Author Archives: dannyneill71gmailcom

Old Fruit

Old Fruit 2nd May 2025

Genesis – The Musical Box

As a new feature for this website and as a companion piece for the half a dozen Fresh Juice offerings of new music, Old Fruit is a selection of half a dozen older music clips presented here because they either have some current relevance, they are newly discovered archive material or simply that I just like them a lot and want to share. As is the case with this super high quality picture of Genesis in 1974, performing their epic ‘Musical Box’ number for the TV cameras, capturing Peter Gabriel in a moment where his theatrical stage craft was perfectly pitched. It is fair to say that by the end of 1974 his ideas were over stretching a little and fellow band members would complain that costumes and the focus on visuals were over shadowing the music. But equally, they probably would not have won the attention they enjoyed in the early part of the seventies without Gabriel’s weird aura but whatever, it retains a curious eccentric English charm on show to full effect here…

Crowded House – Distant Sun

There have been many songwriters who benefit from comparisons to either Lennon or McCartney but its the ones that get favourable mentions in the same breath as Lennon & McCartney that are the ones to pay special attention to. Neil Finn of Crowded House is one such performer and he has written many hit singles, some like ‘Weather With You’ or ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ shine brightly but ‘Distant Sun’ is truly one of the best even though it slides a little under the radar by comparison. The way it pulls in a spoonful of McCartney melodicism and sprinkles a pinch of Lennon angst is really quite powerful…

The Roches – Mr. Sellack

This three sibling combo were, especially during the eighties, one of the most vital acts on the folk scene. They released albums, some of which (including the 1979 self-titled release that this song is taken from) were produced by Robert Fripp, that would almost unanimously get healthy critical receptions but underwhelm in terms of sales. A travesty really for, as this clip so vividly demonstrates, they were capable of hitting spectacular three part ranges vocally and their songs had a natural lyrical flare, wit and bite. The Roches were a folkin’ phenomenon alright…

Question Mark & The Mysterians – 96 Tears

Question Mark was the stage alter ego of Rudy Martinez and his band, also named after a 1957 Japanese science fiction film of the same name, scored a US number one hit with this their debut single released on the Pa-Go-Go Records label. It has equally been identified as an early influence on the punk scene as much as it has been associated with the Nuggets driven garage rock scene that, like Northern Soul, would start to catch an identity for its genre only when compilations started putting together similarly styled collections under the ‘garage’ banner in the seventies and beyond. Unlike many records that would become garage and psych collectables, this one was actually pretty popular and well known so it has remained an outlier, never appearing on the ‘Nuggets’ series for example. Whatever, it’s a garage psych classic from 1966 so just dig it!

Link Wray – Rumble

Sadly there is no actual 1958 footage that I can find of Link Wray performing his instrumental classic the year it came out, but this 1974 live clip is still pretty amazing. The thunderous crash that introduced this number originally lays to waste any claim sixties acts like The Kinks or Led Zeppelin can make to having invented Heavy Metal, it was already there in the aggressive playing and amped up grungy sound of Link Wray. And look at this film, witness that gum chewing strut, he knew it too!

Roberta Flack – Compared To What

This was the first track on the debut album by Roberta Flack and talk about a statement of intent. Obviously she would end her career with a pair of classic songs that she’ll forever be associated with but this one, for me, best brings the essence of Roberta. It is a sensational fusion of jazz, funk and soul and where the lyric talks of making it real, well look no further, it is all in this piece of film from 1970. Eyes shut, head swaying, totally lost and transported in the performance and the song, it does not get any more real than this!

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Monthly Playlists

May 2025 Playlist

Are tribute bands somehow still beyond the pale? Are they still something of a guilty pleasure, that is if you pay any attention to them at all? Still an area of the live music scene that appears to not attract any critical word space or analysis and is maybe even a bit of a joke in some cases. Are an Oasis tribute band nothing more than a vehicle for lads in casual Adidas sports wear and limited music ability to stand on stage and shi-iiii-ne a little? Is a Robbie Williams tribute act performing to a backing tape nothing more than an attention seeking karaoke dude with an ego that requires a bit too much kneading? Does the world really need a Coldplay tribute band when the real thing are perfectly capable of occupying enough space on the circuit with plentiful coma-inducing corporate arena textbook shenanigans to keep the estate agents and mobile phone franchisee shop owners topped up with their annual musical night out? These attractions have their place I guess and as long as I am nowhere near them, no problem. Personally, the world of tribute acts has given me nothing more than a bit of light relief when the Counterfeit Stones came on at Guilford ’98 Festival and an occasional bit of Rock ‘n’ Roll frugging fun when chancing upon a decent fifties style rockabilly act or such like.

