Shuffling through the stores like zombies

Friday night and we are chancing our arm at the Old White Swan. Will Hazzard County be there or not? Good grief, they are! All the usual suspects; Chris, Paddy, Tom, and Country John, and by Jove they’re as good as ever. I even manage to bag my usual corner as soon as I arrive instead of waiting until it becomes vacant. Sadly, we have to leave after the first set so I don’t know if they are playing again next week. Taking a look at The Talk Magazine online doesn’t really help as there is no entry for the Old White Swan for Friday 29 July.

Having been on holiday all last week, I’m using the weekend to wind down ready for work again on Monday. Saturday is therefore a lazy day with plently of musical action in the form of snippets from Glastonbury and perfectly rounded off with the latest episode of Seven Ages of Rock on BBC2, which this week is Left of the Dial: The rise of alternative rock in the USA. I’m always a bit wary of the label “Alternate rock”. OK it was a resurgence of interest in rock in the wake of the pomp rock of the ’80, but it was hardly alternate, just more stripped back. The programme focussed on the Seattle scene which built on the work of bands like Black Flag, REM, Hüsker Dü, and The Pixies. Basically the tale revolved around the rise of Nirvana and the equally rapid downward spiral of Kurt Cobain. Overall, another jolly fine programme with my only complaint being the slightly gratuitous use of a clip from The Beverly Hillbillies.

This week I ‘ave mostly been …

… on holiday. Not going anywhere special, just doing odd jobs around the house. I’ve gravelled the postage stamp of a front garden, it should be easier for me to weed between the roses. I’ve also painted the exterior of the front bay window and the French windows, and the downstairs windows ledges (they’re sandstone you know) and creosoting the back fence. Well, it’s probably not creosote anymore, it’ll be “exterior wood preserver CE, your local council has special facilities for disposing of the product.” Cynical? Me? Never!

Hey, I’d like to say “Hello” to you folks that read my blog, you know who you are. I find it odd that anyone would want to read my ramblings, but I guess I read other people’s so maybe it’s not so odd after all.

I’m having a bit of a rock day today, listening to Lacuna Coil Comalies, Magum Brand New Morning, Linkin Park Minutes to Midnight, Kings of Leon Because Of The Times, Free Chronicles…. The latest issue of Classic Rock hurtled through my letterbox this morning, what a jolly fine read. There looks to be some interesting music that I need to get hold of (watch out play.com, there’s money coming your way.) A bit of a old one but Dream Theatre’s When Dream and Day Unite seems to be highly regarded. I haven’t got any of their stuff so that could be a toe in the water. Joe Bonamassa has a forthcoming new album called Sloe Gin. I’ve listened to a track off it, Dirt In My Pocket, definitely my cup of rosy. Finally, CR has given a rave review of Velvet Revolver’s new offering, Libertad, so I might have to put my prejudices aside and shell out for that.

Just caught up with last Saturday’s Seven Ages of Rock on BBC2 which I had to record as it clashed with Jekyll. This week it was We Are the Champions, looking at the rise of stadium rock. I was left with the impression that it’s only the great UK rock bands that can really do stadium rock (U2, The Police, Queen, Genesis, Pink Floyd, etc), the US bands either have rubbish music but great theatre, or great music but can’t do stadium sized gigs. I’m probably generalising, but it seems like a decent rule of thumb. Personally I don’t do big gigs. I once saw Wet Wet Wet (don’t laugh, I was with friends) and I couldn’t actually see them, apart from on the screens at the side. I reckon if you can only see them on screens, you might as well buy a DVD and watch it at home! (Climbs off soapbox.) Anyway, another excellent programme in the series, well done Aunty Beeb.

Out tonight to see if Hazzard County still exist. If not, UK Subs are at Certificate 18 and Fibbers has I Was A Cub Scout punk electronica. So we’ll probably end up at the Roman Bath. Ah, and I’ve got my ticket for Four Day Hombre at Fibbers on 19 July, see you there, let’s hope folk don’t talk all through the gig like last time.

