writewyattuk

Thankful for Evan’s continued presence

Posted on June 28, 2013 by writewyattuk

FROM the moment Evan Dando ambled onto the stage upstairs at Preston’s 53 Degrees on Thursday night, a surprisingly-small but nevertheless appreciative audience was hooked.

The charismatic frontman of 1990s’ US success story The Lemonheads has occasionally made headlines these past two decades, but not always for his song-writing prowess.

But rock’n’roll excess apart, Dando’s still with us, and on the evidence of this performance still has so much to offer.

His casual approach and the size of the gathering might have suggested we were in for a below-par performance, but that certainly wasn’t the case. And from the opening chords of Down About It, we were in the palm of the Massachusetts master’s hands.

Dando dropped by at the University of Central Lancashire venue en route to Glastonbury, between further acoustic appearances in York and Oxford showcasing one big man, his guitar and wondrous voice.

Somehow, he fitted nearly 30 songs into barely an hour and a quarter set, the bulk of those from the albums that turned many of us on to his talent two decades ago, It’s a Shame About Ray and Come on Feel the Lemonheads.

There was little surprise that his biggest hit, a cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s Mrs Robinson, wasn’t included, but we got the quirky b-side, Being Around, and so much more besides.

Dando’s had a complicated last 20 or so years, pretty well documented elsewhere, some of which you can read between the lines on his 2003 solo album, Baby I’m Bored, which also got a good showing here.

And while we got little more than the odd ‘thank you’ between songs, he was well received and returned the compliment in some style.

From 1990’s Ride With Me (from Lovey) to 1996’s The Outdoor Type (from Car Button Cloth) we got a real flavour of The Lemonheads’ output, and Baby I’m Bored‘s Hard Drive, All My Life, Why Do You Do This To Yourself? and sublime My Idea suggested a man still on his game a decade after that commercial peak.

With the songs stripped down to the bare bones, you could also clearly hear the country feel beneath the indie influence, not just on Stovall and George’s Long Black Limousine and Gram Parsons’ How Much I’ve Lied, but his own songs too.

In fact, the basic voice and guitar set-up brought to mind Billy Bragg’s union with Wilco on the Woody Guthrie project, while there’s more than a hint of Elvis Costello there too. And the covers of Lucinda Williams’ Big Red Sun Blues and Like A Rose, Victoria Williams’ Frying Pan and Neil Young’s Barstool Blues were also inspired.

But it was mostly about Dando’s own catalogue, with his voice as stirring as ever on Big Gay Heart, Favorite T, It’s About Time, My Drug Buddy, Paid to Smile and Rudderless, while the straight indie pop of Bit Part, Confetti and The Turnpike Down were given an extra edge.

Elsewhere, Hannah and Gabi and Rockin’ Stroll reminded me of Dando’s winning way with words, and there were nice surprises too, not least the cover of Smudge’s Divan which ended the set.

That wasn’t the end of course, and in barely a minute he returned, his assistant (I hesitate to use the term ‘roadie’) at his side, mouthing along to It’s A Shame About Ray and surrepticiously checking his ‘cell’ phone during a mellow Barstool Blues.

Then, barely drawing breath, our East coast troubadour treated us to two more covers, an a capella Frank Mills and almost hymnal version of Billie Holiday’s Gloomy Sunday, bringing a perfect end to a pared-down but powerful set.

* With much appreciation for Darren Lynch, following his help with the ED set-list on the night

Posted in Music | Tagged 53 Degrees, Baby I'm Bored, Big Gay heart, Boston, Come on Feel the Lemonheads, Elvis Costello, Evan Dando, Glastonbury, It's A Shame About Ray, Lemonheads, Preston | 4 Comments

On the write track – 10,000 hits and counting

Posted on June 23, 2013 by writewyattuk

Favourite Things: Just some of the inspirations behind the first 15 months of the writewyattuk blogsite

FIFTEEN months ago, this here scribe decided to try and spread the word about his writing by setting up a blog, despite a few nagging doubts and advice that suggested it might involve a bit too much hard work and aggravation and involve more than a little procrastination.

For starters, I had little enough time as it was for the one goal I’ve ever really wanted this past couple of decades – getting my novels published.

But after leaving journalism following 15 years reporting and sub-editing for local newspapers and moving closer to my full-time writing dream, I realised – despite all my scribbling and ham-fisted word processing over the years – there was very little out there in cyberspace to show prospective agents, publishers, industry professionals and readers.

Times have changed, and the days when you could sit in comfy armchairs with a tray on your lap – a la Roald Dahl – knocking out novels with flowery handwriting, passing them to a typist and editor then waiting for launch night schmoozes with contemporaries are long gone (if they ever existed). Now you’ve got to do the networking number too – hence my late conversion to facebook, twitter and all that. And for the modern writer, it seems that blogging is pretty important too.

Get Out: The blogger’s mock front page to mark his 2010 departure from local journalism

I was fresh from a master of arts in writing for children at the University of Central Lancashire, following that with various chin-wags with tutors, fellow freelancers and publishing professionals, career advisors and business support types – all in their own way pointing to the importance of getting something out there for free first.

I’m tired of telling people that the emphasis on the term freelance journalist for the past couple of years has been on that first syllable, but things are gradually coming together – the profile’s growing, the CV’s getting heavier, and now it’s time to concentrate on finishing all those novels and scripts, despite the continued distractions.

This blog may not have been a runaway success, but it’s certainly serving its purpose – and this very weekend moved on to 10,000-plus views in those 15 months. Some will turn their nose up at that, but this is no one-topic site compiling YouTube clips of cats that look like 20th Century despots, idiots abroad slipping up in their undies, or rattling out rumours about D-list celebs. I’m not being stuck-up there, just reiterating that it’s all my own work, and hopefully I’ve really got something to say that’s worth hearing.

The subject matter is pretty varied of course, from classic sitcom appreciations and tributes to steam railwaymen to a love of lower-league football and my take on required reading, and an appreciation of everything from classic 60s soul through to guitar-driven indie bands. Chiefly, it’s about literature, music, history, sport, the great outdoors, my home county Surrey, adopted county Lancashire, and favourite holiday spots. But not just those topics either. Sometimes it’s personal too, as will become more the case as I lead on to some of the subjects in those as-yet unpublished novels.

Despite my background in magazine and newspaper production (alongside parallel lives as a sports reporter, news-hound, fanzine writer, band manager and lesser day jobs), this was never meant to be a perfect model. But until I can afford my own all-singing all-dancing website, this wordpress format is certainly a winning option. I’m not making any money out of it, but at least I don’t have to worry about all those balls-aches like spam and system failures (much).

Getting back to my point (if there is one), I’m pretty chuffed with 10,000 hits, even if I’ve been involved with a friend’s website since it went live last October and he’s already on the brink of a staggering 75,000 hits (with just three of us writing). That’s truly impressive, and makes me wonder if my own site is showing up on enough search engines. But it doesn’t detract from my sense of pride about writewyattuk’s success.

Woking Wonder: Paul Weller’s Sonik Kicks was the first album to get a writewyattuk review

I started with just a few lines about myself, posting ‘Apprehensive scribbler joins the world of blog’ on the last day of March 2012, following that with four proper pieces that April, covering everything from my take on the 100th anniversary of the RMS Titanic disaster through to the release of the Paul Weller album Sonik Kicks, via a piece on past and present cycling exploits and my take on the National Trust’s ’50 Things to do before …’ campaign.

A lot of reads from friends, family, old schoolmates and past and present workmates surely helped, and I’d at least got off to a semi-competent start, with 91 hits that month to add to the two from March (yes, two, but it was an … erm, closely-guarded secret at that stage).

The following month I added something about my love of vinyl and the pitfalls of record collecting, a Subways review from The Manchester Ritz, and the first of many London 2012 and table football tales. The Olympic pieces proved a hit from there, while the table football series – confusing the public, alternating Euro 2012 and Yooro 2012 stories – was largely ignored (figures suggesting less than 100 specific reads between the lot). But it’s all a learning curve.

By June I’d added my first book review, for Pete Cross’ Shadows in the Sky, and an appreciation of The Wedding Present centred around the release of Valentina, while an author event with Eoin Colfer led to a piece about book classification for children, and a Tony Parsons review led to an in-depth interview with the man himself, as the hits started to accumulate.

While the Olympics and Paralympics continued to inspire articles, the new football season took me on to the first of my features on the delights and perils of supporting (from afar these days) my beloved Woking FC, which have probably accounted for at least a quarter of my traffic so far – not bad for a club only ranked around the 100-mark in England and Wales at present, yet clearly one that inspires me and countless other real footie fans.

Derry’s Finest: The Undertones were always an inspiration for this blogger (Photo courtesy of BBC)

By September I’d added a heartfelt piece about my love for The Undertones, the first of a few features inspired by those excellent weekend BBC Four documentaries clogging up my DVD recorder. And that next month I published a pretty wide range of stories – from 25th anniversary recollections of the Great Storm of ’87 through to rants on racism in football, over-pricing at grounds, eye-watering injuries, and a personal tribute to a fellow sports fan – the latter suggesting a game shift (so to speak) after helping launch sportnw.co.uk.

November’s stories ranged from a literary review and tour of Pendle witch heartland to mark Hallowe’en, further campaigning for local libraries, a Remembrance Day tribute to England international and First World War hero Evelyn Lintott. There were also tributes to Dad’s Army star turn Clive Dunn and Munich ’58 victim Kenny Morgans. And December highlights included a popular feature on crime-writing bestseller Ian Rankin and a timely seasonal appreciation of glam giants Slade.

So to 2013, outing myself as a steam railway enthusiast, Madness fan and Tweeter in January, featuring three deserving performance poets in February, and hailing David Bowie’s latest platter, my first live internet broadcast review (Neil Finn and Paul Kelly, live from Sydney Opera House), Public Service Broadcasting and The Blockheads live reviews, and a personal tribute to horror writer James Herbert.