Which brings me to the reason I have been thinking about this lately, namely there now being a lot of music that I love with zero chance of ever hearing performed live unless it is in the hands of a tribute act or covers band. As a sixteen-year-old Peter Gabriel fan in 1988 I had dug into his solo work to the point of completeness when one day I found a compilation album called ‘Rock Theatre’ by Genesis.” It featured a front cover image of Peter in a baffling globule decorated green monster outfit trying to position a microphone in the general vicinity of his mouth on some unidentified early seventies concert stage and looked appealing enough for my next avenue of exploration, the Peter Gabriel fronted 1969 – 1975 era of Genesis, to begin. Ultimately this particular chamber of doors would lead me to many other progressive landmarks and collectable obscurities from the era, but it has always been those early Genesis albums, probably because of the heightened and impressionable time of life that they arrived, which would endure and remain lifelong favorites with me.

So last month I noticed in the local Cambridge listings that the highly regarded, long established, Genesis tribute act The Musical Box were playing the Corn Exchange with a recreation of the 1972-73 how that resulted in the 1973 album ‘Genesis Live’ and I found myself itching to go. I still, weirdly, felt the need to play it down amongst people I know and did not invite anyone to attend the gig with me, not that I knew anybody who would have wanted to. But I have never heard any of this material played live, solo Gabriel will not go anywhere near it, and my relationship with these songs / concept pieces is now over thirty-five years old. Not only that but the visual aspect was a drawer too, by the time of this tour Genesis, with four of the five band members remaining seated at all times, had let Peter unleash his theatrical leanings so the show had strong visual and lighting elements. Modest by today’s standards admittedly but I really wanted to, if only just once, get a taste for what the early Genesis live experience must have been like. And The Musical Box did deliver, I had a wonderful night near the back of a large venue that was, impressively, close to sold out.

My hope before the show was for it to be primarily about the music with little cheapening the experience by scripted repro ad-libs but my hopes were dashed on that front. There is a moment on that live album where Mike Rutherford, pre-song, makes a couple of noises on his bass pedal and Gabriel quick-wittedly got a laugh with a comment about it being a bass pedal solo. The Musical Box recreate that moment too, which I kind of didn’t need them to do although I can accept they are merely pursuing as exacting a portrayal of those original gigs as possible. I do think the long-term answer is to move away from the photocopying aspect of these shows and focus more on honestly interpreting the material for a present-day audience. When Cat Power played the Albert Hall reciting the same set-list as Bob Dylan had played there in 1966, one audience member tried to help out with the famous “Judas” heckle, which just inspired a weary groan from the performer. Still, the best sequence of the Musical Box gig might have been after the completion of the original concert recital, which they acknowledged is a little short, continuing to play a sequence of 1971-72 deep cuts which, freed a little from the re-enactment shackles, made for a wonderful section of thoughtfully played and sung progressive music. Since I went to the show I have mentioned it to others who, gradually, have come out of the woodwork and confessed to also enjoying a tribute act or two, the Australian Pink Floyd being one that seems to get frequently mentioned so who knows, maybe that will be on my list a little further down the line? First up though, one of my best loved folk singers of today is touring a show playing the music of Sandy Denny which arrives in Cambridge in June for which, especially given the positive notices that I have heard so far, I will say out loud, my appetite is whetted and I truly cannot wait.

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Record Shop Top Picks

Dory Previn – One A.M. Phonecalls

By the time Dory Previn emerged as a devastatingly raw and emotive singer-songwriter of a singular grain in the seventies she was already in her mid-forties with a trunk load of life trauma spinning in her head. She had cut her musical teeth in the sixties alongside then husband Andre Previn writing lyrics on motion picture soundtrack pieces (for which they received several Academy Award nominations) but it was after their split that the solo acoustic style in vogue at the time became her forte. Her music was raw and real, perhaps a little too much for some, which may account for her criminal lack of commercial recognition before or since, as she dealt not just with the fall out of her Andre split but also childhood abuse and her own mental health. That her recipe was always topped off with a glittering Hollywood, musical-like melodic flare only serves to make her music all the more appealing and guarantees that Dory is forever a wonderful musical surprise in waiting for the uninitiated. This album is a 1977 compilation of highlights from her solo releases and a very good condition vinyl pressing on UAR records is available right now at our shop https://www.discogs.com/seller/Fruit_Tree_Records/profile

