It didn’t really matter that I’d already
seen Eddie Izzard live on stage twice before. It didn’t even matter that this
was a pesky midweek affair. And it certainly didn’t matter that I’d heard some
of the same material before, give or take a variation or two. I had high
expectations, and Eddie Izzard’s 'Wunderbar' performance at Wellington’s packed
Michael Fowler Centre on Tuesday night was everything I anticipated it would
be.
Izzard doesn’t really do jokes. He’s from
the stream-of-consciousness-rambling school of stand-up comedy. Where the
timing and delivery is way more important than the subject matter itself. A
comedian who specialises in the art of taking the audience off on wild tangents
before eventually returning full circle to deliver a punchline. And for the
most part, that works just fine. The only danger is that a lot of his
material is so absurd, and delivered at such a frenetic pace, you need to be
sufficiently on form and sharp yourself to ensure the really good stuff doesn’t
get lost in the wash. And while his multilingualism is a definite asset and a
major plus at times, his frequent transitioning between English, French, and
German, was, on this occasion, perhaps a little too random, and I found myself
struggling to keep up. We got all of the regular Izzard
touchstones: an hilarious reframing of history, religion and god, ice cream,
dogs, superheroes, and naturally, politics - with references to Brexit, Trump, and
parallels drawn between the rise of 1930s-style fascism and today’s current
political climate. All a rich source of mirth and humour. Sort of … the last
part, not so much. He talked a little bit about his life as a
child, about being gender fluid, about the recent loss of his father, about
his ongoing political ambitions, and about his incredible marathon-running
feats: “it’s ninety percent mental and the other ten percent is in your head” … Admittedly, I failed to fully grasp his post-encore
closing salvo, his “theory of the universe”, but that hardly mattered. It was
me, Eddie, not you. It was a fun night, and if Izzard ever does
fulfil those political goals, I’m quite sure he’s going to need every last bit
of that manic sense of humour just to survive. Just as I’m sure he’ll be a great
success, and the rare breath of fresh air that UK politics - indeed, global
politics - needs right now.
Blog regulars will know of my obsession with the melodica, and I’ve written a little bit in the past about the work of French dude Art-X, who has become rather prolific over the past few years when it comes to releasing music with melodica right at its core. His latest work, released earlier this month, is a nine-track album called Nomad, and it features a variety of guest collaborators. Once again, it’s blessed with a very rootsy vibe, and I reckon it might just about be his best work yet. It’s available as a name-your-price download on Bandcamp …
The Dub Pistols gig at San Fran last Friday
night was a slightly odd affair. On one hand, the band totally nailed it. On
the other hand, surprisingly few punters were there to see it.
While it was perhaps a touch disconcerting
to see one of the UK’s leading dub/ska exponents of the past two decades - and
a frequent festival headliner - play its first ever Wellington gig to a half
empty venue, the up side was that it felt a little bit more like a private
party. And the band, which was passing through the capital on route to yet
another Splore appearance, sure as hell weren’t going to let a relatively small
turnout get in the way of a good party.
So those of us who did turn up - an eclectic
mix of cockney geezer types and curious locals (stereotyping alert, but an
awful lot of hands went in the air when there was a shout out for fellow
Londoners) - were treated to what amounted to a virtual “greatest hits” set
from the band’s handful of albums and a few covers.
From where I stood, with my head-bobbing
sway never quite morphing into a fully committed boogie (to the relief of all
those around me, surely), the setlist highlights were the few tunes I was most
familiar with, including intoxicating takes on better known tracks like ‘Boom’,
‘Sticky Situation’, and an especially raucous cover of Stranglers’ standard
‘Peaches’.
Vocal duo Barry Ashworth and Seanie Tee
owned the stage every step of the way, with each man clearly feeding off the
vibe of the other. The band itself was on form and always tight, and the
inevitable presence of a room-filling brass man ensured there was a full and
funky sound throughout.