Leg Ends: Noddy Holder and Mark Radcliffe rocked Preston, in their own way

By April, I’d penned posts about inspirational cancer-battling r’n’b legend Wilko Johnson, and the month after a piece on Noddy Holder and Mark Radcliffe’s Preston visit. Then came an interview with Bruce Foxton which has so far proved my biggest hit, with 600-plus views, with my Otis Redding appreciation (again BBC Four-inspired) the following month not far behind on around 400 hits.

You’ll note I’ve been a bit vague with those hit counts, not least as more than 2,000 clicks have come through my home page, readers scanning the archives rather than hitting specific stories. In fact, it’s those ones that always intrigue me most. Is it Random House checking me out? Or perhaps it’s Danny Boyle, Frank Cottrell Boyce, Noddy Holder, Wilko Johnson, John O’Neill, Paul Weller, Bradley Wiggins or Geoff Chapple. The same goes for all those who’ve viewed my ‘About’ section. Who really knows who’s looking?

For those who don’t want to know the stats, look away now. But generally, there’s been month-by-month increases in traffic, going over 700 for the first time last July, and never dipping below 425 since. What’s more, I’ve had 900-plus monthly views four times, and this June has been the best yet – with just off 1,500 hits with a week to spare.

So there you have it, with more than 90 posts so far and No. 100 not far off, as soon as I can find the time between other projects, paid and voluntary work, and domestic duties. Regrets at starting this blog? None at all. I’ve made some new friends and good contacts, I’ve spread the word about my writing, it’s been a blast, and I’d recommend blogging to anyone with a passion for words and telling us something that’s truly worth hearing.

Now then, back to those novels …

Out of interest

Early Days: The blogger in the ’70s, taken by familly friend Mick Worsfold, atop a pillbox set to feature in at least one of his future novels

While not writing this blog and taking on several other jobs to ensure he pays his mortgage and helps support his family, the fella behind writewyattuk offers copy-writing and editing services alongside his novel, TV and film script exploits for adults and children. He also aids other writers on their projects, and offers various ghost-writing, promotional and web services for businesses, clubs, charities and individuals. He’s also been known to tweet somewhat via @writewyattuk, but don’t hold that against him.

Posted in Adventure & Travel, Books Films, TV & Radio, Music, sport, The Blogger | Tagged Bruce Foxton, Eoin Colfer, Ian Rankin, lancashire, Madness, Otis Redding, paul weller, Slade, Surrey, The Undertones, The Wedding Present, Tony Parsons, Woking FC | Leave a comment

Sound affects on a midsummer’s night

Posted on June 22, 2013 by writewyattuk

Setting Up: (from left) Russ, Tom and Bruce sound-checking at 53 Degrees (Photo: From The Jam)

ON such a warm and sticky night at a packed 53 Degrees in Preston, there were always likely to be technical imperfections in this From the Jam performance.

But while I couldn’t quite hear enough of Bruce Foxton’s backing vocals and Russ Hastings’ guitar might have been lost in the mix at stages, this was another storming performance from a band that have always been more than a mere tribute act.

Like the midsummer night itself, it was over far too quickly, yet it shouldn’t surprise me that a band carrying on the legacy of one that mastered the art of three-minute singles should have packed in so many quality tunes.

With such a great selection to choose from – in just five years of recorded output – it would be foolish to try and work out before what songs would be played on the night. Instead, you have to just go along for the ride and see where the band takes you. After all, The Jam left us a musical canon with added bang.

It’s been five and a half years since I last saw Foxton and Hastings at this UCLan venue, at which point original Jam drummer Rick Buckler was still on board and keyboard player Dave Moore also featured. A lot’s changed since, but – if anything – the returned three-piece dynamic proves the live power of this ensemble even more.

Hastings is certainly no karaoke Paul Weller, despite the similarities in singing and guitar style, but has a similarly dominant yet also engaging stage persona. Meanwhile, Foxton’s still his own man, with those great harmonies, occasional lead vocals and wondrous bass lines, and also one of the established music scene’s good guys.

Foxton and Hastings combined to wonderful effect with their own songs recently on Back in the Room, the former’s first solo album in almost 30 years, with two of those tunes given an airing at Preston, the superb Number Six and Window Shopping.

But most of this audience came to hear the classics, and while there are occasional airings by Weller these days, From the Jam have as close as possible to that original band spirit, completed by energetic young Tom Van Heel, taking over the drumstool vacated by Mark Brzezicki while he’s off on tour with Big Country.

They came on to the sound of the underground – late ’70s style – and launched straight into Down in the Tube Station at Midnight, The Modern World, and established Kinks cover David Watts.

From there, the hits kept coming, Going Underground just one of the audience highs before a storming first album Larry Williams cover Slow Down, then the more reflective b-side gem The Butterfly Collector.

After the new songs came Foxton’s signature piece Smithers-Jones then Setting Sons’ powerhouse Thick as Thieves, like everything else here still fresh all those years on.

As The Blockheads did at the same venue three months before (with a review here), Hastings dedicated a song to cancer-battling r’n’b inspiration Wilko Johnson, in this case Northern Soul tribute Non-Stop Dancing from that first Jam album in 1977, before the more reflective Ghosts from the final Jam LP, The Gift.

Then came a stonking That’s Entertainment, the bass-driven It’s Too Bad, and The Who cover So Sad About Us. And when the trio launched into a mighty Eton Rifles the joint was jumping again, with the sub-two-and-a-half minute classic Start keeping that focus, and Strange Town and When You’re Young as good as finishing off most of those no-longer-so-physically-young down the front.

Our winning trio came back once more for full-on renditions of In The City and A Town Called Malice, then voiced their heart-felt thanks to a truly passionate crowd, and gave a collective bow – just like the old days – before heading off into what was left of this all-too-short but pretty damn perfect summer night.

* For an in-depth interview with Bruce Foxton on this site, head here and for the writewyattuk appraisal of Back in the Room, try this link

* To keep in touch with From The Jam head to their own website here and their facebook page here

Bouzouki Drive: Preston’s Deadwood Dog

* There was also a winning performance on the night from Preston outfit Deadwood Dog, playing to a largely appreciative hometown crowd, giving their own alternative bar folk twist on life.

Think of the Men They Couldn’t Hang with Midnight Oil type vocals and a little Bellowhead thrown in, all delivered with a broad Lancashire accent. Add to that heady mix the band’s own description of ‘a supergroup made up of the Levellers, IRS-years REM and the ghost of Joe Strummer, all jamming in a Baltic bar’, and you’re not far off!

Despite plenty of their own compositions, the highlight for the first-timers was a bouzouki-driven cover of Kraftwerk classic The Model. And while this scribe will always prefer the Members’ version from Going West, this one fairly rocked too.

* For more on Deadwood Dog, head to their facebook page here and check out a couple of songs here. Their debut album, United Colours of Bigotry, is out on July 13, with pre-orders available at a special price.

* With thanks as ever to Mark Charlesworth behind the scenes at 53 Degrees

Posted in Music | Tagged 53 Degrees, All Mod Cons, Back In The Room, Bruce Foxton, From The Jam, In The City, Preston, Russ Hastings, Setting Sons, Sound Affects, The Jam, Tom Van Heel | 5 Comments

Road to Rouen – Ben Hatch

Posted on June 14, 2013 by writewyattuk

French Odyssey: Wake up and smell the cheese with Ben hatch’s latest family travelogue

For those who enjoyed the last thrilling instalment of life on the open road with the Hatch family – 2011’s Are We Nearly There Yet? (with my review here) – I should stress that the follow-up – Road to Rouen – involves a major change.

On the face of it, there are many parallels. Last time it was an 8,000-mile child-friendly tourist-attraction led UK tour based around free accommodation, financed by a leading guide-book publisher, whereas this time it’s a 10,000-mile epic family holiday around France, with similar levels of blagging and freebies.

But this time – wait for it – the family’s coveted master travel document holder, Ben Hatch, son of late, great BBC comedy writer and producer Sir David Hatch, reckons he’s learned from past mistakes and is doing things entirely different.

Different in what way? Well, he’s swapped a chaotic suitcase-led packing system for a far superior inter-changeable ‘squishy-bag’ model, to avoid those strategical heavy-baggage nightmares struggling to locate vital items at key moments. So what can possibly go wrong?

I don’t need to continue that thread. You get the picture. Lots can go wrong, and does. But this is no second-rate farce based on taking the piss out of the French (although there’s a fair bit of that) and wacky adventures (despite a few of those too). It’s far more than that, thanks to a style of writing which -like the first instalment – offers echoes of Bill Bryson and Michael Palin at their rib-tickling best. What’s more, it’s based around real-life characters many of us will empathise and sympathise with.

This time, Ben and his very patient wife – travel journalist Dinah – have slightly-more rebellious trip-mates, with their children Phoebe, 7,and Charlie, 4, now slightly older and wiser. Other than that though, much of the premise for the last best-seller remains – not least the mammoth proportions of their challenge and resultant wear-and-tear threatening the stability of the family unit – something no amount of free hotel stays, meals and tourist spot excursions can hide.

If last time’s trip left us feeling drained and so glad it was them and not us making the journey, this is no different. But even when Ben and Dinah’s under-pressure relationship threatens to break down beyond repair, you’re still on their side. In short, this is a family you know you’d get on with – however much of a nightmare they seem at times.

For Road to Rouen they swap a smelly Vauxhall Astra for a soon-even-smellier VW Passat with quite a lot of unnecessary cheese on board. And as it is, I’m gone within a couple of pages as our patriarch describes a semi-emotional goodbye to his family’s Brighton home, while conspiring with Charlie to tackle an annual ant infestation with the help of a freshly-boiled kettle (while Dinah’s not watching).

Say Cheese: Ben Hatch

Soon, our Hatch heroes are on their way, despite the fact that Ben speaks no French, heading for the Newhaven-Dieppe ferry and a three-month summer adventure that’s part car-crash-TV and part tribute to the parents’ love for each other and their children. And while this is no pass-the-sick-bag sentimental journey, there are plenty of chances to feel groggy en route.