Despite there not being a large amount of Dory Previn film clips available, I have found two filmed performances of a brace of songs that appear on One A.M. Phonecalls here:

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Record Shop Top Picks

Lee Morgan – The Sidewinder

Jazz trumpeter Lee Morgan’s 1964 album on the Blue Note has remained one of the foundation LP’s in the classic Jazz labels catalogue. Even at the time, the title track achieved some unexpected crossover success in the pop and R&B charts thanks to the relentless hard shuffle of the rhythm and the hook heavy lead trumpet lines. This was heading in the direction of funk for sure, so much so that a few years later the James Brown band would often lift directly from the main riff that remains the backbone of the tune. Of course Blue Note during this golden period had many examples of groove based pieces ensuring these records were a fertile hunting ground when, decades later, the Acid Jazz scene were crate digging for samples. Lee Morgan himself would make several other albums in the sixties as a bandleader, top of the pile for me being ‘Search For The New Land’ as well as contributing often the most tasty parts on records as part of John Coltrane’s or Wayne Shorter’s bands and not forgetting his pivotal parts in Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. Lee’s untimely death in 1972, shot in a club he was performing at by his live-in girlfriend, robbed the Jazz scene of a talent whose work has not aged one bit; anyone taking a dive into the Blue Note label or hard jazz and bebop in general can do a lot worse than start with the work of Lee Morgan. A lovely 2020 Audiophile Blue Note pressing of The Sidewinder album is currently available in our shop https://www.discogs.com/seller/Fruit_Tree_Records/profile

The two clips I have are firstly audio of The Sidewinder track itself and secondly, some quality film footage of Morgan in action in the mid sixties as part of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers…

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Fresh Juice

Fresh Juice 28th April 2025

Echolalia – In The Pub

To mark the regular return of this sites Fresh Juice feature, I would ideally have liked to follow the tradition of sourcing the best video clips to represent the song choice but for this, I also wanted to return with something that has a bit of punch and this certainly has that. Echolalia are Spencer Cullum, Andrew Combs, Dominic Billet, Jason Lehning, Eli Beaird, Jordan Lehning and Juan Solorzano and their debut album is a thing of pastoral beauty and strong songwriting, with each of the four writers among the collective getting an equal portion of the album track space. But tucked away right at the close of the record is this hilariously sparky hidden treasure. Quite out of sync with the remainder of the album, this is reminiscent of a mockney Britpop classic, all boozed up geezerish chat that brilliantly captures the alcoholic fog of an afternoon in a spit and sawdust old English ale house. Maybe its best explained by Spencer Cullum, who for all his current residential status as a Tennessean was actually born and raised in Romford. If that is his voice to the forefront of this track, that kind of explains it all really. Let’s get emotional.l.l.l Terry!!!!

Pulp – Spike Island

Talking of Britpop, this a welcome return from some veterans of the era. Pulp have reformed and are set to release their first new album in 24 years and there is something that feels rather good about this one. It could be that the vast majority of nineties indie band resurrections rarely bring anything to enhance their legacy, more often merely adding fuel to the detractors argument that Britpop was a musically backward looking, conservative misstep. But for all that I can see their point, that is not how I remember it thirty years ago. I was rather swept up in the waves of optimism splashing in from the likes of Blur, Supergrass and the Charlatans. That unfiltered ambition Oasis spouted I got right behind, I wanted all that bland generic boyband shit shoulder barged out of the pop charts by acts writing great pop songs. I remember a time when the radio was reliably peppered with a drip feed of memorable tunes; I am inclined to think Pulp have revived just that on ‘Spike Island’. This is a song on regular radio rotation right now and every play grows on me a little more, just as a killer pop song should. It makes me feel Britpop is ripe for a reassessment, if people think its legacy is merely laying a platform for a band like Coldplay to exist then think again, the industry built the Coldplay monstrosity, Britpop’s incubation was from a far more musically inspired place as we are brilliantly reminded here with Pulp

The Pale White – Final Exit

The Pale White are set to release their ‘The Big Sad’ album, a record that the band themselves say looked like it might not come out for a time. We should be gratified they did find a way to set sail on this ship. Their sound may be out of step with that of a new rock band in 2025 but the feeling of being outsiders they project, something which is heavily emphasized in both this song and video, is offset by some wonderfully inviting and invigorating music. They are not quite a repro of the past even though those late sixties reference points are audible, neither are they a one dimensional rockist assault despite a tendency to grab hold of you and wrestle your senses to the floor until they submit to The Pale White energy. There’s something happening here…