It may have been that the $60-odd ticket
price was considered too steep for a gig some might have regarded as little
more than a Splore warm-up set, or it could have been that Cate Le Bon at Meow
turned out to be Wellington’s premier Friday night drawcard, but given the
terrific show put on by the Dub Pistols on the night, the smallish crowd at San
Fran was especially hard to fathom. One thing seems certain: all those present
got their money’s worth and more.
Just a quick note on another Wellington-based electronic producer with new work released on Bandcamp last week … Miromiro, who I’ve blogged about previously and once profiled for New Zealand Musician magazine. Toucan is a mini album, a snack-sized treat, five delicious synthwave(y) bites of electro goodness. There appears to be a theme, as Miromiro dips a toe into the decidedly murky world of South American politics, with track titles referencing several prominent current day Brazilian politicians. Grab it or stream it below ...
Arcology is a
Wellington-based DJ and producer, and his Bladerunner-inspired album Emanator
was my first “new” album purchase of 2019, picked up via Bandcamp (link here)
…
I never really got
the whole Bladerunner thing. I understand the importance of the film, its
significance as a genuine Sci-Fi masterpiece, and as an early example of Ridley
Scott’s considerable directorial prowess. But personally, I never quite got it.
Despite several attempts over the years to watch it all the way through, it
always leaves me feeling a few brain cells short of the requisite package.
Unable to fully appreciate what everyone else seems to be able to grasp at
will. It was on the goggle box again over the most recent festive period,
enjoyed by younger members of my family, but nope, nothing much has changed so
far as I’m concerned.
I mention all of
this only because I worry that my inability to fully comprehend the film’s more
cerebral charms will result in my own failure to give the intent and execution
of Arcology’s work sufficient credit.
So I can only tell
you what I hear as a non-Sci-Fi-loving mortal, and as a consumer of sound: at
ten tracks, and just over an hour in length, “concept” album or otherwise,
Arcology’s Emanator is a meticulously crafted journey into the netherworlds of analogue
synthpop and acid-based techno. A hybrid crossover of sorts. One that draws the
listener in with all manner of electronic wizardry and finely-honed home
production techniques.
Best consumed as a
whole, as opposed to listening to selected tracks in isolation, Emanator builds
nicely to a mid-album peak, with the double whammy of the acid-drenched title
track (a real highpoint at track five) and the cinematic ‘Automatic Joy
Override’ (at track six) seemingly working in tandem to create a sense that
Arcology may have had twin centrepieces in mind. For my money, they’re the best
tracks on the album, pushed hard by the closer, ‘Was a Day’.
There’s a brief
spoken narrative for all tracks near the end of each one, or at fade out, which
obviously reference themes from the film. For the most part - for all of the
reasons outlined above - these tend to be a little lost on me, but it does add
atmosphere and an element of profundity or some context to each work.
A couple of days
after downloading the album, I received an email from the artist with a couple
of high bit rate .wav files of tracks which weren’t on the album. That was a
nice touch, I thought, and although Arcology isn’t as active in live (or club)
settings as he once was, I believe he still has plans to play live, and I’ll
certainly be making an extra effort to check him out when the opportunity next arises.
Following on from
his recent Combat Rock review, Craig Stephen returns to the everythingsgonegreen
lounge bar to soak up another Clash album … only this time, he asks
the barman to pour him a triple.
***
As a young laddie
getting into The Clash for the first time, I recorded a friend’s tatty vinyl
copy of (the triple LP) Sandinista! onto tape. Given the editing abilities afforded by the
format I cut out a number of tracks and for many years would listen to what was
effectively a double album. It was, in effect, what a sizeable number of
critics had been saying since its release at the end of 1980: that Sandinista!
was bloated and carried too many fillers.
Buying the
reissued triple album on vinyl two years ago I was given an opportunity to
hear, again, Sandinista! in its entirety: every waltz, dub version and
children’s vocal take. In reviewing it, I
decided to listen backwards, as it were, from the generally derided sixth side
back, thus waiting longer for the hit singles and the heavyweight tracks like ‘Washington
Bullets’.