The opening piece about the ants is just one of many high-comedy pieces by the author, and this is one of those books you can annoy the hell out of your friends with. In my case that involves laughing out loud then reading sections back to my better half, who after a few such encounters gets the huff as ‘it’ll be pointless me reading it soon’.

In a similar vein, I should mention the section further in where she woke up one night to find the bed shaking as I tried to suppress a fit of giggles at one description (well, that’s my story, and I’m sticking with it).

Soon the Passat is falling to bits, with a golf putter (one of four brought along so they can sneak on to crazy golf courses without paying) needed to stop a rusty-hinged boot cracking your head, and the glovebox propped shut by a tea flask to avoid the interior light flattening the battery. And then there’s the cheese.

In this state, the family take in Normandy, the Loire Valley, Brittany, and all points beyond, weighed down with everything from a tent to wedding outfits and Postman Pat costumes (find out for yourself). Amid this perfectly-executed travelogue there’s the back-story of an often-tempestuous relationship between two rather-obsessive grown-ups – brutally honest at times – as Ben waits anxiously to see if his novel will be published, Dinah worries about her plans to re-train as a French teacher, and the couple try to work out how best to tackle the rogue builder who stitched them up before their departure.

But whatever lows they encounter, their relationship pulls them through, just as it did amid the emotional turmoil described in the first book as Ben came to terms with losing his parents.

While that’s at the heart of the story, it’s those great comic moments that keep us turning the pages, and at times you sense the panic in the over-officious tourism officers as the sometimes-challenging, certainly characterful Hatchlings Charlie and Phoebe reign supreme in their temporary homeland.

There’s added help too at the end of the telephone or via FaceTime from Ben’s brother Buster, the BFBS broadcaster, taking over his Dad’s role with the odd subtle rollicking to help keep the family peace. That includes the section I earlier alluded to. In a bid to avoid any spoilers, I’ll just say it involve’s Buster’s verbal response to Ben’s solo venture across the Spanish border, involving drug-induced paranoia, the running of the bull at Pamplona, the supposed heir of a tinned soup empire, and a few potentially-vicious dogs – all set to an unidenitifiable Rolling Stones soundtrack.

Our Hatch quartet can’t stay in France forever, and for part of this story don’t even want to be there – with Dinah missing Radio Four, Stephen Fry and Yorkshire Tea. But I’m not giving away too much by saying they struggle on long enough to Carry On Up The Champs-Elysees, however gruseome at times.

From sat-nav disasters to scary moments on the Rouen one-way system and driving in central Paris, from non-child-friendly D-Day documentaries in Normandy to regular battles with Gallic bureacracy, with far too many visits to chateaux and vegetable-themed museums, battles with swimming pool attendants, heavy donkeys, canoes and Alpine turbulence, religious and spiritual weirdo spotting at Lourdes and Bugarach, and smuggling pre-filled baguettes into Disneyland, it’s all there. So what’s not to like?

Road to Rouen by Ben Hatch is published by Headline, available from all good bookshops and internet outlets, and probably a few shoddy ones too.

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio | Tagged are we nearly there yet?, ben hatch, Bill Bryson, Brighton, david hatch, Dinah Hatch, France, Michael Palin, Pamplona, Paris, Road to Rouen, VW Passat | Leave a comment

Otis Redding – a personal appreciation

Posted on June 5, 2013 by writewyattuk

Stax of CDs: Part of the writewyattuk Otis Redding collection

WHEN I saw Noddy Holder recently, the former Slade frontman recalled how it was down to Little Richard that he got involved in music, something you could see in the way he always projected that mighty voice of his.

While I can’t deny Richard Penniman’s influence on so many ballsy rock’n’roll singers, it’s another native of Macon, Georgia – and another inspired by him – who did it for me, born nine years later in 1941.

There’s a thought. If Otis Redding had still been with us today, he’d only be in his early 70s. But he died aged just 26 in 1967 – when I was barely six weeks old. However, his influence lives on, and I’ve been wallowing in his wondrous back catalogue some time now.

It wasn’t until the early ’80s that I properly discovered all those classic Atlantic, Hi, Motown and Stax acts, and Northern Soul grooves. I was soon stopped in my tracks by Al Green, Aretha Franklin, Curtis Mayfield, James Brown, Sam Cooke, The Four Tops, Marvin Gaye, The Isley Brothers, The Miracles, The Supremes, The Temptations, Jr. Walker, Jackie Wilson, Stevie Wonder, and so much more.

But at the heart of that love of ’60s and early ’70s soul was always a deep R.E.S.P.E.C.T. for everything about Otis Redding. Here was the very epitome of cool, of heart and solid soulfullness, with a whole load of hope and despair incorporated within that great big voice and huge hunk of a fella.

Soul Ambassador: Otis Redding, sorely missed, 45 years after his death

BBC Four aired an hour-long tribute last weekend to Otis Redding: Soul Ambassador, alongside footage of the historic Stax/Volt European tour as it hit Oslo in 1967, and while I can’t quite fathom out why then of all times, it was a pleasant surprise – and about time.

Soul Ambassador was billed as the first-ever TV documentary about the legendary soul singer, following Otis from childhood and early marriage to his initial Memphis recordings and segregated Southern club circuit where he honed his unique act and voice.

It included previously-unseen home movies, examining how his 1967 UK & European tour changed his life and music (and that of his co-tourists). After bringing Soulsville USA over this side of the pond, he returned to conquer America, a late pull-out by headliners The Beach Boys leading to his big break with the ‘love-crowd’ at the Monterey Festival. Then came that across-the-board breakthrough with (Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay, but sadly it was to be a post-humous chart-topper.

The BBC Four tribute included not only rare performances, but also word from artists whose lives were changed by seeing him, such as Rod Stewart, Tom Jones and Bryan Ferry. Then there were intimate interviews with Otis’ wife and daughter, and original band members Booker T Jones and Steve Cropper.

Oddly enough, Cropper was on my mind anyway, my conversation with Bruce Foxton for this blog having drifted towards a guest spot on his recent Back in the Room album by the Stax, Mar-Keys and MGs guitar legend.

Cropper – who along with bassist Donald ‘Duck’ Dunn looks a lot sharper in that 1967 footage than on the set of The Blues Brothers in 1980 – was an integral part of Redding’s recording career and live shows, co-writing Mr Pitiful, Fa Fa Fa Fa Fa (Sad Song) and Dock of the Bay, as well as Knock on Wood and 634-5789 with fellow Stax star Eddie Floyd, In The Midnight Hour with Wilson Pickett, Green Onions and Soul Limbo with Booker T & the MGs, and many more hits.

Back Catalogue: Another glimpse into the writewyattuk CD archive

Like every other artist that broke through from the Deep South, there was a back story of course, one invariably including the key components we associate with those troubled times – not least prejudice and segregation. But the Stax offices in Memphis ignored that US racial divide, and Otis’ music and off-stage manner transcended all that too – arguably helping make the world a better or at least more tolerant place in the process.

When he sings Sam Cooke’s A Change is Gonna Come on breakthrough album Otis Blue – very much a tribute to his recently-struck down good friend – you truly believe it. While Martin Luther King had the wonderful rhetoric, Otis showed similar passion in his songs. But it took success on this side of the Atlantic to cross those black and white barriers and ensure mainstream success.

What I’d give to go back in time to witness Otis in March 1967 at the Finsbury Park Astoria, the Upper Cut in Forest Gate, or in Leeds and Leicester on that Stax/Volt tour, not just to see the King of Soul but also those short sets by Sam and Dave, Eddie Floyd, the Mar-Keys, Arthur Conley and Booker T & the MGs.

I can at least listen to his Live in London and Paris sets though, and the same goes for the Whisky A Go Go and Monterey shows, getting a proper sense of a performer that close friend Solomon Burke said was -like the Georgia ranch he lovingly cultivated – ‘big, sprawling and generous’.

I had an Otis Redding and Jimi Hendrix Experience at Monterey album on vinyl, and while they only got a side each, it was clearly quality over quantity. Hendrix endeared himself to me with that line admitting he’d missed out a verse on Bob Dylan’s Like A Rolling Stone, but Redding had the trump card with his own feverish approach – using the original lyrics merely as templates to do his own thing – not least on Lennon and McCartney’s Daytripper.

I loved my Otis Redding Recorded Live album (recorded at the Whisky a Go Go in 1966, but only released in 1982) even more, and for me it sits up there with three other great live albums from that era – James Brown’s Live at the Apollo (1962), Sam Cooke’s Live at Harlem Square (1963), and Georgie Fame & The Blue Flames’ Rhythm and Blues at the Flamingo (1964).

Otis’ effortless, personable banter between songs is key, and the odd bum note from the brass section somehow enhances that experience further. In days when I regularly made compilation tapes (note ‘compilation tapes’ – never the more Americanised ‘mix tapes’), there’d often be samples from that album. “We gonna eat next week!” he tells his audience. Then – taking those “Sock it to me!” and “Let your hair down!” “Get Soulful – get your shoes on off!”

At one point, Otis informs us he’s recording an album there and then, inviting his devoted audience to “Just holler loud as you wanna!” Later, he adds, “We’re gonna do a song that you’ve never heard before!” – to which, just out of earshot, someone must reply, “Says who?” and he’s reduced to giggles. At the end of another classic stomp, he adds, “See how hard we have to work to eat?” and “Sure was a groove that time!” Infectious.

His own songs and supreme choice of covers are given a whole different slant live, and this from a man who’d already re-energised tracks like old crooner Try A Little Tenderness. The fact that the sleevenotes suggested the rest of those Whisky a Go Go tapes were found by accident after a long spell in a dusty archive makes it all the more special.

Otis is on top of his game throughout, however many lyrics he remembers (something Al Green did in later times), and from his own songs to personalised takes on everything from the Beatles to the Rolling Stones, he makes the set his own.