Ty Segall – Another California Song

An artist like Ty Segall makes the others all look like also-rans, especially in terms of his creative work ethic. He has yet another new album coming out on the 30th May called ‘Possession’ and is just about to complete a series of solo acoustic dates which have kept him occupied for most of the past three months, but he won’t be out of view for long as from 5th July he’s off on a full electric band tour that will take care of the largest chunk of the summer. As can be heard here, even when he’s playing with just an acoustic guitar, there is still a kind of liquid energy pumping through every second of his playing and he continues to knock out good songs too. Could he be a little too prolific perhaps? I am as guilty as anyone of paying less attention to an artist who is always producing over one making a rarer, occasional appearance. But ignore Ty Segall and it’s you, the listener, who misses out. You have been warned…

Villagers – I Want What I Don’t Need

Taken from the most recent Villagers album ‘That Golden Time’ which has been out for a while but is being toured right now and well worth investigating by anyone with an ear for acoustic singer-songwriting played by a genuine craftsman. Villagers are the performing name for Conor O’Brien who has been playing under this banner, following the break up of his first band The Immediate, for fifteen years now. In that time he has deservedly won acclaim for the economical poetic flare in his lyric writing in addition to the delicate, refined touch and tone of his guitar playing. Both are on full display here in a song that is a potent reflection on the impulses that drive an individual to passionately achieve the gratification of desires that will ultimately be rendered meaningless whilst acknowledging he will go after them all the same. This is song composing as a very real art form.

Ringo Starr – Look Up

We will end this return edition of Fresh Juice with one more welcome return to the saddle from a much loved pop cowboy with the title track from his latest record. Obviously I have a massive Beatles bias which runs through all my music writing but I have never really had the blinkers on, especially where the solo albums of Ringo are concerned. But this one, with the production muscle and co-writing chops of T-Bone Burnette in its arsenal as well as a cast of top drawer country and bluegrass names like Billy Strings, Molly Tuttle and Alison Krauss among the credits, is credibly being hailed as Ringo’s best ever solo album. Even on the gushing vinyl liner notes written by Elvis Costello, the suggestion is put forth that the ‘Look Up’ album is the natural follow up to ‘Beatles For Sale’. Well that particular claim might not stick but this is as strong a selection of songs that Ringo has ever sung as a solo artist and how great is it that we can still hear a Beatle in this fine a voice in 2025? Did the Beatles era every really end? This one argues persuasively the magic is still alive in ’25….

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Monthly Playlists

April 2025 Playlist

Before embarking on a house move (which is the reason this monthly playlist post is so late by the way) I indulged a musical itch I have been dying to scratch for many years attending a Friday night show at Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club in London. As a jazz lover whose appreciation and journey into the music form now feels perpetual, this has long felt like the ultimate place to sit back and soak up an evening of the ever-progressing journey that arguably remains Americas greatest contribution to world and musical culture. Ronnie Scott’s has of course been mythologized thanks to its impressive, decades long, cast of legendary jazz names that have walked those modest boards and the kudos that is picked up over the years with documentaries and the sense of jazz establishment permanence it exudes. I have seen those old pieces of footage too, tantalizing images of thespians and faces from the art world sitting amongst the crowd in a smoky, dimly lit, sixties / seventies ambience. And best of all, with inevitable concessions to some appropriate, tasteful maintenance and gentle refurbishing over the years, the place still resonates with the same hazy mid-century orange, underground after-hours club vibe.

I went to see John Scofield, a real deal in terms of catching an artist whose legendary jazz credentials stand up to scrutiny and this could genuinely be described as a rare club appearance. His electric guitar playing was indeed mesmerizing likewise the interplay between Scofield’s lead and the bass and drum support from his trio ensemble. Better still, the seats me and my partner were shown to at the side of stage left felt like they placed us in the heart of the action as we bore witness to John seemingly picking the set list out of thin air, calling out the tunes to the band as he played. And to top the experience off, there were even one or two famous faces in attendance, most notably the actor Simon Callow propping up the bar in relaxed off-duty actor splendor as he delighted in the jazz fireworks sparkling from John Scofield’s guitar. Overall, this Friday night at Ronnie Scott’s gave me the jazz experience I had long craved but nevertheless, I do still have a gripe.

