"Waiting for Bill"
Nearly two months ago, my friend Jon and I went down to see Bill Drummond’s exhibition in Birmingham and sought out his graffito under Spaghetti Junction. I wrote about it in a Tumblr post here.
Somewhere - possibly on Bill’s website, maybe at the exhibition itself - I saw a note encouraging people to send in photos of any of Bill’s graffiti they saw, so I sent in my photo and also a link to my blog. I didn’t hear anything back and that was fine; I didn’t expect to. I was happy just to take part.
And then, last Friday, I received a reply to my email: “And I think I will be back there this coming Wednesday at some point”. 
I was quite taken aback by this response, presumably (and excitingly) from Bill. So I wrote back: “At the exhibition or the canal? Is there something happening?”
“I will be doing my next layer under Spaghetti Junction. But it is not a public performance. I am just passing through Birmingham on the M6 as I drive from [somewhere in Scotland] to London. Thus no fixed time.”
“If you don’t mind a small audience, I’ll bring a book and a picnic, and hang around to see if I can catch you in action.”
There was no reply to my last email.
I had a ponder.
I sent Jon a text to see if he wanted to come to Birmingham for the day. He did! But he couldn’t :-(
On Saturday, I mentioned it to Dan and Abi, who, it transpired, were both interested and keen to come along. It turned out that, characteristically, the Minx was enthusiastic about it, too. Hurrah! All we needed now was a plan. 
I figured it was going to take Bill just over five hours to get to Birmingham. If he was an early riser, that meant he’d be there around eleven. If he decided to leave after a late breakfast, it would be more like four o’clock. So we aimed to get there around midday on the basis that an early-rising Bill would still be there and busy.
So, just before twelve o’clock, we arrived in Birmingham, got out of the car, gathered up our picnic things and headed down to the canal, beneath spaghetti junction. It was immediately apparent that someone had already covered over Bill’s posters with a new phrase, “Let your lone ranger ride”. Hm… Had Bill beaten us here? I’d assumed his next layer would be posters but could this be it? It didn’t seem very Bill? But then, my inability to predict or second guess Bill is a significant component of why I admire him so much. 
After some (mildly) hazardous manoeuvring, I managed to cross the canal and make my way along to the exhibit. The paint was completely dry: it hadn’t been done today. Here is a picture of me that the Minx took at the scene and here is one I took of the dead flowers in jars on the ground in front of it.
Thus, (sort of) reassured that we hadn’t missed Bill, we went on to set up our picnic. And then we waited for Bill. While we waited, we read our books, did some drawing, had a couple of walks up and down the canal and, between the four of us, made a small artwork for Bill. 
I have to say I enjoyed every moment. It was so relaxing, sat there in our odd little picnic spot, grazing on our lunch as bemused cyclists, pedestrians and even a boat went past. Eventually, though, we required some facilities that this unorthodox spot did not provide and, just after four o’clock, we struck camp and headed back to the car.
Am I disappointed that we didn’t see Bill? Well, yes and no. We went there to see him, of course, not least because of the oblique and possibly misinterpreted invitation to see him at work. But I’m not mad on meeting my heroes; a handshake will do me, which would have been tricky across the canal. Meeting Bill could - as my daughter, Izzy, would say - have been “bare awks”. 
But I’m grateful for the situation that Bill created. We had a lovely day, the stuff of memories.

"Waiting for Bill"

Nearly two months ago, my friend Jon and I went down to see Bill Drummond’s exhibition in Birmingham and sought out his graffito under Spaghetti Junction. I wrote about it in a Tumblr post here.

Somewhere - possibly on Bill’s website, maybe at the exhibition itself - I saw a note encouraging people to send in photos of any of Bill’s graffiti they saw, so I sent in my photo and also a link to my blog. I didn’t hear anything back and that was fine; I didn’t expect to. I was happy just to take part.

And then, last Friday, I received a reply to my email: “And I think I will be back there this coming Wednesday at some point”. 

