Edinburgh Music Bozo

What's the difference?

2011-09-19T22:39:00.003+01:00

Hmm. Having wondered about the legality of Grooveshark, and found (thanks Norm!) that it's interpretation of legality is somewhat "interesting", I am now wondering something else.

In what way does this differ from allowing people to upload all sorts of music to Youtube? Does that material get taken down, and if so, does it get replaced immediately? Or, is it just that no-one wants to get into a legal wrangle with Google, with all their not-insubstantial resources at their disposal? Hmm again.

Songs About Sex

2011-09-06T22:29:00.003+01:00

So, there I was, cheerfully listening to a bit of Ian Dury on the wonder-how's-it-even-legal Grooveshark. The song "Wake Up and Make Love With Me" hit me with it's sublime blend of funky rhythms twinned with a very British sense of humour. I'd heard it before, but I'd forgotten how good it was. "Is this the best song ever about sex?" I wondered.

Most songs about sex, you basically don't want to know about. An exception may be Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing", and possibly a few others that I can't think of right now. I seem to recall reading somewhere that The Jesus & Mary Chain wrote songs about sex, but to me they all seem to be about drugs, or at a push, possibly drugs and motorbikes.

Have there been any songs written by the musical elite of Edinburgh that may fit the bill? Not that I can recall right at this moment.

There's a challenge, along with "Write a happy song". Write a song about sex that doesn't revolt all and sundry, and you'll be doing well.

Festival?

2011-09-01T22:38:00.003+01:00

I'm afraid that the Edinburgh Festival appears to have largely passed me by. Which is quite a feat, given that it's the largest arts festival in the world, and I live pretty centrally. I didn't shun it on purpose in a curmudgeonly manner, I just didn't get round to doing much about it. And now, it's gone. Arg.

Still, one thing I went to see was somehow officially part of it, and that was the excellent gig for The National at the Corn Exchange, along with my sister, Mr Cakes, and L. I'd enjoyed them very much at The Astoria in London about 3 years ago, but I was taken aback by how much they'd grown in confidence since then, and, if I may use that Spinal Tap-esque phrase "Stagecraft". They just looked a whole lot more comfortable being there.

The National

The puzzle remains though. A band with introspective, melancholic songs with no immediately obvious hook-laden choruses, and whose members are older and less good-looking than a lot of other bands. Despite this, they filled the Corn Exchange, and seem to have only grown in popularity. My straw-poll of gazing around the audience seemed to show an extremely varied bunch, so it's not just your thin and pale indy kids either.

One wonders what the secret is. Persistence counts for a lot, and possibly, not "giving in" and making an obviously commercial record. I think people respect that, to a certain extent. I think they're great, long may they continue.

Pirates at The Listening Room

2011-08-15T22:23:00.003+01:00

Compering at the Blue Blazer last night, I heard one of the best song intros I've heard in a while:

I asked my friend what he thought of my new song. He said, "You mean the one about the Pirates and the ship of gold? I thought it was great, yeah". I said, "Ah, cheers. It's actually about the perils of working in the banking sector, but thanks anyway".

A somewhat rumbustious Blazer was countered with loud singing by all concerned. Hurrah!

En Paris

2011-07-27T22:37:00.004+01:00

Pop In, Paris, France

I went with Fuzzystar to Paris to play a gig last week. Yep, I said Paris. Cool, n'est-ce pas?

Actually, getting there and back on grot-bandits Ryan Air wasn't quite so cool, but never mind. The gig was fun, and Florence, who ran the Pop In (mercifully utterly unlike the watering hole of that name that once existed in Portobello) was very welcoming. She was even apologetic that she couldn't pay us anything. Imagine! At most venues in Britain, that's taken as read, and no-one even mentions it.

She did however, mention that the beer was free for us . . . sometime later, word had travelled around all the band . . . the upshot was that we estimated that we drank somewhere north of 300 Euros' worth of the rather nice "Pop" brand lager that they were selling. So, in a way, we did get paid, and rather more than for the equivalent British gig. Despite being thus improbably oiled (or possibly because), I thought the band played rather well.

That just left the onerous task of hanging out in Montmartre, eating fancy cakes, and patronising various swish cafes to fill in the remaining days. Somehow, we managed it.

What Florence was saying about the music scene in Paris was all too familiar though. Not enough decent venues, neighbours complaining at the slightest thing, and basically a real struggle to keep the Pop-In venue going.

So, to help Florence, if you're in Paris, why don't you . . . no, I won't. Too obvious.

At The Festival

2011-07-18T19:05:00.000+01:00

One doesn't want to be too cynical. It's fun, yes, and you can see stuff that would not normally come within an infinity of bargepoles' of Edinburgh Hopefully you can afford some of it. The Festival (aka The Fringe), that is.

So, all good so far. Where I differ from some shiny-eyed optimists, is whether there is anything to be gained from doing much in the performing of one's music in Edinburgh during the hullaballoo of the Festival.

My experiences have thus far suggested "no, not especially". True, it's possible you may get a slightly larger audience in some places. But, often that audience just wants to hear "traditional" music (i.e. something not too challenging in the Folk idiom). And, sometimes, very few people may come to your night at all.

When you think about it, the population in Edinburgh roughly doubles during the Festival; it apparently rises to around 1 million bozos. However, the entertainment on offer goes up by a factor more like a zillion. And competing with the promotional power of say, the Chinese State Circus, or the latest cool comedian is always going to be hard

Which isn't to say, don't do it. I've had some good times over the years doing some music, playing at The Ross Bandstand will always be a cherished memory, for example. But, that's the exception, not the rule. If you do decide to put on/perform music, just be aware that there's a lot of competition, and to do it for fun rather than expecting to be whisked up in a swirl of media attention and glory.

Lips

2011-07-09T16:42:00.001+01:00

So, there I was Bozoing around in London last weekend. I had a slightly "larger" (if I may use that term without sounding like a Radio 1 dance DJ twat) night than I think either George or I expected on Thursday, but was certainly fun. That left me somewhat tired for the Flaming Lips gig at Alexandra Palace on the Friday, where they played their album The Soft Bulletin in it's entirety.

The Lips undoubtedly played well, their stage show was good, with visuals, balloons, people dressed up as characters from The Wizard of Oz on stage, a man-sized hamster ball, and what-not. Somehow though, I felt slightly disconnected from the whole thing. I started wondering if I really do like seeing bands in very large venues. There's either a massive crush down the front, or you can stand at the back and be constantly brushed by people going to and from the loo. A draught can usually be felt, and there's always some arses talking constantly throughout the whole thing. And the sound is often not especially good.

I came to the conclusion that I don't think I want to go to many more large-scale gigs, no matter who it is. I just don't think that live music is meant to be conveyed to masses of people who are so far away that they can barely see who's on the stage. Give me a packed, sweaty, smaller room. Which, to be fair, is what I think most bands prefer too, but the sheer logistics of touring mean that you need to get the numbers through the door if you want to make any money at all.

This Sunday, at The Listening Room, it is Ms Fi as the featured act, and I will be doing some percussion for her. Looking forward to it!

Insanely good

2011-06-29T19:07:00.001+01:00

I've been wondering, for the last week or so, if people who are really good - and I mean really good, at their instrument, are actually in some way insane. Wouldn't normal people baulk at the thought of all those hours of practice every goddamn day? Wouldn't they, you know, get bored?? Isn't being obsessed with something to that degree a bit odd?

The only slight hole in this theory is that it doesn't appear to be borne out by reality, but I'm working on that.

And, if you're wondering if I'm using this to justify not practising, then I say "Be quiet oaf! You know not of which you speak".

Still going

2011-06-16T22:39:00.001+01:00

My recent bout of despondency has shifted, due to playing two more gigs with The Storm in two days, at the Leith Festival and at OOTB. Nothing like a bit o' live action to cheer one. The Leith Festival one in particular I enjoyed, it being with Matt Norris and The Moon, and Caro Bridges and The River, bands I like very much. I was idly thinking that a "Geographical forces and objects-themed" (or something) tour with those guys would be fun.

I think The Storm's sounding more together these days, starting to blend as a unit. When playing percussion, one inevitably notices timing more, and possibly, when one is playing a melodic instrument or singing, timing can sometimes take a back seat to melody. Which can be fine, as long as everyone else understands, and does the same thing. If not . . . then the results are there for all to hear. Subtle differences in people's appreciations of timing need to become aligned. It's called "getting tight". Which isn't a reference to mythical Scots parsimony (which I have never found to be true, incidentally).

So, the gig carousel cavorts and wheels, and turns it's gaudy splendour to the slightly stranger one on Saturday, where we appear to be supporting a wind band. Usually at these affairs, lilac-rinsed septuagenarians form the mainstay of the audience, so I will be curious as to the reaction.

When it goes well

2011-06-08T22:56:00.000+01:00

Had a cracking gig with The Storm down at Fondoo on Saturday night there. It's held in the Eastgate Theatre in Peebles, and it's a well run night, run by a very pleasant man called Ken.

The sound system and sound person are good, the audience are appreciative and attentive, and Ken ensures that only good quality acts play on the bill. On Saturday, it was Paul Gilbody, us, Augustalia, and Hoochie Fig. There was a dressing room, and a rider. Heady stuff.

On top of all that, Ken very kindly purchased Peter and I a beer afterwards. I left with a warm glow, which wasn't entirely due to my enthusiastic consumption of the rider and Ken's gifted Peroni.

Maybe we should leave Edinburgh more often.

Different hats

2011-06-04T09:40:00.000+01:00

I don't know about you, but I'm starting to tire somewhat of certain parts of the media trumpeting that "it's never been a better time to be a musician". The basis for this argument is that the means of production and distribution of music has now become reasonably affordable. This then, has liberated musicians from the evil shackles of the music biz, and our hero/heroine rides off into the sunset, reaping adulation and rewards as they go.

As has been noted by other commentators and myself previously, it doesn't really work like that, mainly due to the lack of a large enough PR machine on the side of the muso.

