Monday, January 22, 2007

Indulgence

I don't do this very often but I've just eaten a whole bag of Julian Graves' Fruit Pastilles so I'll not sleep tonight because I'll be deafened by the sound of my teeth rotting. To take my mind off it, I've been Tubing. I make no pretence to being popular where music's concerned, both feet are usually dragged firmly back into the past (although I did actually find myself emailing 6 Music the other week during Boy George's mix session and congratulating him for genuinely keeping me entertained for 2 hours. And they read it out). There's no mournful shoe gazing in this here selection though. Nor any anger, swearing or cod philosophy or 160 bpm frantic grooving. This is bare bones rock and roll, trimmed right back to the beat and presented by 4 boys, the oldest of whom was about 21. This lot are about the same age as, some actually younger than, McFly but they're not bubblegum pop-rock. The vocalist had, still has, the quintessential rock voice that completely belies his age. He grunts and wails in exactly the right places, a master of timing; Sinatra with a strut. The drummer was aha...rock solid; the bassist was only 20 when the band folded but was already a jobbing club musician at 13. The guitarist had a devastatingly effective economy of style and a delicious vibrato that could fell trees at 20 paces. Sadly he also possessed a propensity for self medication that meant he didn't even make the traditional rock and roll check-out of 27, choosing instead to cark it on a plane at 25 on his way to a reunion. The dirty stop-out. For four or so years across the top of the 60s not many bands could top these.

Have you got 20 minutes? Ladies and Gentlemen, turn it up and sit back. Free.

Fire and Water

I'll be Creepin'

Mr Big

and if you insist,

All Right Now


And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be buggering off for a few days. I might drop the odd comment here and there but there'll be no postings for the next week from Wednesday as I'm going to stamp my carbon footprint on the North Atlantic on the way down to Marrakech for a few days of trying to get our lives back together. I promise to switch more lights off to make up for it.

5 Vegetable peelings:

Blogger Phil said...

Indeed - what a band, (although I still feel that Frankie Miller had a better voice)
Have a great trip on the Marrakech Express (showing my age again!)- lucky man (I was going to say 'bugger'but I don't know how to do that crossing out trick) I'm sure that you've earned it!
Take Care.....

6:56 am  
Anonymous Sharon J said...

We'll be at Gatwick tomorrow!

I'd forgotten that song "Marrakech Express. What is it? The express, I mean? Some kind of train? From where? Can you still go on it?

8:34 pm  
Blogger Pamela said...

Best of luck on putting your life back together, m'dear. I'm green with envy that you are able to travel. Someone should have warned me that giving birth to a litter would keep me permanently tied to the house. :)

4:46 pm  
Blogger Dyna Girl said...

Hurry back!

10:52 pm  
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8:52 pm  

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