It’s not just the records we’re left with, and I never tire of watching Otis on cult ’60s TV show Ready Steady Go! Talk about ‘in with the in-crowd’. To be there must have been something. The Animals’ Eric Burdon suggested on the BBC documentary he was a nervous wreck during the recording, having under-rehearsed Otis’ version of Sam Cooke’s Shake. But -no disrespect to Burdon – there was no way he could have competed if he’d spent weeks practising.

The big man is absolutely awesome on the I Can’t Turn You Loose /Shake finale, flanked by Burdon, Farlowe and the RSG dancers. You just get the feeling that the party wasn’t strictly over when the cameras stopped rolling. Farlowe seems to struggle to reel in his grin – knowing only too well he was in the presence of greatness. Meanwhile, a largely Mod audience really goes for it, the women never far from Otis’ side.

Away from that public life, the showman was always pleased to get home and relax at his ranch -on land once farmed by his family as slaves – and his strong Baptist background – he was the son of a minister and farmer – seemed to carry him in good stead. Most accounts suggest Otis remained humble throughout his short career, part of the appeal that saw his star rise in this country and ensured he could speak to black and white, with no side.

While America struggled with its racial divide, Otis soon broke through in the UK, with sales flowing from Otis Blue onwards. But it was an enforced break after a few more albums that led to a change in direction and more introspective later sessions. Major throat surgery stopped him singing or performing for a while and saw him re-evaluate where he was headed, with the first fruits of a new approach heard on (Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay. But fate soon intervened.

His story is told pretty comprehensively in Gerri Hirshey’s superb Nowhere To Run – The Story of Soul Music (Pan, 1984), interviews with Steve Cropper, Solomon Burke, Ben E King and James Brown – another artist with Georgian roots – filling in a few gaps.

Reading back Hirshey’s appraisal of that Stax sound and the man himself, we have Cropper talk of a ‘Below the Bible-Belt sound’, ‘righteous and nasty’, while King adds that Otis had a voice that ‘could mug you on the first note’.

It’s now 45 years since that Lake Monona air tragedy, but what a legacy Otis left us, and while we can only guess what was in the pipeline, we’ve at least got that wealth of great recordings to enjoy – not just those re-jigged covers, but so many of his own songs too. Hard to Handle, I Can’t Turn You Loose, Love Man, I’ve Been Loving You Too Long, Respect …

‘The King of ’em all (Y’all)’ packed in so much during such a short space of time – barely five years of recording. And while several others came close, Otis was always the ultimate soul performer for me.

* If you missed BBC Four’s Otis Redding: Soul Ambassador first time around, the documentary will remain on the BBC iplayer until Monday, June 10, with a link here

* Meanwhile, for the official and pretty comprehensive Otis Redding website, head here

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio, Music | Tagged BBC 4, Booker T & The MGs, Eddie Floyd, Georgia, James Brown, Jimi Hendrix, Monterey, Otis Redding, Ready Steady Go, Sam and Dave, Sam Cooke, Stax, Steve Cropper, The Beatles | 9 Comments

Back (on the phone) with Bruce Foxton – the writewyattuk interview

Posted on May 31, 2013 by writewyattuk

Before I begin, let’s go back in time. I’m not talking about the day Paul Weller and Steve Brookes first stepped on to a stage at Woking’s Working Men’s Club in November 1972, nor the May 1974 milestone (yes, 39 years ago) when Bruce Foxton left progressive garage band Rita to join Weller, Brookes and Rick Buckler’s quest.

Similarly, this is not about the mid-1975 chain of events that finally saw The Jam – without Brookes – become a trio, the April 1977 release of their first single ‘In The City’, or the band’s emotional live finale at the Brighton Centre in December 1982.

My story starts just over four years after that, when the initial Captains Log fanzine was published, with Foxton my very first ‘proper’ interviewee… albeit by post.

Touch Sensitive: The 1984 Bruce Foxton solo LP

At that point, Bruce (I’ll go for first-name terms from here – it just seems right) was reflecting on his first proper solo project, which peaked with the 1984 release of Touch Sensitive on Arista, something that by the time I caught up with him he admitted was just a little too rushed in the wake of the post-Jam success of debut solo single ‘Freak’.

It would be easy to write off Touch Sensitive here, but I was 16 when that came out and I loved it. And perhaps that nostalgia for the time ensures I still like that album all these years on.

It’s fair to say Bruce and Rick were left embittered by Paul’s decision to finish The Jam when he did, although in time perhaps it became clear that was the right thing to do – the main man going off and steering off in a totally different direction. It was hard on his fellow band members, maybe, but left a great band ‘untainted and fresh’, as this teenage fan wrote at the time.

While The Style Council made their own way, Rick formed Time UK with the Tom Robinson Band’s Danny Kustow, while Bruce saw immediate success in the summer of ’83 with ‘Freak’, but soon (as I put it in Captains Log) ‘the TOTP audience turned away’, and there was a perhaps harsh ‘lukewarm reception’ to the subsequent long player. Yet I remained a believer and told my readers (ok, that sounds grandiose, but there were quite a few!), ‘I am sure the best is yet to come’.

Early Days: The cover of the very first Captains Log magazine, including that 1986 Bruce Foxton interview

In my original interview, Bruce said of Touch Sensitive that the ‘company pushed me too hard too soon’. But he remained committed to carrying on in some form or other, his love for the music business uncowed by those recent hard knocks. He was by his own admission just at the beginning of his solo career.

Between the time of our interview and the publication of edition one of Captains Log in early ‘87, Bruce had re-joined Rick in Sharp (‘more of a banner, a studio project’ than a band, he said), and a single followed. Then came a new solo 45, and pretty soon a further live project – One Hundred Men (actually a four-piece).

While Paul continued with The Style Council and subsequently found his richest vein of form as a solo artist from 1990 onwards, Bruce joined forces with Rick to co-write The Jam – Our Story (Castle Communications, 1993), a bid to try and redress the balance of Paolo Hewitt’s official The Jam – A Beat Concerto biography (Omnibus Press, 1983).

As it turned out, Bruce replaced Ali McMordie in Stiff Little Fingers (having worked with front-man Jake Burns before) and enjoyed 15 years and recorded five albums with the Ulstermen – even managing them for a while – before Ali rejoined.

By 2001 there was a Cherry Red Records reissue of Touch Sensitive, and by 2006 Bruce was touring with The Casbah Club, where his bandmates included Big Country drummer Mark Brzezicki. The following year, Bruce joined Rick on stage with Jam tribute act The Gift, with Russell Hastings in Weller’s role and Dave Moore on keyboards. And before we knew it, he’d decided to join full time, the band re-dubbed From The Jam.

I first caught From The Jam at the end of 2007 at Preston’s 53 Degrees, and was suitably impressed. It wasn’t just a case of pure nostalgia – although there was plenty of that – and shaking the dust off a few storming songs. Russ (Hastings) looked and played the part to perfection, and this was so much more than just a karaoke version of the Woking trio they emulated. Furthermore, I was lucky enough to get to talk to Bruce and Rick backstage after that gig.

From The Jam remained a live force, with a string of successful worldwide shows up to 2008, and the first signs that an album of new material might follow. But things soon changed, a time of personal lows for Bruce becoming public with the passing of his wife Pat after her fight against breast cancer.

I guess that out of every low comes a positive, and in a year when Paul Weller’s dad John – The Jam’s high-profile manager – also died, it at least brought those two old mates together again, brief encounters elsewhere leading to Bruce guesting on Paul’s Wake Up the Nation album, and even performing live with his illustrious cohort.

Perhaps partly due to that rekindled friendship between Bruce and Paul, but maybe also because Rick was – when I last spoke to him – a little tired of the whole touring aspect, then came the news that Rick had quit From The Jam.

Foxy Return: Bruce Foxton’s Back in the Room – something of a triumph

That said, Bruce’s rekindled friendship with Paul proved nothing less than a positive force, and by the end of 2012 we had Back in the Room, Bruce’s first (kind of) solo album in 28 years, recorded at Paul’s Black Barn Studios in Ripley, Surrey – less than five miles from The Jam’s old Sheerwater roots.

And it was a winning return as far as this scribe in concerned, with Bruce – primarily aided by Russ (Hastings) and also Mark (Brzezicki) – producing with Paul’s chief engineer Charles Rees a superb collection of Foxton-Hastings songs, and to a fair weight of critical acclaim.

That about brings us up to date, although I’ve slotted my writewyattuk review of Back in the Room on the end of this late May 2013 interview with Bruce. And – 26 years after that first interview with me – this time it’s not been done by post, but via phone between Bruce’s home near Farnham, Surrey, and my sister’s in nearby Guildford. So here goes:

I take it I’m catching you between rehearsals for the next string of From The Jam gigs?

“Not really. We’ve been on the road since January, so we’re on top of it all at the moment. Our agent, Peter Barton (of Rock Artist Management) provides work all year round save for holidays, so it’s pretty much full on. At the moment we have about three weeks off, but come June we’re back on the road and remain so pretty much until Christmas and beyond, which is great. I need to work, I want to work, and I love playing those fantastic Jam songs. Most importantly, there’s still a huge demand for people wanting to hear them. As long as that’s the case and as long as I can do it, so it will be.

I get the impression you wouldn’t have taken the bait if this was just some kind of karaoke Jam tribute act. You didn’t get into it all lightly, did you?

Drum Major: Rick Buckler, with whom writewyattuk caught up with backstage at a From The Jam show in Preston in late 2007

Back in 2006 I did a couple of shows with Rick (Buckler), and from 2007 it’s been under the From The Jam name. I went into those rehearsals and found it was great playing with Rick again after all those years. Russell (Hastings) was part of The Gift, a tribute band with Rick and Dave Moore, I did a couple of guest shows with them in 2006 and by the following year we just said come on, let’s go out there. And I only did that because I felt we were doing those songs justice. If it sounded cabaret or like cruise ship stuff, I’d have said no, it’s not for me. Russ does a great job as front man. He’s a good singer and songwriter and guitarist, and I though he was just perfect for the job.

I have to say I was mightily impressed with the album. I only have one criticism, and that’s only that I felt Russ deserves his name on the front cover too.