I was quite taken aback by this response, presumably (and excitingly) from Bill. So I wrote back: “At the exhibition or the canal? Is there something happening?

I will be doing my next layer under Spaghetti Junction. But it is not a public performance. I am just passing through Birmingham on the M6 as I drive from [somewhere in Scotland] to London. Thus no fixed time.

If you don’t mind a small audience, I’ll bring a book and a picnic, and hang around to see if I can catch you in action.

There was no reply to my last email.

I had a ponder.

I sent Jon a text to see if he wanted to come to Birmingham for the day. He did! But he couldn’t :-(

On Saturday, I mentioned it to Dan and Abi, who, it transpired, were both interested and keen to come along. It turned out that, characteristically, the Minx was enthusiastic about it, too. Hurrah! All we needed now was a plan. 

I figured it was going to take Bill just over five hours to get to Birmingham. If he was an early riser, that meant he’d be there around eleven. If he decided to leave after a late breakfast, it would be more like four o’clock. So we aimed to get there around midday on the basis that an early-rising Bill would still be there and busy.

So, just before twelve o’clock, we arrived in Birmingham, got out of the car, gathered up our picnic things and headed down to the canal, beneath spaghetti junction. It was immediately apparent that someone had already covered over Bill’s posters with a new phrase, “Let your lone ranger ride”. Hm… Had Bill beaten us here? I’d assumed his next layer would be posters but could this be it? It didn’t seem very Bill? But then, my inability to predict or second guess Bill is a significant component of why I admire him so much. 

After some (mildly) hazardous manoeuvring, I managed to cross the canal and make my way along to the exhibit. The paint was completely dry: it hadn’t been done today. Here is a picture of me that the Minx took at the scene and here is one I took of the dead flowers in jars on the ground in front of it.

Thus, (sort of) reassured that we hadn’t missed Bill, we went on to set up our picnic. And then we waited for Bill. While we waited, we read our books, did some drawing, had a couple of walks up and down the canal and, between the four of us, made a small artwork for Bill.

I have to say I enjoyed every moment. It was so relaxing, sat there in our odd little picnic spot, grazing on our lunch as bemused cyclists, pedestrians and even a boat went past. Eventually, though, we required some facilities that this unorthodox spot did not provide and, just after four o’clock, we struck camp and headed back to the car.

Am I disappointed that we didn’t see Bill? Well, yes and no. We went there to see him, of course, not least because of the oblique and possibly misinterpreted invitation to see him at work. But I’m not mad on meeting my heroes; a handshake will do me, which would have been tricky across the canal. Meeting Bill could - as my daughter, Izzy, would say - have been “bare awks”.

But I’m grateful for the situation that Bill created. We had a lovely day, the stuff of memories.

0 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 153 [VANITY SPECIAL!] : Travel, Climate, Industry by The Zane Gray Incident
Forty years ago today, in Canada, a young, shy bookish drummer called Neil Peart joined prog-rock pioneers Rush and started four decades of musical excellence, revered by musicians the world over.
Coincidentally, 10 years later to the day in Clydach Vale, South Wales, four young musicians spent their first ever day in a proper recording studio 
The track was hastily added with a few home recorded ones on to a cassette titled “Music for Operatives” and enthusiastically sent off to muso mags and record labels. The result? 
"Four excerpts from TZGI’s "Music for Operatives" (terrible title) tape show, from a band with a surfeit of strong melodies and a healthy imagination. They handle the combination of sung and spoken vocals particularly well: the opening "Travel, Climate, Industry" is like a synth based Gang of Four, if you can imagine what that might sound like." E&MM, Jan 85
"TZGI enclose excerpts from "Music for Operatives”, “Music for Industry…Music for Dance”. Now where have I heard that before (at least 17 times)? It must have been in my penthouse or down on the pavement below.
Cruel but fair, TZGI plough an oversubscribed field, but manage to stay in artistic control…with a passionate and punchy construction. The integrated use of flanger, chorus and phaser still leave a simple sound - you can hear the ideas, despite the soggy mix, and that’s the crucial difference
So often on delving into these cassettes, the immortal twin words of holy intent are brought up as the critical tools of analysis - speak now or forever hold your comparison - OK, OK I hear you. Depeche Mode. Out of their exemplary shadow, so many home-based synth combos fail to crawl. TZGI made it.”
And thus kicked off three decades of lost hopes and un-realized dreams.
Sadly, I’m not Canadian - so that’s me in the rising sun tee in a studio renowned for hit after hit (not). I was stylish as well as musical. 
I’m very proud of the track (we were all 17 after all) and it still gives me a small tinge of pleasure when I hear it. You can enjoy it in all its glory here.