The other difficulty is that just because you can record at home in your bedroom, doesn't mean you've done that very well. To do that, you'll need to invest some time researching recording techniques, reading up on microphones and their placement, recording software, buying mics, mixers, and sundry other bits of equipment. So, along with musician, add the hats of recording engineer, producer, and studio manager, acoustic engineer, whatever.

Then, once you have your digital files, you might want people to actually hear them. So, maybe make a CD? Add the hats of graphic designer/photographer. Or just download them? Wouldn't it be a nice if we had a website? Add the hat of web designer, and optionally, if you want people to actually find the website, the hat of SEO Bozo. (Search Engine Optimisation).

Ooh, and what about all that fancy "social media" stuff? Let's do that too! Add another hat.

So, all of that stuff can be rewarding at times, and often downright frustrating at others. But the point is that the modern musician, if they want people to hear their music, must engage with all of this in some way. And, it all takes time and energy.

And, ultimately, that means less time for doing music.

A north Wynd doth blow

2011-05-29T13:32:00.000+01:00

I really want to go to see North Wynd at the Blazer tonight, but I fear that may be prevented by a stinking cold that has reared it's ugly head. Which would be a shame, as in my estimation Johnny Pugh is one of the better musicians in Edinburgh. The fellow has a knack for creating something special when he performs live.

I saw finally saw Norm's Invisible Helpers at the Pleasance on Friday there, although sadly without Big Jim on keys, or the Warr guitar. It was still a good set though, I particularly enjoyed the reworkings of "Till I Found You", and the turning of "Nicole" into a late-70's Chic-style disco floor-filler. There were belly-dancers earlier in the evening too, which was surprisingly impressive and enjoyable.

What I liked about that evening was the variety of fare on offer. Some like to have their musical evenings themed; I say bollocks to that. The more variety, the better.

What's the point-ism

2011-05-23T18:21:00.005+01:00

I have been assailed once again, by the dark dogs of What's-the-Point-ism. I think it happens pretty regularly to any Edinburgh-based musician. Despite some people saying some very nice things about one's music, it usually adds up to only a handful of people, and one yearns for a chance to reach a wider audience. And, in that attempt, most people will simply ignore you.

A dark dog of What's the Point-ism

Which, as Matthew from Song By Toad would say, you shouldn't take personally. Which is good advice, but not so easy to do when it's your stuff that's being ignored.

One is reminded of a story told me by Kat Flint, related by the musicians in the Cara Dillon band (whom she toured with). They apparently said that if they were in a strange town/city and were bored, they would go to music nights and pretend they were A & R men from some big record label, just as a jolly jape. They said Edinburgh was the only place where no-one ever believed them.

Pfft. Going to band practice, hopefully that will shift this mood.

Do you copy?

2011-05-18T20:33:00.001+01:00

Bozos In Sp-a-a-a-c-e!

Music, that is. Some people act as if all music is now free. Some make a stand, and pay for all their music. Most people I suspect, fall somewhat awkwardly in-between.

I say awkwardly, as I think most people probably wouldn't copy the CD of a relatively unknown local artist. Like say, Sam Barber, or Lipsync For A Lullaby. They know that buying that CD means a lot to that band. And, it's a way of showing that they like the music enough to give it a try at home, in addition to going to the band's gigs. In addition, that is, to getting drunk to that particular soundtrack, and chatting with acquaintances, which isn't too onerous. Plus, the band may actually appreciate the money, to offset, if even in a small way, the costs of making the shiny platter.

So far, so good. I also suspect most people wouldn't be too worried if a friend lobbed them a copy of something horrifically successful in the past, but which they hadn't got around to listening to yet. For me, that would be something like say, Crosby, Stills and Nash. I'm basically never going to buy it, but I'm mildly curious about them, having heard a few of their songs. And, as far as I understand it, they don't exactly need the revenue from CD sales/downloads in order to live. Plus, don't the record company and manufacturers/distributors get most of that anyway? (NB I have no idea, but it's a commonly held belief).

The difficulty lies in that grey area in the middle. At what point does an artist become successful enough to not worry about the impact a copy here or there makes? Can we even judge that? The surviving Beatles, one would have assumed, must be coining it in from their back catalogue. But then you realise that they were fleeced back in the day, and their songwriting rights sold on, to now lie with the estate of a Mr M Jackson.

There's also the situation when, a few years ago, two different friends each gave me an unasked for copy of an album they thought I may like. Those two albums have resulted, over the subsequent years, in my purchasing of quite a few of those bands' albums, not to mention T-shirts and gig tickets. One could argue that it generated sales and profit, by that most cost-effective and cheapest method, word of mouth.

Edinburgh Unplugged

2011-05-12T18:55:00.000+01:00

So, there I was, bozoing away at Edinburgh Unplugged last night, despite the fact that I really couldn't remember who was on the bill. Why the hell was I going then? As I knew I could trust Calum Carlyle to not put on shit, that's why. Same way that I can trust Jimbers at Secret CD's.

Anyhoo, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Man Gone Missing turned out to be Simon Kempston playing solo in a somewhat more bluesy vein than I'd been accustomed to of late. I thought that his voice was sounding rather good. Maturing like a fine wine, and all that. The guitar sounded nice, but I couldn't help thinking that I expected it to be louder, it being a metallic resonator and all. Some typically fine guitar playing though, which I enjoyed very much. Some fine chat too - opening remark, "I'm Simon, I'm from Dundee, and I play the delta blues - The Tay delta, that is".

Colin Milne is a true original, an older gentleman who makes and plays his own guitars (a classical, in this case). Not only that, he plays some rather beautiful, creative and heartfelt songs, all dashed with a sense of humour and pathos. "Eye Candy" was a hilarious and unexpected opening song, and showed the man's sheer nerve. Although you'd never describe Colin as a strong singer, there were a couple of occasions which damn near brought a tear to my eye, a sentiment which was echoed by the girl sitting next to me.

The Forget-Me-Nots

The Forget-Me-Nots sounded like they'd be a crap indie band who were a friend of The Pastels back in the day, but instead they turned out to be an all-girl acapella barbershop quartet. Now, I don't know if I'd ever choose to listen to that at home, but on the night it proved damned entertaining, the girls really acting out the songs with great movement and expressions, and with very strong voices and interesting arrangements too. It had the potential to be awful; instead it was GREAT. I believe they're playing in the Festival. You heard it hear first, folks.

That left the last band with a tricky act to follow. Happily, Conscious Route rose to the challenge, playing a storming hip hop set, complete with some great female backing vocals from Hannah Werdmuller, and another vocalist. Some great audience participation going on, the MC encouraging us to clap and wave hands, etc. I liked the lyrics too. I left feeling energised and with a smile on my face. In fact, I got a CD for free, which is damned nice of them, I shall have to fish it out of my jacket and give it a spin.

So, all of the above conspired to keep the Bozo out past his usual time of retiring. No matter. He went to work tired and slightly drunk, and was none the worse for it.

A bit of a sesh

2011-05-08T11:02:00.000+01:00

So, yours truly, El Bozotron, was playing at Secret CD's on Wednesday there, with The Storm, along with three other bands, all of whom were of the usual high quality. Paul Gladwell has interesting lyrics, and an extremely good cellist in Sebastian, who added an extra dimension to the usual vox/guitar combo. I think normally he has a whole band, but it was just the two of them on Wed. The Beggar Girls are an extremely skilled bunch, whose blend of Balkan/English/French folk is a classy act. One cannot fail to be charmed by them and their music, unless you were in an extremely grumpy mood to start off with. In which case, you shouldn't have gone out that evening. On a separate note, it's nice to see some older women playing music, something which is surprisingly rare.

The Beggar Girls

Adam Holmes was a name I hadn't heard before, but his star appears to be in the ascendant, and one can see why. Personable and comfortable on stage, melodic without being overly challenging, and with a top notch band, one can understand why he was a nominee at the Radio 2 National Folk Awards. Possibly an Edinburgh version of Paulo Nuttini?

For some weird reason, even though the Storm played well, all the band felt a tad flat afterwards, but no-one could quite explain why. Once could point to the lack of a good monitor sound on-stage, but that's par for the course at pretty much any gig, and by all accounts it sounded good out front. It's possibly a case of post-launch comedown, the next few gigs probably won't be able to match that for audience interest/reaction.

Secret CD's has to be one of the best regular music nights in town, for an extremely reasonable £3. Hat's off to ol' Hairy Legs (James Igoe to you) for bothering his arse and actually doing it.

I also went to a folk session at The Canon's Gait last night, ably overseen by Frank Burkitt. I'd also gone last Saturday too, as a way of practising more percussion ahead of Wednesday's gig. I came to the conclusion that I like folk-tinged things, but I'm not especially keen on straight folk music. I feel the same way about country music, and, to a lesser extent, about jazz music. Blues music is the exception to this, I don't mind listening to pretty much any Blues, like Howlin' Wolf. Shake it like a willow tree!

At the Wee Red

2011-05-01T13:30:00.001+01:00

. . . Bar, that is. The one in the Art college. I was there on Tuesday night, to see Fuzzystar, The Oates Field and Golden Grrrls. Mainly to see Fuzzystar, if the truth be told, but I was interested in the others. I'd seen Alan Oates solo a few times, and always enjoyed his stuff, without being completely bowled over by it. Anyone who can play a keyboard with a beater between their toes whilst singing and playing the guitar deserves some respect, I feel.

Before Fuzzystar opened the proceedings though, I couldn't help reflecting that many shows around the town succeed despite the qualities of the venue in question, not because of them.

Take the Wee Red: There's usually absolutely nothing outside to suggest there's a gig on that night, or that it is even a venue of any description. Often there's daylight coming in (Daylight?!! With Rock n roll??!! Yuck!) from the doorway (if it's open), and a bit of outside noise coming in from the corridor. If the door is shut, then every time someone comes in they have to walk in front of most of the audience to look for a seat (and letting in more daylight, arrg), and it's somewhat distracting from the band. There's no stage, the performers are on the same floor as the audience. The sound can often be pretty terrible. The bar doesn't sell any nice beer, and the toilets stink. The miserable wretch known as the music-lover tolerates all this, Ladies and Gentlemen, in order to occasionally catch a fleeting glimpse of beauty through the medium of music.

