CELEBRATION(S): CHOCOLATE GIRL/DEACON BLUE

Celebrations is the brand name for a selection of miniature chocolate bars over here. And, for all I know, elsewhere, but given it being the time of year when such abound, so surely worth a mention. From the house of Mars, so you can expect small versions of the ubiquitous Mars bar, Bounty, Topic and Snickers. Arguably better than the old school alternatives, Cadbury's Roses or Quality Street, originally by the long extinct choc firm, Mackintosh, which were just fairly random chocolate box offerings, where, if unlucky, every one chosen was either a sickly "creme" or a rock hard toffee. I was always unlucky. At least with Celebrations you know what you are getting.

Unfortunately I am no great fan, pre-  or post-gall bladder, of chocolate, perhaps from all those bloody cremes, so that is all I have to say on the subject, beyond an excuse to roll out some appropriately themed songs for your delectation.

Mars Bonfire is the immaculate nom de guerre of the lead guitarist of the Sparrows, whom nobody remembers. However, through his brother, also a Sparrow, becoming a drummer for Steppenwolf, he got to write a few songs for that band, notably their best known song, Born To Be Wild. The Sparrows we're an interesting band as they also included the later Steppenwolf singer, John Kay, and Bruce Palmer, later of Buffalo Springfield. So you could say that Mars, Eugene to his mother, got left behind, but I am sure the royalties helped prevent too much bitterness. It is a great song and it is often claimed to have invented the idea of heavy metal into music, to describe the noise of the motor bike. Nice story. Probably apocryphal.

Bounty bars always divided the playground, with few admitting to much pleasure in the eating of them. However, via the wonder of saucy advertising, certainly teenage boys were galvanised into keeping on trying. Me, I preferred the red-wrappered plain choc version, which isn't included in the Celebrations pack. The song I am unfamiliar with but, sticking with Canada, where half of Steppenwolf evolved from, so too is the performer here, Dean Brody, a Canadian. Apart from a rapper, very few songs mention bounties. It's an OK song, and includes the now more successful than the singer, Lindi Ortega, who I have seen live and enjoyed.

Of course I am not going to dabble around the net seeking a song about Snickers. Anyone with half a brain or twice a life will know these nutty monsters are really called Marathon, still baulking at the name change. Which was back in 1990. Gulp. (US readers her may be looking confused, as it was always a Snickers over that side the pond, I understand.) And, without putting me and the rest of the post under any degree of pressure, there is also a song by a Canadian band to fit the bill. Me, I never bought into the whole Rush shtick, but I do like a Snickers, if pushed and my life depended on it. (Late joke alert: you can rush a snickers, but you can't rush a marathon! Boom boom!!)

Topic? You're joking right? Closest I can get is to evoke the old joke around hazelnuts in every bite. As in, what has a hazelnut in every bite, the pillar of Mars advertising back in the day. The playground answers related more to the genus Sciuridae, better known as the squirrel. I am uncertain quite what a cat squirrel is, amongst the family of so named rodents, but a Dr Ross, a bluesman of the mid 20th century, was sufficiently moved to write a song around one. Later covered by both Cream and by Jethro Tull, I hope he got his dues. The suggestion that is was penned by Mr Trad augurs ill that he did. As far as I can tell, he had no Canadian connection, putting paid to that promise.

We are delving deeper into the carton. Twix is next out. If that makes you think of the song featured above, the chances are that you didn't even know it was a song with a life outside the 30 second TV ad for the Twix bar in the late 1980s. Yello were, possibly still are the odd Swiss electronic duo, who make Sparks, by comparison, seem mainstream in their image. And that 30 second advert is actually a 3 minute song. (Can you make it to the end?)

Maltesers are not just the sweet you can eat between meals, they are also the folk who hail from Malta, a tiny island in the mediterranean, famous for being, the island, awarded the George Cross in WW2, for their rugged defence against the would be invading forces. They have since built up a vibrant scene of internationally known artists, so the various wiki pages tell me. World famous only in Malta, methinks, but this lot seem the least inoffensive and it is quite pleasant in a dreamy way. Stalko they are called, should you wish to dig deeper, with a couple of albums to their name. (No marks for those who point out the extra e in Malteasers. Cos there isn't one. Or that Milky Way is the one you eat between meals, with Maltesers being the Chocolate? Maltesers! one)

I bet you are beginning to struggle with what else is up for grabs. Unless you read the addendum to the last para. Or Santa has already delivered you early a box of Celebrations, in which case you will know it is now into space we head, with the doughty Milky Way, another choc bar misleadingly touted as a dietary aid to weight loss in its initial entry to the market. You might gain less weight if you eat a Milky Way a day, over a Mars. I cannot guarantee the effect on your work, rest or play, or, more to the point, your dental bills. To celebrate, SWIDT, this sweetie, lets pick an obvious culprit, and sweep up some groovy pictures of the constellation along the way. The Tornadoes band famously featured the blondly quiffed Heinz Burt, who went on to invent baked beans. What a guy!