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 153 [VANITY SPECIAL!] : Travel, Climate, Industry by The Zane Gray Incident

Forty years ago today, in Canada, a young, shy bookish drummer called Neil Peart joined prog-rock pioneers Rush and started four decades of musical excellence, revered by musicians the world over.

Coincidentally, 10 years later to the day in Clydach Vale, South Wales, four young musicians spent their first ever day in a proper recording studio 

The track was hastily added with a few home recorded ones on to a cassette titled “Music for Operatives” and enthusiastically sent off to muso mags and record labels. The result? 

"Four excerpts from TZGI’s "Music for Operatives" (terrible title) tape show, from a band with a surfeit of strong melodies and a healthy imagination. They handle the combination of sung and spoken vocals particularly well: the opening "Travel, Climate, Industry" is like a synth based Gang of Four, if you can imagine what that might sound like." E&MM, Jan 85

"TZGI enclose excerpts from "Music for Operatives”, “Music for Industry…Music for Dance”. Now where have I heard that before (at least 17 times)? It must have been in my penthouse or down on the pavement below.

Cruel but fair, TZGI plough an oversubscribed field, but manage to stay in artistic control…with a passionate and punchy construction. The integrated use of flanger, chorus and phaser still leave a simple sound - you can hear the ideas, despite the soggy mix, and that’s the crucial difference

So often on delving into these cassettes, the immortal twin words of holy intent are brought up as the critical tools of analysis - speak now or forever hold your comparison - OK, OK I hear you. Depeche Mode. Out of their exemplary shadow, so many home-based synth combos fail to crawl. TZGI made it.”

And thus kicked off three decades of lost hopes and un-realized dreams.

Sadly, I’m not Canadian - so that’s me in the rising sun tee in a studio renowned for hit after hit (not). I was stylish as well as musical. 

I’m very proud of the track (we were all 17 after all) and it still gives me a small tinge of pleasure when I hear it. You can enjoy it in all its glory here.

2 notes

The Wedding Present, Trades Club, 27th July 2014

gigtails:

image

fennerpearson

If you had been in my parents’ house sometime around the early eighties, you would have two distinct types of music coming from the bedrooms occupied by me and my brother. From mine you would heard a very limited diet of electronic music: Kraftwerk, Gary Numan, OMD, Ultravox,…

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 142 : Hiroshima Mon Amour by Ultravox! from Ha! Ha! Ha!
I used to read Warren Cann’s drum programming column in some music magazine, and religiously program his patterns into my little old (crappy) SR-88 drum machine. You see I was a big fan of Ultravox (without the !) and remember borrowing someone’s Ultravox! (with the !) albums and thinking how austere, cold and unexciting they were. And that old Midge really helped step them up a bit. Now, there doesn’t seem that much difference between late Ultravox! and early Ultravox.
You see, distance is a wonderful thing in music. That which is too close (as ! was to no !) seems outdated and yesterday’s thing. But give it 10+ years and everything sorts itself out in the classics standings.
In fact ! has more gravitas than no !, probably as they were never forced into chart success.
HMA is a beautiful Kraftwerk/early Roxy Music inspired track featuring Warren’s unmistakeable drum programming. This set the template for many new wave/synthpop songs to come, a la Enola Gay 3 years later. Warren’s TR-77 sounds a lot better here than my SR-88, of course.
Serendipity : 10
Love : 8

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 142 : Hiroshima Mon Amour by Ultravox! from Ha! Ha! Ha!