Fuzzystar as a four-piece (no Malcom in this photo)

Happily though, on Tuesday, the sound wasn't terrible, it was actually quite good. And, the beer wasn't horribly overpriced (like it was at London's Brixton Academy, where two drinks cost £11.25. But anyway). And I should stress that I'm not blaming the promoters The Gentle Invasion for any of the above. They have honoured their end of the bargain by selecting quality acts and publicising the event. And they're nice people too.

So, given all the above, I was pleasantly surprised when Fuzzystar, who were playing as a duo, played an entrancing set. Malcolm Benzie was being Mr Multi-instrumentalist, swapping an electric guitar for a ukelele, then for a violin, plus doing backing vocals. You could hear Andy Thomson's fine lyrics clearly, and the whole thing was melodic, varied and interesting.

Then on to the "power trio" The Oates Field. I didn't really know what to expect, but it became apparent that if Alan's solo stuff is his Dr Jekyll, then this band is his Mr Hyde. The guy let rip into one of the most rocking sets I've seen in a long time, dancing on guitar effects, and bellowed and screamed into the mike as if his life depended upon it. Truly exhilarating and great. At one point he switched to singing through a vocoder, but instead of using it generate an icy cool, a la Air or Kraftwerk, he repeatedly screamed "Come on!", which made it sound like a demented robot, which was brilliant.

The 3-piece Golden Grrrls initially disappointed me by not being all girls (one's a boy), and not particularly golden. In fact, one had dark hair and one had light brown. Putting that to one side, one could admire their chutzpah for dispensing with a bass, and for their spiky, jaunty lead lines played on a Telecaster. Reminded me at times a fair bit of the late Edinburgh band The Shop Assistants, in the general unabashed nature of their Indie sound. As I said to Andy, one could imagine it going down well in a student union.

The Ghost of Electricity howls in the back room of the Blazer

2011-04-25T23:49:00.000+01:00

It being a nice sunny day here in Edinburgh yesterday, I decided to fix the busted spoke on my road bike, and go for a spin to Peebles and back. On the way home through the Moorfoot hills, my mind wandered on to the topic of bicycles in music. I started considering how many references to cars there are in popular music, but how few to the bicycle. I can't think of too many at all.

There's Queen's Bicycle Race I guess, which I'm not even sure I like. There's The Smith's haunting Back To The Old House, ("When you cycled by/Here began all my dreams"), and there's Mungo Jerry's Pushbike Song. And . . . er . . . er, I can't think of any more. And none of them actually celebrate or venerate the bicycle like a lot of car-based songs do. Maybe that is a songwriting challenge, to write a song that does just that.

I saw the Electric Ghosts last night at the jolly old Blazer, and enjoyed them as much as ever. Disarmingly simple-sounding country-tinged songs, but with a good sense of melody and effective, hook-laden lyrics. I shall have to try and catch the full-on band at some point, on the basis of the acoustic shows I've seen, it should be enjoyable.

But does it work with just a guitar?

2011-04-20T22:15:00.001+01:00

I was rather looking forward to hearing the astronomically-and-quantum-physically-themed Sam Barber And The Outcasts play at the Wee Red Bar tonight. Sadly though, I got a text last night from their guitarist, the estimable Ms Fi, to say that it had been canned, for somewhat obscure reasons.

A shame, as Sam's arrangements are good, and for me, the songs tend to suit the whole band setting, even though some of them can also work as solo acoustic numbers.

For some purists, that is a definition of a good song; can it work as a song with just one acoustic guitar? For me, that theory is a stinking, heaving mass of sweaty pig's knackers.

For a start, it totally ignores any tonal qualities of a song. Would "Satisfaction" by The Rolling Stones sound good played on a beat up old acoustic? i.e. without that rasping, echoing guitar? The "one acoustic" theory also ignores any arrangement ideas. Wouldn't Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" be a tad tame without that horn section? To attempt to replicate Bowie's "Space Oddity" on an acoustic would be somewhat empty, without the band, not to mention the iconic stylophone noises.

Anyway, I think Sam's got a good handle on all of that, so it was a shame not to experience it.

An album launch

2011-04-14T21:24:00.000+01:00

So, I was playing with the band at Lindsay and the Storm's album launch on Sunday there, at the Voodoo Rooms. It was rather crowded and busy, at one point it got so hot and sweaty that it made me feel all funny, and I had to leave the room to get some air. Strangely though, once I was on stage, I felt fine, even though sweat was dropping off the end of my nose. Mercifully, they turned on the air con about halfway through the set, so we didn't melt.

Anyhoo, it was a great night, rather stonking sets from James Whyte who was in full cry, and sounding brilliant, and also a sublime set from Caro Bridges and the River, who were also fearsomely good. I'd never heard jazz banjo, or a piece of paper used as a percussion instrument previously either. I wonder if that's why I was sweating so much, as I knew we had to follow them. Hmm. Anyway, everyone seemed to have a good time, and all the cake got eaten, so it was fun.

Edinburgh-based French film-maker Julien Pearly was filming it too, so at some point there may be footage of the night.

So, the CD has been "launched", and the vessel is, as we speak, bobbing around on the uncertain seas of the independent music ocean, subjected to passing currents and drifts. Who knows where it will end up?

The trouble with reviews (part 1 of 56)

2011-04-06T19:20:00.005+01:00

I had a good night down at the jolly ol' Blazer of Blueness on Sunday, seeing Obi-Norm-Kenobi playing a splendid rare solo acoustic set. Good to hear some new material there too. I re-worked a superb Jill Hepburn song called "Moon On My Mind", to a more bluesy bent, which seemed to go down quite well. The more I listen to Jill's album "Snowflake", the better the songs seem to me, a subtlety in the lyrics suddenly reveals itself, or a melody gets lodged in the brain.

Which brings to me to an idea. When reviews of albums/singles are done, I'd imagine that in the main, they are done after one or two listens, due to time constraints on the poor overworked journo doing it. Perhaps for a major release, a selected few favoured acolytes may receive copies early, and they may listen to it a bit more.

But, usually I don't listen to music like that. I quite often listen to something two, maybe three times, then for some reason don't play it again for a while. Then, I'll listen again, and if I don't really like it, that'll likely be the end of it. If I do like it though, I'll probably carry on listening to it for months. Recent examples (as well as the Jill Hepburn platter mentioned above) might be the I Am Kloot opus "Sky At Night", The National's "High Violet", and Edinburgh-based troubadour Calum Carlyle's "Another Side of Calum Carlyle". Perhaps my subconscious is processing the musical information.

It's probably not practicable, but what would be interesting is if somehow the reviewer could do another review say, six months down the line. Does the record still hold any interest for them, what songs started to grate, what has emerged as a classic, etc. The only problem with that is that it would take up time/space from new music, which wouldn't be good.

Usually, it's music than I'm not terribly sure I even like on first listen, that I end up loving.

Primal Scream

2011-03-30T18:41:00.001+01:00

So, there I was in London at the weekend, down to see Andy BHT, and to hear his band Fuzzystar play at The Wilmington prior to his relocation back to Auld Reekie. It was another very good night at the Wilmington, and I thought that the 'star had certainly tightened up, to rather dramatic and compelling effect. The melodies, lyrics and what-not was always good, but now there was also precision and power. Impressive. I had their songs in my head for days after.

I also, somewhat randomly found myself at Primal Scream's gig of their influential "Screamadelica" album at Brixton Academy. I'd been offered a spare ticket the night before, so I thought "What the hey, I like that album", and went. I was glad I did, as it was certainly a fun night, although I thought at times that the sound churned around the Academy like old socks in a washing machine. Bobby G has matured into a surprisingly effective frontman, roaming around the stage and exhorting us to sing along like a man possessed. Mani on bass acted like a man absolutely petrified, gulping huge amounts of air and staring around him like he was seeing demons. If it was an act, it was brilliantly played.

As I was down the front, I was damn near within touching distance, slightly perturbing to see someone famous that close up, if truth be told. One suddenly realises that they are an actual, live, human being. I'm sure our eyes locked a few times. Disconcerting.

But, what I was thinking was, is it a good thing for so many people to be so keen on an album you did 20 or so years ago? In some ways of course it is, as it shows that album has withstood the cruel brillo pad of time, which erodes so much once shiny music. Not many can lay claim to that. But, I'd imagine that most artists would rather that people got most excited about their latest work, whatever that is.

Who knows though? He probably enjoyed himself anyway, so good luck to him and the rest of the Primals.

The Listening Room

2011-03-24T10:18:00.002Z

Who DIDN'T notice the guitar in this logo?

I was hosting at The Listening Room on Sunday just gone, the main act being Confushian. I was somewhat concerned beforehand that the place might be stuffed with noisy bozos watching some sort of sport on the screens, but thankfully the place was very quiet when I got there.

Which, you might think, would be a bad thing. Not if you're running an unamplified acoustic night, it isn't. And then, the list quickly filled up with lots of good musicians, and the room also had some interested non-musicians too.

It would have to be said that the quality on display in the open mic section of the evening (8-9 pm) would have been enough to have made any main act tremble in their boots. Matt Norris, Caro Bridges, Roger Emmerson, Lindsay Sugden, Julien Pearly, Sir Tom Watton, Gavin . . . all on top form and sounding great.

So, it was just as well for all of us that Confushian are made of sterner stuff than the loose blancmange which passes for our resolve. They put in a truly stunning performance, I was particularly impressed by Fraser's new skill of playing the saxophone. If someone had said he'd been playing it for 20 years, I'd have believed them. John "Fingers" Farrell's guitar playing was as flawless as ever, no mean feat for someone whose main instrument is bass (for the awesome Townhouse).