It was very much a joint effort between Russ and myself, and obviously we spoke about that issue. But he was cool with it going out just under my name. It sounds conceited, but at the moment my name is more recognisable than Russell Hastings’, but slowly the balance is being adjusted. He’s always treated his position with … well, he’d say it was an honour, and he’s endeared himself to the fans. He’s really been accepted by everyone now. There might be the odd person that thinks it ain’t the same. Of course it isn’t, that’s why we called it From The Jam. We’re not trying to pull wool over anyone’s eyes. But who knows on the next album we’re half-way through getting ideas for. I might bear it in mind, put it in brackets … small or something (laughs). In terms of writing and royalties they’re 50/50 though – there’s no problem with that!

So, after a few months to reflect, what are your thoughts on Back in the Room? Were you happy with the finished product?

We are so pleased with the album, and that’s one I’ll be proud of ‘til I pop me clogs! It did well for us in terms of press and raised awareness that I was still out there doing it and writing new material. That’s what we hoped to achieve, not just to play all those Jam classics, but as we progress through the year we’ll be slotting in a few more tunes from the album.

Sometimes it is difficult to do that when you have a band with such a formidable back catalogue, and your audience might be more reticent to hear new songs.

Similar Vibe: Bruce says his latest album had a comparative feel in the studio to that The Jam had on All Mod Cons

We joke about it, but the new stuff does blend in. Even in The Jam days, say when we’d toured The Modern World then we came up with All Mod Cons and were wondered just how are they going to like these songs. There’s always that trepidation, wondering how songs are going to be received. But tracks we’ve already slotted in like Find My Way Home, Window Shopping and Number Six go down great live and don’t stand out like sore thumbs.

There’s a really good feel to the album, and I was so pleased that was the case. It’s somewhere along the lines of All Mod Cons or Sound Affects in parts – my favourite Jam albums.

In terms of the vibe I described recording the album as very much like when we recorded All Mod Cons with Mickie Most in St John’s Wood. He was a top producer in the ‘70s, with a huge catalogue of hits, very successful. His studio had a very good feeling. The control room had daylight, you could see into the streets. It wasn’t like you were shut away in a box room. I got the same feeling with Back in the Room at Paul Weller’s studio (Black Barn Studios). It was the same vibe as we got all those years ago. It just felt really good. It was a very relaxed atmosphere, and I think the proof is in the pudding. I just love all 12 tracks. I don’t play it every day, but it’s in my car and when I do stick it on … well, we did a great job, basically!

Looking back at that first interview I did with you back in 1987, not long after Touch Sensitive, there’s a rather prophetic sign-off to say ‘for those who have enjoyed my music so far, thanks, hang on in there, there’s better to come’. Well, you’ve finally proved that right, Bruce – it’s just that maybe I hadn’t expected to wait 26 years for the next solo album!

Fanzine Days: Part of the Bruce Foxton interview for Captains Log

Well, better late than never, eh! What can I say? The best is yet to come! I’m permanently optimistic with what I’m doing. I think that’s what keeps you going. If I wasn’t I’d just think what’s the point. Some of the new ideas we’ve got kicking around I’m very up on, but as we touched on before, with the band being so busy with live shows it’s just getting time to fit in a bit of recording. Hopefully in June and July we’re have a bit of time and we’ll get in the studio as soon as we can and hopefully get another album out next March or April. You always tend to get excited about the latest thing you’ve got going and for obvious reasons it’s fresh I suppose.

Are you and Russ a pen and notepad kind of songwriting partnership? How does it work between you?

Mainly, the lyrics I leave to Russ and with technology as it is you don’t really need a notebook now – just speak it into your phone or whatever. Russ lives in Bognor so a lot of Back in the Room’s original ideas involved a riff or something we’d recorded on a phone and sent to each other. I’ve got a really basic little recording studio – well, that’s a bit of an over-statement! – but it works and I put Russ’s riff down, add to it, put some basslines out, and you don’t even need to get together initially. If we have something we think ok, we can build on that. We’ve got a lot of half-baked ideas at the moment, all on our phones and my PC, then we get together and think we can shake this into something now.

Back in 1987 you told me you had plans to produce your own material one day and get your ‘feet back under the table’. That’s happened here, the album’s production credits going to you, Russ and Charles Rees. How did you get to work with Charles?

Turning Point: Bruce first worked with Charles Rees on Paul Weller’s 2010 LP Wake up the Nation

Charles works at Paul’s studios, where he’s the house engineer – and I don’t mean to do him an injustice by saying that. I recorded bass lines for Paul’s Wake up the Nation album, so got to know all the guys that worked with Paul during those sessions. Charles was knocking about then, we got on great, and he’s got some great ideas. He proved invaluable and he’s so diligent – he works his arse off at the studio, and this album wouldn’t have been possible without him. It was a great little unit – Russ, myself, Mark (Brzezicki) on drums and Charles, and anyone else that stumbled into the studio that could play, we said ‘do you want to have a go at this track?’ Tom (Van Heel), who’s playing drums with us as Mark’s away with Big Country, is also a multi-instrumentalist. He’s not a jack of all trades – he is very good, great on drums and plays other stuff too. When we do acoustic shows when we don’t have a drum kit, he switches to keys. That’s what I meant about a relaxed atmosphere. You accidentally bump into someone, have a chat and a cup of tea, and when it comes up that they play piano or something, we say ‘would you mind having a go on that?’

There are some impressive guest roles too – not least Stax guitar legend Steve Cropper. How did that come about?

A couple of years ago, Pete, our agent, was fronting The Animals in a project where Steve was involved. He got up and played with them on stage, doing some Animals tunes then some of his own greatest hits, Blues Brothers stuff, and so on. Pete said he’d get him to play on my album. I said great, but hearing and seeing is believing. Time ran out and he was back off to the States, so we thought we missed our chance. But Peter’s like a dog with a bone and said he was going to get in touch. He did and said Steve was up for it – just send him the files over. There’s that new technology again! We sent him Don’t Waste My Time, he put his guitar on, and it was fucking great! It fitted so well. But I wanted to meet the guy, and it was only this January when he was over again that we managed that at Paul’s studio in Cranleigh. We were doing a video for that track, so got him in that. He had time for everyone – not just me and Russ, but all the guys in the studio. A lot of people are big fans. He’s a legend. When people call me a legend, I don’t really agree. But Steve Cropper’s a real legend. And he was a lovely guy.

Then of course there was Spandau Ballet saxophonist Steve Norman. How long have you known Steve?

Last year I was involved with a company called Super Channel that does corporate shows, for bands playing at racecourse meetings and so on, and Morrison’s food chain were going to do a festival – their first venture into music – at Harewood House, near Leeds. It was going to be a big event, and the director in charge got in touch and asked if I’d be interested in being a spokesperson, saying Steve Norman was already up for it. So we fronted that campaign, and it was all going well until the weather intervened. It decided to piss it down and the venue was waterlogged, and sadly went down the tube, despite all the acts being booked. But Steve and I became really good friends from that. So when we were doing Don’t Waste My Time and The Wide Open Road instrumental I said do you fancy coming along and having a blow. It was great. It was all so casual, really relaxed. He came down, having worked out some parts, and we put him in the studio with his sax.

There are a lot more contributions on there, some of which you can’t obviously tell who’s played them. Were others involved?

First Fruits: Paul, Bruce and Rick’s first album, In The City, from 1977

Paul (Weller) played glockenspiel, guitars, keys, Hammond organ, piano and probably any other instrument where you can’t fathom out who’s playing, it’s down to Paul basically, because he’s well … he’s proven himself. His track record speaks for itself. He’s a really talented guy and he gave it his all. He didn’t just pop in and say ‘I can only spend an hour on it, Bruce, that’ll have to do’. He stayed there experimenting and trying things out, treating it with as much pride as he does his own stuff. And that’s fantastic.

It’s good to see the two of you back together, after all those years.

It is. We’re just good mates really. I haven’t seen him for a while, but our paths cross now and again, and when we get round to going back into Paul’s studio he invariably pops down at some point to do some personal business. Again it’s just a very laid back situation. Maybe he’ll ask me to play on something of his in the near future – nothing is planned or set in stone. If it happens, it happens.

I guess you’ve learned over the years not to wait for Paul to ring you?

He knows where I am, and vice versa. We get on great, and there’s not a problem. We’re mates, and we’ll meet again. We’ll probably do something again at some point, but I’ve no idea when.

That leads me neatly on to the Rick Buckler situation. I spoke to both of you at Preston’s 53 Degrees the last time you played there in late 2007, and had a great chinwag. But within a year and a bit he’d moved on. What’s the score there now?

Well, in 2009 he threw in the towel, in fact he just sent us an email, and didn’t even call me or Russ about it. He just said with some regret I’m leaving the band, and that was it. It’s a real shame. But what can I say? That’s Rick’s decision. As we touched upon, I always wanted to carry on playing those Jam songs and continue, so we just thought we’d do that. I don’t know what he’s up to now, although I know he’s been playing with some members of Sham 69, although I don’t think that’s come to much. I did hear he was managing a folk artist, but it’s really vague – maybe he’s just helping someone out. It is a shame. We mended bridges between Paul and myself and now there’s another one that’s fallen by the wayside – with Rick and myself. I don’t know, but I don’t bear any grudge or have any bad feeling with Rick. It’s just that he pulled the plug on us.

There do seem to have been a few problems between Paul and Rick, judging by some of the comments Paul made in the press about him in recent years.

Yes. Perhaps they caught Paul on a bad day. Some of that was very venomous, and I don’t really know why that is, and why there is so much animosity between them. But there you go.

On the other hand, I guess it was that energy that helped ignite that creative spark in the first place with The Jam?

Yes. Exactly.

Studio Trio: Mark Brzezicki, Bruce Foxton and Russ Hastings during the recording of Back in the Room

And now you’re missing another drummer, with Mark (Brzezicki) not with the band at present?