I used to read Warren Cann’s drum programming column in some music magazine, and religiously program his patterns into my little old (crappy) SR-88 drum machine. You see I was a big fan of Ultravox (without the !) and remember borrowing someone’s Ultravox! (with the !) albums and thinking how austere, cold and unexciting they were. And that old Midge really helped step them up a bit. Now, there doesn’t seem that much difference between late Ultravox! and early Ultravox.

You see, distance is a wonderful thing in music. That which is too close (as ! was to no !) seems outdated and yesterday’s thing. But give it 10+ years and everything sorts itself out in the classics standings.

In fact ! has more gravitas than no !, probably as they were never forced into chart success.

HMA is a beautiful Kraftwerk/early Roxy Music inspired track featuring Warren’s unmistakeable drum programming. This set the template for many new wave/synthpop songs to come, a la Enola Gay 3 years later. Warren’s TR-77 sounds a lot better here than my SR-88, of course.

Serendipity : 10

Love : 8

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 128 : Bats in the Attic by King Creosote & Jon Hopkins from Diamond Mine
I’m all for singers giving up the American pretense and singing in their naturalized voice. Heavy on his Scottish accent, King Creosote’s (or Kenny to his friends) vocals are delicate and beautiful above a simple piano, drums & atmospheric arrangement. Hopkins keeps the electronic acrobatics to a minimum with just a subtle bass tone to hint at his ambient credentials. Serendipity : 10 Love : 7

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 128 : Bats in the Attic by King Creosote & Jon Hopkins from Diamond Mine

I’m all for singers giving up the American pretense and singing in their naturalized voice. Heavy on his Scottish accent, King Creosote’s (or Kenny to his friends) vocals are delicate and beautiful above a simple piano, drums & atmospheric arrangement. Hopkins keeps the electronic acrobatics to a minimum with just a subtle bass tone to hint at his ambient credentials. Serendipity : 10 Love : 7

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 121: I Tried by Mull Historical Society from Loss
A song that manages to be majestic despite its fragile components. Light production, thin vocals, reedy synths, and fuzz guitar. But MHS pulls it off with aplomb to create one of my favourite songs I’d forgotten about.
The song’s well constructed with lots of peripheral instrumentation. I particularly like the “wedding peel” bells that come in at 2’35”. And all very clever considering MHS is a one man band called Colin.
Serendipity : 10
Love : 9

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 121: I Tried by Mull Historical Society from Loss

A song that manages to be majestic despite its fragile components. Light production, thin vocals, reedy synths, and fuzz guitar. But MHS pulls it off with aplomb to create one of my favourite songs I’d forgotten about.

The song’s well constructed with lots of peripheral instrumentation. I particularly like the “wedding peel” bells that come in at 2’35”. And all very clever considering MHS is a one man band called Colin.

Serendipity : 10

Love : 9

1 note

(Source: themichaelmoran)

4 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 108 : Is There Anybody Out There? by Bassheads
An Acid House classic - probably the best IMHO in melding breakbeats, 808/303, Italia-house piano and lifted samples. And my, there are a fair few samples in here. Talking Heads, Osmonds, Afrika Bambaataa, Pink Floyd & The Power all make the cut. Back in ‘91 I’m sure the copyright implications were less appreciated so I can’t believe BH got much change after royalties. In fact the Floyd sample, from which the track got its name, had to be removed when this was released as a (much shorter) single.
Serendipity : 10
Love : 9

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 108 : Is There Anybody Out There? by Bassheads

An Acid House classic - probably the best IMHO in melding breakbeats, 808/303, Italia-house piano and lifted samples. And my, there are a fair few samples in here. Talking Heads, Osmonds, Afrika Bambaataa, Pink Floyd & The Power all make the cut. Back in ‘91 I’m sure the copyright implications were less appreciated so I can’t believe BH got much change after royalties. In fact the Floyd sample, from which the track got its name, had to be removed when this was released as a (much shorter) single.

