MUSICIAN AUTHORS: STEPHEN KING

Musician? Yeah, I know, but the problem with this theme is a need to have read the books in question, and the reading of a book requires a hell more of an investment than does engaging with the, give or take, 40 minutes of an album. Which sounds as if I don’t (can’t?!) read, which isn’t true, but the books by rockstars I have read are either autobiographical or ghost written, often both, neither of which I necessarily equate with the spirit of this assignment. (For the record, there are two I rate, each written by the writer, these being Footnote, by Chumbawamba’s Boff Whalley and Things the Grandchildren Should Know, by Mark Oliver Everett, but they are not fictional, or shouldn’t be. An honourable mention also for Mark Lanegan’s Sing Backwards and Weep.)

So, Stephen King, then, the uber prolific writer of lengthy horror yarns, usually set in New England and perennials for holiday reading. In the 1980’s I could rely on his putting out a fat doorstep that would see me through each fortnight in the sun, as the family set off to warmer continental climes for r&r. I confess it all slightly fizzled out as I became a little weary of his run on writers with mental block, and the ill begat upon them, preferring the bigger and fatter phantastic tales, each clearly written as he was going along, where, frankly, the somewhat rushed and weak endings were immaterial to the enjoyment of the jaunt along the way. The Stand was probably my favourite, with If a close second. Of course, the other constant with King was the rule that the films, Carrie the honourable exception, were invariably shoddy and shite.

But, hey, I sort of like the guy, and respect his right to have carried on pumping out his pulp fiction long after I deemed necessary. His massive worldwide market and sales certainly, as does his accountant, beg to differ. 

I guess I was aware he was a music fan fairly early on, and so, as I strayed across Ghost Brothers of Darkland County. On a big John Mellencamp bender of completism at the time, it looked interesting. A play, written by Mellencamp and King, together wirth the usually reliable T Bone Burnett, it seemingly premiered in 2012, with a subsequent short run in the Deep South. Southern gothic, they called it and, ever the sucker, I fell for the lavishly made soundtrack, featuring, alongside the three writers, Neko Case, Roseanne Cash and Elvis Costello, together with other then big name draws. Any good? Um, not really. Maybe I need to give it another go, to see if the intervening decade has gifted it any gravitas.

He didn’t play on Darkland County, with all the songs, nominally, Mellencamp originals. But he did play guitar with the fabled collective band, Rock Bottom Remainders, each member a published author and not otherwise known for any musical chops. Live was more their thing, but there is one album, a somewhat extraordinarily hotch  potch  of styles and  influences. King spears on several of the tracks, confirming the old adage about not giving up the day job.

He has also dabbled with a number of artists and the making of videos. Michael Jackson’s Ghosts, a 40 minute collaborative video made with King, came out in 1996. Thriller it wasn’t. 

Over the years he has often professed his love of guitar rock, but, when he appeared on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs, he was able to display a (slightly) broader range of taste. Here is quite a decent article that bring both that, and other favoured choices to bear.

I am uncertain whether I have given him sufficient space to allow credibility as a true renaissance author and musician. I suspect I haven’t, but, hey, I can’t write book or play guitar, so he is at least one up on me!

Happy reading!!!

BEGINS WITH A J: JENNIFER ECCLES/THE HOLLIES

This old band infrequently get a mention in these pages, usually in conjunction with a mention of Graham Nash, the erstwhile manc turned golden boy of Laurel Canyon. Whilst he left the band a little over 50 years ago, it may surprise some readers that the band play on, never having actually ever stopped. This makes them, along with the Rolling Stones and, arguably, the Searchers, the longest legged beat combos of this sceptred isle. (I'm going to discount Herman's Hermit's seeing as, without Peter Noone gurning at the front, well, they aren't, really, are they?)