Mark’s off with Big Country for the time being, and I think they’re in Europe at the moment, with Mike Peters from The Alarm fronting the band. Mark’s always considered Big Country as his main act, and when he comes back if he’s interested in doing some drumming for us at some point, maybe. But we’ve got this young guy – Tom (Van Heel) – who’s stepped in, and is doing a great job. As far as we’re concerned he’s our drummer. Yet I think he’s 23 and he’s got his own band and is recording at the moment, so I’m sure there’ll come a time when he wants to go off and do that. I’ve just got to be a bit flexible and play it by ear. But for now the line-up is Russ, myself and Tom, but that might change later in the year depending on people’s commitments and other projects.

The last track on the album is a little Big Country-esque, I felt.

That’s just Mark’s style of drumming. There’s Jam-esque basslines too, but it’s not intentional to write in that style. That’s just me, and the same goes for Mark really –that’s just his style.

Our Story: The Bruce and Rick co-penned Jam memoirs from 1993

It’s now 20 years since you published The Jam – Our Story with Rick (Buckler), which in itself was 10 years after the band split. I know in some respects that was a late response to Paolo Hewitt’s The Jam – A Beat Concerto, which appeared not long after the split. Any regrets about Our Story now?

No regrets really, although I suppose you could sit on the loo and read it! Since then I’ve learned that the real Jam fans had realised it was very much a three-way thing, and without Rick and myself it wouldn’t have been the same. I think at the time we wanted to justify our positions in the band, but on reflection I don’t think that was necessary.

Now it’s 30 years since Paul finished the band to start The Style Council, is it time for another book – charting your life in music? A lot’s happened since.

I doubt it … maybe at a later date.

Of course, an integral part of The Jam was Paul’s dad, John Weller. And I think it was partly his passing that led to your reconciliation with Paul. Is that right?

It was unique to have Paul’s dad manage us, and John was a nice guy, and looking back he gave up a lot of his time to try and turn our career, from getting us gigs in working men’s clubs onwards, to beg, borrow or steal equipment, and everything. We really couldn’t have done it without him, and for me the year he died – 2009 – was a horrendous year. I also lost my wife Pat, and then we lost John.

Forging Ahead: Russ Hastings and Bruce Foxton in live action

At that point, my tape ran out (none of that new-fangled technology for me!), and it was time for Bruce to fit in another interview. But he did briefly mention how he’d got involved with the Rainbow Trust charity through his wife’s influence, helping out terminally-ill kids, and spoke briefly about the ‘terrible disease’ that took his beloved wife, something that in turn led to a charity gig at the Red House pub in Woking and other charity shows with hospice in 2010, Wake up Woking.

And with that we wrapped things up, Bruce telling me as we said our goodbyes that we shouldn’t wait another 25 years until our next interview together!

* For further details of From The Jam gigs and all the latest news (including Russell’s own pages) head to http://www.fromthejam.co.uk/

* You can also check out Bruce’s website via http://brucefoxton.com/

* For more details of From The Jam’s Preston 53 Degrees show on June 21st, supported by Deadwood Dog, head to http://www.53degrees.net/listings/fromthejam2012.php

* Interview arranged with thanks to Mark Charlesworth at 53 Degrees, Preston, and Dave Hill at Tenacity Music PR (http://www.tenacitymusicpr.co.uk/)

* Meanwhile, the writewyattuk review of Bruce’s Back in the Room album is here

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio | Tagged Back In The Room, Big Country, Bruce Foxton, Charles Rees, From The Jam, Mark Brzezicki, paul weller, Rick Buckler, Russell Hastings, Steve Cropper, Steve Norman, Stiff Little Fingers, The Jam | 6 Comments

Bruce Foxton – Back in the Room (Absolute/Basstone, 2012) – a writewyattuk review

Posted on May 31, 2013 by writewyattuk

Band Feel: Mark Brzezicki, Bruce Foxton and Russ Hastings

I really didn’t know what to expect with Bruce’s first solo album in more than a quarter of a century, but I’m pleased to say my critical sense was uncompromised by the end result – 12 strong songs ensuring a proud return for the former Jam bassist in the company of co-writer and From The Jam front-man Russell Hastings plus bandmate Mark Brzezicki.

What’s more, this Foxton and Hastings’ driven project proved perfectly co-ordinated by Paul Weller collaborator Charles Rees, with the influence of the former Jam front-man never far away either, the recording further complemented by telling contributions from guest personnel.

From semi-instrumental intro Ride onwards, Back in the Room is a joy to behold and covers classic Foxton territory in certain respects – that unmistakeably-bass sound and trademark backing vocals suggesting in places an outtake of seminal 1980 long player Sound Affects, coupled with the earlier passion and inventiveness of All Mod Cons.

Either way, you get the feeling this is Bruce and co saying ‘here we are, we’re back – where have you been?’ And from the moment that throbbing bass comes through on the wondrous Number Six and Russell’s vocals first come to the fore, it’s clear we really have something here.

While Bruce’s characteristic vocal takes us back and brings a lump to this old cynic’s throat, there’s so much more on show in what is quite simply emotionally-charged, classic three-minute pop. It’s also got – like a few tracks here – Paul Weller all over it in certain respects, in what should have been the key to a huge hit.

There’s a more laid-back, soulful approach at play on Don’t Waste My Time, the influence of Stax guitar legend Steve Cropper there for all to hear and leaving an indelible impression on the proceedings, tucked in behind Russell’s lead vocal and those ever-fitting Bruce harmonies.

Happy Return: Bruce Foxton’s Back in the Room proves something of a triumph

Window Shopping is more familiar Jam and Weller territory, and superb for it – from the Wasteland-style recorder to Revolver-era Beatles backward-guitar touches, a sublime to slip easily into the From The Jam repertoire.

We change gears again to great effect on Glad I Found My Tears, a trippy ’60s feel to the fore as Bruce takes lead vocals, while Russ – like Paul all those years before – comes in at opportune moments to back that to perfection. I hate to keep making those comparisons with a certain Woking three-piece, but think Liza Radley or That’s Entertainment and you’re almost there – heading through the long grass to a perfect soundtrack for those long hot, lazy summer days.

An instrumental interlude – again typical Foxton/Weller – takes us to The Wide Open Road, elements of Paul’s own 22 Dreams project supplemented by Bruce’s chunky bass and an unexpected but similarly effective meandering helped on its way by Spandau Ballet’s Steve Norman – as is the case on Don’t Waste My Time.

We have some good, honest Dr Feelgood-like r’n’b to follow on Find My Way Home, Russell’s backing vocals and that glorious George Harrison style backwards guitar again perfectly complementing Bruce’s lead.

The Gaffa keeps that vibe coming, the pub-style piano backing perfectly placed on this stormer, this time bringing to mind Set The House Ablaze with Lady Madonna brass all over it – again with thanks to the blowing Mr Norman.

Drifting Dreams is more wistful, and we’re back in more ballad-driven territory again, Russell’s sweet vocal and phraseology making it difficult to see where Paul ends and he begins at times. There’s also an Ocean Colour Scene feel there, an almost- melancholic Russ reflecting on ‘long summer nights just drifting through my mind’.

Studio Return: Bruce Foxton back in the recording studio

Strong as Russell’s voice is, it sounds all the better backed by Bruce’s, their harmonies so good on Coming On Strong, that understanding of subtle chord changes and effortless gear shifts bringing the emotions back to the fore again, while the underlying guitar suggests all the power of a Ronnie Lane classic.

The pace steps up again as we edge towards the finish line, Bruce leading the band – and it is a band, despite just Bruce having his name on the front – to perfection on Reflection as we build towards that climax, the Hammond organ always just below the surface, the middle eight suggesting a few tips picked up in expert company over the years, and those anthemic ‘sha-la-la’s fitting the bill perfectly.

Then we’re away, Mark Brzezicki’s percussion, the poignant recorder and guitar bringing a little Big Country into the frame on Senses of Summer, with perhaps a little of that old Sound Affects era Jam there too, the anthemic approach again a factor as Bruce and co sign off in style … until next time.

* For the May 2013 writewyattuk interview with Bruce Foxton, head here

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio | Tagged Back In The Room, Big Country, Bruce Foxton, Charles Rees, From The Jam, Mark Brzezicki, paul weller, Russell Hastings, Steve Cropper, Steve Norman, The Jam | 6 Comments

Out on the town with Noddy and Mark

Posted on May 20, 2013 by writewyattuk

Come Dancing: Noddy Holder and Mark Radcliffe contemplate getting to grips with sequins for the next series of Strictly Come Dancing

I’M proud to say I was in the company of glam rock royalty at the weekend, 50 years after Noddy Holder’s introduction to that business called show.

And judging by his musical contributions to a night of good, honest chat with his (not quite so) old mate Mark Radcliffe on Saturday, May 18 – in front of an appreciative audience at Preston’s Charter Theatre – Neville John Holder certainly still has a voice to be proud of.

The much-loved singer, actor and entertainer took us over a two-hour two-act Look Wot You Dun show from his formative days in working-class Walsall to world superstardom and beyond, in what entailed a heady mix of nostalgia, poignancy and lots of laughs, neatly choreographed by his side-kick, the esteemed broadcaster, author and occasional rock star.

It was that dynamic that worked so well, His Royal Nodness happily reminiscing while his Old Boltonian chum chivvied him in the right direction.

It was a simple enough set-up, Radcliffe remotely operating a drop down screen from an old wooden kitchen chair, while Holder – resplendent in dandy-escue clothing awarding him the sobriquet ‘Mr Wonka’ from his accomplice – sat upon a garish gold-sprayed ‘throne’ and delighted his subjects with a wealth of stories roughly related to the on-screen images.

It wasn’t all just chat either, I for one in awe when the man himself picked up his semi-acoustic electric and thrilled us all with a few snippets and variations of some of his better known musical gems.

If I was to have one complaint, it would be that he didn’t pick that guitar up quite as much as he could have. But when he did we were left in no doubt that there’s still some mighty tonsil power there, despite the passing years.