It “starts”,
therefore, with a curious side of versions, dubs and alternative takes. So … ‘Career
Opportunities’ is sung by session man Mickey Gallagher’s young kids, with
predictable results, ‘Silicone On Sapphire’ is the rather exotic name for the
dub(ish) version of ‘Washington Bullets’, and ‘Living In Fame’ is ‘If Music
Could Talk’ with Mikey Dread’s distinct take on it. It’s rounded off with an
instrumental ‘Shepherds Delight’ (yes grammar nazis, it is apostrophe free) but
the side is notable for the one true original, and a fine one at that, ‘Version
City’.
Side five features
a mix of the sublime and the ridiculous. The latter being provided in the form
of ‘Mensforth Hill’, one of the most un-Clash songs put to vinyl, a version of ‘Something
About England’ played backwards with overdubs. Strummer’s singing is barely
comprehensible and its proto trippyness makes for a bizarre listen. And yet it
points to a new direction The Clash could have taken if it had survived, and
did adopt in some of the versions that would feature on B-sides and outtakes.
‘Lose This Skin’,
as well meaning as it is, (about racial division) features Tymon Dogg on vocals
and if he isn’t deliberately singing out of key, well …..
And yet, here are some
of the strongest components of the album, in particular ‘Charlie Don’t Surf’ (a
take on the new world order: “The reign of the superpowers must be over/ So
many armies can’t free the earth/ Soon the rock will roll over/ Africa is
choking on their coca colas”). ‘Kingston Advice’ is one of the understated gems
of the entire work, and its close cousin ‘The Street Parade’ is heavy on
calypso drums. These two tracks were just meant for each other.
Side four contains
heavyweights a go-go, beginning with ‘Police On My Back’, a fast and frenzied
version of a very little known track by The Equals (yes, the ‘Baby Come Back’
lot). ‘The Call Up’, a rallying call to conscientious objectivism (It’s up to
you not to heed the call up/ I don’t wanna die/ It’s up to you not to heed the
call up/ I don’t wanna kill”), ‘Washington Bullets’, and finally ‘Broadway’.
The middle of the
trio is the most political track of the album, a sign that punk hadn’t left the
band entirely. Referencing Chile and the brutal and illegal overthrow of its democratically-elected
leader Allende, and the failed CIA-initiated futile invasion of Cuba at the Bay
of Pigs (“those Washington bullets want Castro dead”). And yet ‘Washington
Bullets’ also shows what resistance can do, in Nicaragua when the FSLN
overthrew the Somoza regime. But if this is sounding all somewhat aggressive
against America’s aggressive foreign policy, Strummer also chides the “Moscow
bullets” fired in Afghanistan and the Chinese invasion of peaceful Tibet.
Dub Fiends and Political Animals
‘Lightning Strikes
(Not Once But Twice)’, which kickstarts the third side, is notable for
Strummer’s semi-slurred take on rap music, one of the band’s first forays into
the genre, initiated by their visits to New York. It comes across in the same
way as Debbie Harry did when rapping on ‘Rapture’ about the same time. Mick
Jones’ ‘Up in Heaven (Not Only Here)’ is a critique of the many cheaply
constructed, crime-ridden towers of London flats that is as relevant now as it
was in 1980 in the wake of the Grenfell Tower disaster. “You can’t live in a home
which should not have been built/ By the bourgeoise clerks who bear no guilt.”
And rather ominously portends that the building will fall to the ground when
the wind is too strong.
This side features
‘Corner Soul’, which begins with a radio excerpt from the Notting Hill Carnival
and segues into ‘Let’s Go Crazy’, both harbouring Caribbean tendencies, while ‘The
Sound of The Sinners’ is pure gospel that could have been recorded in the Bible
Belt.
Bypassing ‘Rebel
Waltz’, as to do otherwise would only result in unhelpful comments, the second
side is on to an old Mose Allison number ‘Look Here’ and the Paul Simonon
voiced ‘The Crooked Beat’, which reflects the bassist’s obsession with reggae.