After the main set of the evening there was due to be another late-night set which, as ticket holders, we were entitled to remain in the club for. The itinerary sees a DJ play for at least an hour while a substantial proportion of the Scofield crowd leaves the club and a new crowd are slowly admitted. Nothing wrong with any of this obviously, I can even accept the need for the over officiousness shown to us by the waiters when we thought we’d take a little wander up to the bar before being pounced on and informed that if we abandoned our seats we might lose them altogether. OK, club rules observed. The problem was the music pumping from the DJ booth. If you have ever had a gig going experience tarnished by the house PA playing wholly unconnected music the second the final notes of the onstage musician have faded you might relate to my annoyance. If you have just got lost in a deep live experience, in the moments after it has ended one surely needs to allow the after-impressions to spin and settle inside your head for a time? The sudden invasion of unrelated, generic background music has the effect of a disinfectant being wiped across your audio senses and instantly kills any lasting sensations.

That exact same thing had happened the night before actually (yes I had been on a little musical road trip) at the conclusion of a dissonant John Cale set at the De La Warr Pavilion at Bexhill-On-Sea. He had encored with a free-flowing run through of the Velvet Underground classic ‘I’m Waiting For The Man,’ a brilliant fusion of improvised character-acting lyrics and foundation shaking piano stabs that concluded an evening in the company of an art-rock titan on a real high. So, what piped through the in house PA the second the lights went up? Bob Marley, not someone I feel the need to critique negatively but in no way connected to what the audience had just witnessed, it felt like whoever made the choice did a quick internet search on John Cale, decided he was a 1970s act before consulting a streaming service for popular seventies music. Totally irrelevant to the evenings program that had just preceded. I felt the exact same irritation with the DJ that followed John Scofield. His bland, 4/4 repetitive beat loving sound instantly robbed Ronnie Scott’s of its identity transforming the joint into just another central London Friday night club and not a particularly good one at that. No doubt the DJ in question would argue that his set was a jazz centric feast, but I was not convinced, the odd suggestion of saxophone or trumpet did not save this from the middle-ground-mass pandering tedium I felt assaulted by.

So, by the evenings end, some time in the drunken early hours of the Saturday morning, my partner and I had riffed extensively on the horror that is predictable, uninspired electronic dance music invading and mostly ruining too many public situations nowadays. My point is its such a lazy choice, it is a cowardly option too made either by people fearful of unpopularity or just too narrow an awareness of all that music has to offer. There is, as I have said many times, over a hundred years of recorded music to select from now, there really is no excuse for opting to play anything crap. By the end of the night, we had formed a new collective called CLUBBED and were hatching plans to assault social media looking to swell our numbers, you never know we might even be a silent majority. CLUBBED is the Collective Lacerating Ubiquitous Bland Boring Electronic Dance. As the later morning arrived and sobriety fought its way back to the table, we realized the name is possibly a bit wordy. Then it dawned on us the whole idea was a bit rubbish really. Enjoy the playlist…

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Monthly Playlists

March 2025 Playlist

I cannot claim to have worried too much about the impact AI might have on my musical world. I trust my own ears to recognize the authenticity in older music and I would argue my tastes in newer releases tend to lead me towards the more organic sounds played by legitimate musicians and even in the realms of more electronic sounds, there is usually a human element; a creative hand controlling the technology that will draw me in. I believe that in the same way anyone paying a modicum of attention could spot a fake or a poor photocopy of a hit on one of those tacky seventies cash-in Top Of The Pops albums, not to mention a synthesized eighties original artist re-recording of a sixties hit (and there are far too many of them floating about) a mile off, so could I immediately identify a piece of music that has been made with AI.

But I was wrong. Late last year I found a couple of tracks by an artist that ended up featuring in my monthly playlists. I liked them for their retro soul sound and the attention-grabbing precision of the lyrical observations. The cover art of these releases came with an all-too authentic looking vintage vinyl presentation, looking for all the world like cleverly detailed throwbacks even right down to the fonts and the way the covers adopted that seventies trope of visually representing the title with the sleeve image. The name of the band was Almost Vinyl and I featured them twice, not being too put off by the total lack of any biographical information about the artist, I just assumed this was probably some enigmatic collective managing to maintain an air of mystery much like SAULT have and, thus far, continue to cloud themselves with.

My discovery and theory that this is the work of AI is still unconfirmed (although a google search including the words Almost Vinyl and AI seemed to support my suspicion) but I got to wondering after reading about a worrying new trend on Spotify. Apparently the music streamers business model sees them still paying a large percentage in licensing for every track streamed and recently, in order to push themselves towards greater profitability, successfully by all accounts, they have started creating their own tracks by fake artists using AI technology and including them subtly and yet consistently within their curated genre playlists. The Almost Vinyl songs would indeed sit unobtrusively inside a Retro Soul playlist and not jump out to anyone as something illegitimate.