Sticking with the heavens, last on the list and last in the pack is the cloying Galaxy Caramel. Galaxy is the brand Mars use for their chocolate bar, which is the biggest competitor to the Cadbury's Dairy Milk, I would imagine, at least in the UK. (Is Hershey really chocolate? I think not.) Most of the folk I would ever buy chocolate for seem to prefer it, it being smoother. Until you put a gloop, that is, of runny toffeee into it, sweet and sticky, capable of dissolving enamel on contact. Be that as it may, lets finish up with this track, an audio-visual presentation of the point of contact between the caramel and your mouth. You will need to brush your teeth after this one, for sure.

Happy Celebrations!

THE ROAD: GOES ON FOREVER AND THE PARTY NEVER ENDS.

The mythological lure of the road has long attracted attention in way more than just musical memes. We’ll get to that in due course, but it got me thinking around the whole idea of a road trip. Like, what was the first? Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, came initially to mind, until I realised how shortsighted and narrow was my entry angle, remembering the Richard Thompson response: best songs of the millennia, or of all time, did not start with Sinatra. So that in mind, throwing out my net a bit wider, are we talking the Crusades; that was a sort of tour? Or Christ’s 40 day desert gig, did that count? I think a prime contender would have to be Ulysses, his 12 tasks and all that. Tack on the Trojan War and the tour is encroaching Dylanesque Never Ending logistics.

I could be getting carried away here, but it has an appeal. I wonder what was on his rider? And who ran the merch stall? And for all the buzz around Homer, the “official releases”, I’ll bet there were live sets and bootlegs, swapped in chariot parks, before the show. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone somewhere is still putting together a box set, the Ithaca tapes, perhaps. I’m sure I read about it on the Steve Hoffman forum.

So, as they, say. Robert Earl Keen. Whatever happened to him? Nothing bad, to be fair, as he still tours and plays, but, as with, say, Steve Forbert, so much early promise seeming never quite to be capitalised upon. From Houston, Texas, he hit the ground running in the mid 80s, with a signature stripped back sound, bluegrass style instrumentation, allied to rootsy modern folk songs, all sung in his gritty mournful moan. I loved it, and West Textures, his 2nd album was a bona fide delight. Still is, the songs rendered timeless by that old timey anchor. The song that entitles this piece is his best known song, but they all have legs. Heck, at that time, he, Lyle Lovett and Nanci Griffith seemed an insurmountable triad of potential, at whose altars I knelt, in awe. So young and so much talent.

Keen  had a particular knack for a story song, with TRGOFATPNE being the prime evidence. I alway feel the idea for such long haul yarn spinning came from Bob Dylan, Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts always coming to mind as the trigger to Keen’s muse.(I suppose, given the earlier paras written, due credit for all epics should maybe go to forbears from times long past, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, for his Charge of the Light Brigade, Longfellow  for Hiawatha, or, logically, good ol’ boy Homer himself, but the tunes have been largely lost.) The relatively simple construct, the repetition and the loping propulsive rhythm together produce a suspension of time, the story taking the fill of concentration. Keen was able to show he was no one trick pony, mind, as his next album, A Bigger Piece of Sky, four years later, in 1993, had another cracker, Jesse With the Long Hair Hanging Down. With shock, I note this barely hits 3 and 3/4 minutes, it casting a way longer shadow in my memory, but, details, schmetails, this is still a saga song, just a wee bit shorter. 

Oft seen as his high water mark, A Bigger Piece of Sky, whilst it had its moments, never quite hit my spot as had West Textures. In truth, I sort of went off him a bit after that, as somebody told him his forte might be in humorous songs, an oxymoron by any definition, at least in my book. But he has plugged away, with 20 studio recordings to his name. I gather he is about to hang up his cowboy boots, making me sad I never caught him live. Indeed, of that 80’s trio of performers, Nanci was the only one who ever seemed much to visit the UK, seeing her a host of times between then and the mid 90’s. But I did get to hear one near swansong, as Keen covered a host of his traditional influences: here is what I thought about that album.