So, one of those special nights, when the magic dust has been sprinled liberally around. Not one for hyperbole, Roger murmered "What a wonderful evening" as he departed. I couldn't agree more.

When the cat's away . . .

2011-03-17T21:38:00.001Z

Both my flat-mates having gone out for the evening, I seized the opportunity to inexpertly bellow some songs in my room, and attempt to play the harmonica. I should probably be able to practice like that when they're in, but I can't. And the trouble is, they aren't both out at the same time very often.

I think it must be something to do with singing being more personal than playing an instrument. I know of plenty of other musicians who feel the same, and wait until the coast is clear before letting rip. And sometimes you do need to practice singing loud, like when you're due to host the Listening Room at the Blue Blazer on Sunday for the excellent Confushian. As I am. I'm really looking forward to it, actually.


Photoshop has stopped this now

Topic Change. The name "Justin Bieber" has been another word for opprobrium and distaste for many. In fact, I first became aware of him when my son expressed his extreme dislike for him. I'm not still sure that I've ever heard his music, although I do somehow know, without wishing to, that he likes Cheryl Cole and has had his hair cut.

I was thinking, it's not so very different from when Donny Osmond was around. Same target demographic, same artless child/man mercilessly exploited by all and sundry, who will probably end up in rehab someday (although I hope not). All that's really changed these days is that the Internet allows people to vent their feelings for or against these figures.

I thought the Internet was going to change music and make it somehow more democratic? (cue hollow laughter turning into maniacal . . . - that's enough now - Ed)

Secret CD's, gigs

2011-03-13T19:40:00.001Z

So, another fortnight, another batch of gigs. First up was the Secret CD's night. When it was held in the Phoenix Bar on Broughton Street, it often had so many people attending, that they couldn't all physically get in. Not too surprising, given the small capacity of that place, and the fact there were usually four bands on the bill. I suggested to ol' Hairy Legs (aka James Igoe) on a few occasions that he move to a larger venue, given there was clearly a demand for his well-run night.

Thankfully, that has now happened, and the Speakeasy in the Voodoo Rooms is an excellent choice. First on the bill was Hannah Werdmuller, someone I had never heard before. I would say she was competent without being startling, ploughing a furrow that (to me) others had ploughed before. The audience seemed to like it though.

Next was the Dull Fud's, who impressed me with their peformance, their energy, and their presence onstage. Nothing remotely dull there. It was very enjoyable, but George and I wondered if the live experience could make the transition to CD. Again though, the crowd were thoroughly entertained.

Iona Marshall was next, I think promoting a new CD. I've heard Iona over the years, and it's never been quite my bag, something about the music doesn't engage or interest me. I seemed to be in the minority in the room on that though, so I held my tongue.

Lipsync For A Lullaby closed the evening, and their music does interest me. The band started life with a conventional line-up (bass, guitar drums kinda thing), but have now moved to a string quartet kind of arrangement, with Atzi singing and playing cello. It's certainly original, and at times, very dramatic. It's more in the way of following the classical tradition than the "stick strings on an existing pop song" approach. As a result, there aren't many discernible choruses, or tunes you can hum, but it's pretty compelling nevertheless.

On Tue night, The Storm played at OOTB, the first time I'd even been to their new venue of the Montague Bar. As it's horse shoe-shaped, it doesn't immediately suggest itself as a natural place for live music, as about half the bar can't see the stage, although they can still hear the music. Somehow though, that didn't seem to matter. We played OK, although as I reflected later, often in a noisy bar, the finer nuances of a performance can be lost, and you end up just battering the percussion like a demented ape. Ol' Hairy Legs was the featured artist, and very enjoyable it was too, good to hear the man play his own material for once.

And then, on Wednesday, it was Calum Carlyle hosting another music night, but this time his "Edinburgh Unplugged" at the Royal Oak. Good to hear Townhouse and Graeme Mearns acoustically, and also the two acts I'd not heard before, The Wild Myrtles and Eilidh Steel and Mark Neal. And, for £2, it's rather good value. Plus, the beer isn' too expensive ;)

Whew, now I'm knackered, and just want to stay in for a night or two.

Norm-ing, Storm-ing, Performing

2011-03-01T21:37:00.002Z

I've recently unleashed the Lindsay and the Storm website onto an unsuspecting world. What the great unwashed may make of it is hard to say; I found a useful quote whilst studying Human-Computer interactions at University, which went something like:

It's almost impossible to predict how a first-time user will behave.

It's very true. Recently, I went to use Google Analytics, after not bothering my arse with it for a couple of years, so naturally the site had changed in that time. I spent quite a long while looking at the screen and clicking on stuff, wondering how to access the blasted things. Finally I realised there was a large blue button marked "Access Analytics", which seems so obvious now, but the first time round, for some reason, I didn't notice it.

So, if anyone wishes to say what their first (or subsequent, for that matter), impression of the above site are, then be my guest, and thanks!

I almost rang the Norm up the other day for a chat about music and what-not. I didn't, but then I mentioned my good intention to him, at Tommy's stag do. He looked rather startled by the notion. "Do people ring each other for chats anymore?" I wondered, feeling suddenly very, very old.

In other news, The Storm played with Miyagi at the Greenmantle pub on Nicolson Street on Friday. It was good to play live again, but we were plagued by feedback problems, and discovered afterwards that all of Peter's violin playing had been completely inaudible. Miyagi were good, at their best when slightly quirky and off-kilter, I thought. I wasn't so keen myself on the more country-tinged numbers that seem to have crept in to their set. Still, it all beats watching the telly of a Friday night.

Two fine CD's

2011-02-22T23:15:00.006Z

Last year, I bought two CD's down at the Blazer of Blueness, for £2 and £3 each. They're both very good, and have completely blown a hole in my theory that just guitar and voice can't hold your attention sufficiently over the length of an album. So, that's that theory then.

The CD's are:

Another Side Of Calum Carlyle by Calum Carlyle

and

Words and Tunes by Caro Bridges

Calum's CD is great, full of dark sentiments, as rich and bitter as a 70% cocoa bar of chocolate, but just as satisfying. If you want bile, Calum's got a bucketload on this, but it sure does sound good. The stand out track for me is "Where Do We Go From Here?", which conveys brilliantly a mood of edgy, nervous uncertainty at what (I presume) is the end of a relationship for the song's protagonist. My only minor gripe is the cover photo is out of focus, and slightly dull. A tad presumptuous of me, but maybe Calum would like this photo instead?

Caro's CD appears more pleasant on the surface, but peer beneath the reflections of this delightful pool, and something is stirring in the water . . . Like on the deceptively lulling "Let You Down" (my favourite track), it rolls on along amiably enough until suddenly a vaguely discordant note is played, and then it appears all is not well in that particular world either. There's a lightness of touch about some of the sunnier moments which make it the perfect compliment to the aforementioned platter. Why not get them both?

I listened to them both a fair bit last year when I spent a weekend being ill, and mainly lying in bed. A weekend, mark you, and annoyingly, I was OK for work on the Monday.

However, it did give me time to listen with my whole attention to these two fine CD's, something which I'm afraid I rarely do nowadays. I suspect in common with most people, music tends to be put on while I do something else. Maybe I only listened to music that 100% way when I was younger. Or, maybe I've now got more stuff to do in my life, I dunno.

At any rate, it was an interesting and rewarding experience, as I lay there with a high temperature. I'd heartily recommend you seek these out. And, even occasionally consider listening whilst doing nothing else.

The loneliness of the long-distance musician

2011-02-02T23:02:00.000Z

The other day The Storm played at Celtic Connections, which was the third time I'd played on the Danny Kyle open stage (once with the dazzling Norman Lamont & The Innocents). The DK open stage is a great thing, in my opinion, as it gives bands a chance to play with a decent PA and sound crew, to 230-odd people who are pretty much all listening to your music. To a non-musician, that probably doesn't sound much, but to those of us who plough this lonely furrow, it means a lot.

So, it was fun, and we enjoyed most of the other acts who performed too, one of which I'm hoping to tempt to the Listening Room at some point. So . . . surely I must have mentioned all this fun and enjoyment to my work colleagues, as I had to take a half day?

Well, no, I didn't. I can't be arsed explaining anymore to people at work why I do it, how very little financial reward there is, etc. For most people, it seems perplexing, or possibly a chance for some not-especially good "jokes" at your expense. So, I didn't bother. Then I wondered if I should have, so I enquired of the Doc if she'd mentioned it to the people at her work.

"Er . . . no", she said. That confirmed my reticence.


This is not me

Been listening to any good music recently?

2011-01-05T20:05:00.000Z

This is a question one is sometimes asked. Increasingly, I find my mind going blank when it is posed; I may mumble something about The National's latest disc, or I Am Kloot's understated album. Then, I usually realise why. "And, I've been listening to some really good music by local artists", I say, brightening with relief that I've remembered where all my music listening time has gone of late.

This news is usually greeted by a deep, uncomprehending silence. People don't know what to say. Some even look faintly embarrassed, as if I've admitted to something that should be kept private. I've been wondering why this is.

Part of the reason is that they (unless they too are a struggling local musician) probably haven't heard of any local musicians, so they know that they won't be able to have a conversation. (We'll put aside for one moment that they could easily say "Oh really? That sounds interesting, tell me more about them", or some such. They don't).

I think that for many, any notion of a "local" band/ musician is a shorthand for a crap band/musician. Why? Because they haven't made it, of course! If they were any good, they would surely be massive by now! Pointless to argue that the music biz is evidently not, and never has been, a meritocracy.

I wonder if the term "local" can be off-putting? "Locals" glare at you when you enter "their" bar. "Local" newspapers are full of non-news and tedious council meetings. And we know what "local shops" can bring to mind.

Perhaps "undiscovered" might be a better phrase?

Selfish

2010-12-16T21:44:00.003Z

Something's been bothering me of late. It's the thought that, in essence, pretty much all musicians are selfish bastards. Why do I make such a ridiculous accusation, you may say, when the light of their art shines on the drab corners of the world in which we live?