The day the music died

Well, maybe that’s a bit over the top. Star-date Friday and we are off to see Chris Helme in the Basement Bar at York’s City Screen. I arrive around 21:00 just as my old mucker Rik Witter is leaving (blatant name dropping). Andy and H are already there and I’ve almost missed the first act, Rob Hughes, whose final two songs are fantastic. What a voice, what a guy. Chris is sorting out the sound and Lo! There’s Simon Snaize who sometimes sings with Hazzard County, and he’s the second act. I’ve seen Simon in action before and he is brilliant, mostly singing his own compositions (I think) but he manages to segue in a version of George Harrison’s Within You Without You. For the final act Simon takes over on the sound and Chris settles down on his stool. He performs a selection of his own compositions and Yard material; Blinded by the Sun, Hello, Pure, Stars, even a cover of Who Do You Love? A top night out, (except for the warm Boddingtons at £2.70) but still a little early when we leave so it’s a quick dash across town to see if we can catch Hazzard County at the Swan. But when we arrive there is no sign of them even having played, so it sounds as if rumours of their death may not have been exaggerated after all. Plan C and we dart around the corner to the Roman Bath to catch the final two songs from Dr Brown and neck a pint of John Smith’s cask.

Desperately seeking Tulip51

Friday evening and in a slight departure from the usual we decided to pay a visit to Certificate 18 and check out The Scaramanga Six. We figured that we would be done in time to catch most of the second half of Hazzard County anyway.

Arriving at C18 I took a quick glance at the band list, no names that I recognised, not that that means much! I turned up as the first band were playing their penultimate song. They sounded pretty good. They were Tractor Factory, a five piece from Goole. The vocalist, Mike Redford, looked a bit like a cross between Ian Dury and Robbie Williams and he had a strong voice. I wish I had arrived earlier because they were clearly a class act. The full line was: Mike Redford (vocals), Andy Robinson (guitar), Richard Wilson (guitar), Julian Read (bass), Martin Dobson (drums).

Next up were York band Stop! Motion. Oh dear, I think these boys have been listening to way too much Arctic Monkeys. It wasn’t an original sound and it wasn’t really well executed. There were a few occasions when the drummer and the guitars were slightly out of time. Nul points, sorry. The line up was: Chris Parsons (Lead Vocal/Rhythm Guitar/Occasional Synth), Thom Dann (Lead Guitar/Synth/Vocals), Mike Coleman (Bass Guitar), and Jonty Brown ( Drums).

Band three were the GST Cardinals, formed around 2005 in Hull and featuring: Dave Sinclair (Lead vocals), Matthew Edwards (Lead guitar), Alex (Rhythm guitar), Karl (Bass guitar), and Ollie Boyce (Drums). These were definitely an improvement; rock and roll with a splash of punk and Dave constantly jumping around in the audience making us all feel at home. It was a shame that the crowd were so thin. In fact it seemed as if the majority of the audience were actually the members of the other bands!

And finally, for your delectation, before your very eyes, Ladies and Gentlemen ... The Scaramanga Six! Yes really, they are that dramatic. Sort of, Rocky Horror Show collides with Beastie Boys on guitars. Lead vocals and bass are provided by Steven Morricone, looks like Emperor Ming/Derren Brown on a bad day. Extremely classy crooning and guitar work from twin brother Paul. Over there to the left is a lady, Julia Arnez, on a splangy blue guitar (I prefer my red spangly one, but hey) giving out the occasional vocal harmony. Maraca Gareth Champion (come on, that can’t be his real name) is on drums and hits them as though he’s trying to kill them. Last, but not least, Chris Catalyst (yea right) who picks up and plays whatever is closest to hand, mainly the second set of drums and the synth. He stares fixedly ahead like the mad one from Sparks. I understand that Steven and Paul hail from Weston-Super-Mare although the band in toto comes from Huddersfield. The songs are theatrical, pompous, rock at the very limit of its definition. I remember “Vesuvius” with eyes of magma, and “I Wear My Heart On My Sleeve” (didn’t Rory Gallagher do a track called that?) Deliciously sinister stuff, highly recommended.

On the way out I take the band list. Hey, I’ve had two pints and I might forget who they were, then there would be no blog! We trot down Gillygate and through Bootham Bar to the Old White Swan. As expected, Hazzard County have just started their second set so another round of beers and pin back the ears. It’s NZ Dave (acoustic/vocals), Country John (lead guitar), Tom (drums), and Paddy (bass) tonight.