A final thought about Keen might be to thank him not only for my beloved West Textures, but also to his enlightening me to the presence and worth of anothe songwriter, one Kevin ‘Blackie’ Farrell, himself no stranger get to the long form song. The exquisite Sonora’s Death Row, covered by Keen on West Textures, is one of his, as is another of my favourites, Mama Hated Diesels, as performed by Commander Cody’s Lost Planet Airmen. Farrell probably deserves a pice in his own right, memo to self, but it’s good to at least have the opportunity to namecheck him, until then.

May the road rise to meet you…….

Woodwinds: Jack Bruce & Wheels of Fire Again

 

purchase [Fresh Cream]

I really, honestly had not planned it so that it would so coincidental, but  .. back to Wheels of Fire because Jack Bruce was so multi-intrumental that he also played woodwinds on the album.

As a kid, my first instrument was the recorder; we had a quintet or maybe even a setext of alto, soprano and even one tenor recorders in the fanily at one point (I still have posession of my father's tenor recorder - looks like a clarinet in size - definitely not your typical school recorder)

The instrument most commonly used in the classroom setting is the soprano. Available in plastic, of course. Yamaha notes that there are 6 sizes, from sopranino down to great bass, although perhaps "down" isn't quite appropriate: the great bass is approximately the size of a human.

Although I think I can identify its presence/sound, I'll take Ginger Baker's word for it when he identifies the song where Jack Bruce plays the recorder as <Pressed Rat and Warthog>. From gingerbaker.com:

On “Pressed Rat and Wart Hog” Jack plays two basses. The second bass comes in at the end and it’s a six string. Eric’s on three times. I’m on twice with trumpet and tonette. When I played tonette, Jack played recorder.

Here's a more contemporary rendition, but there's no recorder.

Bigger Strings: Jack Bruce

 

purchase [Wheels of Fire]

I confess that I have never given much attention to the bass player. Yeah, I know that the bass and drums are critical to the ryhthm, but the paucity of notes that the bass plays belies the importance of a song's underlying structure. 

A Quora post I read recently asked "why can't you ever hear the bass?" While the question strikes me as a bit "out of it", I fear that there is some truth to the question: the bass (player) rarely gets the spotlight. And I confess it wasn't until I started digging this week, that I paid much attention to Jack Bruce. 

Musically trained as a cello player and then moving to the standing bass, Bruce moved through various groups, including time with John McLaughlin and Ginger Baker in the Graham Bond Quartet, and with John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton.

Although I owned a copy of Cream's double album Wheels of Fire as well as one of Fresh Cream, neither, particularly in comparison with Disraeli Gears did much for me. Although we generally think of Cream as a trio (Clapton, Bruce, Baker), a majority of Wheels of Fire is a quartet, with Felix Pappalardi as the fourth member (later to head off and help found Mountain with Leslie West - with whom Bruce later founded West, Bruce & Laing)

Jack Bruce, of course, is the bass player of the original trio, but he also did a lot of the lead vocals as well as writing  quite a few of the songs. He was a multi-intrumentalist and you can find videos of him playing the piano and more. On Wheels of Fire, we get Bruce and Pappalardi playing cellos, violas, bass ... but I bet you wouldn't know it unless you read the credits/liner notes. Pappalardi is playing the viola in "White Room" up top. Here, in "Passing the Time", Bruce is credited with playing the viola.

At one point in his early career, we find him playing with Charlie Watts, among others at the London Blues and Barrelhouse Club.

(IN)DEPENDENCE: ALONE AGAIN OR (?)

Shhh, can you hear that? No, me neither. Not even the sound of a dropped 'H' is assailing my ears. Which is nice, if sort of lonely. While the membership of this merry band of bloggers gets ever smaller, sorry, more select, I'm sort of wondering where my buddies are. I suspect it is summer holiday time in Tarrytown and I know Turkey is short of one of us right now, possibly explaining why I am here instead, but I could do with a hand. Or two. Mind you, this is probably the only way I can gain any sway in the year end stats.......