Luckily whenever I find a new interesting release I do, especially now this has cropped up, dig around for any information about them, up coming live dates or festival appearances especially, so I do not expect to be caught out by AI fakery too often, if ever, going forward. That said, I cannot quite get my head around what this all means. Does the lead vocal on those tunes I enjoyed, ‘I’m Back On My Bullshit’ in particular, actually belong to a human being because it sounds for all the world like an off-the-rails soul veteran straining the last juice out of his engine before descending into another long night of over-refreshment? Are any of those analogue sounding instruments played by anybody? Does the audio actually feature any instruments in the traditional sense? Does any of this matter when I enjoy the end product without knowing anything about it? I suppose it does because after all, it was the spark of human creativity and sonic exploration that brought these sounds into existence in the first place and ultimately, even if the technology has advanced to previously unimaginable sophistication, a copy is still a copy and a fake remains a fake. The search for new talented musical creatives will never die even if sometimes it feels like scientific progress can look to take the fun out of everything. It does not work, I mean for example, many people still appreciate the experience of playing music on vinyl even though we are in the fifth decade after the arrival of CD and all that followed, music lovers still relish that needle drop and the unbeatable vibration of deep grooved sound. There are many such examples in the Fruit Tree Records Discogs store https://www.discogs.com/seller/Fruit_Tree_Records/profile right now with AI fakes nowhere to be seen…

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Monthly Playlists

February 2025 Playlist

Johann Sebastian Bach’s ‘Toccata And Fugue In D Minor, BWV 565 Toccata’ opens a three-disc set of Bach’s Organ Works played by Karl Richter that I have been listening to. As far as pieces of classical music go, this is as famous a piece that you could find even if its full title may not be naturally tripping off the tongue, you can be certain that everyone has heard it at some point. It has drama, a suggestion of horror and whether presented as an attention-grabbing opener or an explosive interlude, this is music that leaves its mark. I would recommend a deep dive into Bach’s organ music; it will realign your audio head with its interweaving complexities and mind mashing progressions that somehow make sense of the confusion and in time resolves into a satisfying immersive experience. You do not need to unpick the mathematical nuts and bolts of how this music was put together, or played so fluently, to wash yourself with its wonder and magnificence. Yes, it demands the attention of the listener but that is no bad thing, music is relegated to background wallpaper too much as far as I’m concerned.

The last time that the more intellectual and long form sounds of classical and jazz sat with acceptance as part of the mainstream audio menu was probably the late sixties and early seventies. This was the time when prog bands would routinely dip into the classical canon to fuse and reimagine the music in a louder, electric context. Today prog rock has mutated into something that holds very little resemblance to the early ambitions of the much-derided form. New forms of prog sound to me closer to a darker, often gothic, heavy metal; still conceptual and open to long form ideas but nevertheless unrecognisable to the prog rock bands that gave the format its name. People like Genesis, Pink Floyd, ELP and King Crimson had classical music, even if only in their schooling, as a natural part of their DNA and so lengthy compositions where the singer would disappear through instrumental fugues and reprises were far more commonplace. The fusing of these more ambitious ideas in parallel to merging of the jazz worlds improvisational and far-out excursions was central to the new ground being broken in music of the period.

Even John Peel, as part of his journalistic sideline, would be seen writing about Proms concerts at the Albert Hall, enthusing about the expression of a violin solo as much as he noted with discomfort the elitism and tangible snobbery in attitudes. That is most likely the reason so much that happens in the classical world can seem disconnected from the mainstream, that feeling of requiring a degree of musical education to get inside can be off putting, I guess? Yes, there are always attempts to make the two compatible; in recent years Pete Tong has been, I assume successfully as it is still going, presented modern dance music in an orchestral setting but personally, I do not hear enough happening in much of the EDM style to reel me in. Go back and listen to a gorgeously pastoral flute or piano solo on a Caravan album for example, or a Bach referencing lightning fingered guitar pattern by Robert Fripp and you can see the pathways and sense the doors opening to the centuries of other musical progressions that have gone before. It is such an exciting world to dive into, but you must not do it casually. Go all in and free your mind. Similarly, this playlist starts with Bach before driving through pop, rock, indie, alt, soul, r&b, folk, psych and prog before ending over four hours later in jazzier realms, think of it as a long form journey in sound…