Serendipity : 10

Love : 9

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 100 : Basscadet by Autechre from Incunabula
The acceptable side of unlistenable, I love how autechre make chaos, dischord and disharmony come together into something musical.
Artisans of their trade, you can hear the care, attention and love put into these productions. These are not slap-dash, hit the keyboards and see what happens musicians. This is well crafted music where sounds are carefully constructed and layers gradually built.
I just couldn’t see myself sitting in a studio 10 hours a day finessing this stuff. And for that, kudos!
Serendipity : 10
Love : 8

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 100 : Basscadet by Autechre from Incunabula

The acceptable side of unlistenable, I love how autechre make chaos, dischord and disharmony come together into something musical.

Artisans of their trade, you can hear the care, attention and love put into these productions. These are not slap-dash, hit the keyboards and see what happens musicians. This is well crafted music where sounds are carefully constructed and layers gradually built.

I just couldn’t see myself sitting in a studio 10 hours a day finessing this stuff. And for that, kudos!

Serendipity : 10

Love : 8

2 notes

A reminder of things lost

domconlon:

I have remembered you in the light
morning doesn’t want,
in the echoes whittled
from footsteps passing by,
and in the drips
my taps cannot hope to hold.

I have stacked boxes in your name,
watched clocks to see your face,
cast coins for candles
and plans to the wind,
and I have learned
there is nothing to taste
or to touch
in memories.

from www.domconlon.com

7 notes

Sacred City (part 1)

shriekbackmusic:

image

The year was 1991 and enough time had elapsed for a certain amount of friction after the GoBang period to have dissipated.

And for a recalibration in my Shriekback head to have occurred.

I had survived a period (the first in ten years) without a record deal and I wasn’t sleeping in a…

7 notes

"The 25 Paintings" An exhibition of work by Bill Drummond.
I’m a huge fan of Bill Drummond. I first heard of him when he was managing Julian Cope and Echo & The Bunnymen and I wasn’t terribly interested in him then. Later on, he was in the JAMS and I bought one of the handful of copies of ‘1987 What the fuck is going on?’ that were released into the wild because that did seem interesting and thus I followed him through the KLF, The Timelords and the K Foundation, becoming progressively more interested by him, right up to the point when he and Jimmy Cauty burned a million pounds. And then I was hooked.
Since then I’ve followed Bill (as I’ve decided to refer to him) mostly through his books and the occasional article, although now he doesn’t give interviews. You can, however, read his responses to his last 100 interview questions in his book ‘100’ (if you can find a copy and have some money to spare).
Three years ago, I met a chap on Twitter, Jon, who had, if anything, a greater fascination with Bill than me. Our mutual interest in his works led us to having our own project/event/happening which you can read about here. I don’t know if Bill would have approved or found it banal but his influence is clear. And, actually, the fact that I can’t get inside Bill’s head and understand what makes him tick, is one of the reasons I find him enduringly fascinating.
For the last three months, Bill has had an exhibition at Eastside Projects in Birmingham and Jon and I decided we ought to go along. So, we chose a date and today we drove down. It was only upon arriving at the gallery and seeing that it was only open Wednesday to Saturday that we thought that we ought to have checked the when the gallery was open. 
We took photos through the glass door and decided what to do next. There’s a piece of graffiti that Bill has put up in various places - “Imagine waking tomorrow + all music has disappeared” - and Jon knew that Bill had done it under spaghetti junction. We decided to recover the day by finding it.
As we were stood there talking, a man and a woman came out of the gallery door. I checked with them that the gallery was actually closed today - which, of course, it was - and then asked if there was any way that we could just pop in for five minutes. The man replied that we’d have to come back on Wednesday but Jon told him we’d come along way to see the exhibition and, to our surprise, we were told to come back in half an hour.
So it was, then, that Jon and I had the opportunity to see the exhibition on our own and I am hugely grateful that we were allowed to do so. Apart from the wonderful ‘25 paintings’, themselves, there was also ‘The 60 posters’, a bed that Bill has built and is raffling, ‘The house of cards’, maps showing many projects including the soup line and cake circle, some of the knitting that he is inviting people to do while they’re there, a rotation of his sixty second videos, and, wonderfully, his work desk. It was all totally engrossing.
Unsurprisingly, we stayed for far more than five minutes but the chap seemed happy enough, and perhaps he was even more happy when we both bought copies of all of the different books that were for sale.
It’s always odd coming out of an exhibition that’s had an effect on you; I want it to extend out into the real world. Happily, on this occasion, Jon and I had already decided that just because we’d managed to see the exhibition after all didn’t mean we could abandon plan B: finding Bill’s graffiti. (This was made easier, however, as the an in the gallery had give Jon some directions as to how to find it.)
And, indeed, after a ten minute drive to spaghetti junction, and a shortish walk along the canal, we found the graffiti, illuminated by a skylight in the bridge above. It was quite magical. Over the top Bill had put up a series of posters of him in the process of painting his head, which we’d also seen at the gallery.
I don’t know if Bill is a Situationist or what his view of Situationism is but there, under this concrete flyover, across a stagnant canal, using the light, some paint and a series of posters, he managed to create something quite beautiful.
I love him more now than I did this morning,