While a fair few of us knew a lot of the stories – and let’s face it, this 45-year-old reviewer was one of the younger audience members on the night – you couldn’t help but lap up the re-telling – as indeed seemed to be the case with Radcliffe, although he’d clearly heard them many times before.

It was a strange set-up, the idea of Sir Nodward holding court with his long-time pal perhaps just a little too odd to work. But it did work, offering a truly intimate insight into Nod’s inspiration, craft and amazing back-story.

From those formative years onwards, Noddy – just shy of his 67th birthday, yet still with a winningly boyish-rogue charm – delighted with his repartee, starting out with a few words about his first band the Memphis Cutouts and his Steve Brett & The Mavericks era before his 1966 switch to join Wolverhampton trio Dave Hill, Don Powell and Jim Lea – then a schoolboy – in the ‘NBetweens, in turn giving rise to the band’s re-brand as Ambrose Slade.

That included anecdotes from the band’s hippy and breakthrough skinhead eras, while their Hamburg days made for quite a bit of dialogue, the off-stage antics during that musical apprenticeship seemingly as impressive as The Beatles’ German coming of age. And from that mirrored top hat to his handyman penchant for mending things in hotel rooms, there was plenty to talk about.

Now and again, Holder was liable to tell us just a little too much, but Radcliffe was there to interject and put him back on track, proving something of a skilled interviewer as well as a sharp wit – despite his much-loved outer John Peel-esque dithering.

Dynamic Duo: Noddy and his assistant Mark at their recent audition for Dr Who

Radcliffe also clearly knows his subject well enough to gently take the mickey hucknall too, not least when he picked up – several times – on Nod’s inept Black Country-infused impressions of various key-players – from his German promoter through to Slade and Jimi Hendrix boss and ex-Animals bassist Chas Chandler to Bryan Ferry and Freddie Mercury (later named as one of Mr H’s three dream dinner guests). As he remarked on the night after one such impression, “John Culshaw must be shitting himself!”

The first stop for a song was a golden moment, Holder reaching for his six-string and effortlessly treating us to a couple of verses of what he suggested was the first Slade song he properly wrote, his acoustic rendition of Coz I Luv You bringing a tear to the eye for this emotional reviewer. And in its stripped-down form you could clearly see the influence of Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli on Holder and classically-trained violinist Lea.

It was the first time I’d seen Holder perform live in person since a memorable night as a teenager 30 years before at Hammersmith Odeon, and he certainly didn’t disappoint, that big voice of his showing no obvious sign of fatigue.

The big time soon followed of course, with Holder still seemingly amazed at just how big Slade got. But I think we all knew what was coming next, the section about the car crash which killed Powell’s girlfriend and came close to finishing off the band’s gum-chewing drummer – at the height of their pop star powers – such a sad chapter in this great rock’n’roll story.

On a lighter note, we were treated to the earlier, more hippy version of Merry Xmas Everybody, with its Won’t You Buy Me A Rocking Chair chorus line, leading to Radcliffe enthusing about his hero’s rightful place in our national festive identity.

After the break, the duo were back, initially wearing face masks of each other, the camaraderie continuing as Noddy answered questions from the audience – some submitted before curtain up via written notes, others shouted from the stalls.

Some you could guess, like whether Nod would be making any celeb TV appearances soon (with Strictly Come Dancing for one not ruled out, trivia fans), and whether our own favourite Time Lord might become the next Dr Who (complete with talk of the public mistaking him for not only Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker and Colin Baker , but also – bizarrely – Peter Davison!).

The best question for me was the succinct written enquiry that simply asked “Suzi Quatro – did you?” (his swift answer an emphatic ‘no’ regarding his good friend and former tour-mate, I might add), before the pair sat down again to show a clip from the band’s film Flame, discussing that film and the band’s and public’s initial reaction, and how it was slowly recognised as something of a cinematic masterpiece.

There followed an early version of Far, Far Away from Holder, complete with an original chorus line with a passing resemblance to Status Quo’s Rockin’ All Over The World, one Lea thankfully replaced with his contribution to a true classic.

The banter continued, Radcliffe revealing how Mr H had ensured his co-act went to the toilet before he returned to the stage, complementing the image of these two troubadours as father and son in certain respects.

That whole ‘rock stars as big kids’ element was further magnified by an anecdote about Holder being told by Chandler back in ’74 to ‘go to your room’ and finish Far, Far Away, after he flippantly came up with its memorable opening line while relaxing on the banks of the Mississippi during a US tour. And there were similar nuggets and gems throughout.

Eventually, we got to the band’s nadir and following re-birth after an appearance at the Reading Festival in Ozzy Osborne’s absence in 1980, those heavy and almost soft rock latter days followed by the split and – on this occasion – inevitable questions about Holder’s part in breaking up the band, something he couldn’t really deny – having grown uneasy with that rock’n’roll lifestyle as the years advanced, not least on the back of various offers to do other projects outside Slade.

Meanwhile, our Neville batted off the reformation questions, although you got the feeling he wouldn’t be averse to at least releasing a few acoustic recordings – from those wondrous TV appearances on The Grimleys – although he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of the public appearances that would surely follow.

There were even a few laughs about how Nod considered applying for the recent vacancy as lead singer with Don and Dave’s latest Slade incarnation, although he did point out that he couldn’t really pass for the ‘age 30’ limit his old band-mates suggested in their ad.

There was a further poignant moment as this son of a window-cleaner acknowledged the debt he owed his parents for backing his bid to become a professional musician 50 years before, at a time when that really couldn’t have seemed a great career option.

And while it was great to see a clip of Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer’s vision of Slade in Residence and Banger’s appearance in Bob the Builder again, I’ll gloss over the less-romantic image that followed as we were subjected to Noddy’s infamous glass table anecdote (if you dont know it, just be thankful).

On that bum note, pretty soon the dynamic duo were away. But not before leaving us on a high with a duet on Chuck Berry’s Johnny B. Goode, Radcliffe quick to ensure his guitar-buddy got the mightier applause before a typically-friendly Holder-esque grin and fond farewell.

* With special thanks to Nigel McIntyre

* For writewyattuk’s December 2012 appreciation of all things Slade, head here

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio, Comedy & Theatre, Music | Tagged Chas Chandler, Dave Hill, Don Powell, Dr Who, Freddie Mercury, Jim lea, Mark Radcliffe, Noddy Holder, Preston Charter Theatre, Slade, Strictly Come Dancing, Suzi Quatro, Vic, walsall, wolverhampton | 6 Comments

Mission accomplished … but the public service beat goes on

Posted on May 9, 2013 by writewyattuk

In which writewyattuk runs the rule over the eagerly-awaited debut LP from Public Service Broadcasting – Inform, Educate, Entertain … and discovers a ready-made classic.

It’s always a nervous experience when a band you’ve learned to love during the incubation stages brings out its first album.

Sometimes it might fall short of the mark, not quite living up to the live promise, while other times the production isn’t quite what you’d expected.

Thankfully, Inform, Educate, Entertain hits all the right notes though, and we have all we could have hoped for from Public Service Broadcasting’s debut long player.

What’s more, for those of us who’ve been watching their progress via the live circuit, copious radio airplay and a succession of wonderfully-spliced archive public information films, there’s a few new songs to savour here too.

So while this is almost an instant greatest hits collection – even kicking off with its own ‘PSB on 45’ style mega-mix for the title track – it’s much more than that.

And while time constraints might rule out the inclusion of songs from the band’s War Room EP and a few other PSB live classics, that really isn’t a problem.

The introductions behind us, we dive head-first into the wondrous Spitfire, my favourite single of 2013, and just as evocative without its exquisite promo with snatches of The First of The Few, a Rolls-Royce Merlin engine–powered classic if ever there was one.

Corduroy-clad inspiration J Willgoose then effortlessly turns to banjo-driven live favourite Theme From PSB before another column gear shift for high-octane single Signal 30, and suddenly it’s as if the Wedding Present are with us in the car on this bare-knuckle ride.

Where to go from there? It couldn’t have been easy, but the mood changes again as Willgoose and Wrigglesworth take the Night Mail, a brave move when faced with all of us for whom the original 1936 GPO Film Unit information film holds such gravitas.

Yet they somehow get away with it, the sampled snippets of WH Auden’s iconic poem given added resonance here if that was possible. You shouldn’t be able to get away with painting something new on to such an accomplished soundscape, but it works.

Dynamic Duo: Public Service Broadcasting’s Wriggleworth, left, and Willgoose, on stage at Preston’s 53 Degrees in March (Photo: writewyattuk)

We need a little time for reflection from there, and Qomolangma gives a Holst-esque new dawn feel to the proceedings before we wave on the band’s first single, the dance-hypnotic, truly colourful ROYGBIV.

This time, Willgooses’s plucking and Wrigglesworth’ trip-beat combine to great effect on a slow-building gem, and in the right context surely we have the sound of summer.

The Now Generation takes that premise further, bringing to mind that better-known cone-headed PSB duo, but perhaps swapping Tennant and Lowe’s ’80s opportunities for ’50s fashion tips.

There’s a major sea change from there to provide the oceanic backdrop of Lit Up, but again it works superbly, a fantastic example of pictures painted by sound, and that’s both the original audio commentary and all the two Ws have sonically built around that.

That invention is taken to a new height on the supreme Everest, the release of this sublime album perfectly timed to mark the 60^th anniversary of the historic Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay-led expo to the top of the world.

Having scaled the ultimate peak, Late Night Final has to be a measured withdrawal, and there’s a sense we’re making our way slowly home after all that’s gone before here, a fitting conclusion to a 43-minute epic project, and one suggesting there’s far more to come from this highly-inventive London duo.

If Public Service Broadcasting did indeed set out to ‘teach the lessons of the past through the music of the future’, their debut long player has achieved just that, and in style.