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Monthly Playlists

January 2025 Playlist

It seems like there was a lot of mess around me at the end of 2024, not literal mess as that is always there, more like life mess that needed wading through before I could get the new year started. So, this monthly playlist is a little later in the month than usual but, I am happy to report, it is no less lovingly curated. A lot of my working day is solitary and offers plentiful opportunity for listening; albums and playlists come out top, but I never lose my love of radio and nowadays podcasts too can be great company to fill an hour or two. You can find pods that cater to most musical tastes presented by people with varying degrees of personality, enthusiasm and knowledge, elements that do not always go together. Musically one of my favourite shows is ‘Discord & Rhyme’, an albums themed podcast where a large group of America based music fans rotate their cast for each episode according to taste, pick a record to discuss then go through it track by track with a lead host steering the talk, pulling in clips and background information. It is a brilliant set up wherein the genius lies in how each contributor will have a differing perspective on the song in question. Often, where one of the Discord & Rhymers will eloquently enthuse about a tune the next will state they cannot see any merit in it whatsoever and give a passionate takedown.

They are a respectful crew, no one ever takes offence at another one’s dislike of their favourite artist and the gentle ribbing that takes place feels sincere, not staged. For more details on each individual presenter and episodes go to the Discord & Rhyme website https://discordpod.com/ but the two I’d like to give special mention to are John McFerrin and Amanda Rogers; whenever I encounter an episode with either of these contributing I know I am going to be in for the duration. John is like that affable, eccentric uncle who spends most of his life locked away in a study with ‘do not disturb’ sellotaped to the door. However, the man’s knowledge is seriously deep, his love of Prog Rock is open eared (he knows all too well where that genre goes wrong) and his ability to make connections from the worlds of classical music and jazz, pulling in relevant sound clips and audio examples, frequently open up new doors of musical exploration for listeners like myself. The episodes this podcast did on King Crimson were exceptional, really deepening my appreciation of the band and sending me off into unexplored territories with recommendations that located appropriate entry points to the maze that is that bands live recordings. By contrast, Amanda Rogers is a far more emotive presenter, often endearingly sneering in the face of music I love (check out the Velvet Underground episode) and bafflingly loyal to the Moody Blues whose output, to my ears, can be patchy. Out of the blue she will react to something, like when becoming genuinely tearful talking about a Traveling Wilburys song, in a touching way that tells you her relationship with music is relatably like your own.

At the other end of my regular podcast listens is a show I return to for the infuriated anger and jocular pleasure it instigates in equal measure. David Hepworth and Mark Ellen’s podcast ‘Word In Your Ear’ offers conversations between the two on a wide range of music culture hot topics and sometimes amusing anecdotes from their illustrious careers in music journalism. Hepworth and Ellen have been there all my life. From the days of my early teens when they were behind Smash Hits, to their involvement with magazines like Q and Mojo, their TV presenting roles at Live Aid and The Old Grey Whistle Test to their 2000’s stewardship of the very readable Word Magazine, if I was reading the music press there was a good chance either one of these two were involved somewhere along the line. My problem, other than the vomit inducing smugness of their presentation and the way they are constantly patting each other on the back for the “really quite extraordinary” quality of the others observation, is the way they both retain the basic templates of editor in chief. These two will never let the facts get in the way of an eye catching, readership grabbing front page headline and they boil every single subject they tackle down to this dimension. They go in depth on absolutely nothing but always find an angle from which they can weave a hot narrative; this results in headline statements like ‘The Age Of Mystique Is Dead’, after which the chat failed to acknowledge how a contemporary band like SAULT (of whom so little is actually known) could have less mystery around their identity, or ‘Robert Fripp Has Won Rock ‘n’ Roll’ which then neglects to explore any details on how Fripp has built an enviable career without appearing to bow to compromise at any juncture.

The primary villain is Hepworth, who talks with the not-up-for-debate authority of an editor who has decided what the angle is with no expectation that everyone will not fall in line, the print deadline on the horizon. He recently ranted about the ‘Beatles 64’ movie, describing how he had to stop it after 15 minutes wanting to throw missiles at the TV. His issue was simply that, as far as Hepworth believed, that the story of the Beatles first US visit in 1964 should be a before and after story, painting us a monochrome world before the band appeared on Ed Sullivan and the explosion of technicolor pop culture and all that erupted immediately after the Beatles invaded every US home via the television screen. Hepworth wanted a narrative based film with that big penetrative moment but what he got was more documentary with talking heads, most of whom he deemed irrelevant, stitching the footage together. But in making this argument he conveniently ignored that the backbone of the picture was to upgrade and re-present the access all areas footage captured by Albert and David Maysles and stitch it together with context and historical insight. I felt the film was both a delight and succeeded in placing the Beatles bullseye strike to the heart of US mainstream culture informatively and entertainingly and even the footage of Smokey Robinson performing ‘Yesterday’ on US TV, which Hepworth was apoplectic with rage over, was appropriate within the framing of the film. Still, he got his ‘Hepworth In Beatle Movie Fury’ moment out of it for that episode, so I guess that is all that mattered.