I love this song, as good as any a reason to give it a hammering. It came first to my ears as a wee boy, it, 'Forever Changes' by Love, being one of the few records owned by my big sister's boyfriend, later husband. (The others were 'Honky Chateau' by Elton John, 'Please to See the King' by Steeleye Span and something, possibly a 'Greatest Hits', by Cream, a good if limited selection.) I didn't take to some of the noisier tracks of 'Forever Changes' but really liked the two written by Bryan Maclean, this one and 'andmoreagain', learning this fact as I devoured the sleeve notes. To be fair, I loved it until the strings and trumpet came in, trumpet being the devil's horn to my youthful ear, only later appreciating the additions as a masterstroke. Apparently the idea of Arthur Lee, guitarist and singer on most, maybe all of the rest of the tracks, and, arguably, leader of the band, later if not necessarily then, it is the hook that has stuck over the years. Lee had reason for the upper hand at that stage, being the only musician with any great competence, the original of the song cut with Maclean's vocal and the Cutting Crew, the famed session team, on backing, much as with the Byrds initial forays into the recording studio. This apparently left Maclean in tears, with Bruce Botnick, yes, that one, the engineer, then allowing the band a second crack at it themselves, the intervening frantic rehearsals cutting the much needed mustard at the second attempt, with added harmony vocals from Lee. (Much as I have tried, I cannot find that earlier version, but Maclean did record it again, later in his career.)

It has had a few covers over the years, most tending to replicate, understandably, the trumpet. Calexico, the mariachi influenced tex-mex collective fronted by Joey Burns and John Covertino, go a whole step further and give it even more of a centrepiece. They play Cambridge Folk Festival next month in the UK, I guess mainly to promote their 2nd album with Iron & Wine, but I will be sorely disappointed if they don't play it. (I'll let you know.)

The Damned were and are punks as seen by a cartoon illustrator, a vibrant and lively force on the scene for over 40 years. Never as infamous as the Sex Pistols or as name-checked as the Clash, they were actually the frontrunners, their debut single being the first of the class of '77 to get a release, of course on Stiff records. A number of personnel changes over the years, members leaving and, sometimes, returning, the one constant has been Dave Vanian, the draculike on vocals. Their style has gradually morphed into drawing on proggier aspects, with All Again Or ushering in this period.

Finally, ignoring rather more mundane runouts, such as the Boo Radleys and Sid 'n' Suzy, a more leftfield version comes from Sara Lov, erstwhile collaborator with neo-classical/electronica artist, Dustin O'Halloran. For the soundtrack of a movie and later appearing also on a tribute to that particular film maker, Wes Anderson, it remembers just enough of the original, ahead of launching into a new and delightful space. And no trumpet. Which, oddly enough, I find myself missing. Like I am now dependent on it.

Love Calexico Damned Lov

WIne: Cream-Sweet Wine

purchase [  album ]

purchase [  album ]

For me, Fresh Cream was seminal and gound-breaking music, but mostly in hind sight. I came across Disraeli Gears before I heard Fresh Cream. By that time, Cream had already made its name, so my purchase was essentially filling in the blanks of the Cream repertoire.

Fresh Cream was Eric Clapton moving on from his roots in the Yardbirds and John Mayall. But the album established  Cream as a band to be reckoned with. We're talking mid-to-late 60s and their style of music was pushing the limits of what most people listened to (Soon to come: Jimi Hendrix, who blew it all open, way beyond run of the mill Top of the Pops, which generally would not include Hendrix and Cream until a few years later, under popular pressure)  I was there, listening, and I can attest that it was nothing like you had ever heard, Fresh Cream included. Cream (and Hendrix)  took rock to a new level.

Cream (see my last post) was one of the bands that moved popular music from its "more or less acceptable if dubious" status position to money-making and hence acceptable endeavors. Fresh Cream - in retrospect- had what it takes too move the rock genre forward, but it was both a bit early and not as well marketed as it might have been.

This video is from nigh on 50 years after the real Cream, but it includes the essence of the original - with modernization of Clapton's evolution.

LIES/LIAR: POLITICIAN, MOUTHFUL OF S***

As this fortnight runs out of it's allotted, I can't resist the opportunity to draw reference to the current situation in the U.K., it being that delightful spell of arguable (and certainly arguing) anarchy between governments. Parliament is dissolved, the date of the election is just under 4 weeks hence and this is the period of the "hustings": the individual parties clamouring the airwaves and newsprint for that soundbite that will lift them above the opposition, with all dirty tricks present and correct. So what has politics to do with lies and liars? Yeah, right...........