I confess I was a big fan of the band in my pre-teens, they having as big a thumbprint on the charts as any of the above and even of the Beatles. In fact, add in that, from Manchester, separated by only 35 miles from Liverpool, yet with accents as impenetrable to one as to the other, they were considered the big local opposition to the Moptops. More so, one might argue than the Stones, London seeming a lifetime, or certainly a day's journey, away. They certainly seemed a perennial on Top of the Pops. 

Jennifer Eccles 

Started by the aforementioned Nash and Allan Clarke, for years their distinctive frontman and lead singer, in an astonishing 1962, they performed mainly covers, at least for the charts. A couple of Coasters's covers gave them recognition, before hitting the top ten, in the UK, with Stay. Possibly better now known for Jackson Browne's version. this song was originally by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs, but I'll bet which version Browne heard first. Gradually encroaching on US awareness, via Canada picking up on the band, and their first couple of LPs, as with the Rolling Stones' early work, were released with different songs and running orders, so as to appeal more to the market, eager for the beginnings of the "UK invasion", as the mid 60's assault on the US charts was called. Clarke, Nash and Tony Hicks, the guitarist then and still now, last man left standing, had begun writing songs, using the name L. Ransford, in an echo of the Nanker/Phelge adopted by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. But it was still with covers they were making their name, with Graham Gouldman behind some of the better known, Look Through Any Window and Bus Stop. Gouldman is a one man hit factory who wrote huge numbers of hit songs in the 60s, for bands as diverse as the Yardbirds and the aforementioned Herman's Hermits. In the 70s, as a member of, and the continuing sole original member and focus of, 10 c.c, he wrote even more, as well as with Andrew Gold, as Wax.

Bus Stop

Bus Stop was their first US top ten breaker, and led to tours across the pond. It is likely that this where and how Nash began first to want to expand his horizons, his mind likely expanded by the smoking materials his new American friends were sharing with him. His bandmates wanted poppier material than Nash's King Midas In Reverse, such as to play the Bob Dylan songbook; Hollies Sing Dylan was an album Nash only distantly engaged with. That, along with the fact the band wouldn't countenance Marrakesh Express, a song he had written and offered them, meant he eventually packed his bags and left, finding more likeminded souls who would.

King Midas In Reverse

The rest of the band, whose line-up had been fluctuating wildly anyway, outside the core three members, were left a little blindsided. Ex-Swinging Blue Jean, Terry Sylvester, replaced him, joining the two residual songwriters, adding his muse to theirs. As the '60s ended and '70s began, they had a further fertile period of success, albeit by relying, once more, on cover versions like He Ain't Heavy (He's My Brother). Ironically, about this time, their follow up to Hollies Sing Dylan, the helpfully entitled Hollie Sing Hollies did not chart in their homeland, attaining 32 in the Billboard chart. Allan Clarke was now developing itchy feet, leaving the band himself in 1971, if the band then having a pretty big hit with Long Cool Woman In a Black Dress, from the album he had last appeared from. An uncharacteristically upbeat and rocky number, he had already left as it was breaking the charts, leading to confusion for subsequent tours. However, he rejoined after a few years, the band now moving into similar territory. They even covered Springsteen, if broadly unsuccessfully, their US management dumping the band shortly thereafter.

Long Cool Woman In a Black Dress

Back home they had become more of a legacy group than a going concern, limping on, with the odd hit scattered along the way. What I hadn't realised or remembered was that Nash returned himself to the fold, in the mid '80's, for a tour and an album. What an opportunity that should or could have been, but, glancing at the requisite Wiki page for What Goes Around, I can perhaps see why it sank without my trace. Not a song by any of the songwriters present, the original triad of Nash, Clark and Hicks, a lot by a Paul Bliss, whomsoever he, and some lack lustre Motown covers. Clearly Messrs Stills and Crosby, Young for that matter, lost little sleep, as back he went to them.