"The 25 Paintings" An exhibition of work by Bill Drummond.

I’m a huge fan of Bill Drummond. I first heard of him when he was managing Julian Cope and Echo & The Bunnymen and I wasn’t terribly interested in him then. Later on, he was in the JAMS and I bought one of the handful of copies of ‘1987 What the fuck is going on?’ that were released into the wild because that did seem interesting and thus I followed him through the KLF, The Timelords and the K Foundation, becoming progressively more interested by him, right up to the point when he and Jimmy Cauty burned a million pounds. And then I was hooked.

Since then I’ve followed Bill (as I’ve decided to refer to him) mostly through his books and the occasional article, although now he doesn’t give interviews. You can, however, read his responses to his last 100 interview questions in his book ‘100’ (if you can find a copy and have some money to spare).

Three years ago, I met a chap on Twitter, Jon, who had, if anything, a greater fascination with Bill than me. Our mutual interest in his works led us to having our own project/event/happening which you can read about here. I don’t know if Bill would have approved or found it banal but his influence is clear. And, actually, the fact that I can’t get inside Bill’s head and understand what makes him tick, is one of the reasons I find him enduringly fascinating.

For the last three months, Bill has had an exhibition at Eastside Projects in Birmingham and Jon and I decided we ought to go along. So, we chose a date and today we drove down. It was only upon arriving at the gallery and seeing that it was only open Wednesday to Saturday that we thought that we ought to have checked the when the gallery was open. 

We took photos through the glass door and decided what to do next. There’s a piece of graffiti that Bill has put up in various places - “Imagine waking tomorrow + all music has disappeared” - and Jon knew that Bill had done it under spaghetti junction. We decided to recover the day by finding it.

As we were stood there talking, a man and a woman came out of the gallery door. I checked with them that the gallery was actually closed today - which, of course, it was - and then asked if there was any way that we could just pop in for five minutes. The man replied that we’d have to come back on Wednesday but Jon told him we’d come along way to see the exhibition and, to our surprise, we were told to come back in half an hour.

So it was, then, that Jon and I had the opportunity to see the exhibition on our own and I am hugely grateful that we were allowed to do so. Apart from the wonderful ‘25 paintings’, themselves, there was also ‘The 60 posters’, a bed that Bill has built and is raffling, ‘The house of cards’, maps showing many projects including the soup line and cake circle, some of the knitting that he is inviting people to do while they’re there, a rotation of his sixty second videos, and, wonderfully, his work desk. It was all totally engrossing.