Soon turning, as they would regularly do, to another beat, ‘Somebody Got
Murdered’ is the kind of raucous up and at ‘em track that reminds me of ‘Spanish
Bombs’ from London Calling. It concludes with the magnificent reggae anthem ‘One
More Time’ and its accompanying dub version. Remember, the original intention
was to record an album entirely of reggae and dub in Jamaica, and the band
likely achieved that ambition with a string of tracks in the genre. If you look
for one, you’ll find a complete reggae or dub album within these 36 tracks.
And that leads us
to the first side, and the most impressive, with two excellent singles, ‘The
Magnificent Seven’ (clip below), and ‘Hitsville UK’ kicking it off. The former is all New
York, pseudo-rap and souped-up funk. The lyrics appear to be a stream of
consciousness that name-check all manner of historical figures and drops in
lines such as “vacuum cleaner sucks up budgie” at odd points. It’s ostensibly
about the working day, “Ring! Ring! It’s seven a.m.” is the opening holler and
when our wage slave reaches the workplace “minutes drag and the hours jerk”. ‘Hitsville
UK’ meanwhile, features Ellen Foley on main vocals along with Jones in a
diatribe on the hit-making pop factory.
There’s a version
of James Waynes’ 1951 blues cut ‘Junco Partner’, with Strummer back in his
customary position; ‘Ivan Meets G.I. Joe’ is cold war disco, ‘The Leader’
explores the cult of personality and media sycophancy, all within one minute
and 40 seconds, and ‘Something About England’ begins with plenty of piano and
forlorn signing before Strummer gets into his stride.
You’ll have
noticed I have breezed past some songs (and omitted some completely), but it
would be impossible to delve into them all in great detail. Suffice to say
there’s an enormous sway of styles and ambitions on the six sides, and that’s
not to mention the occasional inter-song dialogues and other experimental
tricks the band get up to.
Sandinista! isn’t,
per se, a bloated album, as some commentators have long suggested. It has its
flaws, of course; it would be virtually impossible for a triple not to dip in
quality at some points. But the flaws are not in the triple album concept, more
in the inclusion of say, half a dozen tracks that there must have been some
ready-made substitutes for. ‘Career Opportunities’ sung by children?? Someone
was having a laugh, but it wasn’t funny. And Tymon Dogg should never have been
let near a microphone, but ‘Lose This Skin’ is his song and he’ll sing if he
wants to.
But, you know,
quite frankly, who gives a jellyfish’s family jewels for these slip ups,
they’re as much a part of the concept as grandad’s missing teeth. And while
there’s a case for, say, having all the dub and alternative versions corralled
into a separate disk released sometime in 1981, this is what we have, and a
little patience and commitment results in a pair of satisfied ears.
It is tempting to say that
without Billie Holiday there would be no Ella Fitzgerald, no Etta James, no
Nina Simone, no Diana Ross, and no Aretha … but I’m not entirely sure that
would be wholly accurate. What can’t be disputed is the massive influence “Lady
Day” has had, not only within the confines of the jazz genre, but right across
the wider spectrum of modern contemporary music.
As such, the first volume
of Columbia’s Quintessential series – which covers Holiday’s earliest
recordings from 1933 through to 1935 – might just about be one of the most
significant (part) career retrospective compilations out there. And when it
comes to Holiday, there is a multitude of collections to choose from.
Perhaps the most
astounding thing about Holiday’s troubled and tragically short life is the
sheer volume of recordings she managed to accumulate. Volume One ultimately may
not cover off all of her most important releases (of later years), but this is
where it all started, and for that reason alone this album rates as an
essential historical document. And what we do get here is Holiday full of life, and consumed by the energy of youth. This is a bright, vibrant, and at times quite
stunning set of songs.
The sound quality on my CD
copy is a bit dodgy in places, but these are, after all, very early recordings,
so I guess that’s part of the deal … let’s just say that’s part of its pioneering charm
and leave it at that.
Includes: ‘Your Mother's
Son-In-Law’, ‘Miss Brown To You’, ‘I'm Painting The Town Red’, ‘Yankee Doodle
Never Went To Town’ (the 78rpm version featuring Teddy Wilson & Orchestra),
and ‘Spreadin' Rhythm Around’.