Saturday. I’m not a well bunny. Something wrong with my ears... nah you don’t want to listen to me whingeing on. Anyway up, it was “Seven Ages of Rock” focussing this week on heavy metal. This is a genre that I started in and then came back to later in life. One of the first albums I ever owned was Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid”, from there I progressed to Deep Purple. I managed to miss the worse of the Glam Metal brigade, Motley Crue, and the rubbishy American bands with their poddle hair. I only hooked upgain with heavy metal when Bruce Dickinson re-joined Iron Maiden. Sadly, this is a genre that spans four decades of music and there was no way that a single programme was going to be able to do justice to the entire range of music that HM has opened up. Perhaps we could have new series just for HM? A forlorn hope. Still the programme itself was extremely good and I’m looking forward to the next one. I bet there’s a DVD in the offing. I bet I buy it!

Sunday’s F1 race was the Canadian Grand Prix from Montreal. During qualifying, Hamilton managed to bag pole position, Nick Heidfeld had a brilliant bit of form that gave him P3 leaving Kimi back on P4. The Montreal circuit is pretty hairy at the best of times but the attrition rate was high and included a blood-curdling smash involving Robert Kubica. Fortunately it appears that he has escaped with just a broken leg. Alsonso slithered all over the place and ended up finishing seventh. Webber had a great race but faded towards the end. The final podium finishers were: Hamiltion first, Heidfeld second, and Wutz in third. What a brilliant and thrilling race.

No future

Saturday again, and 7 Ages of Rock again. This week the ‘Blank Generation’ looking at punk rock. Whilst I had a few albums under my belt by this time, the first live gigs I ever went to were punk: The Vibrators, The Jam, The Boomtown Rats, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Blondie, Buzzcocks, Ian Dury and the Blockheads, The Stranglers.

Whilst I can’t argue that New York was the seedbed of punk, it actually flowered in the UK. Argue all you like but you’ll never convince me that the Ramones were a bigger influence than the Sex Pistols or that Patti Smith was more interesting than the bard of Salford, John Cooper Clark.

Punk in the UK was born in the era of the three-day week, random power outages, mass unemployment, and the threat of petrol rationing. I was working in a newsagents at the time and remember hand-cranking the tills in the dark as we struggled to keep serving customers. NY never suffered like we did, theirs was never a true punk perspective.

John Lydon still comes across as the least pretentious and most honest punk survivor. Pete Shelley is still as effeminate as I remember from watching the Buzzcocks at Portsmouth guildhall on 3 October 1978. He tried to walk off stage because the crowd were spitting (unpleasant, but not unusual at punk gigs), the crowd threatened to pull the guildhall apart and the management pushed him back on and made him finish the gig. I don’t think he enjoyed himself on that occasion!

The week before I had seen Ian Dury, and the performance was interrupted by a small fire beneath the stage. The band stopped and Ian asked the audience to make way for the fire brigade. The crowd parted like the red sea, the brigade rushed in, unfurling a hose, and vanished through some small doors under the stage. Five minutes later they emerged, with sooty-faces, and left the building, rewinding their hose as they went, whilst the audience cheered and clapped their efforts. Then the band played on!

Finally, I’ll never forget 10 September 1978 when Debbie Harry wore a skin-tight suit covered in tiny mirrors and sang “Fade Away And Radiate” while lasers played over her body. Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom.

Is This It?

The rumour mill is saying that this could be Hazzard County’s last gig, or penultimate at best. What’s going on? Paddy might be playing down at the Fulford Arms, Chris is off with Mostly Autumn, and Tom is chucking his drum sticks in.

A pint of John Smith’s please. Lovely. Oh, oh. New Zealand Dave is playing the drums and Tom is strumming a guitar. That ain’t right. And is that Simon lurking in the corner cradling a pint?

Things settle down as the band form up. Tom is back on drums, Paddy on Bass, Simon appears to be an extra vocalist, Country John on lead guitar and New Zealand Dave on acoustic and lead vocals. First song “Storm windows” A country band that plays for keeps, hmm interesting choice of song. A game of two halves (a bit like the England v Brazil match taking place in the other bar, England have just scored) but definitely up to the normal high standard. The second half ends with fifteen minutes of pure psychedelica “Who do you love” segueing into “Dear Prudence”, well Simon was there.

It appears that there will be at least another gig next week. After that, who knows? The band might be transformed, might play every other week. Watch this space.