Carrie Ann

The band played on, although the roundabout of members was in full swing, not least when Allan Clarke retired from music altogether, in 2000. (Or nominally, a solo album coming out a year or so back.) Hicks was still bravely hanging on, as was permanently be-hatted drummer, Bobby Elliott, a fixture since 1963. His initial replacement was Carl Wayne, once the lead singer of the Move, and which led to what may have been nostalgia heavy shows, as they would feature songs by both bands during their set. But he died, of cancer, in 2004. It seems the band have had a relatively steady line up in the 18 years hence, lead singer duties now c/o Peter Howarth, the rest of the band made up of Ray Stiles (ex-Mud), Ian Parker (also in Clannad) and Steve Lauri (5000 Volts), present since 1986, 1991 and 2004 respectively. (Which meant, awkwardly, when they were elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, in 2010, only two of the current six were deemed eligible......)

Hollies at the R&RHoF

I think they definitely classify as survivors. Would I go see them? Whilst I would probably never have deemed it ever something I would think of, actually, now, I think I might, doomed, no doubt, to disappointment. Unlike, say, the Searchers, who, with a similar current cabaret circuit career, I would certainly jump at, they said to put on a corking show, that encompasses not only their mid 60's fame, but their uncanny resurgence in the late 70s/80s on Sire records.

The Air That I Breathe (10 days ago......)

As a footnote, given the song that entitles this piece, here are Eels, Mark E. Everett's band, with their excellent version thereof.

Original.

Cover.

Elvis Covers Part I: Can't Help Falling In Love

Eels: Can't Help Falling In Love

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Nell Robinson: Can't Help Falling In Love

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It's not just that the Elvis songbook is so deeply embedded in our culture, though it is. It's that the songs he made famous echo through the canon of American music like a grace note, their strand woven into our very psyche. Great performers like E. A. Presley influence generations, their nuance and narrative lingering in us as individuals and collectively; it is because of this, in no small part, that I am a coverblogger.

Case in point: like many children of that infamous hairspray era the 80's, my introduction to this song was through the pouty pop of Canadian crooner Corey Hart, whose Top 40 hit was but a b-side footnote to the nocturnal eyewear of his biggest; later that year, I would revel in the upbeat celtic mood of Lick The Tins as they took the song to the streets in John Hughes vehicle Some Kind Of Wonderful, which premiered in my own little town.

Since then, of course, I've collected dozens upon dozens of covers of Elvis' nth most popular Greatest Hit, from the regaaepop version UB40 released in the early nineties to several sparse and stunning versions done in the last few years. Many are excellent, especially those which have taught me to recognize the strength under the syrup: as tender and brokenly self-effacing as Mark E of the Eels plays it in concert, as sweet and gentle as Nell Robinson's old-timey lullaby. Also worth digging up, for comparison's sake: Ingrid Michaelson's swoony piano cover, Howe Gelb's shattered, breathy bassgrowl, an utterly dreadful thing from Bono, and a gift for hardcore folk fans: Arlo Guthrie and Pete Seeger, with a story of the first time they played this song together.

Blank and Blues: Mr.s E's Beautiful Blues

Eels: Mr. E's Beautiful Blues

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It's been a tough week for me, one of those weeks that makes me grateful for the existence of songs like this one. It's Friday night, and all I can do is turn up the stereo and sing along:

Goddamn right, it's a beautiful day.

Morning: Through the Week Edition

Sometimes a week just gets away from you. Here it is Saturday, and I haven't had a chance to post anything yet. As I try to get out the door for a family gathering, I'll keep the yakking to a minimum and celebrate a week's worth of mornings.


The Move: Mist On a Monday Morning

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We'll start on Monday, with a dark bit of British psychedelia from The Move.


Badfinger: Sweet Tuesday Morning

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On to Tuesday, with a somber-sounding songs with surprisingly upbeat lyrics from Badfinger.


Simon and Garfunkel: Wednesday Morning, 3AM

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A song that would have been appropriate for last week's theme, too.