In the past I have heard Hepworth go for a ‘Bob Dylan Is Not A Poet’ attention grabber which, again, sounds to me like a man adopting a posture rather than an intellectual positing a valid view. His basic premise was that poets are cheats; they will take a rhyme because it fits the pace and scheme of a verse regardless of whether it has poetic meaning. Well, for one you cannot claim that a poet would never do the same when constructing a verse, like integrity always rules in the world of poetry creation (nonsense) and secondly, anyone looking to argue that there is no poetic quality in the lyric writing of Bob Dylan has instantly backed themselves into a corner of irrelevance as far as I’m concerned. You might as well have ‘I don’t know what I’m talking about’ tattooed to your forehead. It is just hollering for effect, like those people who claim the Beatles are overrated. Ironically, David Hepworth does have one of my favourite Bob Dylan anecdotes from the time he got to interview him in the eighties, in fact both him and Mark Ellen do have a bucketful of fantastic stories to tell from their time circling the epicenter of popular music culture. It is this that keeps me coming back to them I suppose, that and the unspoken pleasure, as David tasted with the Beatles movie, of wanting to venomously hurl objects at your speakers. This month’s playlist features seventy-five tracks from 2024 all previously unfeatured in the playlists of the past year. You can guarantee Hepworth and Ellen will not have listened to anything on it, but they will have fashioned an interesting thought on Rod Stewarts barnet and why hairstyles in Rock ‘n’ Roll are more important than the music…

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Monthly Playlists

December 2024 Playlist

I think the past month might go down as the juncture in my musical journey when I finally started to love King Crimson. It is certainly not the month when I started listening to them, that began at least five years ago when I began collecting the remastered anniversary CD re-issues of their original late sixties, early seventies output. True to my usual form when investigating a back catalogue, I tried to go chronologically starting with the iconic sleeved debut album ‘In The Court Of The Crimson King’ which, considering its reputation as a classic not only in Prog Rock but Rock music in general, made for a rather marmite introduction. The mellotron override and orchestral flourishes were all familiar to a man who had spent decades exploring Prog’s more flowery, classically ambitious and pastoral early seventies landmarks but the unmistakable sound of terror riding a wave of borderline deranged madness was, to say the least, a little disturbing. No wonder early band members would quit King Crimson because they just could not take making music with so much abrasive aggression anymore. Not only that but through all the albums I listened to, running from that first outing up to 1974’s ‘Starless And Bible Black’, the sense of a band struggling to find themselves would return frequently. And if Crimson themselves could not settle on what they were, how on earth was the listener going to stand a chance?

But then there are enough inspired moments in all those records to delight the senses and send a confused yet stimulated listener returning for more. For example 1970’s ‘In The Wake Of Poseidon’ can sound like a pale replica of 1969’s now classic debut album in places, but then the genius that is ‘Cat Food’ crawls into view and suddenly King Crimson play and deliver like the band we always read about on paper, all lyrical flare and seductive sonics punching holes in walls with a discordant background rumble never too far from the surface. And so, it was this month that I finally came to listen and absorb properly the second Crimson album of 1974, the indisputably superior ‘Red’. This is absolutely the record where everything came together, where the jagged edged attack of Robert Fripp’s guitar work is weaved into shape by the intricate thunder of Bill Brufords’ drumming while John Wetton on bass and vocals gave the band a front man capable of leading the vocal without ever troubling Fripp’s status as leader and creative focal point. Fripp is and remains an arch contrarian with a singular, incorruptible artistic vision who will jettison absolutely any personal friendship he may have with any band member if it serves the music better. It is almost too predictable that in the immediate aftermath of ‘Red’ being released in 1974, Fripp would disband King Crimson, not returning to this musical identity for another seven years. Much like that other great and unpredictable musical independent Bob Dylan, Fripp has little interest in arriving at his destination, all too aware that the music can only remain relevant if you can maintain a constant state of becoming. The genius occurs only in creation, not in the realization or the arrival. And sometimes in life, you have to deconstruct everything you might have put together in order to start building again. The problems arise when others struggle with change, but that in itself is no reason not to follow through with what your heart and soul are telling you.

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