 I'm not going to go into the minutiae of who is who and likely winners and losers; the mother of Parliaments seems now to be a real mother of a Parliament right now and I instead draw your attentions, if interested, to a book: "The Establishment: and how they get away with it", by Owen Jones, an unashamedly leftist polemic. Given the author was born in 1984, make of that date and any Orwellism as you will, it gives delightful credence to why the heart of politics is a virtue of the young, with the head maybe coming later, but it also a timely reminder of why, maybe, these times are so anodyne.

Enough talk, music play on.... Two songs. Firstly, Cream, from 1969, I was assumed this to be a Jack Bruce/Pete Brown song, surprised to read otherwise, but I think the lyric rings as true as it ever did:

And how do we respond to politicians? The Chumba's say it best, this generally being dedicated to the politician of the day, which would tend to be, in their heyday, one Tony Bliar, sorry, Blair:

Buy Politician
Buy Mouthful of Shit (from the album "Anarchy", dontcha know!)
Buy Owen Jones

Drums: Tales of Brave Ulysses

Cream: Tales of Brave Ulysses

[purchase]

I remember the first time I heard Cream. My oldest brother bought the album Disraeli Gears when it came out, and my other brother and I had to hear it. We listened in silence until the end of side one, and before my oldest brother turned the record over, he said, “and that’s only three guys!” Listening to Cream now, I can hear how the trick was done. Eric Clapton and Jack Bruce each has a big sound, and each covers part of the rhythm guitar part. And Ginger Baker thunders along, covering both the drum part and part of the bass. Most drummers in rock hit the beat, and play fills in between. Baker plays a continuous rumble of pulses, varying the pattern in unexpected places but always keeping perfect time. And he makes it sound like it’s something that just happens; it is forceful, but never forced. Tales of Great Ulysses shows this off beautifully. The song opens with Baker playing just a wash of sound on the cymbals, but then the drums kick in. In the course of the song, there are spots where Baker goes back to just the cymbals, and then back to his full kit again. The contrast between these sections makes it easy to appreciate just how important Baker’s playing was to the band’s sound. The other trick to Baker’s sound was that he had two bass drums in his kit instead of the usual one.

Trios: Cream

Cream: Strange Brew

[purchase]

For me, our Trios week must begin with Cream. I’ll explain.

I am the youngest of three brothers. My oldest brother was the perfect age to be aware of the “hippest” music that was coming out in the 1960s, and to build his record collection accordingly. He would sneer at the music that dominated the charts and AM radio, and bring home the music the hippies were listening to. One day, that meant the band Cream. As always, he would gather his younger brothers, and take us into his room, (it was the only time we were allowed in!) He would then put his newest acquisition on the record player, and we would listen. The day he first brought Cream home, we got to the end of the first side, and he exclaimed, “And can you believe that’s just three musicians?” These days, I can describe how Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce, and Ginger Baker filled the space that a second guitarist would have occupied, but back then I could only marvel. I still do.

Black and White: White Room

Cream: White Room

[purchase]

I'm still in overwhelmed/numb/mourning/introspective mode... and this song certainly fits the bill - "lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves" indeed...

From last.fm:

After bassist Jack Bruce wrote the guitar pieces, Cream’s lyricist, poet Pete Brown, grouped colorful four-syllable phrases, loosely organized around images of waiting in an English railway station influenced by the drugs he was taking. “White Room” is further noted for its unusual time signature of 5/4 in the introduction and bridge, with triplets played on toms by Ginger Baker, his thunderous bass drum part also lacing the verses. Finally, “White Room” is notable for showcasing guitarist Eric Clapton’s best known use of the Vox Clyde McCoy Picture Wah (a device used to turn off bass and treble as the pedal is rocked) in the bridge and extended solo.

Along with “Sunshine of Your Love” and “Crossroads”, White Room is one of Cream’s most notable songs, reaching number 6 on the U.S. pop charts.

A most vivid memory of my childhood is when the History of Eric Clapton album came out in March 1972 (my senior year of high school) and, since I didn't yet have my driver's license (long story there), I pitched a total tantrum until my dad gave in and took me up to the mall where I could purchase it on the release date - I still have the 2-LP set... and every snap, crackle and pop is accounted for from endless rotations in the white room of my angst-ridden teen years (is that a redundancy?)...

P.S. In researching this album to post for the purchase link, I note that White Room isn't even on it - I'd have bet money that it was...