The Roland Kirk Quartet: April Morning

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OK, here's where my conceit falls apart. I could not find a Thursday morning song, so I'll substitute "April Morning", since we're now in April, and the first of the month was a Thursday. Plus, all that introspective folkie stuff earlier in the week was getting a little old.


Chris Hickey: Friday Morn'

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Some sad-but-resilient singer-songwriter Americana to finish out the work week.


Eels: Saturday Morning

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It's the weekend! Time to rock out with the Eels.


The Velvet Underground: Sunday Morning

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There are several good Sunday morning songs, but this is one of my favorites.

Medical Conditions: Dead of Winter

Eels: Dead of Winter

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Though the mix of music drifts from folk to fluid indiepop to a kind of gritty, sparse No Depression balladry, death haunts Mark Oliver "Eels" Everett's 1998 album Electro-Shock Blues. The record is simply stunning, a complex yet ultimately hopeful response to a difficult season of loss - in the year before its release, Mark experienced his sister's suicide, his mother's cancer diagnosis, and the deaths of several friends - and if and when I ever lose someone that close, friends should be forewarned that record is on schedule to become my mantra of grief and reconciliation.

Fragile and slightly out of tune, the first-person narrative of being on the outside looking in at his mother's slow degeneration here is heartbreaking, especially in the way it superimposes the stark description of radiation treatment with the befogged mundania of the still world which Everett inhabits as his mother's illness progresses. Its album counterpart, the soft and beautiful Climbing To The Moon, offers a sense of closure and distance for what would come to pass, and like the rest of the album, it comes highly recommended, too - as does tiny self-reflective b-side After the Operation, which I first posted here in our Shorties theme almost exactly a year ago.

Shorties: After the Operation

Eels: After the Operation

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After the operation
I didn't have a care
I'd spend whole afternoons
Just layin' there
While I stared
At things in the room
That made me think

I love the way Mark Everett's hushed bedroom performance and vague lyrics evoke the dreamlike haze of post-operation lethargy. And how the song fades into first lyrical and then sonic nothingness just before the two minute mark, aptly reflecting the timelessness of a long recovery.

Songwriting: Dead Of Winter

Eels: Dead Of Winter

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Various sources of inspiration for song writing: Volume II

Personal Tragedy: I hope I don’t offend any hard-core Eels fans, but in my opinion they really only have one great record: 1998’s critically acclaimed Electro-Shock Blues. I have tried a couple of other albums of theirs, and the magic just isn’t there.

So, how is it that front man and sole song writer “E”, who by my estimation is ultimately a second-tier composer, was able to produce such an incredibly beautiful and heartbreaking set of tunes for Electro-Shock Blues?

I think the answer is that sometimes personal tragedy brings out the best in artists. Sometimes it even makes artists out of non-artists.

Electro-Shock Blues was written following the suicide death of E’s sister, and his mother’s death that followed a battle with lung cancer. These two deaths, which occurred in close temporal proximity to one another, left E as the only living member of his immediate family. The songs on the album feature entries from his sister’s diary, comments about chemotherapy, hospital food, two songs about funerals, a beautiful tune about memories of simpler times with his sister, and others about E’s struggle to keep his sanity in the midst of this onslaught of personal crisis. The entire album is poignant, painful, and real.

What is it about personal tragedy that makes for great art? In my opinion the answer is that you can’t fake this stuff. I could probably write a verse or two right this minute about the war, about cars, a walk on a beach, or whatever, but the result would be pedestrian and mediocre. Genuine psychic trauma, on the other hand, can’t be conjured. As a result of this, the listener is drawn into a bond of sympathy with the artist, and because we have experienced pain of various kinds ourselves we are able to understand from what well of sorrow the words come.

The featured track is Dead Of Winter. E is standing outside his mother’s house on a winter night thinking about her struggle with cancer and knowing that she will die soon.

so I know you're going pretty soon
radiation sore throat got your tongue

magic markers tattoo you
and show it where to aim

and strangers break their promises:
"… you won't feel any … you won't feel any pain"