can, Explosive Hits '74, Simon & Garfunkel and Rolled Gold put me on the path to where I am now, musically. 

And I still listen to these four albums.

It's Just Like the Sixties to Me.

The Beatles and the Rolling Stones are in the charts. Last time I looked, Now and Then was number one on the singles charts, while Hackney Diamonds topped the album charts. Who would have ever believed that sixty years ago.

I've already written about how much I love the new Beatles single, and now I've had a chance to listen to the Stones. I like it, but I don't love it.

Remember when Voodoo Lounge was released, and everyone said it was the best thing since Some Girls? This is what they're saying here. And when was the last time Voodoo Lounge was mentioned? It's not hard to be "the best since" when everything else has been average.

The songs, for the most part, are fine. It's the album that is very overproduced, a wall of guitars. It's easy to get sucked in by the gospel infused Sweet Sounds of Heaven, but listen to it a couple of times and it's lyrically lightweight.  Their last great album was Some Girls, partly for the great songs, but also because it was just the band.  Space between the instruments, rough edges, and the guitars playng off each other.

I will listen to it from time to time, but I wish they had gone with an older sound. But we all have different tastes, and I know some will love it.

Enjoy.

Vale: Charlie Watts

Charlie Watts passed away yesterday.

I knew he hadn't been well, and that Steve Jordan had been tagged, with Charlie's blessing, to stand in for Charlie in some upcoming live shows while Charlie recovered from some surgery. And it certainly crossed my mind we might not see Charlie playing again. It was still somewhat of a surprise.

Mick and Keith are the visible Stones, the personalities, the front men. They're the yin and yang, the necessary tension. Music and words, although not as clearly defined there as you would expect. Ronnie is the glue that kept Mick and Keith from ripping each other's throats out, and has been since 1975 or so. Charlie was the foundation on which they were built.

I'll go further than that. He was the heart, and the heartbeat of the Stones, and a true gentleman.

Like Ringo in the Beatles, he was rarely flashy, but he was always spot on - both in timing, and with what was required to make the song complete. Steady as a rock.

I grew up a Beatles fan - from the age of 9 or so. In my early teens, my friends were all a few years older than me, and one of them, Paul, is a huge Stones fan. He lent me Rolled Gold, a lovely compilation with a good overview of their early career. I remember him asking me what I thought, and I told him it wasn't as good as the Beatles because it sounded dirty. He told me that was the point. I still didn't get it.

I was probably about 12 or so at this time, and I simply didn't get them. There were a couple of tracks I liked, but didn't fall in love with. A few years later and I was into them. I bought two albums in quick succession. Let It Bleed, and Get Yer Ya-Yas Out - I can't remember which was first, but both are excellent albums which I played over and over. And still do.

On Ya-Yas, just before Honky Tonk Women, Jagger says "Charlie’s good tonight, ain’t he?" And he was. But I can't think of a Stones recording where Charlie wasn't good. He was always good.

I've been listening to a bunch of Stones albums in the past 24 hours.

And yes, he's good.

Vale: Lou Reed.

1966. The Beatles were at the tail end of their moptop era, the Stones were their nasty counterparts. Very few people were listening to the Velvet Underground, despite the massive influence they were to become and remain.

McCartney sang Got To Get You Into My Life, a subtle acknowledgement of marijuana, while the Velvets recorded, Heroin, a full-on description of the drug coursing through their veins. They sang openly about the New York underground scene: drugs, prostitution, sado-masochism, etc.

Like most people, my first taste of Lou Reed was through the first band album, Velvet Underground & Nico, and his second solo album, Transformer. The best-known tracks off those two albums alone are enough to define an entire career. Sunday Morning, I'm Waiting For The Man, Femme Fatale, Venus In Furs, Run Run Run, All Tomorrow's Parties, Heroin, I'll Be Your Mirror, The Black Angel's Death Song, Perfect Day, Walk On The Wild Side, and Satellite Of Love to name only some of them.

Lou was 71 years old.

A Parcel Of Rogues At The National Theatre.

I've bought my tickets to see Steeleye Span next week. They're touring to celebrate their 40th anniversary. While my wife cringes every time I plays their albums, and I think I'm now only allowed to listen to them when she's not home, I'm fortunate that my best friend also loves their music. So we'll have dinner, a drink and then down to the National Theatre for the show. This will now be about the fifth time I've seen them live. I was fortunate enough to see them a couple of times with their classic Mark IV lineup, the band that recorded the wonderful Commoner's Crown album.

I wasn't going to write about Steeleye, but I've spent the past few days listening to some of their CDs. And you have to love their storytelling.  Little Sir Hugh, Long Lankin, even Demon Lover - wonderful stories, some dating back as far as the 13th century, that are as dark as anything else I've seen.  Tales of murder, infidelity and meeting the devil abound.  Lots and lots of themes and ideas lie within their discs, just waiting to be harvested for reuse in some of my current stories.

I recently listened to Present, a collection of re-recorded Steeleye songs.  The playing is accomplished enough, but it doesn't groove, it doesn't swing.  It's not something you can describe, but it's something you can feel when you listen to it.  At first I wondered whether it was simply because I was more familiar with the old favourites, but it's more than that. There's something missing - a bit like comparing Gimme Shelter from a recent live recording to the original dark, threatening Let It Bleed version. The Rolling Stones are more accomplished now, but there's a  feel that's absent.

But that's not to say that Steeleye Span still aren't fabulous,  The current line-up (similar to the one I saw a couple of years ago) is still fantastic, and Maddy Prior's voice is still one of the purest I've ever heard.

And while my wife stays home and watches some chick flick, I'll be dancing (at least in spirit) to All Around My Hat.

And Now, Here They Are, The Beatles!

Only two weeks until the remastered Beatles CDs become available.

As a Beatle freak, (Yep, that's me sitting at the console in Studio 2 at Abbey Road) this is something I've waited a very long time for. The 1987 releases were awful - muddy, compressed and quite unlistenable. And, for some reason that's still unclear, the first four albums were only released in mono. At the time EMI made some excuse about how that's how they were released originally, but it didn't take much research to discover those discs were also released on stereo vinyl.

About 15 years ago in Tokyo, the good Doctor and I obtained CDs containing mono transfers of the White Album. I still recall the first time I heard those. Wow! Not only was the mix amazing, but the clarity and presence blew my mind. Sgt. Pepper was much the same. Of course George Martin and crew spent almost three weeks mixing the mono Pepper, and about two and a half days with the stereo mix.

Over the past few years, my official Beatles CDs have been relegated to the back cupboard while I've listened to Dr. Ebbett's vinyl transfers. Superior in every way.

While the Rolling Stones have continually updated and repackaged their discs (although I still prefer the Mickboy transfers), the Beatles have waited a long time to do this. And from all I've read, it looks like it has been done properly.

The Doctor is the coolest Beatles fan I know. He knows what's what, and we have incredibly similar tastes and interests. I only wish he lived closer so we could have a listening party together on the release date.