Well, when you think about it, being able to play music to any sort of reasonable level involves a lot of practice, a lot of time spent doing what you hope to be doing in front of an audience at some point. The problem is, for most of us, that audience is fairly likely to be extremely small. Wouldn't it be better all round if all that effort was channelled into something useful? Like, clearing snow off the streets, doing shopping for people, something, anything?

But, you cry, the pleasure those songs bring to others. Hmm, I mutter darkly. One person's pleasure is another's poison. I've quite often sat listening to some people and violently wished for a portable teleport or for a time-speeding device, i.e. it has brought the polar opposite of pleasure.

The trouble is, the more you focus solely on your craft (and probably yourself), the better you'll get. It's a vicious circle. Even the God-like Neil Young, in the excellent biography Shakey (which I'm reading at the moment), is not immune. A long-time friend of his commented:

Neil's a real artist, but he's a ruthless motherfucker. He's on his trip all the time. The wheels are always turning.

That's probably the way it has to be though.

------- Sudden Subject Change --------

On a totally different topic, have you been visiting the excellent Atheist Advent by Ben Young?

The First Time

2010-11-23T22:46:00.000Z

So, I was in London t'other day, playing with Andy "Big Hair" Thomson's band Fuzzystar for the Sparklehorse tribute gig. If truth be told, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much whilst retaining all my clothing. Not having played the electric guitar for literally years prior to the gig, I was a bit nervous.

The adrenalin was pumping somewhat as we took to the stage, and I had that weird realisation that you sometimes get when playing live, that each note and chord you play will boom out, and somehow become part of the atmosphere of the night. We played an older Fuzzystar song "Falling In Love" first, then two Sparklehorse songs, "Piano Fire" with me on harmonica, and "Pig", which is a somewhat riff-laden heavy number. The crowd seemed to like the first two, and we lit into the last like our lives depended on it, and rocked out. And, if I may make so bold, rhythm guitar is what I do best.

My brother claimed to have been "nearly blown backwards" by the volume, and said it was "the loudest gig he'd been to since The Ramones in 1980". George and the Doc liked it too. Result!

It made me think, just how utterly different that experience of playing the guitar is, to launching your newest acoustic song down at the Blazer. I did just that a few weeks ago, and I had a slightly different attack of nerves before that too. This time, I felt faintly ridiculous; I mean, what was I thinking? The song had seemed like a good idea when playing it in my room, but in the harsher environ of a pub, it seemed stupid. I felt mild nausea, and almost didn't play the thing.

In the end, people actually seemed to be listening to it (which is almost as disturbing as people not listening), and no-one publicly denounced me as a pretentious buffoon. Result again!

Gingers in Music

2010-10-02T18:58:00.002+01:00

I was speculating the other day if there really was any prejudice against people with ginger hair or not, given that this appears to be the country of their origin. It seemed to me that although sometimes subtle, some prejudice did indeed seem to exist.

Then, I started wondering if that prejudice extended into music. Is anyone's favourite musician a ginger? Mick Hucknall, anyone? Didn't think so. In fact, I shocked myself by not being able to think of a single red-haired muso that I liked.

Now I'm getting worried that I am prejudiced. Hold on a minute, I don't mind Ginger Baker, the Cream drummer, he was pretty good. Not sure if he'd make that hypothetical pantheon of "favourite" musicians though. Hmm.

(Thats enough of that! - Ed)

2010-09-21T22:07:00.007+01:00

I was thinking today, of the differences in writing a song, and in writing a novel or piece of prose. There's obviously a fair degree of difference between the two art forms, but I'm wondering if there's something to be learned from writing.

In the world of publishing, as far as I dimly comprehend it, a writer has an "editor", perhaps a slightly older person, who is not entirely unsympathetic to your work, but who ultimately wants the writing to "succeed" in some fashion. Usually for the financial gain of the publisher, but not always for that goal alone.

The writer submits a draft; the editor adds comments, such as "starts to wander a bit in the middle", "needs to be a bit shorter in this chapter", "are you sure the character would have said that at the end?", the writer makes amendments, and re-submits. (The reader should bear in mind at this point, that the above is based upon my loose understanding of such things).

However, the important part is the process not only of re-writing, tweaking words around and all that, but to listen to someone else's thoughts on the thing. Someone whom you trust, but who is outside of the creative process in question. I've been doing that with a new song recently, and it's been very beneficial. I've been hearing how certain lines are hackneyed, pompous, and over-used. And, they are. I've been lazy, and they need to be altered.

I have suggested changing a word or phrase in a song to different songwriters over the years. It's resulted in precisely zero changed songs. I remember Lou Reed remarking that re-writing lyrics was "not his favourite thing", but he did do that on his album "New York", and the result was critically lauded.

So, singer/songwriters, get off your precious soapbox ass about your lyrics! (That's enough of that - Ed).

A chart challenge

2010-09-14T22:45:00.000+01:00

I sometimes play a game with myself of a Sunday teatime, as I'm making the tea; I see if I can stand listening to the Radio 1 chart show for an hour.

If you try this, be prepared for people glaring at you and demanding to know why you're listening to "this shit" or some such. I usually do it to see what the fashions for production/sound engineering are, and if there's any discernible trends in music. Occasionally, even though I don't like a certain song, I can understand why it's become relatively successful. At other times though, it's success is entirely baffling, and I assume it's had a good video or other assistance (e.g. been used in an ad for yoghurt!), of which I'm unaware.

The music, though not usually to my taste, I can withstand for an hour. The real challenge is the presenters. Can you withstand their inane egotistical babbling for an hour? Can you tolerate their fawning puff-piece "interviews" with "stars" who already know their record is number one?

It's a hard road, but if you make it, then I doff my glossy-plumed cap to you. Probably best to be making something fairly involved for tea, like a massive curry from scratch, in order to not focus completely on it, and thus lose your mind.

Ego wall

2010-08-31T23:09:00.000+01:00

I've gone off my music a bit recently, and I've been wondering why. I've started wondering if it's because I've actually achieved a lot of what I wanted to do, albeit in a very small, non-commercial manner.

So, what have I done exactly? Well . . .

I played electric guitar in a fairly straight ahead indie pop band (Scatter)

I played acoustic guitar in an acoustic duo (Jim and Nelson/Flowers For Algernon, Mk I).

I played harp, by which I mean harmonica - note: not harpsichord, as was claimed in Visual Opinions ("Nelson Wright played the harpsichord and gave a wonderful texture to the piece") - in a Blues Band (Sawmill Buddhas, Mk I)

I played djembe and bass in Norman Lamont & The Innocents (Mk 3?), and also guitar in Norman's "Roadblock Band"

I played bongoes, djembe and an occasional full drum kit with the G (along with the aforementioned Obi-Norm-Kenobi)

I played bass with The Sawmill Buddhas Mk II

I played all of the above, apart from drums, in various incarnations of Flowers For Algernon. I played piano once for them too. Not that I can.

I played fairly distorted, reasonably loud and dirty electric guitar in a sort of heavy pop band (The Hairy Apes). "Surprisingly heavy" opined Mr Cakes at the time.

I played acoustic guitar and mandolin with Norm in The Wright Brothers.

I've also done quite a few collaborations, e.g. I've played guitar with Jill Hepburn, and Ben from The Honeyshot, harp for David Ferrard, electric and djembe for Ms Fi etc. I've doubtless done more than that, but I can't remember right now.

I currently play djembe and harmonica with The Storm.

So, I've been in an electric band, an acoustic band, an acoustic electric band, a two, three, four five and six-piece band, a folk-pop band, a blues band, a rock band, a pop band. I've written songs, I've written lyrics, I've arranged songs, written second and third guitar parts, sung backing vocals, got to know how the basics of how a studio and sound engineering works. Speaking of which, I've also done live sound, recorded sound (not very well), created music websites, organised music nights, designed logos, posters and fliers, handed out fliers in the streets, and flyposted.

Until relatively recently, the one thing I hadn't done was to play solo. It's not the most obvious course to pursue when one is 37, not least because the notion terrified me. Now though, I have managed to do that, and I've got to the point where I can tell that at least some people in the room want to listen. I think the culmination of this phase was playing a solo set at the Blue Blazer (along with the excellent musicians Fi, Dr S and Norm that is), something which I found unthinkable even a year ago. It's not exactly the Albert Hall, but for me, it meant the achievement of something.

So, what now? As much as I like playing the acoustic, I'm starting to miss playing the electric. There lies a whole other world though, one typically beset by the demons of transporting amps and drum kits, practice room fees, wasting hours at soundchecks, and a load more hassle for potentially no more gain.

The Last Picture Show

2010-08-26T18:57:00.000+01:00

I ambled along to The Picture House in Edinburgh on Sunday with the Doc of Rock, to see a very un-rock-like band, Beirut. I'd never been to this venue before, and was interested to see what it was like. I say I've never been here before, but I had once, a very long time ago, when it was an extremely grotty club. Thankfully, it's no longer grotty, and is in fact quite presentable inside. Kind of like a smaller, cleaner, more friendly Barrowlands, but without having yet earned that rock 'n' roll grit.

I wasn't sure what Beirut would sound like live, as a lot of their songs have orchestral instruments. It was surprisingly powerful, partly because they dispensed with any songs requiring strings, and instead focussed on the brass section ones. When a trumpet, trombone, and a higher trumpet-thing all blast in together, it fairly makes an impact. All the musicians were great, and the singing was excellent too. All in all, I think I enjoyed it more than I thought I was going to. And, all that without too many recognisable lyrics or choruses. As the Doc remarked though, it was like the instrumental passages were the choruses. I guess that's what they call a refrain?

It's a shame there aren't more bands that I want to see appearing at The Picture House, they often seem to have well-known covers bands or the like. That's the rough and tumble of the post-modern milieu I guess.

Did you see the drummer's hair?