For more about Public Service Broadcasting, their upcoming gigs and how to order Inform, Educate, Entertain, head here

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio, Music | Tagged Everest, Inform Educate Entertain, Night Mail, Public Service Broadcasting, ROYGBIV, Signal 30, Spitfire, Willgoose, Wrigglesworth | 3 Comments

Wilko Johnson – we salute you

Posted on April 27, 2013 by writewyattuk

Beeb Farewell: Wilko Johnson during his guest slot with Madness at Broadcasting House last month (Photo: BBC)

WAS it really a month ago Madness were fighting off the bitter winter elements outside Broadcasting House, with their special guests including a certain guitar legend?

You had to fear for Wilko Johnson on such a freezing cold night with very little Spring about it, his hectic schedule interrupted by this milestone live BBC TV appearance.

It was all part of the 65-year-old’s on-going campaign to stick two fingers up to the monster that is cancer – pancreatic in his case, and terminal – as the Nutty Boys invited the ailing 65-year-old to join them on their eponymous cover of Prince Buster classic Madness.

As the snowflakes fell around them, Suggs announced over Woody’s drum beat to a truly-chilled (to the bone) crowd the imminent arrival of the ‘greatest British r’n’b guitarist of all time – bar none’, and on he ambled in dark suit, dark shirt, his trademark black Fender Telecaster with red pickguard around his neck. A sight to warm the cockles for sure.

Needless to say, Wilko played a blinder too, chopping out the ska beat on his customised six-string, the red flex stretching as he hithered and thithered around the stage, before lining up alongside Bedders and Chrissy Boy, that amiable grin never far from his lips.

Unfortunately, that might have been his final public appearance – although I’d love to be proved wrong on that score – with the two Canvey Island homecoming gigs set to follow called off late doors due to an almost-inevitable slide in his health.

His management reported a couple of days later that Johnson had cancelled for health reasons, and won’t return to the stage.

Facing Facts: Wilko Johnson (Photo borrowed from his official Facebook page)

Facing Facts: Wilko Johnson (Photo borrowed along with the logo at the end of this article from his official Facebook page)

Wilko told Essex-based Echo News: “I only performed one song, but it was freezing. The wind was blowing up an absolute gale. It was whipping into my face – how Madness performed for an hour I have no idea. It was very very, very cold; and I think this is why I feel down.”

It was only back in December that Wilko discovered his cancer was terminal, deciding against a painful programme of treatment for what he felt might just secure another few months of poor health. Instead, he announced a farewell UK tour the following month, with plans for one more album and a live DVD too.

He was all set to take the stage at the sold-out Oysterfleet Hotel after the Madness gig for two nights, joined by Alison Moyet. But it was not to be, and Wilko added: “It is really upsetting not to perform for the people of Canvey at the end. I really wish I could have done it. If one little bit of me thought it was possible I would have done it.”

But if that Beeb bye-bye was the last live show for Wilko, so be it. There was certainly a tear in my eye, and thanks to his Camden Town comrades for inviting him on.

However he sees his days out from here – and I can only wish Wilko the least possible pain in the coming months – he’s already done enough to secure his place in the great musical hall of fame, and I’m just so glad I got to see him live a few years before.

Quite a few years before as it happened. I’m not quite old enough to have been rubbing shoulders with The Clash, Sex Pistols and The Stranglers at those seminal Dr Feelgood performances in the burgeoning village of London.

I also missed out on his most recent three-piece band’s tour, alongside Blockheads legendary bass player Norman Watt-Roy and drummer Dylan Howe. But I at least saw the Wilko Johnson Band a couple of times in the mid-’80s.

At that point he was touting 1985 mini-LP Watch Out! and, later, 1987’s Call It What You Want, in tandem (or trandem perhaps?) with Watt-Roy and drummer Salvatore Ramundo. And that first time I clapped eyes on him at Kennington Cricketers will always remain with me.

I loved that SE11 venue, situated alongside the Oval Cricket Ground, seeing so many great gigs there back in the day, not least a storming That Petrol Emotion show and rousing appearance by soul legend Geno Washington and The Ram-Jam Band.

At the latter, I recall one-time Dexy’s Midnight Runners inspiration Geno hollering at one point how he was going to do ‘this next song sideways’. It made little sense, but on the other hand somehow did, and if there was anyone else qualified to perform songs sideways, I guess it would be Wilko.

Long Gone: The Cricketers, Kennington, unfortunately no longer with us (Photo: Stephen Harris/http://www.closedpubs.co.uk/)

He proved that when I caught him at Kennington, and while I knew a bit about the Feelgoods at that point, starting with their post-Wilko era and working backwards to the sublime She Does It Right and so much more, I’d never seen them live.

I also knew Wilko – real name John Peter Wilkinson – from his spoken intro on Ian Dury & The Blockheads’ I Wanna Be Straight (brief and to the point, you could say), but certainly hadn’t seen him perform. And boy, could he perform.

First I knew of it was the expectant voices around me, saying, ‘Here he goes. Watch him!’ And then he was away, the first extended guitar riff marking his impressive sideways ‘skitter’, as if sweeping up the stage (which in a sense he was), made all the more spectacular by the fact that I couldn’t see his feet so he appeared to be floating across the stage.

That adds credence to the description of him and Feelgood frontman Lee Brilleaux as ‘two planets which would occasionally collide’. It was like watching some sinister character from an American b-movie getting around via hover-board. Maybe.

What’s more, that staccato sound he conjured up with his bare, bloodied fingers – no plectrums for our Wilko – on his Telecaster defined his special sound. And what a sound.

My old diaries tell me that Cricketers gig was in January 1986, and that I also got to see the Wilko Johnson Band in late 1987 at Putney’s Half Moon, another great atmospheric London venue of yore. Great days.

As it turned out, just a few days after his Broadcasting House cameo with his old Camden mates, I was on hand at Preston’s 53 Degrees as ex-band-mate Watt-Roy paid tribute to Canvey’s finest in an emotional intro to Sweet Gene Vincent, further dedicated to fellow cancer victims Ian Dury (who died in 2000) and original Blockheads drummer Charley Charles (who died in 1990).

If you add to that sad equation the fact that Brilleaux died of cancer in 1994, and Wilko’s beloved wife Irene died of the Big C nine years ago, you can only guess what Wilko must have felt when he received his own diagnosis.

The Brilleaux and Johnson story is told so powerfully in the wondrous 2009 Julien Temple-directed Oil City Confidential documentary, a fitting tribute for all time to an extraordinary Essex duo. Well worth seeking out if you haven’t yet caught it.

With lots of typically Temple-esque tangential twists and visual turns, Wilko proves to be the star of the show, talking us through – in his own inimitable style – all that being ‘born below sea level’ entailed.

From mystical mentions of Kent – that ‘promised land’ across the water – and the night lights of Shellhaven, plus an early love of blues and rock’n’roll, we get to understand something of the influences on a young lad born on the wrong side of the Thames.

Oil City Confidential also sheds light on Wilko’s unique picking style, a primary love of Howling Wolf and Johnny Kidd and the Pirates translated into something that in turn went on to influence the whole punk and new wave movement.

Prog and glam said little to these jug-band veterans (as Wilko put it, ‘rock’n’roll’s not about The Hobbit’), Lee’s strong on-stage persona perfectly complemented by Wilko’s inventive songcraft and live presence.

Wilko comes over as a complex character for sure, in a tale that includes teenage marriage, North-East studies, Far East hippie travels and drug experimentation, environmental political activism, a spell as an unorthodox schoolteacher, and an ever-present love of astronomy, literature and art.

But for all those complicated strands, the Feelgoods stuck with good, honest r’n’b – more A13 than Route 66 – and their live fan-base steadily built and led them to NME adoration and a United Artists deal in 1975, Down by the Jetty just being the start of their recorded output.

By the time second LP Malpractice followed, Lee, Wilko, Sparko and the Big Figure were living the dream, confident enough to release the live Stupidity as their third long player, and it going straight to No.1.

The crunchy followed the smooth, and a ’76 tour of America led to major rifts in the band, Lee and Wilko in particular at loggerheads, paying the price of an estimated ‘1,000 shows in six intense years’.

When Wilko stopped writing songs, they were knackered – in more ways than one – the final rows during the recording of Sneakin’ Suspicion proving fatal, with Wilko leaving in 1977 as the new wave movement they inspired hit the big time.

The band went on without him, even registering their biggest hit in Milk and Alcohol, and any lingering hopes of reconciliation and reformation disappeared with Brilleaux’s passing in Leigh-on-Sea at the age of 41.

Some 19 years later, Wilko – who published his autobiography Looking Back At Me last year – is fighting his own battle. But now is not the time to be downcast about his story.

I can’t pretend to be the first to get my pre-obit in, either, as good friend of this blog Tony Parsons did that at the end of January, determined to pay his own respects to the bug-eyed performer ‘who made this world a better place’.

But what a legacy Wilko leaves behind, that Feelgood sound such an influence on so many bands – heard on everything from The Jam’s debut LP In The City in 1977 through to the first output from 2013 new Irish kids on the block The Strypes.

Wilko recently told the Echo News, “I never intended to follow this path but it all just happened. I was caught up in the fabulous seventies and I have had a great life.”

While there’s potentially a sad ending, the man himself has asked to go out on a high, so it would be wrong to go against that. Instead, I’ll simply say, we salute you, Wilko. You’re a legend.

Posted in Books Films, TV & Radio, Music | Tagged Alison Moyet, Blockheads, Canvey Island, Dr Feelgood, Fender Telecaster, Geno Washington, Ian Dury, Kennington Cricketers, Lee Brilleaux, Madness, Norman Watt-Roy, Oil City Confidential, Wilko Johnson | 8 Comments

writewyattuk

Thankful for Evan’s continued presence

On the write track – 10,000 hits and counting

Sound affects on a midsummer’s night

Road to Rouen – Ben Hatch

Otis Redding – a personal appreciation

Back (on the phone) with Bruce Foxton – the writewyattuk interview

Bruce Foxton – Back in the Room (Absolute/Basstone, 2012) – a writewyattuk review

Out on the town with Noddy and Mark

Mission accomplished … but the public service beat goes on

Wilko Johnson – we salute you

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