Unsurprisingly, we stayed for far more than five minutes but the chap seemed happy enough, and perhaps he was even more happy when we both bought copies of all of the different books that were for sale.

It’s always odd coming out of an exhibition that’s had an effect on you; I want it to extend out into the real world. Happily, on this occasion, Jon and I had already decided that just because we’d managed to see the exhibition after all didn’t mean we could abandon plan B: finding Bill’s graffiti. (This was made easier, however, as the an in the gallery had give Jon some directions as to how to find it.)

And, indeed, after a ten minute drive to spaghetti junction, and a shortish walk along the canal, we found the graffiti, illuminated by a skylight in the bridge above. It was quite magical. Over the top Bill had put up a series of posters of him in the process of painting his head, which we’d also seen at the gallery.

I don’t know if Bill is a Situationist or what his view of Situationism is but there, under this concrete flyover, across a stagnant canal, using the light, some paint and a series of posters, he managed to create something quite beautiful.

I love him more now than I did this morning,

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 75 : Black Cherry by Goldfrapp from Black Cherry
A gentle, ambling electropop song backed up by some good old fashioned analog synths, swooping & bleeping in the background. The addition of a string section towards the end gives it a lush, rich texture. Very pleasant and indulgent.
Serendipity : 10
Love : 7

Sublime track!

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 75 : Black Cherry by Goldfrapp from Black Cherry

A gentle, ambling electropop song backed up by some good old fashioned analog synths, swooping & bleeping in the background. The addition of a string section towards the end gives it a lush, rich texture. Very pleasant and indulgent.

Serendipity : 10

Love : 7

Sublime track!

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 69 : This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us by Sparks from Kimono My House
For a long time, the oddball Mael brothers were a hazy memory from the pop-culture of my childhood years. Of course, the internet put paid to that several years ago, and in some ways I regret the passing of that ability (in some situations and especially in music) to stitch together distant memories into vague recollections that tease and excite. Anyway…
Wonderfully progressive, Sparks found unlikely fame in the 70s glam rock scene. It still surprises me how the UK record buying public embraced them. This is an eclectic tune, punctured by staccato drums, falsetto gymnastics, incomprehensible lyrics and chunky guitar.
Serendipity : 7
Love : 9 

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 69 : This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us by Sparks from Kimono My House

For a long time, the oddball Mael brothers were a hazy memory from the pop-culture of my childhood years. Of course, the internet put paid to that several years ago, and in some ways I regret the passing of that ability (in some situations and especially in music) to stitch together distant memories into vague recollections that tease and excite. Anyway…

Wonderfully progressive, Sparks found unlikely fame in the 70s glam rock scene. It still surprises me how the UK record buying public embraced them. This is an eclectic tune, punctured by staccato drums, falsetto gymnastics, incomprehensible lyrics and chunky guitar.

Serendipity : 7

Love : 9 

2 notes

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 50 : Is This Love? by The Fireman from Electric Arguments
The experimental psychedelic noodlings of Paul McCartney and Youth (producer and former Killing Joke bassist). Lots of cymbal shimmers, tom tom dabs and background flutes - its a cross between the trippy bits of The Doors and the slower sections on Carlos Santana.
The album (and The Fireman project) is McCartney harking back to his hippy 60s period. Not your perky music-hall tunes. More reflective and mystical. All credit to him for letting go a bit.
Serendipity : 10
Love : 4

morningmusicshuffle:

Day 50 : Is This Love? by The Fireman from Electric Arguments

The experimental psychedelic noodlings of Paul McCartney and Youth (producer and former Killing Joke bassist). Lots of cymbal shimmers, tom tom dabs and background flutes - its a cross between the trippy bits of The Doors and the slower sections on Carlos Santana.

The album (and The Fireman project) is McCartney harking back to his hippy 60s period. Not your perky music-hall tunes. More reflective and mystical. All credit to him for letting go a bit.

Serendipity : 10

Love : 4

3 notes