2010-08-17T22:49:00.004+01:00

Possibly because I'm not in too many bands these days (whittled down from it's peak of five to my current one - The Storm), my imagination has started making up bands. Thus, we have:

No Meat For Bad Boy - These are a Japanese Post-industrial Techno-Metal band. I've no idea if that genre exists, or what it may sound like, but they're in it. It's kinda heavy, but has a weird pop feel at times, which is a bit unsettling. They're big in Japan and Belarus, and have sold about 200 records in Britain. Yet their arty posters are curiously popular on Leeds University students' bedroom walls.

Pagan Gizzard - Metal Nu-prog (again, I am a bit hazy about the exact genre, or if it even exists), but at least two of their members have plaited beards. They're Dutch, and have been touring Europe for a long time in their camper van. No-one knows why, but they're very popular in Birmingham, and have sold more records than you may think. Long-term fans refer to them affectionately as simply, "The Gizzard".

Not Pagan Gizzard

I was hosting the Listening Room on Sunday, after what seemed to have been a rather successful "Rum Club" evening. Rather a struggle with noisy fellows at first. "Is it really especially character-building playing to noisy disinterested people?" I wondered, as I went down like the proverbial lead balloon. If so, I should be getting beatified sometime soon, the amount of character I must have built up over the years.

An experiment

2010-08-11T17:44:00.001+01:00

So, I went with the Doc to see Susanna McDonald's Experimentalista show. I'd seen a sort of warm-up gig at OOTB some weeks before, so I had some idea of what to expect. What I hadn't realised was that Susanna was accompanied by a dancer, which is sometimes enough to make me run screaming from the room, but in this case, I think it worked.

The show itself was more reminiscent of cabaret-style entertainment than your average singer-songwriter showcase, which in my mind suited Susanna perfectly. All those years strumming a guitar, and she sounds better with a piano. Who'd have thought? There were tender moments, occasions of powerful drama, and even fear at some points. I'd recommend it. It's interesting to see a performer adapt to the Fringe, and it's well done in my view.

The only criticism IMHO would be that for me, there didn't seem to be a lot of recognisable choruses in the songs, although some I was hearing for the first time. For some people, that's not a problem, but I like to have something to hang off. It probably mattered less in this setting, as there was always a visual element to keep you entertained. But well done Susanna!

Do you want MOR?

2010-07-29T19:12:00.000+01:00

I've noticed an odd thing happening in my street. As well as bozos cycling on the pavements, people regularly walk right down the middle of the road, as they go up the street. Why they choose to do this, I do not know. Apart from the danger aspect, surely it's not particularly interesting to walk down a street staring at the backs of dully respectable parked cars as you do so. Not when you can have all the fun of looking into people's houses, gardens, talking to cats, etc. which you get from the pavement.

"Fair enough", you may be thinking, "But what's that got to do with music, Bozo features?"

It's just that I've often noticed a similar parallel in music. People, quite often very musically talented people, appear extremely keen to occupy a middle of the road position in music, in fact they've probably worked damn hard to do that. You know the sort of thing; incredibly polished, accomplished band, not a note out of place, sounded great for half a song in soundcheck, but come the gig, it's so bland it makes one feel faintly nauseous. You find yourself thinking, "With all that talent at their disposal, they came up with that??".

I find myself these days enjoying the more original artists, even if it's not performed perfectly. Practice be damned!!!!

The elimination of all I hold dear

2010-07-13T22:43:00.000+01:00

So, I was in London t'other day, which was brilliant. Again I am reminded of the massive part sunshine plays in life, and therefore, in music. At 31 degrees centigrade, suddenly reggae and samba make sense. I'm not sure if they truly do at 2 degrees looking out onto a windswept bleak day in Edinburgh so much.

Anyway. I had timed my run to London to perfection, arriving literally minutes prior to Andy BHT(Big Hair Thompson)'s band, fuzzystar & the malfunctioning androids, starting up, not bad from a range of 400-odd miles. It was very enjoyable, always interesting to see how solo acoustic songs sound as band songs. When you've a sideman of the quality of Andrew MH (Medium Hair) Thompson's quality, it's never going to sound bad.

Something else I've been contemplating though, is nothing other than the cold-blooded elimination of a personal part of my life. What I am talking about, is nothing other than punting all of my vinyl and CD's, hopefully after digitising them first in some form. It doesn't seem right; some of these records have been around longer than my oldest friends. They are inextricably intertwined with some of my formative experiences.

Why then, do this heinous act? For the grubby prosaic reality of saving space, ladies and gents of the jury, having recently moved to a place where there is a fair bit less of that. And also, some of that stock of music I haven't exactly been listening to on a regular basis. But, still.

So, any advice on what digital route to take???

Why cats?

2010-05-29T23:32:00.002+01:00

I've been wondering for a while now, just why it is that cats have become associated with music. There are hepcats (linked with "hipsters" in jazz, especially swing jazz), Keith Richards (for one) talks about musicians as "cats" all the time, the references constantly abound in the lyrics themselves, e.g. The Beatles cover of the Leiber/Stoller song "Three Cool Cats".

Perhaps I am clouded by my liking for cats, but there doesn't seem to be such a depth of reference in relation to other animals in music. Who Let the Dogs Out, anyone?? Yeuchh.

Possibly the only other rival could be birds. Again referrring to jazz, Charlie Parker was known as "Bird", and the bird is frequently referred to in lyrics as a shorthand for some sort of personal freedom. Apart from the aforementioned, though, rarely are musicians referred to as creatures of the winged feathered variety.

Is it because in some way, cats are associated with the unconscious, the rejection of "ordered" living, and a move towards the instinctive? And do musicians therefore tend to like cats more than dogs? It seems that way to me.

On the Pavement

2010-05-18T19:14:00.000+01:00

I went with The Doc to see Pavement in Glasgow the other day. It was an enjoyable gig, some fine musicianship going on. I hadn't been to The Barrowlands for quite a few years, I noted that it hasn't changed at all, still a bit grotty, but somehow still good as a live venue.

It's interesting that a band such as Pavement became (reasonably) commercially successful. On the face of it, they didn't seem likely candidates: random sounding lyrics, odd, unpredictable rhythms and chord changes, vocals which were clearly out of tune at times. Like the venue though, despite everything, it did somehow work. I think part of the pleasure one gets is the notion that they are flouting "mainstream" musical opinion (whatever that may be), and are gloriously random.

I imagine the reality is quite different and it involves a lot of hard work and repeated practice to get it all sounding cohesive, but I don't want to think about that.

Going out in front

2010-05-12T16:04:00.001+01:00

So . . . I played a gig as a front man for a band. A "band" in this case being a somewhat loose confederation of friendly bods who had never actually played the songs together until the final practice. Namely, The Doc, The Fi, and Obi-Norm-Kenobi. Still, in my mind that is a band, and being "only" acoustic at the jolly old Blazer probably only heightened the queasy feeling I got in my stomach during the day. No mic to hide behind, and variable powers of vocal projection, not to mention pitching.

In the end, it turned out all right, due in part to the tolerant good nature of the crowd there, most of whom I knew. Due also in no small part, to the talents of those friends who have been good enough to support this venture, and devote some of their time to it. It still didn't stop me clearing a fair section of the back room's seating, but better ones than I have also done that, so no shame there.

So, that's one more thing that I won't now wish to have done before I die. In musical terms, I've done a few different things, but I hadn't done that before, so it was an interesting experience. I don't think I'll be rushing to repeat it however, as I don't particularly like being the centre of attention, and I think I probably enjoy singing more than people like listening to me sing.

I think what it made me realise is how valuable the contribution of other people can be. Suddenly your half-formed idea sounds not half bad!

So much things to say

2010-04-20T23:15:00.002+01:00

Having something to say musically is certainly a good thing, but the other side to that is having people willing to listen. Usually, the willingness of people to listen can be influenced by the performer to a degree. In the right circumstances, a performer can still an entire room (cf. Jill Hepburn). In the wrong circumstances, it can barely matter what the performer does, e.g. Rum Club night down at the Blazer, after midnight at Nicol Edwards, etc. What may work in a noisy bar, may not in an art cafe, and vice versa.

So, it was with some interest, and a little trepidation, that The Storm played in The Hootananny in Inverness on Sunday, a venue previously unknown to us. How receptive would people be? The outside of the venue seemed to proclaim it's folk heritage, which made me wonder if the crowd would take kindly to us, not being traditional folk and all. I also wondered if there'd be any people there, as we didn't start until 10:15 on a Sunday night.

I needn't have worried on either count, as there were people, and they were willing to listen. Were there more receptive people than an equivalent Sunday night in Edinburgh? It certainly seemed so.

I'm still musing over why that should be the case. The layout and décor of the place helped: a wide welcoming room, seats where people could sit and see/hear the stage, no massive screens showing sport, photos from music festivals on the walls, volume at a level where people could still converse if they chose. I'm wondering if the stance of the promoter helped too; as well as the traditional folk sessions, he was interested in good quality original music, and there seemed to be a long-term strategy of encouraging that. Over a period of time, I'd imagine a venue gets a name for itself as having decent music, and people might pop along even if they didn't know the band.

It made a refreshing and encouraging change from the usual pressure to bring along a vast crowd of people, and never mind the musical quality. Despite obviously not being able to generate a massive crowd, we were still put on as the main act. People enjoyed it, people bought beer, venue made money, band even got paid (gasp).

Once again it seems it's worth it to leave Edinburgh when performing.

Some CD's

2010-04-07T19:15:00.002+01:00

So . . . what would be your favourite CD's by Lothian-based artists . . . ? It's a tough pick. I've gone for some below, but they're naturally skewed towards the more recent releases, and memory being the fallible instrument that it is, I have doubtless forgotten some which are very noteworthy. I've picked ones which have received a fair number of plays on my CD player.

Given the disclaimers above, we have, in no particular order:

Emily Scott - Longshore Drift
Jill Hepburn - Snowflake (hmm . . . is Falkirk in Lothian . . .? At any rate, I'm including it here)
Ben Young - Englandland
Machar Granite - Lost In History
Norman Lamont - The Wolf Who Snared The Moon
ballboy - Club Anthems
Aberfeldy - Young Forever
Ms Fi & The Misfits - Songs from the City of Edinburgh
Townhouse - Times & Tides

. . . and I cannot resist mentioning Lindsay & The Storm - Lindsay & The Storm EP. I'd like to mention Flowers For Algernon's "Organic" LP, but that would definitely be not so much veering towards bias, as driving to Biasville at 100mph whilst tooting my horn all the way.

Given my comments in my previous post about how important it is to vary arrangements and what-not, it may seem surprising to include Ben Young's CD, as it's just him and a guitar. In his case, I don't get bored, for some reason. Possibly because Ben combines many styles from around the world in his guitar playing (which is excellent), and possibly becasue I find his lyrics interesting, as they encompass sarcasm, humour, and observations about relationships.

If I was forced at gunpoint to pick one, in terms of the overall quality (leaving aside The Storm and The Flowers), I would be tempted to go for Jill's CD. Every song on it is of high quality, and it's been well recorded, with some interesting arrangements.

Arrangements

2010-03-22T20:49:00.003Z

I remember when I was but an excitable young guitarist in my early twenties, talking to what seemed (back then) a dinosaurianly old geezer in his early thirties. He opined that he was no longer particularly impressed if someone played him a very good song on the guitar, as loads of people had done that, including a friend of his.

Putting to one side for the moment the possibility of bias re his friend, I was back then somewhat shocked. My whole raison d'etre had been to try and craft finely-honed songwriting gems, learning the Simon & Garfunkel and Beatles songbooks, etc.

Now, however, I'm starting to see what he meant. Go to pretty much any open mic in Edinburgh of a weekday, and you will probably hear some very good, possibly even great, songs. But, they're still just songs on an acoustic, nice though they are. If you were to listen to a whole album of that, you would possibly get a bit tired before the end, due to the arrangement being all the same, i.e. one guitar, one voice, and the ear/brain combo naturally rebels against uniformity of sound.

But, you may cry, surely with a bit of judicious arranging, these songs could be filled out even more, like a songwriting Cutty Sark under a fair westerly? Ah, but therein lies a problem. It would appear that the same skills that enabled the young troubadour to fashion their heartfelt piece, do not spring from the same source that enable good arrangements. In fact, what can happen is that the song can be diminished, not enhanced, by a dull bass/drums arrangement, or a distracting melodic second instrument of some sort. Or the vocals are too quiet. Or the guitar sounds crap as it's been DI'd. Or . . .

In actual fact, it's very hard to arrange and record a song so that it does justice to the song itself, and doesn't get in the way of what the song's about. Choice of instrumentation, how everything sits in the mix, how effects are applied and to what, the room it's recorded in, the attitude of the sound engineer . . . the list could go on for a long time. It all somehow plays a part in the final recording. Speaking as someone who has oft-times been disappointed with their band's results from a recording session, I cannot claim knowledge of any of these secrets.

That's probably why, in the harsh light of reality, very few local artist's CD's are on repeat listening in my house. The songs may be there, but the arrangments aren't. There's some honourable exceptions to this, but in general, on getting the CD home, a vague sense of disappointment fills one on hearing the first few tracks.

Next issue: Those (IMHO) worthy CD's!!

Two local music nights

2010-03-10T22:46:00.000Z

I've been to two music nights in the past week, the first being Secret CD's, the night of ol' Hairy Legs himself. Prior to the gig I thought Ukellilli smacked of faintly irritating novelty fare, but on the night itself, it was actually better than I had anticipated. I found that I tired of the uke's musical possibilities quite quickly though, much like Impossibles John did. Speaking of which, it was very nice to see John again, now that Callum Haddow has gone to Australia, I'm going to propose him as the new "The nicest man in rock" (in the Edinburgh area, at least).

Despite the obvious technical accomplishments of both Windlestray and The Douglas Kay Band, I found it was Callum Carlyle's performance that I got the most out of. Possibly as I'd heard some of the material before, possibly because I sort of know him, and possibly because The Storm's cellist Al was playing bass, but mainly because I think his songs had something to say.

On seeing Mr Cakes the next day, I mentioned I'd been to the night. "Shit venue", he said immediately. Thinking about it, I've often been unable to see the band, and it can feel a bit claustrophobic. I think Jim has proved that there's an appetite for a night such as his, and the musical quality is usually very good, so logic would suggest a bigger venue. Not easy to find the right place though.

On to the Blue Blazer on Sunday, for Tommy MacKay, whom I hadn't seen for ages. Now sporting a crazy wild man's beard, he remains his affable self. Some people are naturally funny, and I think Tommy is one of them, there were times during his set that had me laughing like a maniac. Even more surprising perhaps, was turning to the Doc of Rock, and to find her in even more uncontrollable fits of mirth. There was a priceless moment, when Tommy was singing something suitably ridiculous, when his facial expression seemed to combine horror and revulsion, that will live in my chuckle-banks for many a year. Brilliant, and an engaging cameo from Big Jim's "Theakstons in the Sun" song too. Fun was had.

Diamonds v Domes

2010-03-01T22:18:00.000Z

The other day, I was listening to Radio 2's Saturday lunchtime show while making lunch. Up-and-coming popsters Marina & The Diamonds were on, but I thought the presenter had called them "Marina And The Domes". I was quite disappointed when I found out it was "diamonds".

Anyway, just now I had a listen to their latest single, and felt a bit bored quite quickly. Nothing awful about it, but why should I listen to a paler imitation of Kate Bush? I guess those young folks won't have heard of her, so won't care.

I think Mr Cakes' idea was good though. If they were the "Domes" and not the "Diamonds", she could have been surrounded by a bald backing band. That would have amused me, at any rate.

Lyrics

2010-02-21T09:34:00.001Z

Now, all those in favour of having the song lyrics printed on the CD/Vinyl cover, please raise your hands . . .? Ah. I thought so. Some of you actually like that.

For me, I have a number of objections to that. The first would be, that if a lyric isn't enunciated distinctly enough to be intelligible, then that's the way it is. It's part of the whole song. If, for example, I ever found out what Joe Strummer is actually saying at the end of "London Calling", I think I'd probably be disappointed. Right now, in my imagination, he's exhorting us to hark to some post-apocalyptic message, which could probably never live up to the vagaries of my mind. As has been noted, misheard lyrics are often better than the reality. The National's singer's style is often half-mumbled, and all the better for it. Same for Tindersticks. Some of Liz Frazer's finest moments would look faintly ridiculous in the cold hard light of the printed word.

But there's another objection, which is that lyrics don't stand up as poetry. It would be like trying to compare a car to a bicycle. Sure, they can both convey something, but the whole ethos behind them is different. Taking the lyrics out of their musical context, I think does them a disservice.

My final objection is that it also has the potential to be insufferably pompous. "Look at these great words", the cover seems to be saying, "are they not magnificent?". Nine times out of ten the answer is usually, er, no, they're not. It would have been better not to have known.

There's some obvious exceptions (Cohen, Dylan, Joni Mitchell), when I do actually want to know the lyrics. But, funnily enough, those artists have good diction, and I can understand the words without recourse to a book.

You know who I blame for all this? Yep, prog-rockers. They're usually to blame for most things.

Mind you, my objections are probably already pretty much outdated. With downloads at present, there's only the music file, the lyrics/cover art aren't currently bundled up into one format.

Different drum

2010-02-08T21:57:00.003Z

I went to the One World Peace Concert at the Roxy Art House on Saturday, with Obi-Norm-Kenobi and his wife. It was great, you got four bands (2 African-style, 2 Arabic), all playing various sorts of percussion and unusual instruments, and there was middle eastern food from Suzie's Diner too.

The only downside was the curious feeling of detachment that you get whilst at the Roxy, and the muddy sound. Both Norm and I had noticed that from a few years back, from both watching and playing there. But unfortunately, unless they invest a fortune in acoustic engineering the place, it will always be thus, being an old church and all.

That didn't dim the enthusiasm and energy of the performers though, and it was a refreshing change to hear so many different sounds, not least from all the percussion. I also realised that I had been playing my darabuka completely wrong. I shall have to see if I can add that drum sound to a suitable song of The Storm's at some point.

Way-hay!

2010-02-03T23:03:00.001Z

I have found a rather good site full of Tim Buckley guitar tabs & chords. It's called, quite winningly, "TIM BUCKLEY GUITAR TABS & CHORDS". I've a feeling that I may be spending some time there.

Apparently, Timbers was wont to tune his guitar down. Nothing unusual there, you may say, didn't Hendrix do that? Yes, but TB apparently ended up tuning (all) the strings down a full four frets/semitones lower (an "E" to a "C", etc). Rather unusual.

I'd probably better stop inexpertly bellowing out Buckley classics now, as it's after 11pm.

I like simple

2010-02-01T18:59:00.000Z

To have simplicity in music, whilst still retaining interest, I think is the ultimate goal. Music can of course be complicated and still be good, but the one does not necessarily follow the other.

I was thinking about this when listening to some of King Crimson's first album whilst round at Al's place. That album had a certain spark and energy of "the new" about it, and I could see why people liked it back in the day. Music hadn't really been done before like that.

However, I've also heard some quite revolting prog-rock bombast which aims to impress with it's alleged cleverness, but succeeds in only creating a stinking mire.

It's sometimes interesting to see what you can take out of a song, and still hold the listener's attention, rather than what you can add in.

Jill at the Blazer

2010-01-28T21:16:00.000Z

Went to the Blue Blazer on Sunday past, to see Jill Hepburn play. The Norm has written previously about how she can silence an audience, and her emotional honesty, with which I concur.

Having not heard her for a while, what struck me was the quality of the songwriting; the lyrics were inventive, funny in places, and strange in mysterious in others, and the melodies and chords were pleasingly varied, from folk-tinged, to jazzy, to an almost Noel Coward-esque trip round the solar system in "Why Stop at The Moon?". I was wondering if she'd be loud enough for the Listening Room, but she was perfectly clear and audible.

Which reminded me again, that sometimes there's a difference between a voice carrying, and a voice's volume. Some people have both of course, such as Peter Michael Rowan. Some people can certainly be loud. Not everyone can master the trick of having your voice heard well in a pub though.

Now I've gone and left her CD round at The Doc's place, and I really want to hear it. That always seems to happen with CD's you like, aargh!!

Scottish Links

2010-01-23T16:42:00.000Z

The Storm unexpectedly played Celtic Connections last night, on the Danny Kyle stage again, which was fun. Lindsay and Karen played there last year as a duo. At least we got more than two hours warning this time (it was two days), so we could all make it. That meant a first gig for The Storm as a four-piece, with new members Al and Peter.

I wonder sometimes what the remit of Celtic Connections actually is, beyond being a music festival in Glasgow. There's oft-times a strain of folkiness involved, which I do my best to ignore. There's often too a fair number of artists performing who don't appear to have any connection with Scotland, either in their music or their person, but hey, let's not allow pedanticism stand in the way of a good gig.

And, to be frank, it was a good gig. It's also probably one of the best gigs we're going to play for a while. Somewhere around 300 people in the audience who actually listen to you (for non-musicians out there, this is indeed rare), the sound engineers are polite and capable, the compere lady friendly and knowledgeable. Compare that to a drafty Tuesday night at say, The Ark, and we're talking calcium carbonate and Scottish cheddar.

Why then, a certain lack of jubilation, a certain flatness, post-gig? It's probably because we weren't quite ready for it, the gig came too soon in our new incarnation's development. Nothing was obviously wrong, no horrendous notes were played, and I think we stayed in pretty good time. And, people said nice things afterwards. But I think we lacked that magical ingredient of togetherness that bands only develop after a period of time playing together. And, one also holds out some hope that someone, somewhere may just here you and invite you to . . . dunno, but something good. But, they never do.

Still, a good start to the Storm's doubtless phoenix-like rise from the ashes of the old Storm.

Listening Room Sunday

2010-01-18T20:14:00.000Z

I suspect that for many, attending The Listening Room at the Blue Blazer of a Sunday, is akin to denying the existence of work the next day. If you stay in the house, one's thoughts tend to drift towards the morrow, and can enter a sullen place. No, we choose instead to be terrified by playing without a mic in a noisy environment, to often disinterested and/or drunk people. At least it takes your mind off things.

Last night's affair was compered by The Norm, and the usual suspects followed. Good and enjoyable though that all was, I'm starting to think that the night needs to find a few more "regulars" who play there, some fresh blood. Fresh meat. Open mics are like sharks, they have to keep moving and devouring in order to survive. Promotion of the night is the key to that, but that is essentially an administrative task that no-one wants.

And that's really the root of the issue. Musicians don't want to spend their time doing that. If a non-musician were to organise a similar night, I think people might be a) slightly suspicious of their motives, and wondering what they got out of it, and b) probably think they have no experience of what being a musician is like, and so wouldn't respect them. On the other hand, if an average musician organises a night, it's often a barely running disorganised shambles.

There's another problem, too. Those people who are willing to do that stuff (but are also musicians), often get inspired by all that creativity on show. As a result, they end up wanting to do more music, which gives them less time to do that boring admin stuff. A bit of a catch twenty two.

I think perhaps Peter Michael Rowan's idea for OOTB back in the day is still valid; apply for a grant from the Scottish Arts Council or another funding body for a part-time person to do all the various admin tasks for running a successful original music open mic night. Surely that must stimulate grassroots musical creativity.

You say ego, I say . . .

2010-01-14T19:22:00.000Z

Practising last night for my terrifying attempt at a solo gig (scream) with the creature known as the Fi, everything was running smoothly until an attempted cover version. Being British, we didn't say exactly what we thought. I could tell Fi wasn't too keen, but I insisted. Eventually she offered the opinion that "we don't want it to sound like a bad karaoke version of the song". Even I could tell that meant something not particularly good.

In the more objective light of the next day, I think she may have been right, and I think I may drop that cover. But, it made me ponder over when to go with what you think, and when to listen to others. Ultimately, there's no easy answer. It probably is a valuable exercise to try and curtail your ego, and to do what's best for the song/set. On the other hand, without the prompting of that ego, you'd probably have never got up on stage in the first place.

I'm not talking about standing up and shouting "Look at me! I'm the best musician you've ever seen!". Just by being on that stage however, you are saying that you think you have something to offer, something slightly different, something interesting, something curious, a new twist, some energy. Would the Beatles have been the same without John Lennon's ego? Without Paul's? Not really much of a Sex Pistols without an ego going on. No Hendrix, no Who, no Public Enemy, no Kinks. So, we have it to thank for some great music.

The hard part is knowing when your ego is being a twat.

Edinburgh's most successful band?

2010-01-09T09:58:00.001Z

I was shooting the breeze the other day, about how some Edinburgh-based musicians had found some sort of success in London. I starting wondering what bands/artists from Edinburgh had actually managed to achieve any sort of success. It depends how you define success of course, but I couldn't think of too many. In fact, that horrific spectre of The Bay City Rollers always looms up in this type of conversation, like Banquo's ghost. They had commercial success, and their breezy pop is fine in it's way, but I don't think too many people would rate them as being musically interesting.

So, what's left? Er . . . hmm. Pilot? With two songs of note? The Chimes? Same. Tempting though it is to claim The Cocteau Twins, they're from Grangemouth. You could certainly make a case for Bert Jansch. I don't want to mention The Incredible String Band, as I don't like them, and I don't think the passing of the ages has been too kind to their brand of hippy whimsy. Surely there must be somebody since the early 90's? Probably, but I can't think of them.

So, you may say, who cares? It's just that I'm wondering if Edinburgh is big enough to sustain the illusion of having a music "scene", but not big enough to actually have one. I mean in terms of enough decent venues and people willing to go to gigs, to sustain a healthy one in reality. It's got the quality musicians, but you need more than that.

Unconvinced

2010-01-07T23:00:00.000Z

I had the unusual experience recently of watching two TOTP's on consecutive weeks. It's unusual for anyone, come to think of it, as they've stopped broadcasting it, but this was the Xmas chart, and the "Best" of 2009 chart.

In the main, it consisted of stuff that I didn't like. But, watching with an objective head on, it was quite interesting to see what had sold. Or what they had somehow persuaded us to buy. They being the record company/promotion company. I saw people that I'd heard of, but never actually seen.

One singer was Alexandra Burke, doing a fairly involved dance routine to a song called, I think, "Bad Boys", who apparently were always catching her eye, or some such. Now, she's an attractive woman, she can sing, and there's nothing wrong with the song in that it sounds current and is catchy. I still thought it somehow didn't work in some way though, but I wasn't sure why.

It took the Doc of Rock to put her finger on it, when we saw her on the second TOTP. "Not very convincing, is she?", she observed. I instantly knew exactly what she meant. That was why I'd thought something was amiss before. I just didn't believe her when she sang "the bad boys are always catching my eye".

Perhaps it worked for other people. For me (and The Doc) though, the performance just wasn't believable, which kind of invalidated the whole thing. I've seen the same thing at live gigs and open mics in Edinburgh many a time, when performers failed to convince. Perhaps they were trying to imply they were a life-weary old traveller who'd seen everything, when in reality they were a fresh-faced youth from Penicuik, and the limit of their travelling was the bus to Edinburgh.

But sometimes people are convincing. That's when the magic starts happening, and you believe for a moment what they're telling you, that they really were in prison for loving someone, or they had made time stop, or the character in the song really had kept racing pigeons, or whatever.

Where this convincing-ness comes from, I have no idea.

Would you pay for it?

2010-01-05T19:17:00.000Z

This is a question that is often asked by people in relation to art in general, and more often than not, in relation to music. Quite why people should ask that is possibly a more interesting question. Maybe it's something to do with the commercialisation of a large number of aspects of our life, including art.

Anyhoo, recently Mr Norman Lamont (yes, the same of "The Wright Brothers" fame), posted on his blog to the effect that he had a thin crowd at one of his "Waveforms" gigs. To those of you who don't know, they consist of instrumental pieces that are played on a guitar, and looped to build layers of sound, with effects added. They're also semi-improvised.

Jim "Hairy Legs" Igoe commented to the effect that he was sorry he'd missed the gig, but that he'd be willing to pay to hear a performance in future. That set me thinking: would I be willing to pay for the same? I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't be. But why?

After pondering it for a while, I had a few realisations. I've listened to Norm's waveforms in two different (free) venues, The Beanscene and St John's Church, at the west end. When I say "listened" in this sense, I mean they provided pleasant background music, and didn't occupy the whole of your attention. Which is perfectly fine, especially in those venues. The vast echo of St John's in particular gave them an epic quality.

But, to cut to the chase, what I really like about Norm's playing is his ability to connect with an audience, to beautifully turn a witty line in one of his songs, the banter with the crowd, the unique way he sings, the whole general emoting. None of that is present in Waveforms with what is, essentially, a guy fiddling with his loop pedals, pleasant and well-executed though that may be. Hell, I could probably do something interesting myself on a loop station and guitar. But there's no way I could do what Norman does when he plays his "normal" set live, as that is unique. And that's why I wouldn't pay for Waveforms, but why I have paid for his live performances and CD's.

But, as I said at the beginning, that doesn't mean that they didn't work in context; they did, and in a way that a more traditional "live" performance may have jarred somewhat.

Hi

2010-01-05T09:33:00.000Z

Hello. "What the hell is all this, then?", I hear you ask. These are my random, unstructured thoughts on the music scene in Edinburgh and beyond. It'll probably focus more on the acoustic side of things rather than rockin' bands, as that's what I've been more involved in of late. Not that there's anything wrong with rockin' bands.